<?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-9997896</id><updated>2011-08-01T07:12:33.202-06:00</updated><category term='NewMan'/><category term='Etiquette'/><category term='ME'/><category term='Cooking'/><category term='The Mama'/><category term='The Nurse in Me'/><category term='video'/><category term='The Blog'/><category term='The Puppies'/><category term='The Kids'/><category term='Fashionless'/><category term='The Pets'/><category term='The Computer'/><category term='TV Addiction'/><category term='rant'/><category term='manners'/><category term='My Weird Mind'/><title type='text'>Did I Just Say that OUT LOUD????</title><subtitle type='html'>Things I think, but should probably not put in print.  Oops, I did it again.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>148</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-6054469549228515989</id><published>2009-06-04T01:29:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-04T01:52:09.890-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Reflections......</title><content type='html'>Here I am sitting at my laptop at 1:30am not able to sleep anymore. No, it is not insomnia, it is night shift hangover. For whatever reason yesterday, I was not feeling well when I got home and I went to sleep about 11am. I slept straight through until now, with only minimal wakings by the kids for this or that. I have no idea why...except that my body just finally gave in to sheer exhaustion. Maybe it is stress induced, or just sleep deprivation, or whatever. All I know is that my sleep pattern is destroyed and I have to work days this weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was reading the previous post here, about Tucker's fifth birthday, and looking at the amazing photo I had taken of him over last summer. He is about to graduate from kindergarten soon. I can't believe how quickly time is slipping by.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems in life we are always waiting for what is coming....never truly living for the moment. When we are young, we want to be older. When we are single, we want to be married. When we are pregnant, we can't wait for the baby to come. When we have the baby, we are just waiting for the day when they are more independent. Always looking forward rather than enjoying the moment we have at hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until the time comes that we realize that most of our life is behind us....then we begin to long to have those days back again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have recently been faced with some of this. In looking at Tucker and realizing I will never again hold a baby of my own, nursing them, giving them something only I can give them. I miss so much the smell of my own newborn's soft spot. The feeling of knowing this being relies on you completely for their survival. So much of the time my children were babies, I was so consumed by other things, that I don't remember just sitting and enjoying them the way I should have. There was so much stress, turmoil, fear, depression....way too much time focusing on my own issues and not just loving those incredible moments that flee way too quickly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thinking there will always be time later....and not at all stopping to think that NOW will never come again. I try not to live in regret now, but try to make the best of every moment I have....but even the realization of how delicate and fragile time is, does not always make me stop savour the moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For some time now, I have started a habit that may seem a little strange to some of my family. Instead of just letting it be implied, whenever we part, either on the phone or in person, I tell them I love them. At first this was not easy, as it was not something that was said a lot....because, well, there would always be time later, right? After losing my dad, my aunt, uncle, etc.....I realized....there is never the certainty that there will be time later. So now, my mom, my sisters, my kids, my Jacques....they hear it every time we talk....I love you. Three easy words to say.... but ones that if not said, can make one live in regret.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take time today to enjoy the moment that is....whatever it is....find a reason to just stop and remember today....and tell the people in your life just what they mean to you....and don't ever let it just be implied.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-6054469549228515989?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/6054469549228515989/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=6054469549228515989&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/6054469549228515989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/6054469549228515989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2009/06/reflections.html' title='Reflections......'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-4325493657893835675</id><published>2008-09-27T09:38:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-27T09:59:49.044-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Five Years Old Today</title><content type='html'>This is the first time in my motherhood where I have had a child turn five and not have a younger child as well. My baby turns five today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He has grown into this amazingly funny, sweet, loving, little man. He is in Kindergarten and has a new story every day about a girlfriend, a new friend, someone who doesn't want to be friends....and even once in a while something about something he has learned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Five years ago, when he was born....it was a day of great concern. It started out with me being in early labour for 12 hours, with no progress at all. I stayed at home through it, only going in after 12 hours to make sure everything was okay. The doctor was a little concerned and ended up sending me up to the major city to be evaluated. I was in the back of an ambulance in labour for 1 1/2 hours. Once they did the ultrasound in the city, it was determined he was transverse (sideways) and there was no way he was coming out the old fashioned way....so, off for a c-section we went. After 24 hours of labour, he was born. 8lbs 15 1/2 oz. There had been some stress on him and they thought maybe he had inhaled some meconium (black tarry baby poop). He was having trouble breathing and he was taken away to the NICU. He had in fact popped a hole in his lung. I didn't end up getting to see him until the next day. He was on oxygen, they wouldn't let me nurse him....I was so scared. After 11 days in the NICU, they let us come home...he was still on oxygen at home for 6 weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, as I look at him tormenting his sister, watching a football or hockey game with me, or just loving me up,...one would never know that his start in life was so rocky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Birthday Little Man Tucker!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SN5YWOSYn6I/AAAAAAAAAEM/CNQCet3Zk1Y/s1600-h/Tucker+August6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SN5YWOSYn6I/AAAAAAAAAEM/CNQCet3Zk1Y/s320/Tucker+August6.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250731354376150946" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-4325493657893835675?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/4325493657893835675/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=4325493657893835675&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/4325493657893835675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/4325493657893835675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2008/09/five-years-old-today.html' title='Five Years Old Today'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SN5YWOSYn6I/AAAAAAAAAEM/CNQCet3Zk1Y/s72-c/Tucker+August6.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-4190014272330702399</id><published>2008-09-17T19:29:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T10:05:48.598-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Hockey Night in Canada with my Dad</title><content type='html'>One of the most comforting memories of being a kid was watching Hockey Night in Canada on Saturday night with my dad. I was too little to understand the game, and I didn't much care. I always had the seat of honour tucked in beside my dad in his recliner. Most nights I would fall asleep before the game would end. He would wake me up at the end of the game to send me to bed, and I would always ask, "Did Montreal win?" My father was born and raised in Montreal and it was always our favourite team. It still is for me, to the point where I have a son named Dryden.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those Saturday nights were not so much about the hockey. They were about that warm and safe feeling I felt. Knowing I was in the presence of love. My dad and I had a very special bond. I can sit here now and remember the smell of his Old Spice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dad passed away on May 29th, 2002. He was 95 years old. I miss him every day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I watch Hockey Night in Canada on Saturday nights. Now I understand the game and enjoy the game. I still cheer for Montreal. My kids cheer for Montreal too! I don't have a recliner to snuggle up with one of kids in, but the sound of the theme song sends me right back there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-4190014272330702399?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/4190014272330702399/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=4190014272330702399&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/4190014272330702399'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/4190014272330702399'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2008/09/hockey-night-in-canada-with-my-dad.html' title='Hockey Night in Canada with my Dad'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-1990716880218956886</id><published>2008-09-13T20:18:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-13T20:41:29.304-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Who am I kidding???  I am not a blogger......</title><content type='html'>I don't feel like a blogger anymore. I don't have the inspiration to write. There are times in the day when something crosses my mind and I think, "That would make a good blog topic" only to either forget or realize how ridiculous the idea in the first place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I read the odd blog here and there....keeping up with my faves such as, &lt;a href="http://othejoys.blogspot.com/"&gt;Oh, The Joys&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://smcarney.blogspot.com/"&gt;The Estrogen Files&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://www.alimartell.com/"&gt;Cheaper Than Therapy&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://www.kevincharnas.com/"&gt;Kevin Charnas&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://crunchycarpets.com/"&gt;Crunchy Carpets&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://melinor.blogspot.com/"&gt;Melanie in Orygun&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://plainjanemom.com/"&gt;Plain Jane Mom&lt;/a&gt;, and &lt;a href="http://www.sangrialover.com/"&gt;Sangria Lover&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have written the odd post over at my alter-ego, &lt;a href="http://mylifesperfection.blogspot.com/"&gt;Imperfect Perfections&lt;/a&gt;, but those can end up being on the depressing side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am looking for something creative. I have this itch, this need, to be creative. I want to write. I have written a few blog entries that have been not too bad, but I can't seem to keep those creative juices flowing. I am taking a course in photography because I love creating beautiful photos and I want to transition from nursing to photography someday. I cook. I cook a lot. Jacques and I cooked together and considered buying a small bistro here, then he had to go back to Chicago when his visa ran out. I don't like the cooking so much by myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need some suggestions, some ideas, something.....ANYTHING.....to help me be inspired again to write.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I don't have a ton of readers, but I am going to ask you, the ones who may read this, to help me. I want you to ask me questions... give me a topic... show me a picture.... anything to help me start writing again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-1990716880218956886?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/1990716880218956886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=1990716880218956886&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/1990716880218956886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/1990716880218956886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2008/09/who-am-i-kidding-i-am-not-blogger.html' title='Who am I kidding???  I am not a blogger......'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-5336965923117051016</id><published>2008-07-16T15:42:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-16T15:49:15.043-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Will Ferrell</title><content type='html'>Can anyone out there tell me why the movie studios are still letting this guy make movies??????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean really.....his movies are not in the least bit funny. Okay, so Elf was not too bad...but everything since that is complete rubbish.  Is it just me?  Have I watched too many movies that actually make me think or evoke emotions and feelings other than pure nausea??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just do not see the appeal........not at all....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-5336965923117051016?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/5336965923117051016/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=5336965923117051016&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/5336965923117051016'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/5336965923117051016'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2008/07/will-ferrell.html' title='Will Ferrell'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-1863938094411668415</id><published>2008-07-15T14:14:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-15T18:40:22.765-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rant'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='manners'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Etiquette'/><title type='text'>A Little Discussion on Etiquette</title><content type='html'>Am I the only person left under the age of 75 who finds the wearing of hats indoors, by anyone, just rude????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know we live in a society of live and let live......but.......when I see a man or woman, boy or girl.....whoever it may be......wearing a hat (especially a ball cap, trucker cap, farmer cap, etc) indoors, it instantly makes me question their intelligence and upbringing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just last night I had ordered take out from one of the nicest restaurants in the small city close to where I live. I was sitting there waiting to pick it up and I looked around and saw ball caps on heads everywhere!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where are the days when men knew enough to take the hat off as you go through the door and hang it on the coat rack? Is it really that difficult? Are you afraid some stranger is going to steal your hat and risk getting head lice?? Are you worried someone will see your hat hair?? (which wouldn't happen if you didn't wear the ugly thing in the first place) Hat hair can be remedied by this neat little invention called a COMB!!!! They are small, portable and fit right in your pocket...amazing! Are you concerned that the cute waitress might notice that you are going bald??? Here's a little tip for you........SHE ALREADY KNOWS!!!!! She figured it out when you refuse to take off your hat.....and they also know that the constant wearing of the hat actually irritates the scalp causing you to lose even MORE HAIR!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the love of all things good....please take off the hat!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-1863938094411668415?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/1863938094411668415/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=1863938094411668415&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/1863938094411668415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/1863938094411668415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2008/07/little-discussion-on-etiquette.html' title='A Little Discussion on Etiquette'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-6828142544792535153</id><published>2008-06-26T11:05:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-06-26T11:29:25.889-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Lesson</title><content type='html'>Lessons are everywhere.  Not always pleasant, not always desired, not always profound...but as long as they are learned, they are always positive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been learning lessons all my life.  Admittedly, I have not always WANTED to learn the lesson.....and most definitely have not always ADMITTED to having learned the lesson.  In fact, in my very stubborn French/Scots kind of way I will tend to argue a point that I am NOT learning a lesson from a specific interaction, just because.......well.......because I am a stubborn French/Scotsman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For any of you out there that may have been involved in one of those stubborn French/Scots conversations with me, rest assured....on much introspection and soul searching.....and a self humbling brought upon by a serious feeling of fear and loss..... I have learned the lesson.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things I do believe:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there is only one soul mate, and when you find it, you must hold on to it, and stop being a stubborn French/Scotsman&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;two stubborn Frenchmen together can create a lot of loud fireworks.....(take from that whatever you wish)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have come a long way, but I have a long way to go&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love is the single most important thing to have in life.  And the person you love is the single most important person in your life.  The opinions, feelings, emotions, reactions...everything....of the person you love need to be acknowledged and validated....always.  I am striving to be the person who does that....and in turn, I need to learn to expect that in my own life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;every story, argument, situation has at least two points of view....to love someone is to be able to see those things from the other person's point of view, and acknowledge and validate that.....even if it differs from your own....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;unconditional love is hard to get, and even harder to give......but is of utmost importance to strive for&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mistakes, while they can prove to be devastating, painful, uncomfortable and damaging...are a necessary part of life.... we learn lessons from mistakes.... and sadly, until we actually learn that lesson, we will keep making that mistake.  Mistakes are not usually the end of the world, even if they feel that way at the time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-6828142544792535153?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/6828142544792535153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=6828142544792535153&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/6828142544792535153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/6828142544792535153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2008/06/lesson.html' title='The Lesson'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-5857377053211139141</id><published>2008-06-09T23:52:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-06-09T23:58:54.023-06:00</updated><title type='text'>All Things Bright &amp; Beautiful</title><content type='html'>Life is looking better. I am no longer a puddle of emotions every time I turn around. Now don't get me wrong, I still miss Jacques to death and pray every day that he will come home to me sooner rather than later......but, I don't wallow in it. And Tracy, you were right.......I didn't die....I am here.....to annoy the hell out of you for a good long time yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Funny how time has a way of adding perspective to all things.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-5857377053211139141?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/5857377053211139141/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=5857377053211139141&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/5857377053211139141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/5857377053211139141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2008/06/all-things-bright-beautiful.html' title='All Things Bright &amp; Beautiful'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-2443700678592806387</id><published>2008-05-28T12:06:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-05-28T12:11:33.895-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Can you die from a broken heart??</title><content type='html'>There are people that say you can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jacques was here for six months.  There were ups and downs.  All relationships have ups and downs.  For the most part, we were happy.  We enjoy each others company.  He is my best friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But now he is gone.  He had to go back to take care of some things.  We don't know when he can come back.  And even though we are still together, my heart is broken.  My arms ache to hold him.  My lips ache to kiss him.  I miss his being here every day.  I miss his cooking (he is amazing).  I miss his laughter, so enthusiastic and robust.  I miss him.  I just miss him so damn much.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-2443700678592806387?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/2443700678592806387/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=2443700678592806387&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/2443700678592806387'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/2443700678592806387'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2008/05/can-you-die-from-broken-heart.html' title='Can you die from a broken heart??'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-4983948995446315084</id><published>2008-04-06T11:41:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-04-06T12:01:16.205-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Moses</title><content type='html'>Charlton Heston is gone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now while I am not a big fan, I do know some of his movies, Planet of the Apes, Soylent Green, Ben Hur....and the original I Am Legend, though I can't remember the name of it, and having watched only a small part of it the other day, I can tell you, it was BAAAAAAAAD!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The most memorable of the Charlton Heston movies had to be The Ten Commandments. I used to watch this movie when I was young, and was in awe of the special effects. Now you watch it and think of how much better it could be done today. In fact, that is exactly what Jacques and I were discussing this morning. How much better the special effects would be now. The parting of the Red Sea, the computer generated people following him, even the burning bush......but one question remained.... Who would they cast as Moses today???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We tossed around a couple names....... Anthony Hopkins ~ too creepy......Sean Connery ~ too old.....Brad Pitt ~ too Brad Pitt......The Guy from 300 whose name I do not know.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We wondered if there was anyone who could do the role with the magnitude in which Mr. Heston did it.....with as much star appeal....or, did it need to be a big star?? Now we put the question to you, the readers.....who would you cast????&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-4983948995446315084?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/4983948995446315084/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=4983948995446315084&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/4983948995446315084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/4983948995446315084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2008/04/moses.html' title='Moses'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-8905683624734874067</id><published>2008-03-30T16:42:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2008-03-30T16:59:23.409-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Long Time, No Blog</title><content type='html'>I am certain that the one reader who may have faithfully been reading me at one time, has given up on me. I have felt so very uninspired as of late.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life here has been good. NewMan and I are settling into life together. There are a lot of bumps along the way, as there are with any relationship. Add in the fact that I have 4 kids, two of whom are teenagers, and the fact that he is so far away from his own children, you can only imagine the ups and downs we feel here daily. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My oldest son, who will be 17 this summer, decided about 6 weeks ago that he did not want to live with me anymore. It has been a very difficult transition for me, but one that really needed to be done. He has had a lot of anger issues in the past, and he has a definite issue with authority. He did not like my rules. I suppose they were unreasonable ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Get up and go to school every day &lt;br /&gt;2. Come home on time&lt;br /&gt;3. Clean up after your self&lt;br /&gt;4. Do the chores assigned to you without having to be told a million times&lt;br /&gt;5. No smoking, alcohol or drugs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a tyrant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His father seems to think he can do a better job with him than I can. I hope he can, actually. I have had enough, frankly. I took the child to counselling on several occasions to help him deal with his issues about our divorce. I took him to anger management classes to help him avoid some serious trouble he may have gotten himself into. I tried to be a parent rather than a best friend. And all I got in return from him was that he hated me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has truly broken my heart and my spirit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-8905683624734874067?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/8905683624734874067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=8905683624734874067&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/8905683624734874067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/8905683624734874067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2008/03/long-time-no-blog.html' title='Long Time, No Blog'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-5921771397847926998</id><published>2008-01-04T10:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-01-04T17:56:30.343-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Parenting is Hard</title><content type='html'>I have never professed myself to be the perfect parent...hell, I have never even professed myself to be a good parent.  At best, I am the accidental parent.  Not to take away from the beautiful miracle of becoming a mother.... but when it happened to me, I hadn't exactly planned it.  I love my children to the death, I would give my life for them (at times, I feel that I already have).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was only married 5 short months, was in the middle of my first year of Nursing school, when I got pregnant with my first son.  I remember being scared, annoyed, P.O.ed at myself.  How did this happen to me?  But happen it did.  I am now the proud mother of a 6' tall, 220lb, blue eyed 16yr old boy with beautiful auburn hair, which he has recently cut into a mohawk.  UGH!  But, I pick my battles, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My other children also present their own challenges.  My 12yr old boy struggles with depression, and ADD.  My daughter struggles with CDS &amp; OGS....Chronic Diva Syndrome and Only Girl Syndrome.  She has somehow developed this attitude that she can do or say whatever she likes and should never have to pay a consequence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The 4yr old....now he is really a piece of work.  I know I have caused this problem with him.  He is the baby.  I have always catered to him.  I have always felt such tremendous guilt about the kids having only one parent that I have over compensated.  I have spoiled all my children, but the little one is the worst.  And now, I am having to do damage control.  I am having to retrain him to not always getting what he wants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am having to retrain all of my children.  I have created a collective monster of unaappreciation that is wearing very very thin with myself and most others that have to deal with them.  Teaching old dogs new tricks is never an easy task.  And I am quickly realizing I am not a dog trainer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-5921771397847926998?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/5921771397847926998/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=5921771397847926998&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/5921771397847926998'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/5921771397847926998'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2008/01/parenting-is-hard.html' title='Parenting is Hard'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-3595370804880994646</id><published>2008-01-01T13:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-01-01T13:32:24.170-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy New Year!!</title><content type='html'>Wow, a whole new year.  And I don't feel one bit different today.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't make any resolutions, since they really don't ever hold anyway.  Maybe I should make some that I can actually keep, to keep the feeling of failure away...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I resolve in 2008 to:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eat more chocolate&lt;br /&gt;Yell at my kids more&lt;br /&gt;Exercise less&lt;br /&gt;Spend way more time on the computer&lt;br /&gt;Watch more reality tv&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmmmmmm........maybe I have something here&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-3595370804880994646?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/3595370804880994646/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=3595370804880994646&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/3595370804880994646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/3595370804880994646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2008/01/happy-new-year.html' title='Happy New Year!!'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-7704133473162350368</id><published>2007-11-08T06:21:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-08T07:57:39.245-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Future Begins, November 21 2007...</title><content type='html'>I thought I'd come and make a post for Rissy as she has been neglecting her blog for a while now (Bad Rissy). In truth it is mostly my fault. I have been keeping her busy very busy in preparations for my arrival...my final arrival...on the 21st of this month. After a long battle, much bloodshed (ok not so much) and a 350 Dollar 1 way ticket (that isn't too pricey really) I am ready to go. We've been busying ourselves with plans and shipping. I've shipped quite a few things up there and my last box gets shipped out next friday (WOW!)