tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-75239661356227618312011-07-08T04:14:35.113-07:00I live in the Happy Valley where; food is organic,everyone drives hybrid car and shaving is optional. How is a city girl to survive?Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.comBlogger2251100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-76635503855361891402011-06-30T06:04:00.000-07:002011-06-30T06:12:57.099-07:00Choices--they are a good thing?<div>It's nice to have them but it does let you see the cost of things.</div><div><br /></div><div>Now I am NOT complaining--but I have started to see what choices have given and </div><div>cost me,</div><div>in small ways.</div><div><br /></div><div>For example --summer vacations.</div><div>From 1997-2008 we went to Maine every summer.</div><div>It was beautiful and wonderful.</div><div>Hubby's parents rented the same house and people would come and go as they wanted.</div><div>We took the kids every year.</div><div><br /></div><div>We loved it.</div><div>The house felt like ours, we knew the routine, we new the area, we saw the same people.</div><div>It was tradition.</div><div>It was a big part of my daughter's childhood.</div><div><br /></div><div>What we didn't do in the summer was travel.</div><div>We didn't see the National Parks or go out west, something I really wanted to do.</div><div><br /></div><div>So now we are planning a trip out west and we aren't sure if my daughter will be able to go.</div><div>She may be working--she is at the age.</div><div>Granted she traveled with her camp the last 2 summers,</div><div>but this trip may be without her. </div><div><br /></div><div>Choices.....</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-7663550385536189140?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-47295338425580595942011-05-30T12:28:00.000-07:002011-05-30T12:44:37.698-07:00Time is a funny thing.<div>It has been getting my attention lately-- </div><div>and in an usual way. </div><div>Through novels.</div><div><br /></div><div>Every year around this time, I start to unwind from the school year.</div><div>I read novels; not heavy, light reading.</div><div>I call it " back washing out my brain".</div><div><br /></div><div>I just read BEACH TREES by Karen White.</div><div>It is set in Mississppi right after Katrina and the oil spill.</div><div><br /></div><div>One of the characters is named Miss Ammie.</div><div>Miss Ammie is the grandmother and throughout the book she recalls stories from when she was a young bride.</div><div>After reading 2 or 3 of Miss Ammie's stories it hits me...</div><div><b>I</b> could be the young baby in the story and Miss Ammie could my mother.</div><div><br /></div><div>The story is not about us but, the time line is right.</div><div>In the early 60's my mother <b>was</b> a young mother.</div><div><br /></div><div>How did that happen?</div><div>How did the story of remembering become my mother's memories and not my grandmother's?</div><div><br /></div><div>I mean, I know my grandparents are dead.</div><div>I know I have children and they have have grandparents.</div><div>But, I never saw it in black and white.</div><div><br /></div><div>I have moved over on the timeline.</div><div>Not just my time line...</div><div>the <b>world'</b>s time line.</div><div><br /></div><div>This will take some getting used to....</div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-4729533842558059594?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-85836266957267045522011-01-26T09:13:00.000-08:002011-01-28T04:46:24.342-08:00It's been a whirlwind.<div>First I discovered I couldn't eat Gluten.</div><div>This summer I discovered I coldn't eat soy.</div><div>This holiday season I discovered I couldn't eat Soy Lecithin.</div><div>Soy Lecuthin is in EVERYTHING--chocolate, mayo, The almond milk I use using.</div><div>It was like discovering I gluten all over again.</div><div><br /></div><div>I think I finally got rid of all the Soy lecithin in my diet.</div><div>It's been a week--I discoverd this problem in December!</div><div>I am feeling better.</div><div><br /></div><div>The side effect--I am eating more, not less.</div><div>The same thing happened with Gluten.</div><div>Once I find something I CAN eat, I eat a lot of it.</div><div>Portion sizes do not apply.</div><div><br /></div><div>My strong sense is not to worry about that right now--a step at a time.</div><div>First concentrate on finding healthy meals, healthy foods.</div><div><br /></div><div>Next will come portion control, but for now don't deprive myself of anything else.</div><div><br /></div><div>A day at a time, a meal at a time</div><div>Here's hoping to to no more set backs!</div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-8583626695726704552?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-89144599982942100012010-09-13T12:20:00.000-07:002010-09-13T12:50:20.597-07:00The other night we were at a college football game.<div>Luke bought along a friend.</div><div><br /></div><div>We were sitting near the top of the bleachers.</div><div>A group of boys,</div><div> around Luke's age </div><div>came and sat near us.</div><div><br /></div><div>After about 20 minutes, one of the boys younger brother came to join them.</div><div>He looked about 5, the other boys looked around 10.</div><div><br /></div><div>He told his brother that he had to sit next to him.</div><div>The kid sitting next to the big brother wouldn't move.</div><div><br /></div><div>The big brother asked him to move.</div><div>He refused.</div><div><br /></div><div>The little bother tried to squeeze in.