&lt;br /&gt;So much excitement of course doesn't come without sacrifice. This blog has suffered immensely at the hands of our planning and excitement and I know Rissy is sorry for that. I've suffered too trust me (:P) so much that Rissy actually admitted something to me the other day...the dreaded enemy of mankind... P...M...S...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, she admitted it. After a day of general crankiness (we all have our cranky days right?) she admitted it. It was under some great duress, and most likely due to the fact that it would cause great chagrin amongst womankind. I have never understood why women have such a tough time admitting that.  I mean, when I'm crabby I admit it.  Hell when I'm crabby everyone knows about it, share and share alike I always say :D.  I did some checking about PMS on Wikipedia and the sense is that it is a definate condition that has medicine to treat it.  I mean, when something has medicine to treat it, it is a condition right...look at restless leg syndrom *rolls eyes*.  I will never forget the first time I heard about "PMS" I was 17 at Uni, and someone I was going out with said "Man, I must be PMSing" and I said...before thinking of course..."So there is a Medical reason you are being a jerk right now"...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you guessed it...didn't last much longer after that...lol&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-7704133473162350368?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/7704133473162350368/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=7704133473162350368&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/7704133473162350368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/7704133473162350368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/11/future-begins-november-21-2007.html' title='The Future Begins, November 21 2007...'/><author><name>Jacques</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05704843651966461876</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-1659015251629146167</id><published>2007-11-07T22:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-07T22:02:49.175-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I love my blog, I really love my blog</title><content type='html'>But something seems to have hijacked it.  It freezes up on me something terrible whenever I try to visit here (apparently it locks up other visitors as well).  I don't know what is wrong with it, or what to do to fix it.  If anyone has any ideas, I would love to hear them!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-1659015251629146167?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/1659015251629146167/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=1659015251629146167&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/1659015251629146167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/1659015251629146167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/11/i-love-my-blog-i-really-love-my-blog.html' title='I love my blog, I really love my blog'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-431693882678708646</id><published>2007-10-07T16:56:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-10-07T18:21:17.265-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Well, our weekend is over</title><content type='html'>It was wonderful, but oh too short.  The kids loved it, and Tuc clung to him like crazy.  I think the kids got more love time than I did, but that is okay too...I have a lifetime of lovin', right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuc, who is usully so shy and wary of strangers, just loved up Jacques....he has been craving a positive male role model.  It was just so cute how he had to copy everything Jacques did.  Even wearing a robe around the house and tying it the same way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so in love, and so happy the kids are too!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-431693882678708646?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/431693882678708646/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=431693882678708646&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/431693882678708646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/431693882678708646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/10/well-our-weekend-is-over.html' title='Well, our weekend is over'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-8870014516574646938</id><published>2007-10-02T14:33:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-10-02T14:43:52.417-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Is there anyone left out there to read this???</title><content type='html'>Hi all!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry to have neglected my dear blog lately.  With back to school and work and all that I have been up to this fall, something had to give, and unfortunately, it was this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But now for some fun stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NEWMAN IS COMING!!!  He is coming to my home tomorrow for 3 days to celebrate the Canadian Thanksgiving with my kids and I.  I know he won't be here for the official day on Monday, but really, there are very few Canadians that actually celebrate and hold the meal on the Monday anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have some tentative dates for his final arrival to live here as well, but I am not going to divulge those quite yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YAY!!  Happy Thanksgiving to ME!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-8870014516574646938?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/8870014516574646938/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=8870014516574646938&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/8870014516574646938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/8870014516574646938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/10/is-there-anyone-left-out-there-to-read.html' title='Is there anyone left out there to read this???'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-7158244557374449590</id><published>2007-08-21T10:11:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-08-21T11:56:57.160-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Genius or Psycholgical Disorder?</title><content type='html'>Tuc has been obsessed with the letter T since I first taught him "T for Tucker". In fact, that is what he calls it, "T for Tucker". He is learning other letters as well, but every time me sees a "T", he just yells out "T for Tucker!!" And with my recent compulsion to play Scrabulous on Facebook 24 hours a day, he tends to see a lot of T's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been made painfully aware as of late of his obsession with numbers and number patterns as well. He sits with me in my room and watches my digital clock and announces with very intense glee when there is a "match" on the clock...meaning more than one of the same number. OMG when it is 5:55...you would think he just won the lottery!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;None of this comes as a real shocker to me, I, myself have always had an obsession with number patterns. Phone numbers in particular. I make note of how the pattern of the numbers is punched on the key pad, anything with a particular pattern delights me to no end....like my one sister, whose phone number is 1254....I love that it makes a little "postage stamp" on the keypad. Number patterns fascinate me as well. I remember phone numbers from when I was a kid, just because they had an interesting pattern to them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You would think I could balance a cheque book, wouldn't you?? Yeah--no....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and one more thing about numbers, my oldest son turns 16 today, Lord, Help ME!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-7158244557374449590?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/7158244557374449590/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=7158244557374449590&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/7158244557374449590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/7158244557374449590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/08/genius-or-psycholgical-disorder.html' title='Genius or Psycholgical Disorder?'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-4870169815505323862</id><published>2007-08-16T06:54:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-08-16T06:59:13.353-06:00</updated><title type='text'>HAPPY BIRTHDAY IRIS!!!</title><content type='html'>I would like to wish my Princess a Happy Birthday. The world is a better place because of what happen 41 years ago today, OK maybe that's a little bit on the egotistical side...but I know my life is a better place because of it.  Iris, you are a wonderful mother, sister, daughter, friend, best friend and love, to me and so many people.  You touch so many people's lives with your care and love that we are all better for it.  Happy Birthday, I love you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Le Nouveau Homme&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-4870169815505323862?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/4870169815505323862/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=4870169815505323862&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/4870169815505323862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/4870169815505323862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/08/happy-birthday-iris.html' title='HAPPY BIRTHDAY IRIS!!!'/><author><name>Jacques</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05704843651966461876</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-5870694644318554667</id><published>2007-08-15T07:00:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-08-15T07:01:03.014-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A little Garth Brooks anyone??</title><content type='html'>So last night I was watching the final performance show of America's Got Talent (I know, I know...lame, but the kids like it) and there is this ventriloquist who does impersonations of singers...he is actually very good. His usual gig is the Rat Pack, the old standards, and one night he even did Etta James. Last night for his first performance the judges got to choose his song. They chose Friends In Low Places by Garth Brooks. He did awesome. I sang along, being silly for my kids...and The Tuc Man singing too...."I got nice friends in nice places". Made me think of all of you!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-5870694644318554667?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/5870694644318554667/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=5870694644318554667&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/5870694644318554667'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/5870694644318554667'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/08/little-garth-brooks-anyone.html' title='A little Garth Brooks anyone??'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-3734027176846301054</id><published>2007-08-12T00:13:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-08-12T01:31:03.619-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Reflections of High School</title><content type='html'>It has been a long time since I was in high school. Twenty three years, to be exact. I will sit back for a moment while you do the math....&lt;em&gt; *insert Jeopardy music here*&lt;/em&gt; .....yes, that makes me 41 (well, not quite, but in 4 more days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;High school for me was not horrible, but it wasn't exactly a cake walk either. I was not one of the Universally Disliked. I was not one of the Undesirables. I wasn't one of the Ultra Populars either. I floated around somewhere in the middle. I had a lot of different friends, in different social groups. Some were partyers, some were not. Some my friends drank alcohol, some smoked, some smoked &lt;em&gt;stuff&lt;/em&gt;....and some did none of those things. Some dated lots of guys, some dated the same guy, some did not date. And strangely enough, I felt comfortable with all of them, even if most of the time, I felt terribly uncomfortable with myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I truly had not thought too much about high school in recent years. I had no real connections to anyone from there much anymore....until I found Facebook. Now I have found people I haven't even thought about in years....and I am truly enjoying it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have found in myself a confidence that was never there in high school. I know, most people are not truly confident in high school, but there are sure those who seem to be. The ones that owned the school and whom everyone looked up to and admired and wanted to be. In reconnecting with some of the people I knew back then, I have realized that what appeared on the outside was not what was truly going on on the inside. That while I felt so alone with my skeletons and demons while everyone else seemed to breeze through easily, that they too, were trying to keep their demons and skeletons from showing through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other part to that is that there are people that may have appeared even weaker than myself, who have blossomed into these amazingly beautiful people, full of care and compassion that was just never allowed to be nurtured in the snake pit of high school. And yet, there are still some people that so intimidated me in high school, that I feel I cannot approach them now, because those old feelings of fear of rejection still linger somewhere in my psyche. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have grown into a complex, intelligent, compassionate adult human being. I have far more confidence than I ever dreamed I could. A lot of that, of course, has come from my life experiences, negative and positive. From being a parent, to being a single parent, to being a single parent to a teenager. From going through divorce, and the breakdown of a second major relationship. And still not afraid to love again, knowing for certain that this time....third time is a charm. And hoping that somewhere along the way I am teaching my children that people make mistakes, no one is perfect, and that the only bad thing is not trying to fix a mistake once it is recognized. Teaching them that sometimes there can be more love, peace and joy when it comes divided in two. Teaching my children that it matters not who they love, but that it is how they love them that is important.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-3734027176846301054?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/3734027176846301054/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=3734027176846301054&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/3734027176846301054'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/3734027176846301054'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/08/reflections-of-high-school.html' title='Reflections of High School'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-917897236750036704</id><published>2007-08-11T09:45:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2007-08-11T10:17:26.752-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Thank You, NewMan</title><content type='html'>I want to take this time to thank Jacques for posting for me the other day, in my absence. I certainly didn't expect such a beautiful post from him! I am a lucky lucky woman. As you can see, I think he loves me a lot! Good thing, cause I love him a lot too. I have decided to keep him on here as a contributor to this blog. He has an interesting writing style and can tell a story to make you laugh. He had his own blog for a short while, but found he didn't get it updated enough for his liking. So when he has a good story to tell, I will encourage him to post it here. Watch out for it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you have seen also, my aunt is ill. She has been battling cancer for a while, and is now at the end of her battle. My mother had to go to be with her, now until the end, so my annual vacation to my mom's cabin has been cancelled this year. So I am hanging out with my kids at home. I am a firm believer in things happening for a reason, so I am going to just go with the flow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-917897236750036704?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/917897236750036704/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=917897236750036704&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/917897236750036704'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/917897236750036704'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/08/thank-you-newman.html' title='Thank You, NewMan'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-1860692560380737331</id><published>2007-08-08T09:42:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-08-08T10:31:38.342-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I am New Man!</title><content type='html'>While Iris is facing a crisis of family she has given me the distinct honor of being a guest blogger for her. Thinking long and hard of what subject I could post while she is away (she will actually be back tonight from picking up her kiddos) I thought heck...there is only 1 post I could make...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am New Man!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I am the legendary New Man...who is the old man...yet...New Man lol. I have had the pleasure of knowing Iris for 10 years and about 8-9 years ago we met got close and fell in love, deeply in love. There were some issues and we went our separate ways. Through our long conversations and time that we've spent getting back to know each other again over the past 15 months we've both admitted that our thoughts drifted back and forth to one another over the years and for me even as far as asking mutual friends about her all time. Life hasn't been without its hiccups over 7 years (3 Children and 2 Marriages teaches a person or in this case 2 people quite a bit) but its amazing what one learns when you are in a place that breeds unhappiness and misery. Finding each other again at the time when we have has been awesome. Drawing upon a deep friendship that has lasted so long and realizing a love has been there but untouched and buried under 7 years of...stuff.  It is refreshing.  If there is one thing I have learned that when you have been at the bottom, you cherish that which you have lost and rarely does one get a second chance at something so wonderful.  I am lucky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   That isn't to say that life is greener on the other side.  The process of getting together is just that a process.  It is a battle that we are looking at fighting and enduring for at least 2 years.  Life changes are massive and they are coming.  Those who would think there is an air of naïvité here don't be fooled.  Love doesn't conquer all.  That IS a myth.  Love doesn't conquer all it is not a carte blanche giving people the ability to do as they wish or not be prepared for the worse, or worse yet, not put 100% effort into things.  Honesty, trust, understanding and patience are what make love work.  I've learned that in the past 5 years that loving a person has to work hand in hand with all listed above.  If you can't do that, if you don't see yourself doing that.  You will never be happy.  To love someone is to not love them, but love their faults and crimes and failures only then will you love someone truly enough to love them forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    I'm a lucky New Man, who intends on eventually graduating to New Husband.  Seeing life as a challenge to be taken 1 day at a time and enjoying every second of it.  And together as she knows I eat way too unhealthy (which her nurse side has already threatened to curb), that I have this habit of drooling (I know...ICK)and that yes...I DO leave the toilet seat up (yes women, we all do it...sorry) we will find happiness not only in love...but in honesty, trust, patience and understanding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am New Man.  Bonjour!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-1860692560380737331?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/1860692560380737331/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=1860692560380737331&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/1860692560380737331'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/1860692560380737331'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/08/i-am-new-man.html' title='I am New Man!'/><author><name>Jacques</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05704843651966461876</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-8983729734779557076</id><published>2007-08-05T12:55:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-08-05T13:39:12.558-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I am not ready to say goodbye</title><content type='html'>Dear Auntie Dot,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are so many things I want to say to you. Things I have said before, maybe some I have never said. All things I hope you will always know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you. Not just because you are my mother's sister, but because you are you. My childhood memories of you are so vivid. Your wonderful sense of humour, your hearty robust laugh, that smile that just beams! The amazing strength you have demonstrated in your life, through all of the things you have endured, it is an inspiration to me, and will always live in me. Your compassion and understanding when I talked to you of my own difficulties, it meant so much to me. I am not sure I can ever really explain it, but know, it really helped me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know you have said you don't want us to be sad. But, I cannot help it. I am sad for me, though, not for you. If I had been able to change things, of course I would have cured you of your cancer and kept you here forever. But since I cannot, I have to let you go, and take comfort in the thoughts of you seeing Grandma, Uncle Mike, Uncle Bill, Leia and my Dad again. How wonderful that reunion will be! So even though I am and will continue to shed tears, know they are for the pain you are feeling now, and my own pain of missing you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will always hold that memory of seeing you at mom's for her birthday. I can still feel that strong, long hug. Just holding on and hugging for long minutes. So much happiness and all emotions rolled into one. How happy I am to have the memory to hold onto. Thank you so much. Thank you for all of the memories, stories, and strength. Thank you for coming back to us. Thank you for everything, Auntie Dot.  And even though I am far from ready, and probably never would be..... I must say these words........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goodbye........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until the day we meet again....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love Iris&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-8983729734779557076?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/8983729734779557076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=8983729734779557076&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/8983729734779557076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/8983729734779557076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/08/i-am-not-ready-to-say-goodbye.html' title='I am not ready to say goodbye'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-3807566404896490491</id><published>2007-07-20T10:36:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-07-20T10:42:41.957-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Blogging Hiatus Hernia</title><content type='html'>Here I am, popping out in the middle of my summer blogging hiatus.  I was away for a few days visiting my mom and my youngest, Tuc.  I had to leave him with my mom still for a couple more weeks until my summer vacation starts and I can head out to the cabin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also seem to have messed up my wireless connection on this laptop.  I had taken the laptop to mom's and was getting online there, but now, my home network is not working properly....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I apologize for the posting here being sporadic and rather boring....I hope to get better soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-3807566404896490491?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/3807566404896490491/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=3807566404896490491&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/3807566404896490491'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/3807566404896490491'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/07/blogging-hiatus-hernia.html' title='Blogging Hiatus Hernia'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-5213973387851843476</id><published>2007-07-05T10:50:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-07-05T11:32:16.874-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I have become childless.....</title><content type='html'>and that has taken away a lot of my inspiration for my writing. No Tuc coming in and saying something so profound or funny ..... No teenager angst to talk about.... no drama queen diva trauma to talk about.....no nothing to write about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could talk about work....but I have to be careful there too, as there is FOIP hovering about like Orwell's Big Brother....preventing me from talking about the people I encounter, no matter how anonymous I try to make the post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can blog about NewMan, but frankly, I only can talk about the heartache of being apart from him still....and wanting to have him here with me finally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But back to being childless. I am not the "empty nester" kind of parent. I do not cease to exist just because my offspring are not physically with me. I try to enjoy the quiet and solitude. Yesterday I went shopping.....I bought a package with one steak in it....one carton of milk.....one container of yogurt......that is just so foreign to me. With four kids, grocery shopping always involves case lots of things and family packs and wholesale.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My kids are away for their annual summer vacation back in Saskatchewan where they visit with my family, their dad's family and spend time at my mom's cabin. I have always enjoyed my summers with the kids gone.....but last night, I realized..... it was the first time I slept in my house completely alone in probably four years or more. Even when my kids were gone, I always had Tuc and his dad was always here as well. I was lonely last night. I talked to my oldest son on MSN last night, and he told me he didn't miss me.......that broke my heart. He said he had only been gone a week and hasn't had time to miss me yet........sigh.......&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-5213973387851843476?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/5213973387851843476/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=5213973387851843476&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/5213973387851843476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/5213973387851843476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/07/i-have-become-childless.html' title='I have become childless.....'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-4030430689348545357</id><published>2007-07-04T03:14:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-07-04T03:20:35.053-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Home again, home again...........</title><content type='html'>Well, I made it home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were no plane delays. No cancelled flights........I had to come home. And leave NewMan behind again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was 1000 times harder this time to come home and not bring him with me. All I want is to have him here and have my family complete.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next trip I take down there, will be to bring him home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stay tuned...........&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-4030430689348545357?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/4030430689348545357/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=4030430689348545357&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/4030430689348545357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/4030430689348545357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/07/home-again-home-again.html' title='Home again, home again...........'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-7502719737146156666</id><published>2007-06-29T14:25:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-06-29T14:43:18.006-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Blogging on the Road..........</title><content type='html'>My flights out here were alright........completely uneventful. Only once I landed at O'Hare did I hear that travellers had been grounded for days due to bad weather. I can only hope and pray that I, too, get delayed on Sunday and am able to spend an extra day here with my love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I checked into my hotel, only to find out that the pool is closed.....I booked through Travelocity, and I am wondering where that effing little Gnome was....isn't he supposed to let people know when those things happen???? I called to talk to him, but I got some bitchy guy with a very hard to understand accent instead. He really didn't give a crap that the pool was closed in my hotel and that I wasn't going to be able to swim during the day while my man is at work. Not to mention that there will be no hanky panky in the hot tub....jerk. After me complaining to him and not letting him hang up, he agreed to give me a $25 credit on a future trip.... whoopdy freakin' do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday evening we just picked up dinner at this awesome little Asian place that we have eaten at before, and where NewMan eats lunch often during the week. They make some of the best Hot &amp; Sour soup....mmmmmmmmm. Last night, we went out to this Mexican place....it is always so good....SPICY!! And tonight, we are doing dinner and a movie. This kind of dating is always so funny, since we tend to go a couple months without seeing each other, then try to cram in all our dates in just a couple days. It is fun though!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I fly home on Sunday again....it all seems so short. I cannot wait for the day when he is finally home with me for good. There will be a big celebration for me that day......as it will be a day I have waited for for a very long time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just want to thank NewMan for leaving me his laptop in the hotel room, mostly so I can talk to him while he is at work all day, but also so I could keep up with my blogging and Facebook stuff. Thanks my baby! You are the best......&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-7502719737146156666?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/7502719737146156666/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=7502719737146156666&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/7502719737146156666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/7502719737146156666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/06/blogging-on-road.html' title='Blogging on the Road..........'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-3494377090687716379</id><published>2007-06-20T10:27:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-06-20T10:31:14.261-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I finally have a scientific excuse for being a slug......