</div><div>The boy pushed the little brother off the bench.</div><div><br /></div><div>I turned to him told him to cut it and make room for the little kid.</div><div><br /></div><div>Luke was horrified.</div><div>" Mommy!"he said.</div><div><br /></div><div>About 10 minutes later the bully boy left.</div><div>When he returned he had posters for everyone.</div><div>Everyone except the the little boy.</div><div><br /></div><div>He taunted the little boy with the poster.</div><div>Luke and his friend got upset.</div><div><br /></div><div>" That's so mean, " they both said.</div><div>Then they started whispering.</div><div><br /></div><div>A few moments later,</div><div>they got up and walked over to the little boy.</div><div><br /></div><div>" If you want a poster we will go get you one, " they said.</div><div><br /></div><div>The shy little boy shook his head.</div><div><br /></div><div>The bully's mouth dropped.</div><div><br /></div><div>Luke and his friend went back to their seats.</div><div><br /></div><div>The bully sat there for a few minutes. </div><div>Then took the little boy by his hand and brought him down to get a poster.</div><div><br /></div><div>Nothing like being shamed into doing the right thing by your peers!</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-8914459998294210001?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-23746581314754719392010-09-09T12:23:00.000-07:002010-09-09T12:38:19.046-07:00As we near yet another anniversary of September 11th, <div>I am reminded of something MoMo said a few weeks after.</div><div><br /></div><div>Gena's sister was dying of cancer--yes, 2001 was another bad year for us.</div><div>MoMo was 6 and we decided that we would see Aunt Susie dying.</div><div>Gena had taken the lead on this.</div><div>I think she knew that one day MoMo would have to watch her die.</div><div><br /></div><div>MoMo wasn't very close to Aunt Susie.</div><div>She did spend time with her at the end.</div><div><br /></div><div>The day sfter Susie died, I was tucking Maureen into bed.</div><div>As I leaned over to kiss her goodnight she suddenly sat up and started to cry.</div><div><br /></div><div>"If Aunt Susie is dead, and the bad guys from the airplane are dead. Can they hurt Aunt Susie?"</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-2374658131475471939?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-41775231272663646752010-09-07T14:08:00.000-07:002010-09-07T14:20:35.299-07:00I am estranged from my family.<div>I get an occasional <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">email from</span> my mom but that's it.</div><div>It's a long <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">story</span>--one for another day.</div><div><br /></div><div>As a result of being estranged, I have lost track of many of my cousins.</div><div>That was until <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">FACE BOOK</span>.</div><div><br /></div><div>About a year ago my cousin Joyce contacted me through <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Facebook</span>.</div><div>I was so <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">surprised</span> and thrilled to hear from her.</div><div>The last time I had seen her was in high school and now she had a grown son!</div><div><br /></div><div>We exchanged emails and commented on each others pictures and posts.</div><div>She helped me get in touch with more cousins.</div><div><br /></div><div>A few months ago she was found unconscious in her bathroom.</div><div>No one was sure how long she was there.</div><div>She remained in a coma for 6 more days.</div><div>When she finally came out of the coma she had sustained liver and heart damaged.</div><div><br /></div><div>When she returned home she asked me to call her.</div><div>I did.</div><div>We spoke for about an hour--I hadn't heard from her in 20 years.</div><div>We got caught up.</div><div><br /></div><div>A week later she <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">texted</span> me and told she was on her way back to the hospital.</div><div>She was bleeding internally.</div><div>Somehow she made it through surgery and again was <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">unconscious</span> for days after.</div><div><br /></div><div>Last week she rallied--a little.</div><div>But that was short lived.</div><div>Last night she died.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am feeling sad and a little lost.</div><div>She was a connection to my past.</div><div>We grew up together. </div><div>We shared holidays and</div><div>we shared family.</div><div><br /></div><div>I will miss her posts and her emails.</div><div>I will miss that connection.</div><div><br /></div><div>I feel...... sad......a drift..........</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-4177523127266364675?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-9067016031425559222010-09-06T05:22:00.000-07:002010-09-06T05:42:17.499-07:00In May of 2009 I discovered I couldn't eat gluten.<div>It had started out slowly.</div><div>I had done "mini fast" in April.</div><div>I cut out wheat, sugar and caffeine.</div><div>I had been feeling sluggish and my Yoga instructor thought this might be helpful.</div><div><br /></div><div>After I started the fast, I got SICK!!!</div><div>I spent many hours in the bathroom.</div><div>But after a few days I started to feel better.</div><div><br /></div><div>In May I started eating bread again.</div><div>I was in P town for the weekend and we went out for breakfast.</div><div>The restaurant specialized in homemade French Toast and I couldn't resist!!</div><div><br /></div><div>The next day I noticed bumps on my hands.</div><div>I continued to eat wheat and within a few days my legs were covered in hives.</div><div>They itched and were hot to the touch.</div><div>I had awful stomach pain , low grade fever and headaches.</div><div><br /></div><div>After a few trips to the doctor it was discovered that I couldn't tolerate gluten.</div><div><br /></div><div>It took me a awhile to get used to this idea. </div><div>The first months, I was afraid to eat anything.</div><div>I lived on eggs.</div><div><br /></div><div>I managed to get through the first year but still wasn't feeling great.</div><div>This summer I discovered that I couldn't tolerate Soy products.</div><div><br /></div><div>I spent most of this summer learning how to cook gluten free.</div><div>I totally embraced it.</div><div>I started following blogs, reading cookbooks and trying new recipes.</div><div>The most amazing thing was my family liked the gluten free food better than the gluten free food.</div><div><br /></div><div>I made homemade granola, tomato sauce and lots of salads and stir fries.</div><div><br /></div><div>School started back up and I was all set.</div><div>I had my almond milk, my homemade granola and gluten free bread.</div><div>On opening Day the superintendent made an <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">announcement</span>.</div><div>We were a nut free school. </div><div>No nuts of any kind!</div><div><br /></div><div>Do you know how much gluten free food is made with ALMONDS!!!</div><div><br /></div><div>I knew we had kids that had peanut allergies.</div><div>I didn't bring peanut products to school.</div><div>But no one had reported any allergies to almonds.</div><div><br /></div><div>But now I am back to square one.</div><div>I feeling defeated.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am trying to find quick, easy food to grab at work that doesn't have nuts, milk, soy or gluten.</div><div><br /></div><div>Any ideas?</div><div><br /></div><div>So </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-906701603142555922?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-15096067951836714422010-09-05T13:31:00.000-07:002010-09-05T13:46:51.058-07:00Gena always hated Labor Day weekend.<div>She hated fall.</div><div><br /></div><div>She said it went back to when she was in first grade and her parents sent her to boarding school.</div><div>Imagine that--boarding school in the first grade.</div><div><br /></div><div>As the fall season <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">would</span> began its <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">descent</span>, Gena would fall into a funk.</div><div>She would become depressed.</div><div>So it is somehow fitting that it was Labor Day weekend, 2 years ago that she began her final <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">descent</span> from us.</div><div><br /></div><div>She complained of chest pains and Tom once again took her<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"> the</span> hospital.</div><div>He called to let us know while we attending the wake of a good friend of ours.</div><div>After spending the weekend in a hospital here in the Happy Valley,</div><div>she was once again sent to a hospital in Boston.</div><div><br /></div><div>We were used to seeing her in hospitals in Boston.</div><div>Since I had met her she had many stays in Boston <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Hospitals</span>.</div><div>There her heart surgeries, mini strokes, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">laser</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">surgeries</span> on her eyes and of course,</div><div>the biggest stay of all....</div><div>the kidney transplant.</div><div><br /></div><div>This time the trip was different.</div><div>There weren't any tricks to pull out of the bag.</div><div>No last minute miracle to try.</div><div><br /></div><div>This time the word was spoken.</div><div>The word we didn't want to hear.</div><div><br /></div><div>Hospice</div><div><br /></div><div>That was her last trip to a Boston Hospital.</div><div>Instead of a new miracle, she began a new journey.</div><div>A journey that took her away from us. </div><div>A that taught us so much.</div><div><br /></div><div>So as we reflect on Labor Day, and all the things we labor,</div><div>I reflect on Gena's labor of love of life.</div><div>How she fought for each moment of it and tried to live it to the fullest.</div><div><br /></div><div>Gens, I miss you....</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-1509606795183671442?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-587188648320492942010-08-19T04:40:00.001-07:002010-08-19T04:59:01.812-07:00Twenty-one years ago I married my best friend.<div>It was by far the best decision I ever made!</div><div><br /></div><div>My parents didn't support my decision.</div><div>My parents didn't want me to get married.</div><div>I was to stay at home and take care of them and my siblings.</div><div><br /></div><div>My mom would wait up when I came home from dates and have a list of reasons why I needed to break up with J.</div><div>My dad would leave the room <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">every time</span> J came over.</div><div><br /></div><div>I was engaged 3 days before I told them.</div><div>After they found out they tried to break it off.</div><div>My mom took me out for dinner and gave me a list of reasons why this was a bad choice.</div><div>Several weeks later they had both of us over to dinner and the whole family confronted us and told us not to get married.