</title><content type='html'>Iris' biorhythms updated daily:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Physical: You're far from your physical peak. Don't overdo it. (-63 % and falling.)&lt;br /&gt;Emotional: VERY LOW INDEED. Look after yourself. (-97 % but rising.)&lt;br /&gt;Intellectual: An OK day for brain power. (37 % and rising.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you want your own Biorhythm evaluation, click on my Facebook link and sign up.  And then you too, can get sucked into the abyss that is Facebook.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-3494377090687716379?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/3494377090687716379/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=3494377090687716379&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/3494377090687716379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/3494377090687716379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/06/i-finally-have-scientific-excuse-for.html' title='I finally have a scientific excuse for being a slug......'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-891031599747770205</id><published>2007-06-16T11:20:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-06-16T13:35:46.271-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Advertising Geniuses</title><content type='html'>We have all heard an advertising jingle that just sticks in your head for days and days.  That is the whole point.  Who can resist that package of luncheon meat when the vision of cute little kids singing, "My bologna has a first name......" comes into your head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And there is the onslaught of toy ads, that when I was a child only came on at Christmas time, but now clutter the Cartoon Network on a daily basis, making the children watching think there is no possible way they can live another day with out the Super Bratz Powder Puff Pink Ranger with Real Lazer Vision.  Of course, perhaps my children just watch too much TV, like Anonymouse said of The Joy Children about &lt;a href="http://othejoys.blogspot.com/2007/06/love-song-of-serengeti.html"&gt;this post&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have given you all evidence how witty and charming my son, The Tucster, can be.  He is a 3 1/2 year old, after all.  He is the worst offender in this house about the singing over and over and over and over of the mindless songs, playing the movies on a never ending loop, and repeating the commercials.  He will walk into the room and recite along with the TV, "Maybe its Mabaween"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So you can only understand why I wasn't really surprised to hear him singing,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Bom chicka wah wah"..... a great big thank you to the advertising geniuses at &lt;a href="http://axebcww.com/main.php?loc=us&amp;bookmark=phenomenon"&gt;Axe&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-891031599747770205?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/891031599747770205/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=891031599747770205&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/891031599747770205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/891031599747770205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/06/advertising-geniuses.html' title='Advertising Geniuses'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-5339592692498809315</id><published>2007-06-15T09:21:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T04:06:09.776-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My Weird Mind'/><title type='text'>What is that sound??</title><content type='html'>As I am sitting here in my room, drinking my coffee....there are so many sounds around me. My house is filled with a symphony. The TV in my room is spewing Hot Topics from the View (can I just interject here to say how much I dislike Elisabeth, prefer Rosie, loving Sherri Sheppard &amp; Kathy Griffen co-hosting and if it wasn't for Joy Behar, I would be letting Tuc watch Pinky Dinky Doo in here). I can hear my oldest son's stereo is on in the bedroom right below mine, the bass thumping like a migraine. The dishwasher is humming away, the sloshing of the water like waves on the shore. The TV in the living room broadcasting an unending litany of mind numbing repetitive songs from children's shows (Wonder Pets anyone?). The dog is in his cage scratching at some imagined fleas, making the whole thing shake, rattle and roll. The overloaded washing machine is twisting the day away, then giving way to the spin cycle, sounding like the machine is mamboing its way down the hall to greet me. The dryer whirring away, the rhythmic thump of some wayward shoe, and the scratching sound of zippers from jeans adding to the overall melody. I can hear Tuc tossing his toys around in the living room, disjointed noises, like an improv jazz band.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then I hear.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's that sound?????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Tuc, what are you doing?"&lt;br /&gt;"Pwaying my inswurment"&lt;br /&gt;"Which instrument is that, Tuc?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;sound of him walking down the hall with something heavy&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"This one"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/RnK_p_qPfcI/AAAAAAAAACE/zZ2KnlUlCyY/s1600-h/hamster-duo-cage.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5076330458184121794" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/RnK_p_qPfcI/AAAAAAAAACE/zZ2KnlUlCyY/s320/hamster-duo-cage.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I gotta have more Hamster Cage!"&lt;br /&gt;"I gotta fever, and the only prescription is MORE HAMSTER CAGE!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ojaiwan.net/audio/cowbell.wmv"&gt;SNL Cowbell with Christopher Walken&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-5339592692498809315?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/5339592692498809315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=5339592692498809315&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/5339592692498809315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/5339592692498809315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/06/what-is-that-sound.html' title='What is that sound??'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/RnK_p_qPfcI/AAAAAAAAACE/zZ2KnlUlCyY/s72-c/hamster-duo-cage.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-3882713940095006589</id><published>2007-06-08T06:45:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-06-16T09:58:56.291-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Kids'/><title type='text'>Tuckerisms</title><content type='html'>Yesterday just out of the blue:&lt;br /&gt;"Mommy, I have hair on my arms, can I drink beer now?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Upon getting his dinner plate at Easter when it was just him and I:&lt;br /&gt;"Where's the wine?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Angus snatched the peanut butter toast from his hand:&lt;br /&gt;"Damn you, Angus"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-3882713940095006589?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/3882713940095006589/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=3882713940095006589&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/3882713940095006589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/3882713940095006589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/06/tuckerisms.html' title='Tuckerisms'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-6160468345770133588</id><published>2007-06-07T07:07:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-06-16T09:59:36.254-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Nurse in Me'/><title type='text'>For those of you who do not work nights...</title><content type='html'>1. When you go to bed at 10pm, do you say, "I am going for a nap"?... when I sleep during the day, it is not a "nap", it is the obligatory SLEEP my body needs in order for me to stay alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. The next time you call me at 2pm and expect me to talk and be coherent, I am going to call you at 2am and expect the same thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. When you wake up at 5am, do you immediately start cooking dinner??? Neither do I when I wake up at 5pm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. I will never get the quantity or quality of sleep during the day that you do at night, therefore, do not ask me how I slept, it will never be a positive answer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Never ever ever come to work in the morning and say to me "I am so tired". I may just eat you alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Do not ever ask me if I want coffee....it isn't a matter of want, it is a matter of need.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. When I eat a plate of turkey and dressing at 3am, do not ask me, "how can you eat that in the middle of the night?".....the answer is "the same way you eat it at 5pm".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. I do not need you to tell me I look tired at 7am when I have been working all night, I already know I look tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Do not tell me that I should rest more. I realize that. I realize it more than you ever can.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-6160468345770133588?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/6160468345770133588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=6160468345770133588&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/6160468345770133588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/6160468345770133588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/06/for-those-of-you-who-do-not-work-nights.html' title='For those of you who do not work nights...'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-460812327252494186</id><published>2007-06-06T05:13:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-06-16T10:00:00.697-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Nurse in Me'/><title type='text'>a long night's journey into day.....</title><content type='html'>As I do my rounds each hour, checking on my patients, the light breaking through the darkness brings hope for the shift to soon be over and to be home sleeping in my bed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems that people have an affinity to leave or enter this world at the time that the light is fading or approaching. I am not saying all, but there seems to be that trend. So as morning approaches, during that quiet serene time, you will check on that tenuous patient much more closely, to be sure that God has not reached down and taken them home. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or on the other end of that spectrum, in the hustle of the delivery room, as the light breaks forth with all its strength, then too the new life will be breaking through to draw its first breath and cry its loud cry. It is truly a magical time of day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During this time of year the sun stays up until almost 11:pm, by 4:30 am, the sun is already peeking its nose in between the curtains. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the dead of winter though, I see no light. I come to work in the dark and go home in the dark.....with no light in between. I go to bed as the sun is starting to peek out, and by the time I rise for work again, the darkness has already fallen. Is is any wonder so many in my profession suffer from various forms of depression. To rarely see the light of the sun is such an awful thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now, as my shift is approaching its end, I must go and start my morning work, so that I may go home and sleep.....and put behind me yet another long night's journey into day.......&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-460812327252494186?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/460812327252494186/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=460812327252494186&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/460812327252494186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/460812327252494186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/06/long-nights-journey-into-day.html' title='a long night&apos;s journey into day.....'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-5604180603050093938</id><published>2007-06-05T02:58:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T04:06:10.035-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I have been nominated....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/RmUnUfqPfbI/AAAAAAAAAB8/oJh3aV3fbVk/s1600-h/522252112_01ccf674d5_o.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/RmUnUfqPfbI/AAAAAAAAAB8/oJh3aV3fbVk/s320/522252112_01ccf674d5_o.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5072503788352273842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For a tenuous/obscure brush with fame by &lt;a href="http://moobz.com/?p=150"&gt;Moobs&lt;/a&gt;. A call was put forth for your most tenuous/obscure brush with fame, and to enter, you just commented and told them what it was. Here is my story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In 2000/2001 I worked on a very busy surgery unit in Saskatoon, SK. The one day I came to work I had a patient who was a member of the group STOMP. The had put on a show the previous night. This poor patient had actually suffered a ruptured appendix and was left behind along with one other group member to have surgery and recover and catch up with the rest of the tour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have never known or really met anyone who was remotely famous....except for some of the exceptional bloggers that I read. I have had many "second hand" associations with people of varying fame. Maybe some day........&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-5604180603050093938?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/5604180603050093938/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=5604180603050093938&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/5604180603050093938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/5604180603050093938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/06/i-have-been-nominated.html' title='I have been nominated....'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/RmUnUfqPfbI/AAAAAAAAAB8/oJh3aV3fbVk/s72-c/522252112_01ccf674d5_o.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-2685756591644978184</id><published>2007-06-03T22:49:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-06-03T23:00:05.113-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I really love my blog...........</title><content type='html'>.....and I love all the people who come to visit.  I have just not been my usual snarky, witty self.  I don't really know why....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that when I come here to check out my Blogroll and nothing shows as being updated, I get frustrated.  It has a lot to do with my attention deficit, I am sure.  I need sparkly things to attract my attention.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time to find my groove again........I need some inspiration.........&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-2685756591644978184?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/2685756591644978184/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=2685756591644978184&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/2685756591644978184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/2685756591644978184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/06/i-really-love-my-blog.html' title='I really love my blog...........'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-2758588636768231299</id><published>2007-05-29T21:07:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-05-29T21:44:18.472-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Facebook has Kidnapped me!!!!!</title><content type='html'>And I think the only ransom big enough to get me back is many many many comments on my posts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have gotten so enthralled with Facebook, finding old friends, new friends, family members.....that I have completely ignored my blog friends.....and then....a blogger friend invited me to be a blogger friend, then another one did, then another, then I was invited to a Bloggers Group on facebook then another friend.....and before you know it.......you are completely immersed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am totally loving the Facebook society....it is amazing. But I feel like I am ignoring my blogger friends....time to try to come back here.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, if any of you readers or fellow bloggers want to add me on Facebook...I will welcome your feeding my addiction.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-2758588636768231299?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/2758588636768231299/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=2758588636768231299&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/2758588636768231299'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/2758588636768231299'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/05/facebook-has-kidnapped-me.html' title='Facebook has Kidnapped me!!!!!'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-791626139764126642</id><published>2007-05-21T23:25:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-05-21T23:47:26.019-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Computer'/><title type='text'>So I was minding my own business, chatting with NewMan when</title><content type='html'>THE BLUE SCREEN OF DEATH!!!!!!!!!!!!! and then......all was very very quiet. Reboot laptop calmly... disk read error. Try again....disk read error. Try again....disk read error. fuck. Fuck! FUCK!!!!! My beloved laptop was gone. Even with my training in life saving techniques, nothing would bring her back to me. I put her on life support....she was in a vegetative state. I called Dr. NewMan. His prognosis was dismal. Looks like she wouldn't make it without a transplant. I had to find a donor.... I started out looking in the most ethical of places. I found one, rushed to harvest it. It didn't appear to be a match. I was crushed. I came home, deflated. My poor baby. I love her so much, I couldn't imagine saying good bye. So Dr. NewMan and I decided to search the black market. There were a few....I found one that seemed a match. Placed my order and hoped she would survive the time it would take to get it here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning we held a conference call. Dr. NewMan, Nurse Denise and myself. Nurse Denise was certain that I didn't need to search so far. She was sure the first one was an actual match. She gave us hope. I rushed back to try to harvest that original one. I got there, with the tricks Nurse Denise showed me, I found a match. Bigger and better than the one that had failed. I lovingly cradled it and brought it home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dr. NewMan and I embarked on the surgery, it was a difficult one, there was a lot of blood, sweat and tears. A lot of tugging, pushing, grinding of teeth. Then, it fit. We held our breath as we took off the life support and watched for signs of life. A MIRACLE!!!!! She lived!! She made it!! My beautiful wonderful friend! I have never been so happy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She isn't fully recovered yet. Her memory is shot, she doesn't remember all the places she has visited, but we are getting there. I have to take her on many outings to remind her of those. She still can't do everything she used to do, and she has picked up some strange applications in the recovery period, but we are working on those and weeding out the bad stuff. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am here, writing to you from my old friend.....my laptop..... life is good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-791626139764126642?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/791626139764126642/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=791626139764126642&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/791626139764126642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/791626139764126642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/05/so-i-was-minding-my-own-business.html' title='So I was minding my own business, chatting with NewMan when'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-9107354990160754827</id><published>2007-05-16T08:03:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-05-16T11:27:07.394-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I was tagged for a meme.......</title><content type='html'>I don't normally do these things.  When I get those emails that ask a bajillion questions about you and you are supposed to pass it on to everyone in your address book after answering the questions.....I usually read the answers then delete the email.....never answering the questions myself or forwarding it on.  I would have to guess that is why I do not get tagged for these things.  I want to thank "At Your Cervix" for tagging me and inviting me to join.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This particular meme was asking me to post eight habits/facts etc about me.... then to tag eight people to do the same.  Well, since I posted &lt;a href="http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/04/yay-this-is-my-100th-post-i-will-resume.html"&gt; 100 Things About Me&lt;/a&gt; recently, I figure you can go there.  I will not actually tag anyone either....since I flaked out on this one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-9107354990160754827?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/9107354990160754827/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=9107354990160754827&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/9107354990160754827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/9107354990160754827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/05/i-was-tagged-for-meme.html' title='I was tagged for a meme.......'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-9199504984777165039</id><published>2007-05-14T06:06:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-05-14T07:17:33.507-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I have my old template back!!  YAY!!!!</title><content type='html'>Sara over at &lt;a href="http://blogdecorator.blogspot.com/"&gt;Bling My Blog&lt;/a&gt; took my old graphics and made them work with new blogger!!!  I love this girl!!!  Thank you Sara!!  Go check out her site and leave her a note.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-9199504984777165039?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/9199504984777165039/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=9199504984777165039&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/9199504984777165039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/9199504984777165039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/05/i-have-my-old-template-back-yay.html' title='I have my old template back!!  YAY!!!!'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-5754882905589541609</id><published>2007-05-06T17:13:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-05-06T18:33:58.970-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Sound of Silence.................</title><content type='html'>...........is broken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Friday, my three older children went off with their father for weekend visitation. Now, I love my children, but I love me some peace and quiet too! A weekend of just Tuc and me and the TV. No bickering, no whining, no fighting.... heaven. Tuc was going to spend the day with his other step-siblings on Saturday as well....I was in for some good old "alone time".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I went to drop Tuc off, the mommy of the step-siblings said to leave him over night. So I &lt;strike&gt;got the hell out of there as fast as I could before she changed her mind&lt;/strike&gt; said "Thank you, that would be really nice for him" and came home to a quiet house, save for the dog whining in his kennel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent the evening chatting online with NewMan and then watched an SNL special, (actually, I watched part of it while chatting then shut it off so I could give NewMan my undivided attention. I finished watching it after he went to bed. I had trouble sleeping, so I watched Hotel Rwanda on the movie channel....because it was.....{insert sarcastic tone here} such a heartwarming movie that would lull me to sleep. I finally fell asleep about 2:am. I slept until almost 10am this morning.... so not usual for me, but so very much what I usually love to do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent the whole day in my bedroom, watching the Food Network and chatting with NewMan.....I so cannot wait until he is living here and we can spend our Sundays doing much more active things. He says he will get me up early in the mornings...I guess we will see...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then, Tuc came home this afternoon. He was crabby and whiny. He had hurt his hand and he does NOT like band aids........so every time he bumped it, he cried. I put him in the tub and he cried. Even washing his hair with mango shampoo did not help. He stood in his room naked, crying because he wanted to get his clothes back on. I finally went and got him into his pajamas. I made dinner, but he was mad because I cut up his fettuccine Alfredo. Then he cried because he didn't want white sauce. UGH!!!!!!! But now, he is eating, and much happier. I think it will be to bed early tonight for him.  After a little Mint Chocolate Chip ice cream.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-5754882905589541609?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/5754882905589541609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=5754882905589541609&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/5754882905589541609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/5754882905589541609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/05/sound-of-silence.html' title='The Sound of Silence.................'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-7184576123987628424</id><published>2007-05-02T14:48:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-05-02T15:18:33.952-06:00</updated><title type='text'>My son, the metrosexual.....</title><content type='html'>Does anyone still use that term?? Can you really apply it to a three year old? These are the questions today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Tuc. He is a sweetheart. He loves him some nail polish....and hair gel......and "wip bomb"....and "wotion". He is always asking his momma to lotion his back and feet and hands. Today, we even used the cuticle oil. He adores bubble baths, and always comes to me afterwards and says, "smell my hair, it smells like strawberries". He likes to "powder his butt".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is always searching for the pants, with pockets....this child refuses to wear sweatpants. He likes his clothes to match (except for his socks, they must be mismatched, but that is another story).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He loves going to the hairdresser to get his hair cut, and when I am blow drying my own, always asks "blow me too, mom" (not even touching that one). All I can say is, he is well groomed for a three year old boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have really no idea how he got this way, except for that he spends a lot of time with his momma and sister. God knows his brothers are NOT groomers...even the 15yr old can lack in that department, and you all know the problems that face the pre-teen boy and their aversion to soap and water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess we'll see what happens once the boy hits those pre-teen years.....of course, he will have a new role model, NewMan.....who is a "groomer" too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-7184576123987628424?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/7184576123987628424/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=7184576123987628424&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/7184576123987628424'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/7184576123987628424'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/05/my-son-metrosexual.html' title='My son, the metrosexual.....'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-8661138498125934495</id><published>2007-04-30T01:45:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-04-30T02:18:03.806-06:00</updated><title type='text'>In Memory of Gabriel Trey ~ 10 years</title><content type='html'>Today is the 10th anniversary of the birth and passing of my son, Gabriel Trey. I truly cannot believe it has been ten years already. There are times when I think of what he would have been like. Who he would have looked like. How different my other children's lives would have been had he survived. If he had been normal....if he had been disabled....how different would my own life have been. I can still close my eyes and so vividly remember the events that happened all around my pregnancy and loss. I remember distinctly, things people said and did. I remember feeling so numb, and yet so ultra sensitive and aware of all that was going on around me. I remember holding him, so tiny, in one hand. I remember smelling him and just not wanting to let him go. Not wanting to believe it was really happening. I remember so well the nurses that cared for me during that time, in particular, Vonnie, who had been an RN on the ward when I was a student there. She, herself, pregnant at the time of Gabriel's passing. She came in and sat on my bed and just talked to me, she was so kind and caring. It meant so much to me. And the other nurse, whose name escapes me at the moment, who took Gabriel and dressed him and baptized him. Her name is on his baptism certificate. She took his tiny, perfect little foot and made a print on the back of that card, so I would always remember that despite his profound anomaly, there were parts of him that were perfect. And I remember Donna, the RN who was my mentor a year later, when I preceptored on Labour &amp; Delivery on that same unit, who encouraged me to look at and take home the pictures that had been taken of him that day...while she and I were preparing another stillborn infant for a family to hold. I want to thank all of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The following is a copy from a webpage that I had constructed back then, to chronicle the events as they unfurled. It is hard to re-read it, to relive those events. But I feel the need to go back there today, to remember, and to be grateful. Yes, GRATEFUL. Because, you see, if it had not been for this event in my life, so many other things may not have happened. I for sure would not have had my daughter. I would not have gone back to nursing school after a six year break and finished to become an RN. I would not have been the one, that night, to help that other family go through a tragic loss, to have the experience to know just what to say to that baby's mother. I also would not have been involved in an online community of women who were all Pregnant After Loss. And from there, would not have met another wonderful group of women whom I have come to love over at the DHS bulletin board. I believe also, that had it not been for that very sad event, I may never have had the courage or confidence to have picked myself up after the failure of my marriage, and may never have allowed myself to be loved by NewMan, who was a source of support and comfort even back during those difficult days surrounding my loss. I have often believed that Gabriel was really never meant to be an earthly being. I believe he was sent to me by God to give me a nudge in the right direction. He was my angel, my messenger, bringing me the message to start doing things for me. Thank you, my son.......thank you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Written in May 1997 &lt;br /&gt;First of all I really want to thank everyone who has written to us and has kept us in their thoughts and prayers. It means very much to us that so many people care. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those who do not know of our situation, I will tell the story. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Friday April 25th, 1997 I went for an ultrasound of our third baby. On examination, it was found that our baby has a severe congenital defect called an encephalocele. We are awaiting more tests on Monday and then we will know further of what our options will be. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Monday April 28th, 1997 we went to have a more in depth ultrasound done. The scan showed that the defect was even worse than first suspected. There was no hope for this baby to live. We met with our obstetrician and were given two options. One would be to deliver the baby now and lessen the risks of complications to me, or to wait until I went into labour on my own and deliver a full term baby. We were told to go home and think about our decision. To take as much time as we needed. We are Roman Catholic and found the decision a very difficult one to make. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Tuesday April 29th, 1997 after talking most of the night, we decided to contact our priest and find out their views on the matter. The priest came to our home and talked to us. He told us that in our circumstance that if we chose to deliver our baby now, that it would be viewed by the church as a miscarriage because there was no chance for a viable life. He blessed us, said a prayer and gave me the anointing of the sick. At 2:pm we were admitted to the hospital and the delivery was started. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Wednesday April 30th, 1997 at 12:40 pm, my baby was delivered. We had a baby boy. They took him away to clean him up. They brought him back to me wrapped in a little flannel bunting bag and blanket. I got to see him and say goodbye. The nurse had baptized the baby and we named him Gabriel Trey. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Friday May 2, 1997, we held a small memorial service in memory of Gabriel Trey. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you again for thoughts and Prayers &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;REMEMBERING&lt;br /&gt;by Elizabeth Denton&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go ahead and mention my child, &lt;br /&gt;the one that died, you know. &lt;br /&gt;Don't worry about hurting me further, &lt;br /&gt;the depth of my pain doesn't show. &lt;br /&gt;Don't worry about making me cry, &lt;br /&gt;I'm already crying inside. &lt;br /&gt;Help me to heal by releasing, &lt;br /&gt;the tears that I try to hide. &lt;br /&gt;I'm hurt when you just keep silent, &lt;br /&gt;pretending he didn't exist. &lt;br /&gt;I'd rather you mention my child, &lt;br /&gt;knowing that he has been missed. &lt;br /&gt;You asked me how I was doing, &lt;br /&gt;I say, "Pretty good" or "fine". &lt;br /&gt;But healing is something ongoing, &lt;br /&gt;I feel it will take a lifetime. &lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-8661138498125934495?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/8661138498125934495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=8661138498125934495&amp;isPopup=true' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/8661138498125934495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/8661138498125934495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/04/in-memory-of-gabriel-trey-10-years.html' title='In Memory of Gabriel Trey ~ 10 years'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-4056140693416125296</id><published>2007-04-27T11:10:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-04-27T15:11:15.545-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Open Forum - questions from Jessica</title><content type='html'>Jessica from &lt;a href="http://rebelliouschild.blogspot.com/"&gt;Diary of a Rebellious Child&lt;/a&gt; asked me a few questions that she uses as impromptu speeches for her students. The questions she posed to me were&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;most embarrassing moment, proudest moment, best childhood memory, worst childhood memory, if you could change one decision you have made, what would it be and why&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And although I have probably answered some of these in previous posts, I will do my best to answer them again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let us begin..........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My most embarrassing moment....oh lord. There are just so many to choose from. So very many. So very very numerous incidents from my Adventures in Dorkdom. Maybe that should just be a whole new blog venture for me. My Adventures in Dorkdom. I am certain I could get all kinds of guest posters to write about ME and my eternal Dorkiness.....what do you think, NewMan??? Can you come up with a few stories to tell on me??? It is funny how some people can take embarrassment in stride, they turn a little pink and laugh and it is over. Others will get angry and humiliated to a point where they will explode. I tend to be somewhere in the middle. When I was younger, I hated anything that would be embarrassing because being the youngest of five kids, and a dorky kid as well, anything that could be used to humiliate and cut someone to the core would be used to its fullest. So even now, as an adult, I still get defensive and uncomfortable about anything that could cause embarrassment. I am careful to always try to know as much as I can about whatever I am doing so as to never appear ignorant. I would never burp, or f*a*r*t in public. Heck, anything bathroom related is kept at the highest of security. So for me to even begin to divulge an embarrassing moment here to the world would be a major violation of my code of conduct.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My proudest moment would be the day I graduated from Nursing School. I talked about this in my last post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My best childhood memories all seem to revolve around my father. He was the one who was home with me for most of my childhood. My mom worked, my dad was retired. Sunday mornings making bacon and eggs after church. Drinking coffee and just talking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My worst childhood memories would have to revolve around the loss of my grandmother. I was only eight years old, and I was so very sad when she died. Also, at the age of twelve, I lost my niece to leukemia. That was a very very sad time too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for the one decision I wish I could change, I am not sure there is one. I truly believe that everything happens for a reason. It is a ripple effect. There is a movie called &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0289879/"&gt;The Butterfly Effect&lt;/a&gt; where a kid goes back in time to change the events of his life to try to make things better. Every time he changes one thing, something else goes wrong. I believe that that would be how it would be if we had the capability to change decisions. At this point in my life, I am very happy. Even with all of the bad things that have happened in my past, if I hadn't lived them, I wouldn't be here. I am the sum of all my experiences, if not for everyone of them, I would not be the person I am today....the person who is loved so completely and unconditionally by the most wonderful man in the world. I wouldn't change a thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, Jessica, time for your own question:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can you think of an event in your life that has completely shaped your life in a positive or negative way?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-4056140693416125296?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/4056140693416125296/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=4056140693416125296&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/4056140693416125296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/4056140693416125296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/04/open-forum-questions-from-jessica.html' title='Open Forum - questions from Jessica'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-4461827621938780314</id><published>2007-04-26T09:59:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-04-26T10:45:10.098-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Open Forum - question from Mel</title><content type='html'>Mel from &lt;a href="http://melinor.blogspot.com/"&gt;Melanie in Orygun&lt;/a&gt; asked me to&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Name the five best days of your life&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pretty good question really. As a mommy, I am thinking that I may be obligated to name the births of my children as four of the five, but frankly, even though I love my children (for the most part anyway), I really could not name the days of THEIR births as among the BEST days of MY life. Let me explain that a bit, really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When my oldest was born, I was induced, two days running. I ended up giving into the epidural temptation (I am not knocking them, but they are NOT for me), thus having my labour arrested, ending up with a c-section, an allergic reaction to the tape they put on my back, and a case of post-partum depression. It was not exactly a red letter day for me. With my second, I was put in the hospital with high blood pressure, induced, ended up with the epidural again, arrested labour again, argued and cried about not wanting another c-section, delivered by forceps and 4th degree tear, and a baby that was taken away to the NICU for about 12 hours. Again, not lovely. My daughter was born in the early hours of Christmas Eve. My husband was actually annoyed because he was supposed to fly to work that morning and I ruined his plans. Her delivery went well, but he did leave Christmas morning, I was left in the hospital, no visitors on Christmas Day, then, went home to two little boys and husband at work. He finally did come home on New Years Eve, then proceeded to pack up and move out on New Year's Day. My fourth....I was loaded in the back of an ambulance and taken to the big hospital after about 20 hours of non-progressive labour, only to find that he was laying sideways and I was in line for another c-section. YAY!!! Then he ended up with a hole in his lung and we spent 11 days in the NICU and 6 weeks on home oxygen. Childbirth, on a whole, was never the best time for me. Luckily, my pregnancies always were fairly easy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, to name the five best days of my life. This has taken some real thought. I would have to say collectively, the days that my children first said, "I love you, mom" Definitely a big day each time it happened. Certain accomplishments that they have achieved have also been big days for me, but I really cannot choose any one. I think for myself, the day I graduated from Nursing School and became an RN. It was something I had wanted since I was very young. It was also something that my father wanted. He always felt that nursing was a noble profession and he was very proud of me when I started nursing school. He never really knew I graduated, since by that time he had Alzheimer's. I like to believe that he does know now, since he has passed away. The second best day of my life was when I signed the papers to purchase my home....I did it myself. It is mine. That was a proud accomplishment for me. Also the day I bought my new car, by myself. Again, an accomplishment that I had never done on my own. All big deals for me, all showing myself and everyone around me that I was capable, independent and confident.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, hands down, the very best day of my life was January 5th, 2000. This was the day that I met NewMan for the very first time face to face. We had known each other online for a few years, and in the months preceding this meeting, we had been doing the online dating thing, and talking on the phone daily, during which time, we had already fallen in love. You may wonder how a person can fall in love with another without ever having seen them, touched them, looked in their eyes. Well, I can attest to the fact that you can. All those months, we had nothing more than conversation to fill our time. We talked of everything from the very important life issues, to the silly everyday things that people talk about. When we had a problem, we had no choice but to work it through, in conversation, as there was no other way. We have now developed a level of communication that exceeds anything I have never experienced before. It is amazing. In adjunct to this day, the day that we found each other again and saw each other again, after six years apart, were equally as amazing. Realizing that the love we had for one another had actually grown in our time apart. We knew that what we shared was very special indeed. And in looking forward, I know that the very best day of my life is yet to come....the day NewMan and I finally marry and embark on the journey that will be the rest of our lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Melanie, now in turn you must answer something for me in your blog. Talk about the day you met the love of your life. What do you remember about that day? What things had to fall into place to make it happen??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, anyone reading this, keep on posting me questions on my &lt;a href="http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/04/open-forum.html"&gt;Open Forum&lt;/a&gt; post.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-4461827621938780314?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/4461827621938780314/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=4461827621938780314&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/4461827621938780314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/4461827621938780314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/04/open-forum-question-from-mel.html' title='Open Forum - question from Mel'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-7297847183385224092</id><published>2007-04-24T10:55:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-04-24T11:04:04.432-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Back from my trip</title><content type='html'>I had an awesome time, again.  The kids were well behaved according to my mother.  I hated leaving NewMan at the airport....it was 10 times worse this time than last.  I still get tears in my eyes thinking about the last kiss before walking away........torture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will resume the Open Forum posts later tonight or tomorrow.  Keep asking those questions!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-7297847183385224092?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/7297847183385224092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=7297847183385224092&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/7297847183385224092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/7297847183385224092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/04/back-from-my-trip.html' title='Back from my trip'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-5178827542705632445</id><published>2007-04-17T23:27:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-04-17T23:29:49.171-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I am off to Chicago!!!!!!</title><content type='html'>Just a quick note to let everyone know I am off for 5 days to Chicago to see NewMan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Continue asking questions on my Open Forum.  Comment on my 100th Post......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will be back to reply after April 24th.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-5178827542705632445?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/5178827542705632445/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=5178827542705632445&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/5178827542705632445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/5178827542705632445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/04/i-am-off-to-chicago.html' title='I am off to Chicago!!!!!!'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-9113209355571880588</id><published>2007-04-16T03:07:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-04-16T09:42:04.807-06:00</updated><title type='text'>YAY!!!  This is my 100th Post!!! (I will resume Open Forum after this post)</title><content type='html'>So, in honour of such, I suppose I should post 100 things about me..... I can't guarantee they will be all that exciting or even make a lot of sense, since....it is 3:am and this is my 6th 12 hour night shift in 7 days. Wouldn't it be cool if I got 100 comments on my 100th post which is about 100 things about me????  Post me a link to your 100th post on your blog.  Tell me the things off my list that you and I have in common.  Bring all your friends as well.  Help me celebrate my 100th post!!!!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I am 40yrs old.&lt;br /&gt;2. I am Canadian.&lt;br /&gt;3. I am a mother.&lt;br /&gt;4. I am a girlfriend to the greatest guy in the world!! I love you, NewMan!&lt;br /&gt;5. I am a sister.&lt;br /&gt;6. I am a daughter.&lt;br /&gt;7. I am an aunty.&lt;br /&gt;8. I am a great aunty (as in, my nieces and nephews have children of their own)&lt;br /&gt;9. I am a Registered Nurse.&lt;br /&gt;10. I am an ex-wife.&lt;br /&gt;11. I am 5'3" tall&lt;br /&gt;12. If you think I am going to tell you how much I weigh, you are nuts.&lt;br /&gt;13. I have blue eyes.&lt;br /&gt;14. I am not sure what colour my hair would be if I let it go natural.&lt;br /&gt;15. I was born with dark hair.&lt;br /&gt;16. When I was young my hair was blonde.&lt;br /&gt;17. I drive a red Sebring.&lt;br /&gt;18. My first car was a dark blue 1986 Tempo.&lt;br /&gt;19. I bought that car before I actually had a driver's license.&lt;br /&gt;20. I was 23 when I got my driver's license.&lt;br /&gt;21. I am an ex-smoker.&lt;br /&gt;22. My favourite colour changes depending on my current mood. Right now, it is red.&lt;br /&gt;23. I have an aversion to other people's feet, except for NewMan's feet.&lt;br /&gt;24. Especially gnarly little granny feet.&lt;br /&gt;25. I have a tattoo.&lt;br /&gt;26. I would love another tattoo.&lt;br /&gt;27. I have my ears pierced, twice.&lt;br /&gt;28. I do not have any other piercings.&lt;br /&gt;29. I do not WANT any other piercings.&lt;br /&gt;30. I wear gel nails, even though my employer says it is against the rules.&lt;br /&gt;31. I don't like to follow the rules.&lt;br /&gt;32. I will do almost anything for chocolate.&lt;br /&gt;33. My favourite food is Asian inspired cuisine.&lt;br /&gt;34. I love wine.&lt;br /&gt;35. I love tequila.&lt;br /&gt;36. I used to drink a lot more alcohol than I do now.&lt;br /&gt;37. The last alcoholic drink I had was in January with NewMan, we had champagne.&lt;br /&gt;38. I am a procrastinator.&lt;br /&gt;39. I suck at housework.&lt;br /&gt;40. I like tapioca pudding.&lt;br /&gt;41. I think I am funny.&lt;br /&gt;42. I don't like people who don't think I am funny.&lt;br /&gt;43. I do not tolerate intolerance.&lt;br /&gt;44. I believe in the motto of Live and Let Live.&lt;br /&gt;45. Unless it is a mosquito, then it is, DIE SUCKER DIE!!!!&lt;br /&gt;50. I believe in ghosts.&lt;br /&gt;51. I believe in God.&lt;br /&gt;52. I have a profile on Facebook.&lt;br /&gt;53. I am probably way too old to have a profile on Facebook.&lt;br /&gt;54. I can't understand why more of my old friends do NOT have profiles on Facebook.&lt;br /&gt;55. I do not like country music.&lt;br /&gt;56. I love going to the movies.&lt;br /&gt;57. I do not like going to concerts.&lt;br /&gt;58. I am practically deaf in my right ear.&lt;br /&gt;59. I have to sleep on the side of the bed closest to the door.&lt;br /&gt;60. I do not like caged birds.&lt;br /&gt;61. Sometimes I feel like a caged bird.&lt;br /&gt;62. I really hate this one bird that sings outside my bedroom in the mornings.&lt;br /&gt;63. I wish my cat would eat that bird.&lt;br /&gt;64. I used to be addicted to chatting on the Internet.&lt;br /&gt;65. Now I am addicted to reading blogs on the Internet.&lt;br /&gt;66. My new addiction does not affect my life nearly as much as the old one did.&lt;br /&gt;67. I am an office supply junkie.&lt;br /&gt;68. I love electronic gadgets (mind out of gutter).&lt;br /&gt;69. The number 69 always makes me laugh.&lt;br /&gt;70. I wear glasses.&lt;br /&gt;71. I am not a morning person.&lt;br /&gt;72. I used to be a secretary.&lt;br /&gt;73. I am a TV junkie.&lt;br /&gt;74. I love Fruit Loops.&lt;br /&gt;75. I am really tired right now.&lt;br /&gt;76. I don't answer my door if I am not expecting company.&lt;br /&gt;77. I rarely answer my phone unless it is NewMan calling.&lt;br /&gt;78. I never forward those emails that circle the web over and over.&lt;br /&gt;79. There is not one of those jokes, prayers, warnings, etc that I have not seen&lt;br /&gt;80. I write a mean limerick (I will write one for you if you ask)&lt;br /&gt;81. I sing along with my MP3 player in the car.&lt;br /&gt;82. I love to sing.&lt;br /&gt;83. I can't carry a tune in a bucket.&lt;br /&gt;85. My dog howls when I sing to him.&lt;br /&gt;86. I was 14 when I had my first boyfriend.&lt;br /&gt;87. I started dating my first husband when I was in Grade 11.&lt;br /&gt;88. He was my "first".&lt;br /&gt;89. NewMan was my "second".....the first time we were dating.&lt;br /&gt;90. NewMan will be my last.&lt;br /&gt;91. I am happy about that.&lt;br /&gt;92. I love comedians.&lt;br /&gt;93. I don't give a damn about British Royalty.&lt;br /&gt;94. I wear earplugs when I sleep during the day when I am working nights.&lt;br /&gt;95. I have baskets of clean, unfolded laundry all over my house.&lt;br /&gt;96. I would love to live on an acreage with a menagerie of animals.&lt;br /&gt;97. I have foil on my bedroom window and it isn't to keep out messages from aliens.&lt;br /&gt;98. I love Coke Zero.&lt;br /&gt;99. I am addicted to coffee.&lt;br /&gt;100. I am done this list.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-9113209355571880588?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/9113209355571880588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=9113209355571880588&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/9113209355571880588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/9113209355571880588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/04/yay-this-is-my-100th-post-i-will-resume.html' title='YAY!!!  This is my 100th Post!!! (I will resume Open Forum after this post)'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-7890205223175195004</id><published>2007-04-13T23:01:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-04-15T08:45:34.063-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ME'/><title type='text'>Open Forum - Questions from Jess</title><content type='html'>Continue to post questions for me in the OPEN FORUM post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jess over at &lt;a href="http://othejoys.blogspot.com/"&gt;Oh, The Joys&lt;/a&gt; has asked me a LOT of questions. I plan to try to answer them as best as I can. Her questions are:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Where did you grow up, what were your parents like, how did they shape who you would become, who was your first love - the whole story on that - and then the whole story on every love since him - up to now.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where did I grow up??? I am not sure if I have grown up quite yet. But my childhood was spent in the small city of &lt;a href="http://www.city.melville.sk.ca/siteengine/activepage.asp?bhcp=1"&gt;Melville, Saskatchewan&lt;/a&gt;. I went to St. Henry's Catholic School (no Catholic School Girl jokes please) up to grade 9. Then I attended the Melville Comprehensive High School for grades 10-12. I did a lot more partying than studying back then. I was a bit of a badass. I smoked ...... &lt;em&gt;"stuff"&lt;/em&gt;.... I drank....I skipped school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was the youngest of five kids. I have two brothers and two sisters. None of which are very close to me in age. I think by the time I came to the teen years, my parents were just really tired. My mom was 35 when I was born, and she worked as a nurses aide and was seldom around when I was growing up. My &lt;a href="http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2006/11/my-father-was-veteran-from-world-war-ii.html"&gt;Father&lt;/a&gt; was 24 years older than my mother. So, if you do the math, he was 59 when I was born. He was the most influential in my growing up, as he was the one who I spent the majority of my time with. He taught me to strive for intelligent conversation, to exercise my mind, not to waste an opportunity to learn something. That is what I do with blogging.....I read and learn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for the loves of my life....well....I was married, as you all know. We were high school sweethearts, and it was expected of us to marry...so we did. We divorced. I was involved with another man for a few years, that did not go well, even if it did produce my little TucMan. I talk about both of those relationships in my other blog, Imperfect Perfections. You can read that article &lt;a href="http://mylifesperfection.blogspot.com/2006/11/toxic-relationships.html"&gt; here&lt;/a&gt;. I am now with my soul mate, the love of my life.....NewMan. I have never felt happier or more secure in any relationship in my life. I have spoken about him here several times. You can read one of those articles &lt;a href="http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/02/since-i-was-encouraged-to-do-so.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe that we are all on this earth to teach lessons to one another. I believe that we do not leave this earth until all our lessons are taught and learned. I believe that some of us have a lot of lessons to teach and learn, and some of us not as many. I believe that most of the time we are not even aware of the lessons we are teaching others, and some of the time we are not aware of what we are being taught.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jess, my question for you..... can you think of a specific lesson that your mere existence in this world has taught someone else?? Can you think of a lesson that you learned from a brief encounter with a complete stranger that changed the way you think, act, etc???&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-7890205223175195004?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/7890205223175195004/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=7890205223175195004&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/7890205223175195004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/7890205223175195004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/04/open-forum-questions-from-jess.html' title='Open Forum - Questions from Jess'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-6010767152787054360</id><published>2007-04-12T22:59:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-04-15T08:46:33.085-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ME'/><title type='text'>Open Forum - questions from Audrey</title><content type='html'>Continue to post your questions for this &lt;a href="http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/04/open-forum.html"&gt;Open Forum&lt;/a&gt; and I will answer them in the order in which they are asked. Each inquisitor will get their own post and a set of questions from me which they will need to answer in their own blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now on to the question from Audrey at &lt;a href="http://www.sangrialover.com/"&gt;Sangria Lover&lt;/a&gt;. Her question for me is, "If you could move anywhere in the world, where would you go and why"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I grew up in a small city in south-east Saskatchewan. I lived there for 18 years. Finished high school and got the heck out of dodge. I migrated north to Saskatoon. Both of my sisters lived there with their families and it just seemed like the natural choice. I worked for a couple years, went to university for a few years. Then I got engaged and took a year off work. I moved back home with my mom &amp; dad. I planned my wedding, worked in the nursing home as a nurse's aide. Then when I got married, I moved back to Saskatoon and went back to nursing school. My three older children were all born in Saskatoon. The son I lost is buried in Saskatoon, as is my father. I moved to Alberta in 2001. As much as I love it here, this never has felt like home. I have always longed to be back in Saskatoon nestled in my family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would also love to travel the world. I have only travelled to a few places in the US....a few places in Canada......but that is it. I would love to travel to South America, Europe, Asia....basically.....I would love to travel the world. I want to see Scotland, as I have Scots heritage. I would love to go to Paris with NewMan. I would like to go to London England, as that is where my father was stationed during WW2 and he talked of it often. NewMan often talks of places he has travelled to and would like to take me to....I would go anywhere in the world with him, experiencing what he has experienced .... with him at my side.... with my children too.... teaching them that the world does not end at the edge of this small town that we live in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the short answer to this question is, I would love to be centered back in Saskatoon, with my family all close at hand....but I would love to be everywhere in the world as well, learning about the cultures, customs, experiencing life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can you all tell that my favourite Reality Show is Amazing Race?????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now for your questions, Audrey......"If you could go on any Reality Show, which one would you go on and why? Who would you take with you (if you needed a partner)? Play to win or play true to your personality? What is that personality??" I know that is way more than one question, but, you need to answer all of those to give perspective.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-6010767152787054360?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/6010767152787054360/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=6010767152787054360&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/6010767152787054360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/6010767152787054360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/04/open-forum-questions-from-audrey.html' title='Open Forum - questions from Audrey'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-1540171732537866405</id><published>2007-04-12T03:38:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-04-12T05:04:47.008-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Nurse in Me'/><title type='text'>Open Forum - Questions from At Your Cervix</title><content type='html'>I will be tackling the questions posed to me separately in each post. Continue to post your questions for me in the comments of the original Open Forum post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My first questions come from a Labour and Delivery Nurse @ &lt;a href="http://atyourcervix.blogspot.com/"&gt;At Your Cervix&lt;/a&gt;. She is curious about my feelings on Rural Nursing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;What do you love about small rural hospital nursing? What bugs the heck out of you about rural hospital nursing?&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I happen to work in a very active rural hospital where we do acute care nursing. The services we offer here include Medicine, Surgery, Labour &amp; Delivery, Post Partum, and Rehabilitation. We have our share of psych patients as well. There are 16 Acute care beds, 10 beds designated for Alternate Level of Care/Rehab and 1 observation bed for more critical patients such as Cardiacs. We also have a 24hour ER and an Outpatient clinic during the day. We mostly work 12 hour shifts and we are staffed as such..... on day shift, 2 RN's, 2 LPN's and 2 PCA's (only until noon). On night shift, 2 RN's, 2 LPN's (until 11pm, then one goes home) and 1 PCA until 11pm. So, as you can see, most of the time we are fairly busy. I work mostly night shifts, but we do bounce back and forth from days to nights.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would have to say the thing I like most about working in the rural hospital is the sense of community. There is a camaraderie among the staff that is not typical. I think it may have something to do with being "in the trenches" together so much of the time. In our hospital in particular, there is no real division between the RN's, LPN's, PCA's, housekeeping, dietary, etc. We all work together, sit together at meal breaks, socialize together at functions. As a for instance, right now it is about 4:45am. in about 40 minutes the first kitchen staff member will be coming in to work. There is one of these girls that always takes note of whose cars are in the parking lot, then proceeds to make coffee and bring down a cup for each of us who drinks coffee. She even has memorized that I take only cream in my coffee, no sugar, because I am sweet enough. On busy days when we are run off our feet and don't make it down to the cafeteria for a meal break, the cook will often notice that we haven't come, and she will fix up a cart full of food and bring it down for us to grab as we run.....FREE OF CHARGE to us. Those are things that just do not happen in most larger centers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lot of the patients are people we know from the community as well. They aren't just patients to us. They are neighbours, friends, family.... You don't tend to reduce them to their condition, they are real people and they matter. And if you, as one of the co-workers, have the misfortune of being a patient, you are treated with the best of Tender Loving Care that can be found.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I don't like about working in a small rural hospital is that there is always the uncertainty. On any given day, you have no clue what may come through the ER. Or if it will be someone you know, love, dislike...whatever....and whomever it is, they are looking to you to take care of them the absolute best way you can. We do not have residents that stay in the hospital 24/7. When something comes in to our hospital, we have to assess the patient, call the doctor on call, often waking them from a deep sleep, and try to convey our findings to them so they can make a decision about care. For the most part, our doctors here are good, and come to see all patients who come for care, whatever time of the day or night. As nurses, we also show the doctors courtesy and respect and if we feel there isn't urgency, we will "sit on" a patient until morning and not wake the doctor. I don't like always being the front line person. I don't like having a woman in labour come in pushing and having to catch a baby with no doctor in the room. I don't like having a patient take a turn for the worse and code on me without any code team to call and back me up. I don't like having to be a Jack of All Trades and expected to be Master of All Trades too. It would be so much easier to just have a specialty and stick to one thing. It is nothing for us to have a woman in labour and a cardiac walk in, and one or possibly two palliative patients circling bowl, so to speak. It is stressful, and we are terribly understaffed. We rely on our part time people to pick up the slack for vacation and sick coverage, because we don't have enough casual staff members. It is a constant struggle to walk the line between enough work, too much work, not enough time off, and family time. As a single mom, I am stretched even thinner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the most part, rural nursing is rewarding, but along with those rewards comes stress and frustration. I have worked in larger centers on specialized units....I know there is stress and frustration there too.....I think nursing as a whole in this country, Canada, and in the US as well, if fraught with major frustration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My question for At Your Cervix is now......&lt;br /&gt;What do you see as the major difference between what I do and what you do and do you feel that one is better than the other?? Why?? And do you have any ideas on how to ease the frustrations?? There are three questions, you can sue me back!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-1540171732537866405?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/1540171732537866405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=1540171732537866405&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/1540171732537866405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/1540171732537866405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/04/open-forum-questions-from-at-your.html' title='Open Forum - Questions from At Your Cervix'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-7086543848461134418</id><published>2007-04-11T04:19:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T04:06:10.400-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ME'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Mama'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Nurse in Me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My Weird Mind'/><title type='text'>Open Forum</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/Rhy9_aDXu-I/AAAAAAAAABw/IUoDWPuTY1U/s1600-h/ellen1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/Rhy9_aDXu-I/AAAAAAAAABw/IUoDWPuTY1U/s320/ellen1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052121779025722338" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been scraping the lint encrusted crevices of my brain to come up with something interesting for me to write about. As seems to happen so very often, I am stumped. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again, I am sitting here at work, trying desperately to keep my eyes open. Why is it topics that seem wildly entertaining and witty at 4:22AM appear to be just mindless drivel in the light of day?? I have started several topics over the last couple of nights only to have them look so ridiculous when I get home that I trash them completely. So, my loyal readers, (all two of you....one of which I am sleeping with *wink*), I implore you to give me fodder to write on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am opening up the phone lines and I am taking calls. Whatever is on your mind, just come on out and ask me. Have a question for me about my job, my life, my kids?? Go ahead and ask. Have a topic that you would like me to give my editorial commentary on?? Post it in the comments. I will do my best to write on any subject, answer any question, give my opinion or advice on any pressing concern you may have. However, I do reserve the right to censor any freaks, weirdos, perverts (yes, NewMan, that means you too), and other undesirables out of my comments. I will endeavour to do my utmost to be as honest, sincere and entertaining as possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have had to reinstate the commenting rules again, however. You have to have a blogger account and the word verification thingy has been turned back on, because of some spammers hate comments that were plugged into my comment box.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OH, and I almost forgot....if you do post me a question, you have to be prepared to answer one back for me, on YOUR blog......and if you don't have a blog......in my comments. That isn't too much to ask in return, is it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let the games begin........&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-7086543848461134418?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/7086543848461134418/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=7086543848461134418&amp;isPopup=true' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/7086543848461134418'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/7086543848461134418'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/04/open-forum.html' title='Open Forum'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/Rhy9_aDXu-I/AAAAAAAAABw/IUoDWPuTY1U/s72-c/ellen1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-6160314639563820785</id><published>2007-04-08T09:57:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T04:06:10.573-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Easter!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/RhkSHjOBQ7I/AAAAAAAAABo/DCEQe90zGW8/s1600-h/etherbunny.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/RhkSHjOBQ7I/AAAAAAAAABo/DCEQe90zGW8/s320/etherbunny.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5051088377995150258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Ether Bunny!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-6160314639563820785?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/6160314639563820785/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=6160314639563820785&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/6160314639563820785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/6160314639563820785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/04/happy-easter.html' title='Happy Easter!!!'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/RhkSHjOBQ7I/AAAAAAAAABo/DCEQe90zGW8/s72-c/etherbunny.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-5071139948134709871</id><published>2007-04-05T18:00:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-04-07T15:38:26.805-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Mama'/><title type='text'>On being a single mom.......</title><content type='html'>I am inspired by a post by Sara at &lt;a href="http://smcarney.blogspot.com/"&gt;The Estrogen Files&lt;/a&gt;. She believes that single moms should not date until the children have left home. I respect her opinion, for her own life. She lives in a wonderful marriage, she has a belief system and moral code that dictates she not divorce. I am happy for her. I wish I had chosen the right husband the first time around and would not have had to put my children through divorce. But that was not meant to be for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, I also do not believe that my children would have benefit from me being lonely and unhappy until they left home either. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did not choose to be a single mother. My first marriage dissolved after years of mutual emotional abuse. It was unhealthy for me, my ex-husband, and our children. He was unhappy, I was depressed, the children were a mess. He left and I picked up the pieces of my life. A year later, I met a wonderful man.....we knew we were soul mates. My children didn't meet him until almost 2 years after my husband and I split. We were all happy. But something happened and caused us to split up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had another relationship, never married, but had another child. That relationship was not good for a long time, but I tried really hard to keep it together. For the sake of the children.........only I found out later that I was forsaking the children with that relationship. They were miserable, as was I and as was he. I finally set him free, so to speak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I have reunited with the man I was involved with after my first marriage dissolved. We believe now, more than ever, that we are soul mates. We have forged a bond that is not to be broken again. We know that bond was essentially forged several years ago when we were first together. Now, if I had met him first, I may believe what Sara believes, that there would be no other marriage in my life. I know that with this man.........my children will only benefit, blossom, grow and flourish in the love that NewMan and I share. He believes in family and children and we have similar beliefs and moral code.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do not believe my children would have been happy if I had chosen to be alone and lonely and bitter.....I do not think they would have been happy if I only lived for them.........a person, even a mother, has to live for themselves. This does not mean that I don't put my children first, it means I do what I believe to be best for them. In my life, what was best for them was for me to divorce my first husband, to try to find happiness, even if that means making a few mistakes along the road.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that different people have different life experience that brings them to different conclusions.....and for me, this is right.....for Sara, her beliefs are right for her. I truly do not believe in forcing my views on someone else, but in being respectful to everyone for their own beliefs.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-5071139948134709871?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/5071139948134709871/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=5071139948134709871&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/5071139948134709871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/5071139948134709871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/04/on-being-single-mom.html' title='On being a single mom.......'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-4680144517699264004</id><published>2007-04-03T11:20:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T04:06:10.814-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fashionless'/><title type='text'>Sometimes the line between high fashion and "what the hell happened?" can get a little blurry</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/RhKbEKC5UVI/AAAAAAAAABY/gz_YrI8KEDc/s1600-h/wannacomeoutandplay.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/RhKbEKC5UVI/AAAAAAAAABY/gz_YrI8KEDc/s320/wannacomeoutandplay.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5049268627954028882" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am having a fashion dilemma. Basically, I have not fashion sense at all. For most of my adult life I have lived in nursing scrubs, and pajamas. Jeans and T-shirts to go out. The very odd occasion I have had to dress up have sent me into a tailspin culminating in me ending up sitting in a corner playing with my toes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not one who ever wanted to draw attention to myself. I have always hidden behind bulky clothing and drab colors, in order to blend in. But now, I feel like it is time for this butterfly to come out of her cocoon. NewMan is a wonderful dresser. He is classy and always looks amazing. I need to fit in with this! I want to fit in.......but for so long I have been out of the fashion loop, that I have no clue what to wear anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have looked at many websites and shopped in the stores, but I am really having trouble. I am 40, dating a man younger than myself. I don't want to look 40 and frumpy. But I don't want to look like I am "40 trying to look 25" either. I want to look classy and trendy and sexy. All at the same time. Is that possible???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems that the styles from the 70's has popped up lately. I figure if I remember the style, I probably shouldn't wear it again....????? I heard someone say once, "if you wore blue eyeshadow in high school, you shouldn't wear it again".... does the same go for fashion?? I actually have some blue eyeshadow in my makeup bag, because it looked so nice with a blue sweater I bought....but maybe I committed a fashion faux pas. And then comes the makeup........just because eyeshadow comes with four colours to a compact, do you have to use all four colors at the same time? And how do you do that?? I am soooooooooo lost........ I need major help..... Someone out there please.........HELP ME!!!!! I have two weeks before my trip to see NewMan......and even though he tells me I am beautiful, I want to knock his socks off.......any ideas?????&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-4680144517699264004?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/4680144517699264004/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=4680144517699264004&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/4680144517699264004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/4680144517699264004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/04/sometimes-line-between-high-fashion-and.html' title='Sometimes the line between high fashion and &quot;what the hell happened?&quot; can get a little blurry'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/RhKbEKC5UVI/AAAAAAAAABY/gz_YrI8KEDc/s72-c/wannacomeoutandplay.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-8412209491606201133</id><published>2007-03-28T07:54:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-04-07T15:47:08.447-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='video'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Mama'/><title type='text'>I got the official TAG for the Real Moms...</title><content type='html'>Thanks to &lt;a href="http://rscohn.blogspot.com/"&gt;Becky of The Princess and The Peanut&lt;/a&gt; I have gotten my official tag for the Real Moms meme.  Even though I took matters into my own hands and decided to do a Real Nurses meme, I gladly embrace this task as a Real Mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Real Moms:&lt;br /&gt;~ hide chocolate from their children just to eat it themselves in their bedroom late at night while watching some incredibly adult TV show that 10 years ago wouldn't have even been allowed on TV at all&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~ attempt to use guilt and manipulation to get their children to make them coffee and toast with peanut butter&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~ always love their children, even though sometimes, they don't really like them very much&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And finally, inspired by an email I received from my niece this morning....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~ real moms do yoga&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object height='350' width='425'&gt;&lt;param value='http://youtube.com/v/TZERFZB8FUM' name='movie'&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed height='350' width='425' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' src='http://youtube.com/v/TZERFZB8FUM'&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I get to tag ........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://cammy13.blogspot.com/"&gt;Cammy&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bradysbunch02.blogspot.com/"&gt;Christine&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://luvmypeanut.blogspot.com/"&gt;Rhonda&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://redlights.typepad.com/"&gt;Monica&lt;/a&gt; and&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://jla1974.blogspot.com/"&gt;Jacques&lt;/a&gt; okay, now I know he is not a real mom, but he is a real dad, and maybe we can make this meme go a little farther by including the daddies..........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyone else who wants to do this, just link in my comments to your own Real Moms post.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-8412209491606201133?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/8412209491606201133/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=8412209491606201133&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/8412209491606201133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/8412209491606201133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/03/i-got-official-tag-for-real-moms.html' title='I got the official TAG for the Real Moms...'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-2617198537486561381</id><published>2007-03-26T14:43:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-04-07T15:40:11.122-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Nurse in Me'/><title type='text'>Real Nurses</title><content type='html'>I have been touring the mommy blog circuit and there is a lot of talk of Real Moms.  It is a meme in where the moms tell what Real Moms do....  I have seen some funny posts, some touching posts......I have loved them all.....but no one tagged me that I could see.......so......I decided to start my own Meme called Real Nurses..... and since I have a few other nurses who read me, I am basically tagging any nurse who reads this and wants to participate, just leave me a comment to let me know you are joining so that I can check out your answers too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Real Nurses....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;....will hug the pain in the ass family member of a dying patient for as long as they need and realize that the only reason they are a PITA is because they are scared and grieving&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;....will talk to the recently deceased palliative care patient as she/he prepares them for their family members to view&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;....can do a manual digital extraction of stool as 11:50 am, wash their hands and go for lunch at 12 noon and eat a sandwich, with their hands&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You Are IT!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-2617198537486561381?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/2617198537486561381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=2617198537486561381&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/2617198537486561381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/2617198537486561381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/03/real-nurses.html' title='Real Nurses'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-18579964864539342</id><published>2007-03-24T13:44:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-04-07T15:40:45.203-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='NewMan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cooking'/><title type='text'>Saturday with The Food Network and missing NewMan</title><content type='html'>I really love Saturdays off from work. My favourite part of it is watching The Food Network. I watch those shows and aspire to be a great chef....in my own home. The hours that real chefs keep are just NOT for me. But I love to watch and learn techniques and apply them to my home cooking. I have been told by more than a few people that I am a good cook. In fact, only one person ever told me, "you just think you can cook".....he does not live here anymore..... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know it seems really odd for a woman who struggles with weight and body issues to watch hours upon hours of cooking shows. But, I have a great appreciation for good food, gourmet type food, and good wine. This is a passion that NewMan and I share, and it is really wonderful! We both love to cook. I am really looking forward to spending Saturdays and Sundays off cooking and sharing with NewMan once he is finally here with me. That day is getting a lot closer.....I am sooooooo excited!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am planning another trip to visit NewMan in Chicago in April. This time, I am staying for 5 days. I couldn't be more thrilled. I don't care for the airports and the flying, but, those are such small sacrifices for 5 days of bliss. 5 nights of sleeping next to NewMan, 5 mornings of waking up next to NewMan......sigh.....do I sound a little in love??? Well, I assure you, I am a lot in love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to The Food Network, my other love. I have a few favourite shows. I love to watch the challenge shows, the ones where famous chefs compete at cake decorating or sugar sculpting, etc. I love Good Eats with Alton Brown, he teaches the science of cooking....I guess I am a foodie geek. I also like the Restaurant Makeover shows. Rachael Ray's 30 minute Meals is also good. I love them all. But one of my all time favourites these days, is Ace of Cakes. It is about Charm City Cakes in Baltimore, MD. The guy, Duff, is so funny, and quirky.....and he has this crew that work with him that are just as quirky and funny, and they make the most amazing cakes I have ever seen. Of course, I am watching for wedding cake ideas........&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-18579964864539342?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/18579964864539342/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=18579964864539342&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/18579964864539342'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/18579964864539342'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/03/saturday-with-food-network-and-missing.html' title='Saturday with The Food Network and missing NewMan'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-8619340386026864153</id><published>2007-03-22T05:13:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-04-07T15:41:14.315-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Nurse in Me'/><title type='text'>Pass the toothpicks please</title><content type='html'>I am sitting here at the computer at work.  I am trying desperately to stay awake.  I am really really really really really really tired.........tired of working the night shift.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back when I first started this nursing gig, I actually loved the night shift.  It is quieter, less demanding, etc.....but since my youngest child was born, I am finding this less and less desirable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I long to sleep in my wonderful bed every night.......I long to sleep beside NewMan every night.  I long to not feel in a state of perpetual fatigue.  I long..... I long...... damnit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I had a live-in nanny, night shift was a breeze.  Sleep all day, work all night, sleep all day........easy.  Now I get home, have to fight to get kids out of bed, fight to get them to make their lunches, fight to get them off to school, ugh...... fight fight fight fight fight.  This is really not a slacker mom's forte.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really need to come up with some viable options to this staff nursing thing I have been doing.  I need a day job, no stress, preferably without people, bleeding, puking or dying on my shift..........and still pays me the wages I am used to........&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-8619340386026864153?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/8619340386026864153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=8619340386026864153&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/8619340386026864153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/8619340386026864153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/03/pass-toothpicks-please.html' title='Pass the toothpicks please'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-6176931708667937213</id><published>2007-03-15T17:10:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-04-07T15:46:12.824-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Blog'/><title type='text'>Hey! I have been critiqued!!!</title><content type='html'>Go and check out what Billy Mac had to say about me in his critique &lt;a href="http://critiquemyblog.blogspot.com/2007/03/first-step.html"&gt; here&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, granted, I asked him to do it, because that is how it works.......but I would hope to God he was at least being honest with his comments.  He actually critiques both of my blogs there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I admit freely that I write this blog so that others will read it.  I am a firm believer in the fact that is why most of us write.  To know you have touched someone else by something you have written is amazing.  Whether it be to make them laugh, think, cry, reflect, even angry........it is all about the human need to be noticed and recognized for your unique qualities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not a writer.  I has aspired to be one at times, but I always fear that any novel I might write would read like a really really bad Harlequin romance......  My creativity is not exactly stellar, but when I write these short little articles, the observations of my weird and wild little life......and one of you says, "Hey, you could be writing about me"  Or, "You made me laugh so hard" Or, "I never thought of it that way before".......I get .........well.......let's just say I get more than just a little tingly!!!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I beg of you......feed this comment whore's addiction and leave me comments when you visit....even if all you have to say is, "Hey, I was here".....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-6176931708667937213?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/6176931708667937213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=6176931708667937213&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/6176931708667937213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/6176931708667937213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/03/hey-i-have-been-critiqued.html' title='Hey! I have been critiqued!!!'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-6855583762522770693</id><published>2007-03-13T10:32:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-04-07T15:46:33.148-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='TV Addiction'/><title type='text'>I just saw these featured on Rachael Ray</title><content type='html'>I really love her show. Even if she is WAY too perky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I am sure a lot of you mommy's out there have seen these, but I hadn't until today.....I wish I had some when my babies were little.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They are called Gabbybaby T-shirts. Click the link &lt;a href="http://www.gabbybaby.com/shop.htm"&gt; here&lt;/a&gt;. I will wait here until you have read them and come back.........*&lt;i&gt;insert Jeopardy music here&lt;/i&gt;*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aren't they just the cutest????? This is one I would have liked to have had....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Please don't ask my parents if they know what caused me. Trust me, they know, I was there"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What if adults wore T-shirts like that, to warn people against making rude or stupid comments?? What would be the one you would want to wear??&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-6855583762522770693?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/6855583762522770693/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=6855583762522770693&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/6855583762522770693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/6855583762522770693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/03/i-just-saw-these-featured-on-rachael.html' title='I just saw these featured on Rachael Ray'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-3778923604340681392</id><published>2007-03-12T10:08:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-04-07T15:47:40.469-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ME'/><title type='text'>Can we talk about why I don't like time change??</title><content type='html'>I lived the first 35 years of my life in a place where the time never changed. Every province around us changed, the US states changed, but we never changed.  I don't know why we didn't, we just didn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now, my 40yr old body is waging a war against the time change.  I just can't seem to do the switch.  I have been doing it for a few years now, living here in Alberta, but my body still can't seem to adjust.  I had trouble sleeping last night, I can't help but subtract the hour when I look at the clock calculating the "real" time in my head.  It can take me a full week to make the switch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, being that I work weekends, nights, etc....I can often be found working during the time change, and since my karma is a bit of a practical joker, I usually find myself on the crappy end of the time change stick.  There is nothing worse than working nights in the fall on the night of time change.  Our hospital has automated clocks and when 2:am hits and those clocks roll back, every second is like another toothpick being stuck in your eye to keep it open.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The spring change, which of course was just this weekend in case you missed it, is like a bonus if you are on the night shift, but really bites if you are on the day shift.  Nothing like losing an hour of sleep on a Saturday night.  You tend to change the clocks early so as to trick yourself into already thinking it is later, thereby going to bed at an appropriate time so that you get enough sleep to get through your shift.  That, by the way, never works.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Insomnia hit me last night.  I kept looking at the clock, thinking to myself, "of course I am still awake, my body thinks it is only 11pm" "midnight" "1am" "2am"..... you get the picture.......then this morning, my alarm goes off at 6am, like usual, and my brain says......"it is only 5am".....well, actually it said, "F@#$!!!! It is 5:18 am and I missed the alarm"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amazingly, this morning was like the first time all year that I called the kids for school...ONCE....they all got up....got dressed, made their own lunches and walked to school......ON TIME.  I am wondering what my dear friend Karma has in store for me now............&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-3778923604340681392?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/3778923604340681392/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=3778923604340681392&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/3778923604340681392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/3778923604340681392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/03/can-we-talk-about-why-i-dont-like-time.html' title='Can we talk about why I don&apos;t like time change??'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-7633199776864073173</id><published>2007-03-08T12:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T04:06:11.518-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Pets'/><title type='text'>Puppy Love</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/RfBmej5UUEI/AAAAAAAAAA0/kvklqrHSCgM/s1600-h/angus1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/RfBmej5UUEI/AAAAAAAAAA0/kvklqrHSCgM/s200/angus1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5039640658245341250" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;This is my puppy, Angus the Basset Hound.&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My puppy loves me. And I love my puppy. Last Friday morning I was awoken at 4:30am to the sound of thumping from the kitchen. It only took me a few seconds to realize the sound was coming from Angus' kennel, and only a second more to realize it wasn't just his regular bumping around in the kennel. It was a rather rhythmic noise that made me uneasy. I went out to find my 65lb dog having a grande mal seizure in his kennel. I opened the cage, crawled in to keep him from hurting himself. I was pretty sure he was dying. I was crying, and wondering how I was going to break this to the kids. Then, he came out of it. He sat up, panting heavily and drooling more than usual, and looked at me with his big brown eyes and tried to lick my face. He was wagging his tail fiercely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the kids had left for school, I called the vet, to see what could have brought this on. She said that some dogs do this. That it could be a one time deal or the start of a problem. Her recommendation was to watch him. As long as he seemed back to normal, and didn't have any more, that there was no need to have him checked. So far, so good. No more problems that we can see. No more seizures. He is acting normal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;Sadly, this is normal for him.&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/RfBqGj5UUGI/AAAAAAAAABE/ioqZrtkPexM/s1600-h/puppylove2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/RfBqGj5UUGI/AAAAAAAAABE/ioqZrtkPexM/s200/puppylove2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5039644643974991970" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/RfBpzz5UUFI/AAAAAAAAAA8/7G7LKQoFO1A/s1600-h/puppylove1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/RfBpzz5UUFI/AAAAAAAAAA8/7G7LKQoFO1A/s200/puppylove1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5039644321852444754" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/RfBqXz5UUHI/AAAAAAAAABM/2XhYqeUT-B4/s1600-h/puppylove3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/RfBqXz5UUHI/AAAAAAAAABM/2XhYqeUT-B4/s200/puppylove3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5039644940327735410" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This dog really loves me......just count yourselves lucky I didn't get a picture of him humping the pajama bottoms that I left laying on the floor.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-7633199776864073173?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/7633199776864073173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=7633199776864073173&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/7633199776864073173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/7633199776864073173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/03/puppy-love.html' title='Puppy Love'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/RfBmej5UUEI/AAAAAAAAAA0/kvklqrHSCgM/s72-c/angus1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-4923625671665550192</id><published>2007-03-07T08:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-07T15:49:01.029-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='NewMan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My Weird Mind'/><title type='text'>Curling up with a good book.........</title><content type='html'>Someone gave my ex-husband a book. It was called Uncle John's Bathroom Reader. It is a collection of short stories, designed to be read while performing the days constitutional. What is the attraction of that, exactly? I cannot imagine needing to spend any longer than absolutely necessary in the bathroom, reading no less. My brother-in-law can actually spend an hour or maybe more (I have never really timed him) sitting there reading the newspaper. All I can think is, if it takes that long to "get the job done", perhaps you need to invest in some &lt;a href="http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2006/11/nothing-like-good-crap-to-clear-your.html"&gt; Bowel Buddies&lt;/a&gt;, (boy that link gets a lot of air time here in my blog).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This post was inspired by my friend, Jacques, at &lt;a href="http://jla1974.blogspot.com/"&gt; My New Life&lt;/a&gt;. He had an epiphany this morning. And I have one suggestion for him, WATERLESS HAND SANITIZER GEL. I am thinking I could turn him OCD with all of my stories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is this just a man thing?? Is it because they have all the time in the world to sit there reading?? Without the various children and pets knocking on the door or sticking fingers or furry paws under the door?? "Whatcha doin' in there, mom?????" Trying to peek under the door to see what you are doing........or in my old house, with its easily-opened-from-the-outside locks, having them just barge on in????? You do tend to just "get 'er done" and get the heck out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do remember a friend of mine, many many years ago, taking her Anatomy notes into the bathtub with her to get some uninterrupted study time. Problem, with all that uninterrupted time in the bathroom, she fell asleep and dropped her notes into the tub. And speaking of bathrooms and tubs and such, I am reminded of a Friends episode where Joey used Chandler's toothbrush. Chandler says that they can't share things like that. Joey argues back that they share the soap in the shower. Chandler justifies it by saying that soap by its very nature is clean. Joey comes back saying, "Think of the last place I wash and the first place you wash."....argument over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder how many of you will be throwing away the bar soap and investing in shower gel from now on?????&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-4923625671665550192?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/4923625671665550192/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=4923625671665550192&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/4923625671665550192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/4923625671665550192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/03/curling-up-with-good-book.html' title='Curling up with a good book.........'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-281828776577678273</id><published>2007-03-01T09:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-07T15:54:39.299-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My Weird Mind'/><title type='text'>Lamb or Lion????</title><content type='html'>It is March 1st today, if you didn't already know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Around here, I can't really decide if it came in like a Lamb or a Lion. It isn't so cold or blizzardy to consider it Lion like, but it isn't warm and melting and mild enough for it to be Lamb Like. I am thinking that this is a premonition that March is going to be a hum drum nondescript Month. What is your March 1st like?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am watching a news report that is saying, "Sleep is the new Sex". Apparently a recent survey showed that an alarmingly high percentage of people would rather have a good nights sleep than have sex. I am really wondering who they asked?? I mean, I understand the mommy with a baby who, when finally getting said baby to sleep and knowing that there may only be a couple hours before baby is awake again, not wanting to used up those precious minutes doing the very activity that got them into that predicament in the first place. In my rather limited experience, I can't imagine that any man would have answered that they prefer sleep to sex...that has never been the case in my house......ever.....of course, maybe that is more of a reflection of ME... "grrrrrrr baby". And also in my experience (I know, this is way TMI), I have found that one leads to the other. Good Sex = Good Sleep. Try it....try it tonight.... (thinking I may have just gained a lot of male fans). So tell me, Sleep or Sex???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is coming up on Easter Season again. NewMan observes the Friday Fast. I used to when I was at home with my parents...in fact, we observed it all year long. When I was a single mom, that kind of went by the wayside, since my thoughts were that we ate a lot of meatless meals all the time. I am not much of a fish person, but I suppose I will have to come up with some interesting ways to make meatless meals for Friday's during Lent for NewMan. Good thing my kids like fish. Do you fast on Fridays? Only during Lent? All year?? Any idea what I am talking about?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another thing about Easter is the Cadbury Cream Egg. Sweet, gooey, disgusting and absolutely irresistible to me. It is what I had for breakfast this morning.........Atkins says eggs for breakfast are good...........&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-281828776577678273?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/281828776577678273/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=281828776577678273&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/281828776577678273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/281828776577678273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/03/lamb-or-lion.html' title='Lamb or Lion????'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-302290758565689998</id><published>2007-02-28T09:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-07T15:57:28.867-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Nurse in Me'/><title type='text'>Works For Me Wednesday</title><content type='html'>This is hosted by the clever lady over at &lt;a href="http://rocksinmydryer.typepad.com/"&gt;Rocks In My Dryer&lt;/a&gt;. The idea is that you post a tip of something that "works for you". Now, since I am a nurse, I was thinking of coming up with a tip that would possibly have some relevance to my nursing friends that come here to read my blog. I have many nursing tips and tricks that I have found over my relatively short career, but this one actually may apply to the moms that come here that are potty training their toddlers as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever given your patient/toddler a bedpan/potty only to have them have a bowel movement (with or without the benefit of &lt;a href="http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2006/11/nothing-like-good-crap-to-clear-your.html"&gt;Bowel Buddies&lt;/a&gt; or &lt;a href="http://othejoys.blogspot.com/2007/02/flavorful-fiber-for-100-alex.html"&gt;Flavourful Fibre&lt;/a&gt;) and then be faced with the task of rinsing and rinsing and gagging and rinsing and spraying-risking-getting-poopy-backsplash-on-your-uniform followed by more gagging??????? My indispensable tip for you is, TOILET PAPER IN THE BEDPAN/POTTY!!!!! Before giving said patient/toddler the bedpan/potty, line the bottom with a generous layer of toilet paper. Then when the patient/toddler lays one down for you, it just easily slides out into the toilet. Only the minimal of rinsing needed. VOILA!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There, that post should garner me some much needed comments. Poop posts seem to be the "bomb" when it comes to comments.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-302290758565689998?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/302290758565689998/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=302290758565689998&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/302290758565689998'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/302290758565689998'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/02/works-for-me-wednesday.html' title='Works For Me Wednesday'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-6681074618324579341</id><published>2007-02-27T22:42:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-07T15:55:18.763-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='video'/><title type='text'>Stone Sour - Through Glass</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object height='350' width='425'&gt;&lt;param value='http://youtube.com/v/ZX6j8xdbLiw' name='movie'&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed height='350' width='425' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' src='http://youtube.com/v/ZX6j8xdbLiw'&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I am loving this song.  I bought this CD for my son for Christmas, and normally I would never listen to one of his CD's but he assured me I would like it.  He was right.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-6681074618324579341?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/6681074618324579341/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=6681074618324579341&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/6681074618324579341'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/6681074618324579341'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/02/stone-sour-through-glass.html' title='Stone Sour - Through Glass'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-2807887252653913681</id><published>2007-02-25T09:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-07T15:56:05.427-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My Weird Mind'/><title type='text'>Sunday Morning Laziness</title><content type='html'>I am not getting out of my bed today.  NewMan gave me a laptop computer complete with wireless connectivity.  So I am typing to you from my bed.  Perfect place for a Sunday morning post.  I have my TV, my computer, my daughter made me a pot of coffee.  I love it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was a kid, Sunday mornings were often spent with my dad.  We would have gone to church on Saturday evening and Sunday morning we would make breakfast.  He would have a beer while he cooked bacon and eggs.  We would then sit at the table, just the two of us, eating breakfast and talking.  I drank coffee, even when I was very young, a French Canadian thing I suppose.  We would talk.  Sometimes we would listen to the radio.  Sunday mornings the radio guy would read the Saturday Funnies over the radio.  Then after breakfast we would go to the living room and maybe watch TV or just sit and read.  I miss the quiet laziness of those mornings.  Now my Sundays are filled with noise, kids, pets.......I have to say, I love that too......&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-2807887252653913681?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/2807887252653913681/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=2807887252653913681&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/2807887252653913681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/2807887252653913681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/02/sunday-morning-laziness.html' title='Sunday Morning Laziness'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-3013365251702035557</id><published>2007-02-23T09:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-02-23T10:18:51.155-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Instant Messaging Faux Pas</title><content type='html'>I don't know how many of you use MSN or Yahoo instant messaging, but I do.  I use it a LOT.  NewMan and I chat there all day from his work.  There are a few other people that come online there to chat too.  That is where things can get interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was chatting away nicely with one person......enjoying my chat.  When another chatter pops in.  I try to have polite chat with that person, but my mind is clearly not in it.  Both of these people know each other.  I get a message from the first person, kinda irritated me....I open window to second person to make an offhand sarcastic remark about first person.......unknown to me, first person had sent another message........my offhand sarcastic remark typed into the message box of first person and sent to them.   Geezus H Christ.........now I have completely insulted the person I was talking to......not good.  Not intentional.  Just being my sarcastic pain in the ass self.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few rules to follow when instant messaging:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Never make a comment about a person you are actually talking to, to another person&lt;br /&gt;2) Check the window you are typing in before hitting send&lt;br /&gt;3) Never say anything about anyone that you wouldn't say to their face&lt;br /&gt;4) Never leave a bowl of water boiling in the microwave then have a chatting crisis.... you will lose a friend and melt your microwave at the same time.....and trust me, both stinks.........&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-3013365251702035557?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/3013365251702035557/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=3013365251702035557&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/3013365251702035557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/3013365251702035557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/02/instant-messaging-faux-pas.html' title='Instant Messaging Faux Pas'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-6671155442689382844</id><published>2007-02-21T23:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-07T15:59:35.689-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Nurse in Me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My Weird Mind'/><title type='text'>Does This Train of Thought Have a Caboose???</title><content type='html'>I am highly doubting it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I worked two night shifts this week. I woke up at 5:45 Monday morning and did not go back to bed until after 9:am Tuesday morning, where I fell promptly asleep until around 1:30pm when my kids started fighting in the hallway outside my room. It was early out from school that day. I never did get back to sleep, got ready and went to work, but not before letting my overtired bitchy self tick off NewMan and cause some completely unnecessary stress to both of us. *** I came home this morning and ended up spending the morning trying to do some damage control, which never did happen, and make NewMan understand my point of view. Before I knew it, it was time to take my oldest son to the city nearest us for his dental appointment. I had not slept a wink. Thank god he is driving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had lunch, got myself some high octane &lt;a href="http://www.timhortons.com/door.html"&gt; Timmy's Coffee&lt;/a&gt; and got the boy to the dentist and me to the nail salon. After our respective appointments were over, we headed to Walmart to pick up the few things I was needing. Then to the Pizza Place to pick up dinner before coming home. The guy at the pizza place was a total knob. I had sent the boy in to get the pizza and had given him my bank card. Said bank card was not working so JACKASS PIZZA PUD puts a strip of scotch tape over the magnetic strip!!!!!!!! I have not seen anyone lame enough to have pulled that stupid stunt in several years, and of course, SonOne did not know to tell this DickWad not to do it. Of course, it doesn't actually help the card work. So, we have to hit the bank, and I am praying that the card still works in the bank machine so I can get enough money to buy the pizza for dinner. It does, we are back in business. We get home, people are fed, watered, bathed, bedded and now I can actually have some time to blog. Of course, I gave up some blogging time this evening to spend time with NewMan online. Now it is 11:36pm, I have had about 4 hours of sleep in the last 66 hours, I have not written any lame &lt;a href="http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2006/11/to-night-shift-and-no-babysitter.html"&gt;Poetry&lt;/a&gt; but instead have decided to have a derailed train of thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Edited to add ***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I knew my train derailed, I never finished this post and now I have caused some confusion and dismay with the Real People in my life. Crap......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damage control: not NewMan that was causing damage, not him I was trying to control. It was my own damage, and it is still not resolved. NewMan, on the other hand, completely 100% wonderful, helped me WITH the damage control best he could, was supportive and loving, even though I was being bitchy, tired and stupid. God, I love this man!!!!! Oh and just in case you all are wondering, I give up blogging time to spend time with NewMan quite voluntarily. I mean, I love my blog, but is it going to change my poopy Depends when I am old and senile??? I think not!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BestFriend, I love you to death!!! You are like a mother lion when it comes to me, how many people can say that about their friends??? But please, don't eat my MATE!!! *LOL*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-6671155442689382844?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/6671155442689382844/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=6671155442689382844&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/6671155442689382844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/6671155442689382844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/02/does-this-train-of-thought-have-caboose.html' title='Does This Train of Thought Have a Caboose???'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-6124461277023904865</id><published>2007-02-21T04:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-07T15:51:17.304-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Nurse in Me'/><title type='text'>A blast from the past........</title><content type='html'>Since I am sitting at work and it is Wednesday morning and I can't think of a friggen thing to say, I am going to treat you to an archived post which first debuted here Wednesday September 21st, 2005&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Top Ten Reasons I am a Nurse &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;10. I love working all major holidays and through the summers too&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;9. I have an arsenal of sedating medications that I am at liberty to use&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;8. The smell of sweat, blood and booze on a warm summer night in the ER&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;7. Watching a big muscle bound man faint at the sight of a needle&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;6. Getting to see the many varied places a person will pierce their bodies&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;5. The warm sensation of fresh vomit on your duty shoes&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;4. Lunch breaks that consist of a swallow of cold coffee and a Tic Tac&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;3. The all night Potty Parade&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;2. The soothing sound of call bells that rings in your head for 10 hours after your shift is done&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;AND NUMBER 1!!!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The disorientation that comes with working night shift is vaguely reminicent of a good drunk!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-6124461277023904865?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/6124461277023904865/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=6124461277023904865&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/6124461277023904865'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/6124461277023904865'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/02/blast-from-past.html' title='A blast from the past........'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-1572540856033299865</id><published>2007-02-20T15:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-07T15:56:48.227-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Nurse in Me'/><title type='text'>Working nights again</title><content type='html'>I am really getting tired of this night shift life.  Being in a perpetual state of fatigue is enough to make one scream... Oh the nausea, headache, etc.  And to top it off, it is early out today.  Damn kids came home at noon and immediately started fighting, waking me up.  I have not slept since 1:30.  I am going to be bagged.  Oh, and if you need an emergency room tonight?  Best consider passing mine by.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-1572540856033299865?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/1572540856033299865/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=1572540856033299865&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/1572540856033299865'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/1572540856033299865'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/02/working-nights-again.html' title='Working nights again'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-2762058169851972466</id><published>2007-02-15T12:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-07T16:00:43.334-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Puppies'/><title type='text'>Let me tell you about my morning</title><content type='html'>Today I had my first mammogram.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I turned 40 last August and my doctor felt that I should go for my baseline now. I know I am not the first woman in the world to do this. But....it was MY first time, and that was really an eye opener, to say the least.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get to the place, and everyone is just way too perky and upbeat.....do they not know what they are about to do to me????? I have read &lt;a href="http://www.beemerworld.com/jokeline/mammogram.htm"&gt;Ode to the Mammogram&lt;/a&gt; and was very aware of what to expect. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First thing they took me into a change room and told me to strip from the waist up. The woman who took me in there was wearing her winter coat!!! I shit you not!! She hands me this tissue paper shirt to change into while I am waiting. HOLY NIPPLES BATMAN!! I about froze to death. I could actually feel my Double D Puppies shrivel right down to a generous C. Then they put on this video to show me how to do the Breast Self Exam every month. Now I know that it is important, and that every woman should be doing it.....but frankly, I just never remember to do it. Think I will have to borrow the video for NewMan to watch and learn....that way I can be assured of it getting done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So after the video she takes me into a small little room with a big scary machine there. She gets me to stand there in front of the machine while she pulls and twists my precious Left Puppy trying to get it all flattened out in this clear plastic vice. She then starts to squeeze together the plates of the vice and tells me to let her know if I start to get uncomfortable! WTF????? I was uncomfortable on the drive into town to have this done!!!!! She takes the two flattened out pictures of each of the puppies, and then tells me, "We need the side view now" I did NOT expect that. So there are my favourite girls, being squished and flattened in the other direction. For the love of all things sacred, my babies will never be the same again! She then asks me to go back to my change room, but don't get dressed, since the radiologist may need more views.....I am guessing the radiologist is a man and had never had this done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sit in the change room in my tissue paper shirt, praying to the Goddess of Breasts to please not make me have to have any more torture. About 40 minutes later, I am told that I can get dressed and am free to go. As I am walking out past the reception desk, the receptionist stops me and hands me a pink carnation. The card reads, "We are pleased to encourage ladies to care about their health. Accept this flower, with our compliments, to enhance the rest of your day." I almost burst out laughing. All I could think of was that the last person I let touch my breasts like that at least bought me dinner!!!!! And he didn't take pictures either.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-2762058169851972466?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/2762058169851972466/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=2762058169851972466&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/2762058169851972466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/2762058169851972466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/02/let-me-tell-you-about-my-morning.html' title='Let me tell you about my morning'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-3014571806044287103</id><published>2007-02-14T11:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-02-14T11:59:56.795-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Valentine's Day</title><content type='html'>Nothing sadder than being away from the love of your life on Valentine's Day.  Cards, flowers, candy....none of it really can replace the hugs, kisses, um....lovin', that one is supposed to experience on this day for lovers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I have to look forward to next year when I can pamper and spoil my Prince on Valentine's Day......which comes only a few days after his birthday.......so, I guess it will always be a week long celebration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that he intends to spoil me too.  He is really a romantic at heart.  He is just such a gentleman.  Holding doors open, opening car doors.  Even ordering for me when we go out to dinner.  Now, before all the feminists jump all over that, let me explain.  I actually LIKE when a man does that for me.  It shows that he knows me and my likes and dislikes.  We would discuss the menu before hand, he asked what I would like......then when the waiter came over, he would order for me.  I think it is sweet, romantic and sexy.  It did throw some of the waiters off a bit, but oh well.  I believe in chivalry and plan to allow him to keep the tradition alive.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-3014571806044287103?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/3014571806044287103/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=3014571806044287103&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/3014571806044287103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/3014571806044287103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/02/happy-valentines-day.html' title='Happy Valentine&apos;s Day'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-1681018850503239629</id><published>2007-02-13T04:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-02-12T12:19:49.440-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Talking with Tucker</title><content type='html'>I knew my little man would come through for me with a blog worthy story to post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday morning in my house.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuc: "Mommy, I want a treat"&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Not before breakfast"&lt;br /&gt;Tuc: "I need a treat"&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Tuc, not before breakfast"&lt;br /&gt;Tuc: "Mommy.....I WANT A TREAT!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After feeding them all breakfast and taking the 3 older children to school, we come in the door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuc: "Mommy, can I have a treat now????"&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Please give mommy 3 minutes to get her act together first."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fifteen minutes elapse&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuc: "MOMMY, I WANT A TREAT!!!"&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Why do you want a treat???"&lt;br /&gt;Tuc: "I have no wife and no family, that is 'cause I need a treat."&lt;br /&gt;Me: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honestly, there was nothing I could say to that, I gave the poor kid a granola bar&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-1681018850503239629?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/1681018850503239629/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=1681018850503239629&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/1681018850503239629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/1681018850503239629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/02/talking-with-tucker.html' title='Talking with Tucker'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-5358299236744739172</id><published>2007-02-11T20:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-02-12T06:45:39.300-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Since I was encouraged to do so.......</title><content type='html'>I will write a post about NewMan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NewMan is actually a past relationship. We met a long time ago. We were friends for a few years before I was divorced the first time. We started dating about a year after my divorce. I was instantly in love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sadly things didn't work out then. We broke up about 6 years ago. My life then took some major curves and I ended up moving, and essentially losing touch with this phenomenal man. Both of us went on to live our lives out. Both meeting other people. Both embarking on relationships, having new babies, etc. Ironically, both our lives seemed to have fallen apart at the same time. Thanks to a mutual friend, we found each other again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have faced some trials since we have come back to one another. But, it has all been worth every bit of it. We know there are many more trials to face, but we intend to meet those head on and face them together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not sure how many of you believe in soul mates, in destiny, in fate. I definitely do. If I didn't, I never would have taken this opportunity at a second chance the way I have. I know there are a great many people who have opinions about me, about us, about how I have chosen to live my life. To those people, I say, "F-you". When I stepped off that plane and saw this man whom I have not seen face to face for 6 years, and felt like I was finally where I was supposed to be, I knew I had made the right choice for me and for my family. I was completely and utterly in love........and I realized I had never really stopped loving that man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for what we are like together.....it is like every fairy tale you can think of. He is my Prince.....he is charming, not only with me but with everyone he meets. He is gallant, loyal, romantic and amazing. I am his princess. He treats me with the utmost of respect and care, putting me and my wants, desires and needs above all else (like my need for a strong cup of coffee first thing in the morning even though he never drinks the stuff himself). He seems to be able to anticipate my likes (except for that of heart shaped jewelry) and is conscientious to my insecurities. He has taught me to love myself with the utmost of uncondtion, the way that he loves me. This is really something I have never experienced before I met him, and never have again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stay tuned for more...............&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-5358299236744739172?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/5358299236744739172/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=5358299236744739172&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/5358299236744739172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/5358299236744739172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/02/since-i-was-encouraged-to-do-so.html' title='Since I was encouraged to do so.......'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-3405103195964789816</id><published>2007-02-09T12:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-02-08T19:37:05.049-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Life Support</title><content type='html'>My blog has been on life support lately.  I am struggling with topics and in finding ways to make those topics interesting and entertaining.  I sometimes will think of a topic while I am out shopping, or at work.  I sit down to write the blog later, and can't remember what it was I was going to write about.  So I have nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I read so many amazing blogs where the authors write such witty, funny or moving posts every day.  I just don't know how they do it.  I envy them so, and I try so hard to emulate that.  I have failed so miserably lately...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suppose it is because the one thing that is most forefront in my thoughts all the time is my new/old relationship and just how incredibly happy and giddy I am about that.  I could so easily just sit here and write and gush about how wonderful he is, how sexy he is, how.....um......good he is........but I don't want you all to be jealous.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't even had any good kid stories lately.  I could rant about work, but that gets old really fast.  I am just at a loss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess all I can say is, please keep coming back to read, I am really hoping I get my groove back soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-3405103195964789816?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/3405103195964789816/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=3405103195964789816&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/3405103195964789816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/3405103195964789816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/02/life-support.html' title='Life Support'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-3921615462981712279</id><published>2007-02-06T02:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-02-06T04:17:06.690-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Love and Marriage</title><content type='html'>So, I told you a few days ago that my mother was able to convince my ex-husband (we have been divorced 8 years) to come and finish up the laminate flooring project on my house that he started with my 15yr old son last fall. Even after 8 years, he must still be scared of her, because he did show up, he finished it up and now he is gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was reflecting on this with the New Man saying, "It was just like when ExHusband and I were married." "Oh? How so?" "Well" I said, "we pass each other in the hall and ignore each other"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For some reason, my mom still dotes on my ex-husband. She treats him as though he is still part of the family. She expects ME to do the same. Forgive me if I do not feel the need to cook, clean, and wash clothes for the man who walked out on me on New Year's Day when our daughter was 1 WEEK old.....yes, I said 1 WEEK. Now, he and I have come a long way. I can now be in the same room with him without wanting to gouge out his eyes with rusty spoons. I have come past the overwhelming desire to have the man's testicles bronzed......then cut off.....for me to display proudly on my piano. We are amicable, for the sake of the children. I even asked my mother if she realized that he and I were divorced and that he is sleeping with someone else now. Her answer???? "He is the father of the children"......yes he is......but wait....he is only the father of 3 children. My Tuc has a different father. So I challenged her again. "What about ExHusbandPartTwo?"......she had no answer. You see, in her eyes, no one ever measured up to ExHusband. I am not sure why. Now, granted, I am thankful and happy that he came and installed my new laminate floor free of charge. But I think we are even, what with me caring for his spawn all these years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;New Man and I have talked at length about the roles of parents, the roles of ex's, the roles of family, and what the vows of marriage mean. We have some pretty distinct ideas.....luckily for us, our views are similar and I think we are going to be just fine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-3921615462981712279?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/3921615462981712279/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=3921615462981712279&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/3921615462981712279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/3921615462981712279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/02/love-and-marriage.html' title='Love and Marriage'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-1205345569568176123</id><published>2007-02-03T19:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-02-03T19:24:59.360-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I just flew home, and boy are my arms tired........</title><content type='html'>Actually.....I got off the plane about 11:pm last night, and got home about 1:am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had an amazing time. It was really like no time had ever passed since we had been together the last time, which was about 6 years ago. When I saw him walking towards me at the baggage claim on Tuesday night, my knees went weak! I haven't felt like that for a very, very long time. I felt like a teenager! *LOL*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We spent long hours talking. Having real conversations. Intelligent conversations about things that matter to us. Just like we used to have long ago. We spent time just getting reacquainted with one another. Remembering things from the past, reflecting on the things that went wrong last time and how we can use those past mistakes and learn and grow from them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was an ease to the time we were together. An ease that wasn't always there the last time. It was just good. Very good. Amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am incredibly happy..........&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-1205345569568176123?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/1205345569568176123/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=1205345569568176123&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/1205345569568176123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/1205345569568176123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/02/i-just-flew-home-and-boy-are-my-arms.html' title='I just flew home, and boy are my arms tired........'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-589670865653277539</id><published>2007-01-26T03:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-01-26T03:35:19.258-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A whole week has passed.....</title><content type='html'>Since I last wrote. I am currently at work. Shortly after 3:am. This has been the most time I have had to myself since my mother descended upon my home last Sunday night. Now, don't get me wrong. I love my mother. I appreciate her. She is a very hard worker, very organized......much like a drill Sargent. Things around my house have really gotten into shape. She has somehow convinced my first ex-husband to come and finish up the flooring that he started last fall and abandoned when he met a new girlfriend. She also pushed the town into getting them to drop off the town truck for us to load up the garbage in the garage (I had been waiting for them for a few weeks). She has gotten more laundry done in a week than I can manage in a month. Unfortunately, I have no place to actually put all that clean, folded laundry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She will be here for another week or so. I am heading out of town on Tuesday morning for a rendez-vous with a dear friend of mine......well, who am I trying to kid..... I am meeting up with an old boyfriend, who has become a new boyfriend again. Anyway, by the time I return home next Friday night, she should have the kids whipped into shape, the house completely renovated, and the dog should be doing back flips for perogies.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-589670865653277539?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/589670865653277539/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=589670865653277539&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/589670865653277539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/589670865653277539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/01/whole-week-has-passed.html' title='A whole week has passed.....'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-4999666640557795521</id><published>2007-01-19T20:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-01-19T20:31:38.890-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Is it just me????</title><content type='html'>Or don't you all think that Blogrolling is thumbing their noses at me?  I mean really....every blog in my blogroll updated forever......I don't freakin' think so!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Geez.....from one extreme to the other.........ARGH!!!!!!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-4999666640557795521?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/4999666640557795521/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=4999666640557795521&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/4999666640557795521'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/4999666640557795521'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/01/is-it-just-me.html' title='Is it just me????'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-5279751801706788598</id><published>2007-01-18T13:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-01-18T14:04:20.534-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I know that people in my Real Life won't believe this...</title><content type='html'>but, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am at a loss for words today........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have nothing...........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go check out my other blog, &lt;a href="http://mylifesperfection.blogspot.com"&gt; Imperfect Perfections&lt;/a&gt; to see the other side of me.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While you go there to read, comment, whatever.......I'll be here looking for my writing mojo.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-5279751801706788598?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/5279751801706788598/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=5279751801706788598&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/5279751801706788598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/5279751801706788598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/01/i-know-that-people-in-my-real-life-wont.html' title='I know that people in my Real Life won&apos;t believe this...'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-7913408814673973582</id><published>2007-01-17T19:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-01-17T19:10:31.033-07:00</updated><title type='text'>WOW!</title><content type='html'>It looks like Blogrolling has updated everyone on the system......wonder how long it will be until the blogs just start sifting out to the bottom again..........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I actually finally got an email response from them a couple days ago saying that they were looking into the problem. It only took them two months to reply.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-7913408814673973582?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/7913408814673973582/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=7913408814673973582&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/7913408814673973582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/7913408814673973582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/01/wow.html' title='WOW!'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-6300395793684331977</id><published>2007-01-16T07:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-01-16T10:13:38.877-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I may NOT be around for a while......</title><content type='html'>UPDATED BELOW **&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you do when your house is a disaster and your MOTHER is coming today??  And she is staying for 3 WEEKS?????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You barely sleep, you have anxiety attacks all night long, you plead with God for a snow storm so she can't come.  But do you clean the house???  Oh no....that would take away from blogging time!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My house has been in renovation hell since September.  I have not really done any cleaning since then either......since, what's the point??  UGH!!  The worst is the laundry.  Laundry is piled everywhere........clean in baskets upon baskets, dirty on the floor of the laundry room, floor of my room, floor of daughter's room.......it is everywhere.  I have actually contemplated just throwing all the clothes away and just starting fresh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have always had laundry issues...but it is worse than ever right now.  I have actually been known to go buy new socks and underwear for the kids instead of trying to find clean stuff in my laundry baskets.  I hate folding clothes and trying to put things away, I have just never been great at the laundry thing.  I really should have made some New Year's Resolutions about my laundry issues, but it seems too late now......especially with MOTHER breathing down my neck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So if you don't see me here for a while, know it is because I am fighting my way out from under a pile stinking pile of dirty laundry!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**&lt;em&gt;apparently my brother-in-law was delayed today, so  they will not be coming out today....BELIEVE in the power of prayer!!!!!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-6300395793684331977?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/6300395793684331977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=6300395793684331977&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/6300395793684331977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/6300395793684331977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/01/i-may-not-be-around-for-while.html' title='I may NOT be around for a while......'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-3715308940355258857</id><published>2007-01-14T10:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-01-14T10:14:43.971-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This could only happen to me...well, maybe not......</title><content type='html'>I have suffered an injury while engaging in my most favourite sport, and a few months back I took up an extreme version of this sport. The injury is incredibly painful. So much so that I actually couldn't sleep last night and had to take painkillers to get to sleep. But like all dedicated athletes, I am going to play through the pain today and jump back into the game. I injured my wrist, my right wrist. The baby finger is almost completely numb, and the ring finger is numb down one side. The wrist hurts when I move it, causing pain to shoot up to my elbow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You may be wondering what crazy, dumbass thing I have gotten myself into now. What kind of sport would cause such an injury. Hockey??? Mountain biking??? Snowboarding??? Skateboarding???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No....the extreme sport I am referring to is........KEYBOARDING!!! Extreme keyboarding. With a special interest in extreme blogging and excessive mouse clicking. I am assuming the mouse clicking is what has caused the right hand to be more injured than the left. When I was a secretary, back in another lifetime, I had some carpal tunnel issues. My hands would go numb while I was typing and my watch would just feel like it was choking me. I don't wear a watch anymore. If I did, I surely wouldn't spend ever so many hours sitting here typing in my blogs and clicking on blog link after blog link reading. Add this new found sport to my already full fledged internet addiction, and you end up with keyboarding injuries.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pass me the ibuprofen and a wrist splint, please.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-3715308940355258857?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/3715308940355258857/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=3715308940355258857&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/3715308940355258857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/3715308940355258857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/01/this-could-only-happen-to-mewell-maybe.html' title='This could only happen to me...well, maybe not......'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-477273915311045501</id><published>2007-01-13T13:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-01-13T13:53:22.741-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What are your blogging habits???</title><content type='html'>Are you obsessed like me? I write my post, and several times a day come back to see if there are any comments. I write comments on other blogs, and will check back a time or two a day to see if there was a reply to my comment. Of course, this is the days when I am not at work....then I am lucky if I blog at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I am an attention hound........I am a Leo and that means Sun sign, and that means I AM THE CENTER OF THE UNIVERSE!! You all heard that, right? &lt;strong&gt;THE CENTER OF THE UNIVERSE!!!&lt;/strong&gt; As I said in a previous post, I am a COMMENT-WHORE.....meaning, I will do anything for comments.....anything. Well....okay, I am more of a HIGH PRICED COMMENT CALL GIRL....I will do pretty much anything, but the comment better be damn good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since it is Saturday of De-Lurking Week, time is running out fast. You all need to comment soon. Tell me about some cool blog that I don't have in my blogroll that you think I might like to read.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-477273915311045501?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/477273915311045501/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=477273915311045501&amp;isPopup=true' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/477273915311045501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/477273915311045501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/01/what-are-your-blogging-habits.html' title='What are your blogging habits???'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-1761369928525609222</id><published>2007-01-12T13:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-01-12T13:21:23.194-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Okay, today is Friday of De-lurking week.....</title><content type='html'>I know by the stats, I get WAY more hits here every day than say........7 (I think that is the greatest number of comments I have ever received on a post...and that post was about poop).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really really want to see who is reading me (THAT MEANS YOU TOO, MY SISTERS AND OTHER FAMILY).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am changing the comment feature on here for the remainder of the weekend so that anyone can comment.  Tell me who you are (if you choose), where you are from, how you found my blog, and what you really think of it.  You may have to read back a few posts to find the really good ones.  Actually, there is a challenge for my more regular readers........tell me which posts you liked best and point some of the new readers to them.....that way, I will know what to write about most (trying to think up some more poop stories).  I feel like such a comment-whore.......begging and pleading.  But, too bad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-1761369928525609222?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/1761369928525609222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=1761369928525609222&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/1761369928525609222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/1761369928525609222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/01/okay-today-is-friday-of-de-lurking-week.html' title='Okay, today is Friday of De-lurking week.....'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-8695233457000543802</id><published>2007-01-10T23:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-01-10T23:22:13.393-07:00</updated><title type='text'>As you can see I have the attention span of a gnat.....</title><content type='html'>Well, actually, I am not really sure what the attention span of a gnat is, if anyone wants to Google that for me and post the answer in my comments, I will give you a mention.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I was sitting here looking at my blog, I realized that "Focused Insanity" just wasn't fitting.....since most of my insanity is way way way out of focus. I wasn't being true to my current state of mental ill health. The first name I had for this blog, "Rissy's Rants, Raves and Recitations"....while it was strong on alliteration, really wasn't all that true either, since I mostly just rant, and besides that, I have pretty much dropped the pseudonym of Rissy. If any of you wonder about that, it came about when I first started chatting online about 10 years ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started chatting in a place called ParentsPlace. Anyone here ever hear of it? It was a web based chat room that was supposed to be for parents to chat about.....well parenting. It turned out to be more of a meat market for bored housewives and equally bored daddies. There were more hookups in that place than in the No Tell Motel. But anyway..... I was looking for a name for myself....the first few times I went into the room, I used the name momof2 (because I had just only had my second child.......seems like a lifetime ago). Pretty boring, huh? Soon I decided I needed something a little more identifiable. So I decided to go with the name that my mom used to call me as a child, Rissy. There were some variations on it.....at Christmas I would become Ristletoe, at Halloween, Risenstein, you get the idea. I had met a lot of very good friends during that time, some of them still call me Rissy or Ris. Then, after a brief hiatus (more commonly known as my divorce), I came back with a more mature attitude. I had metamorphosed into Rhyssa. This was because of the royal rebel Rhys-Jones, I think her first name was Sophie, who just didn't stand for no crap. That is who I wanted to be. In fact, when I met my second significant other (he knocked me up but never officially married me) online, that was the name I was using. He never knew my real name was Iris until we met face to face the first time. Now I am back to owning my own name, Iris. I really like this name. Thanks Mom &amp; Dad!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See how my attention wanders?  And I wonder why my kids are all in Attention Deficit Hell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So as for the name of the blog, I know it is a pain in the ass, you will have to change your bookmarks, your blogrolls (I am still really pissed at them), or whatever way you have of coming back here to read my crazy little disjointed thoughts. But, as I was told earlier, "Iris, you are such major pain in the ass, but I love you anyway"....everyone together now........awwwwwwwwwwwwwwww.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-8695233457000543802?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/8695233457000543802/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=8695233457000543802&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/8695233457000543802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/8695233457000543802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/01/as-you-can-see-i-have-attention-span-of.html' title='As you can see I have the attention span of a gnat.....'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-7212441836537272596</id><published>2007-01-09T18:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-01-10T10:27:46.497-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Random musings for the evening and edited this morning.........</title><content type='html'>Blogrolling still sucks.  BLOGROLLING REALLY SUCKS!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is delurking week, please comment. &lt;b&gt;I SAID IT IS DE-LURKING WEEK, PLEASE COMMENT!!!!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have discovered that I can be REALLY sensitive and really cranky when I am working nights.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have also discovered that being cranky and sensitive sometimes gets you what you want. (Earl Grey tea upon waking)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to work the night shift tonight, Wednesday January 10th.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am the queen of my household, and my children are my peasantfolk.  As long as we all know our place, things should go smoothly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not against a beheading (and yes I said beheading) of those who do not toe the line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blackmail is acceptable when a queen uses it against her peasantfolk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love &lt;a href="http://humblern.blogspot.com"&gt; this blog&lt;/a&gt;, and especially &lt;a href="http://humblern.blogspot.com/2007/01/new-year-new-me.html"&gt; this post&lt;/a&gt;.  Thank you Humble RN.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My life is filled with snotty noses, snotty attitudes and dog hair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dog hair sticks to snotty noses, not so much to snotty attitudes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snotty attitudes can be a precursor to a beheading.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snotty noses are usually just precursors to more snotty noses.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-7212441836537272596?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/7212441836537272596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=7212441836537272596&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/7212441836537272596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/7212441836537272596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/01/random-musings-for-evening.html' title='Random musings for the evening and edited this morning.........'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-2614423568281016725</id><published>2007-01-08T20:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-01-08T20:17:32.954-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Could it Be???</title><content type='html'>Is blogrolling working again?? I am probably jinxing it by even mentioning it, so........I stop now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another note, yesterday when I woke up in the afternoon from my sleep, before getting out of bed to get ready for the third night shift in a row, my daughter had a cup of tea ready for me in no time flat. Not only that, my 15yr old son brought in a bowl of Mac &amp; Cheese for me, without me even ASKING for anything for dinner. You have no idea how appreciated I felt, and how proud I was of my kids for being so considerate. Actually, even today, though I didn't have to go to work tonight, my daughter made me tea when she came home from school. I then went down to the local coffee shop and ordered cheeseburgers for everyone for dinner and brought them home as a surprise.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-2614423568281016725?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/2614423568281016725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=2614423568281016725&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/2614423568281016725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/2614423568281016725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/01/could-it-be.html' title='Could it Be???'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-6053425947776926854</id><published>2007-01-06T23:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-01-07T05:17:58.109-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It isn't rocket science,I tell you</title><content type='html'>My children, God love them. He better, because today, their mother is less than thrilled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a single mom. I have, for all intents and purposes, been a single mom for all of my time in this hell we call motherhood. I fooled myself for the first few years, since I was married, I wasn't a single mom, was I? Let's investigate that for a moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My first ex-husband worked at a job that took him away for a week at a time, every other week. So, I was the sole parent in the home half the time. He was a decent parent to our oldest son. By the time our second son came along, he had found himself a second job which kept him away long days during his week home with us. He would come home for dinner, at times. When our daughter was born, he moved out. I was a single mom in earnest then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My second husband, while he was good with our own son for the most part, kept himself distant from my older children, not really parenting them at all. Then he got job that kept him away all week long, only coming home weekends, where he would hide in the bedroom watching TV or with his nose in the computer screen. I was the single parental figure in that house as well. He has since moved out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, again I find myself in the role of single mother. It isn't terribly unsettling to me, as it is role I have been used to for so long. I honestly do not mind not having to negotiate issues with another parent on decisions for my children. What I do mind is the lack of continuity my children experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I work full time, 12 hour swing shifts. I am always being called to come in to cover this or that for work since we are severely understaffed. My children never seem to know which end is up. The never know if I am going to work or coming home. It is really frustrating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I make rules, and I hope they are enforced.....the only enforcer is the 15yr old son. While he likes to believe he is the king, frankly, the other kids really do not show him a lot of respect.....he doesn't really earn it. I put out lists of chores, but without someone there to keep my Attention Deficit Disorder brood on task, the chores often go undone, to be left for Mom to complete on her very rare days off. Bringing me to another issue, my days off. I am usually so exhausted that it takes a day or two to even have enough energy to consider doing any house work, then I have to go back to work again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This brings me to today. I worked last night, just as I am tonight. I got home and basically crawled into bed. I woke up at about 4pm and called to my daughter and my son to come to my room. (I am a princess, you all know, and I beckoned my minions to my chambers). I asked my daughter to please make me a cup of Earl Grey tea and asked my son if he could possibly make me some chicken noodle soup and a grilled cheese sandwich. I was tired still and just wanted to relax before having to get up for work. About one hour later, I was still tea, soup and sandwichless.  Not to mention a little miffed.  So, at the urging of a friend, I decided to lay down the law.  I called them all to my room.  Pointed out the time frame and the small favour I had asked.  I was on a roll.  I then added that I work the long hours to pay for the house, food, clothes, video games, stereos, etc that they all enjoy.  I layed down some pretty heavy guilt.  It wasn't long and I had tea, soup and two sandwiches brought to my bed for me to enjoy before heading off to the shower before work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I wonder what will happen today when I wake up from my nap.  All I want is a cup of tea when I wake up from my sleep.  I ask for the same thing, every time.....you would think that they could remember and anticipate my desire and my need.  It certainly isn't rocket science.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-6053425947776926854?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/6053425947776926854/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=6053425947776926854&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/6053425947776926854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/6053425947776926854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/01/it-isnt-rocket-sciencei-tell-you.html' title='It isn&apos;t rocket science,I tell you'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-5061646648182504619</id><published>2007-01-05T10:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-01-05T11:27:07.063-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Getting back to the blog................</title><content type='html'>The holidays are over.  All the presents opened, the paper trashed, the noise makers blown and the champagne drank.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see that Blogrolling.com is still not working.....some things do not change I suppose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2007, a new year....full of new and exciting things for so many of us.  My life changed drastically at the end of 2006.  I am headed in new directions, all with positive outlook.  I am happy, content, excited.......and a little scared.  Things are going to be very different for me in the coming year.  As things unfurl, I will start to tell you about them here, but for now, I will not tempt fate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing I will tell you about though, happened just before Christmas.  I bought myself a new car!!!!!!!  Not totally new, a buy back from a rental company, but fairly new and red and shiny.  It is a 2006 Chrysler Sebring......and I call him Sebastian.  I love it.  Of course it is still a 4 door, since I still have 4 children.  But to me it is sporty, and sexy and I feel really good driving it.  Just one more move towards my new life!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-5061646648182504619?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/5061646648182504619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=5061646648182504619&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/5061646648182504619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/5061646648182504619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2007/01/getting-back-to-blog.html' title='Getting back to the blog................'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-6635131262087879232</id><published>2006-12-22T01:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-12-22T01:02:41.573-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Off to celebrate an Insane Christmas!</title><content type='html'>And I wouldn't have it any other way! I am heading out to my Mom's for the whole holiday season, so you won't see another post here from me until into the New Year.  Don't forget to subscribe to this blog and then you will be informed when the new posts start in January.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you to all of my loyal readers for the fun comments and just the shear joy of knowing what you say matters to someone!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-6635131262087879232?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/6635131262087879232/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=6635131262087879232&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/6635131262087879232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/6635131262087879232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2006/12/off-to-celebrate-insane-christmas.html' title='Off to celebrate an Insane Christmas!'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-8363726026178854289</id><published>2006-12-21T05:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-12-21T05:10:38.880-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Saving the world, one granny at a time.........</title><content type='html'>Now, I am not a believer in active euthanasia, that would definitely be frowned upon in my profession.....but....when they are heading towards the light........LET THEM GO!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I once had a doctor from South Africa tell me, "We are in a civilized nation here, we can't just sit back and do nothing"......Why not? Why can't we let God's will reign, why can't we let nature take its course? Why can't we let people who are old, sick and dying, just die? What is this need we have to hold on?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Countless times I have seen us trying to force medications down the throats of people dying of cancer. We know they are dying, they have opted not to take treatments or their cancer is too far advanced. Does that Colace and Vitamin D really NEED to be given? Does the Alzheimers patient who doesn't even recognize her own face in the mirror really need to take her Didrocal? I just don't understand it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for myself, if, God Forbid, I am ever struck with one of these ailments, I will refuse all and any treatments. No IV, no blood work, no antibiotics, NO CPR, nothing. Feed me only chocolate pudding and ice cream. I just do not think that you last days on earth should be spent trying to force down pills that you are only going to throw back up anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please go and get a living will drawn up, no matter how young or old you are. Make decisions for yourself, and don't let a grieving family member have to make those decisions for you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-8363726026178854289?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/8363726026178854289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=8363726026178854289&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/8363726026178854289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/8363726026178854289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2006/12/saving-world-one-granny-at-time.html' title='Saving the world, one granny at a time.........'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-7776612595629551436</id><published>2006-12-18T07:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-12-18T07:32:33.596-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just another Manic Monday</title><content type='html'>I suppose that title dates me a bit, huh? I remember when that song came out. Sometime in the early 80's. I was in Junior High school I think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But this is definitely the anthem for my Monday mornings. Always.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really don't like having to get up in the mornings and get kids off to school. The constant struggle is too much to take some days. I call them in plenty of time to get up, get dressed, eat, make their OWN lunches..........but, they don't get out of bed. They lay there until like 8:25......until I have yelled back down at them several times. They never seem to find the time to make their own lunches or even eat breakfast. I have tried calling them up earlier and earlier....nothing helps. I have tried leaving them to face the consequences with school, but I am the one who gets the phone call and the reprimand about them being late. I don't know how to remedy this situation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This particular Monday is more manic though. I have to work tonight, and for 3 nights. I have gotten my Christmas shopping done at least....but nothing is wrapped. I wonder if it is bad form to wrap presents at work if it isn't busy? *LOL* I also have a house that is a demolition zone. I have a ton of laundry to do before I leave on Saturday. I have to somehow convince my kids to clean the garbage out of the van so that I can pack in said presents, clothing, 4 kids and a dog to travel the 5 hours to my mom's house for Christmas. I honestly do not know if I am going to make it!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-7776612595629551436?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/7776612595629551436/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=7776612595629551436&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/7776612595629551436'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/7776612595629551436'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2006/12/just-another-manic-monday.html' title='Just another Manic Monday'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-6750182531319518344</id><published>2006-12-15T11:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-12-16T08:14:24.026-07:00</updated><title type='text'>6 weird things about me</title><content type='html'>I was tagged by Frannie Farmer of &lt;a href="http://youcantunscramblescrambledeggs.blogspot.com/"&gt;You Can't Unscramble Scrambled Eggs&lt;/a&gt; fame a few days ago to write about 6 weird things about me. I am having some difficulty with it, since, frankly, I do not think I am weird. I am completely normal, the rest of the friggen' world is weird. But.....I am sure that YOU all would be able to note some weird traits about me. If there are any I have missed, please feel free to comment.......you bunch of weirdos...........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Weird Things About Me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I love the cream filled chocolates in the box of chocolate...you know, the ones other people bite into and throw in the garbage....no, I don't take them OUT of the garbage and eat them, (thinking of George of Seinfeld and the half eaten donut), but I would never throw one INTO the garbage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I have an office supply fetish. I love office supplies. I carry a ziploc bag full of markers and pens and highlighters and crap in my bag to work. I also carry kids stickers to hand out at work. And I don't let my OWN kids used any of it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I am a blog addict. But none of you think that is weird, do you. What is weird is that I don't understand why lay people are not as interested in it as I am. You would think they would find it really interesting to read what is going on in my crazy little mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. I am a nurse, and that just makes me weird about certain things. I have this strange compulsion to see what is lurking inside boils, pimples, and generally any festering wound that I may find. I should have actually been a pathologist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. I collect craft supplies. I have boxes of yarn, cross stitch patterns, kits, knitting needles and crochet hooks of all sizes. I do crafts a bit. I love to do them, but even if I live to be 125, I doubt I will ever use it all up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. I have a thing about patterns and numbers. I know that is some psychological disorder. I don't care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I need to tag someone.........hmmmmmm........not sure who reads here everyday and who hasn't done this already. What the heck, if you want to join in, consider yourself tagged.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://livewithrealme.blogspot.com/"&gt;livewithrealme&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-6750182531319518344?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/6750182531319518344/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=6750182531319518344&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/6750182531319518344'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/6750182531319518344'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2006/12/6-weird-things-about-me.html' title='6 weird things about me'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-8348447336617866536</id><published>2006-12-14T09:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-12-14T09:52:45.210-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I am really PO'ed with Blogrolling</title><content type='html'>I know, I know, you get what you pay for.....and since it is free, I shouldn't complain.........but......I will anyway.  This piece of crap service they call Blogrolling needs a kick in the gonads.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It claims to be the best link manager online.  Well, it can't even seem to ping the blogs efficiently.  I have mine set to put the most recently updated blogs to the top of the list, this particular feature has not been working for days.  I did go in and manually ping all the blogs a couple days ago, but I see that everything is settling to the bottom again. FRUSTRATING!  The worst is, I have sent email complaints, and been scouring the discussion forums, only to find that Blogrolling has all but been abandonned by its owners.  No one writes back, no one checks the forums, and their own blog about blogrolling news hasn't been updated since August.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyone out there reading this know of a better service that will do the same thing that Blogrolling CLAIMS to be able to do?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-8348447336617866536?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/8348447336617866536/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=8348447336617866536&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/8348447336617866536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/8348447336617866536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2006/12/i-am-really-poed-with-blogrolling.html' title='I am really PO&apos;ed with Blogrolling'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-9024472535359123556</id><published>2006-12-14T06:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-12-14T09:17:44.848-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Guest Post Thursdays have become a bust.....</title><content type='html'>Another Thursday, no guest post. But hey, I can post for myself, I am a big girl!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is such a difficult time of year. The hustle and bustle. The overspending, over eating, over drinking, over and over and over. I am not particularly a Christmas person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have often said, if I hadn't had children, I would just ignore Christmas all together. The holiday had always been rather depressing to me, even as a child. I was the youngest of 5 children. My siblings being 14, 12, 10, &amp; 6 years older than me. I often felt like an only child. The three older kids all left home young, marrying young and moving away. I do not really remember any Christmases with them home. They didn't trek home like so many families do. They made their own traditions with their children, and outside of maybe one or two, we just were not together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom worked in a nursing home. She, like me, worked swing shifts, and often worked holidays too. I do not ever remember resenting this. It was just how life was. My children have much the same feeling....there are many holidays that I am not home. This left my father and I alone a lot. This was not a bad thing. My dad and I were close. We talked a lot. We talked about intelligent things. I loved having my dad to myself a lot of the time. He taught me to speak French....though, not particularly well. I wish I had paid more attention to that now, now that he is gone. I would love to be able to speak French with more confidence and ease.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At Christmas time though, my dad would often turn sullen, melancholy. I would ask him what was wrong. He would tell me, he missed his family. His brothers had both died young. His sister rarely ventured from her home to visit us. He sometimes would go to visit there, but usually, he just was home with me. We would sit in the living room, by the lights of the Christmas tree, watching some TV special, or listening to Mario Lanza's Christmas album, my dad's favourite. He would often be crying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As years went on, I too left home. I rarely came back for Christmas. I had my own baby and chose to make my own traditions too. But still, at night when everyone was gone to bed, I would sit, by the lights of the Christmas tree, and I too would cry. Not even sure why. Probably mourning the big family gatherings I never had. I had always wanted to have a family like the Waltons.....everyone just caring so much about each other, wanting to be together. I had tried a few times to bring my family together at Christmas.....for Heaven's sake, we all lived in the same city... my parents had even moved there too...but it never really happened. Sure we would get together for the meal, but soon everyone would drift away. There was no lingering and visiting......it left me feeling empty and even more alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year, though, I am taking some vacation time. I am taking my children and going to spend Christmas with my mom. I have already told my sisters that I want us to get together for New Year's Day......I do hope that they honour this request. But even if they don't......I am going to go home, to be with my mom.......to spend the holidays the way they should be, with my family. And for the first time in a very very long time, I am excited about Christmas!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.technorati.com/claim/pg6zyzr655" rel="me"&gt;Technorati Profile&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-9024472535359123556?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/9024472535359123556/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=9024472535359123556&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/9024472535359123556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/9024472535359123556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2006/12/guest-post-thursdays-have-become-bust.html' title='Guest Post Thursdays have become a bust.....'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-7289063870086297466</id><published>2006-12-12T08:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-12-12T09:23:36.587-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My first breakdown as a nurse.......</title><content type='html'>This past weekend has been difficult for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For anyone who is just tuning in, I am a registered nurse in a rural hospital. I am a recently single mom again, to 4 children. I work 12 hour swing shifts, and am in a state of anxiety and exhaustion a lot of the time. Friday morning was no exception to this rule.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went in to work on Friday morning. The girls (my co-workers) were talking about events that had happened in the community the day before. Neither incident happening in our own hospital, but to people in our community. There had been a bad accident where a pregnant woman was killed 2 days before her wedding, while her fiance was travelling in the vehicle behind her. The other involving a 2 1/2 yr old baby, who was sleeping with its mother. The mother woke to find the baby dead beside her in the bed. There are speculations about what happened, the baby had been ill at birth for several weeks, but my heart just ached for these people. So much death, so close to Christmas. It was really a shock. But I am a tough nurse and a tough person, things like this, while they make me reflect on my own mortality, do not really affect me in any other way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The morning had been uneventful. I had a meeting for one of the committees I am on, and that was fine. After lunch we had a staff meeting planned. When I came back from lunch, one of my co-workers said that there was someone there to see me. I go to the nursing station to find my ex sitting there. He and I have been having problems probably since shortly after we got together, but more intense difficulties in the last year, until I told him not to come home again about 8 weeks ago. This man is the father of my youngest son, Tuc. He and I never married. But, he is still my ex for all intents and purposes. I ask him to come to the quiet room, so I can shut the door and tell him off in private. How inappropriate to show up at my work, bringing me gifts.....we are not a couple anymore. He wanted to talk about getting back together.......I want nothing more to do with this relationship. I spent way too much time trying to convince him that it was truly over. I did go to my staff meeting, but my head was not in the game. I kept wondering what the hell this man was wanting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The meeting ended, he was still sitting in the quiet room. Two of the other nurses had gone to pass out ice and do vitals in the afternoon. The emergency bell rang from one of the rooms. I rush in there to find a relatively young man lying on the floor, a pool of blood under his head. No pulse, no breathing. The other RN comes in, we are doing CPR, waiting for the dr to come.....what seemed like forever, probably just a few minutes. He is intubated, we are still doing CPR, there is no rhythm on the monitor. We are giving him drugs. I am bagging him, my co-workers pumping his chest. The dr calls the time of death.........then the man's cell phone rings........the room falls silent. We know it must be his wife. No one answers the phone. I take the bagger off of him, lean my head against the wall. I am overcome, I cannot take one more moment of this scene. I leave the room and head to the med room. Shut the door and put my head on the counter and cry. I have never once cried over a patient. That is not to say I haven't felt sad or angry enough before, but I have always kept my composure. This, the culmination of all that was happening, just did me in. A fairly young nurse came into the room too, she too was crying, I hugged her, told her that we did our best, that there was nothing more we could have done. All the while I am angry at my ex for having added to the stress of my day. He is still sitting in the waiting room of my hospital. I want to scream at him, but I can't. I want him to go away. I refuse to go back to talk to him again. He does finally leave, late in the afternoon, after a co-worker went and told him to please leave, he had been there long enough. I was so drained.....but I went back to work on Saturday and on Sunday. Sunday morning being another difficult one. A palliative care patient, only diagnosed with cancer a few days earlier, died at the morning shift change, with many many family around him. It was so sad, his wife barely able to cope. This too, broke my heart. I hugged the wife and talked with the children. Then set about my task of caring for the body. Not a tear in sight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been an RN for going on 9 years. I worked in health care for many years before that, in several different capacities. I am a good nurse, I am a tough nurse, I am a compassionate nurse. I care for patients, families, co-workers alike. I do my job as efficiently as I can.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-7289063870086297466?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/7289063870086297466/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=7289063870086297466&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/7289063870086297466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/7289063870086297466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2006/12/my-first-breakdown-as-nurse.html' title='My first breakdown as a nurse.......'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9997896.post-8513557624304962383</id><published>2006-12-06T11:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-12-06T12:32:39.114-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I love big butts and I don't know why.......</title><content type='html'>Me: Tuc, you are such a cutie-patootie&lt;br /&gt;Tuc: What's a "tatootie"&lt;br /&gt;Me: *patting his butt* That is your patootie&lt;br /&gt;Tuc: My cute tatootie!! Cute TATTOOTIE!! Cute Buttootie!!!&lt;br /&gt;Me: *laughing*&lt;br /&gt;Tuc: You cute buttootie too, Mom....&lt;br /&gt;Me: Thanks, Tuc....&lt;br /&gt;Tuc: Mom, why is your butt big and mine is wittle??&lt;br /&gt;Me: Tuc, mommy's have big butts sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;Tuc: You just growed it that way, huh?&lt;br /&gt;Me: Yep Tuc, with the help of you four kids and Ben &amp; Jerry&lt;br /&gt;Tuc: Who are Ben &amp; Jerry??&lt;br /&gt;Me: Never mind, kiddo&lt;br /&gt;Tuc: I wuv your big buttootie, Mom......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gotta love that kid.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9997896-8513557624304962383?l=iris1966.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/feeds/8513557624304962383/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9997896&amp;postID=8513557624304962383&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/8513557624304962383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9997896/posts/default/8513557624304962383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://iris1966.blogspot.com/2006/12/i-love-big-butts-and-i-dont-know-why.html' title='I love big butts and I don&apos;t know why.......'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03368365789695838193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MBk8cf2DJo8/SMAalUSUxeI/AAAAAAAAADE/oy3r2Fn_sV8/S220/smalljandicolor.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry></feed>