</div><div>We left --but not after we gave them a piece of our minds.</div><div>That was the last meal I ever had at my parents house.</div><div><br /></div><div>I wasn't sure they would come to my wedding.</div><div>I told them when and where and left it up to them.</div><div>They did come, but I think it was because several extended family members were coming.</div><div><br /></div><div>We decided not to have my dad walk my down the aisle and decided instead to walk down together.</div><div>For me, that said it all. We were in this together.</div><div><br /></div><div>We promised to not forget where we came from, to continue to grow and to have a roof over our heads and food on our tables.</div><div>So far, all our promises have been kept.</div><div><br /></div><div>My family, well we haven't seen them in 20 years.</div><div>I get an occasional email from my mom.</div><div>My kids have never met them.</div><div><br /></div><div>And my siblings--the ones who my parents supported all their marriages--divorced.</div><div>All of them divorced.</div><div><br /></div><div>And me, </div><div>well today I celebrate 21 years.</div><div>Today I have a wonderful family that supports me and loves me for who I am.</div><div><br /></div><div>Today I am truly blessed!</div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-58718864832049294?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-66657782564824267682010-08-18T04:20:00.000-07:002010-08-18T04:30:20.045-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M_48S5G_pXM/TGvCbcTMw-I/AAAAAAAAAT0/bqb8fE5jVJA/s1600/DSC_4146.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 244px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M_48S5G_pXM/TGvCbcTMw-I/AAAAAAAAAT0/bqb8fE5jVJA/s320/DSC_4146.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506708746099540962" /></a>We have a Cat Bird that hangs out by our deck.<div>She has been here for several years.</div><div>She hops on the deck railing and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">hangs</span> out with us.</div><div>She doesn't seemed bothered by the noise of the kids or the dogs.</div><div><br /></div><div>This year we discovered she had laid two eggs in the bushes next to the deck.</div><div>Luke carefully watched them. </div><div>We would put bread and cracker crumbs near her nest <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">so she</span> wouldn't venture far.</div><div><br /></div><div>A few weeks ago we noticed one egg hatched.</div><div>Pretty soon we heard little peeping nosies.</div><div>A few weeks later we noticed little noises in the bushes and every once in awhile would see two </div><div>birds hopping along in the branches.</div><div><br /></div><div>Sadly only one egg hatched.</div><div>We still see the other birds out and about.</div><div>I wonder if the new bird will join us on the deck next year?</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-6665778256482426768?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-87100008687098205402010-08-17T04:30:00.000-07:002010-08-17T04:43:32.422-07:00I have been gluten free for a little over a year now.<div>I am starting to get used to it.</div><div>I am starting to venture out and </div><div>am trying to embrace it.</div><div><br /></div><div>Last week we were on vacation.</div><div>We had an 12 hour drive to the Outer Banks.</div><div>For the car ride down I packed a great cooler full of food.</div><div>I had deviled eggs, gluten free bread with gluten free cold cuts, grapes, gluten free potato chips and gluten free candy.</div><div>The food was a success!</div><div><br /></div><div>All week long I did <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">ok</span> too.</div><div>I brought gluten free bread, gluten free flour and ate well.</div><div><br /></div><div>The ride home was another story.</div><div>The house we rented policy was no food was to be left in the house.</div><div>By the end of he week we were trying to finish up all the food.</div><div>The local grocery store had a little gluten free section.</div><div><br /></div><div>The cooler on the ride home was full of left overs and my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">hubby is</span> not fond of leftovers.</div><div><br /></div><div>We stopped at a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">McDonalds</span> for breakfast.</div><div>They ate <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">biscuits</span> with eggs, sausages and bacon.</div><div>I ate a gluten free bar.</div><div><br /></div><div>For lunch they found a Sonic.</div><div>We don't have <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Sonics</span> here no idea what is in their product so</div><div>I followed the rule--</div><div>when in doubt don't,</div><div>They happily drank thick milk shakes and raved how good they were.</div><div>I ate a soggy tuna sandwich.</div><div>Confession--I did tear up a little--I really wanted a treat!</div><div><br /></div><div>For dinner <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">McDonalds</span> again.</div><div>I ate grapes.</div><div><br /></div><div>Lesson learned.</div><div>When traveling plan for the trip home!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-8710000868709820540?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-22934548493144272622010-08-04T05:09:00.000-07:002010-08-04T05:21:35.556-07:00Since MoMo was 2 we have been going to Maine for our vacation.<div>My in-laws rented the same place and the whole family was invited up.</div><div>Most of the time it was just us that went.</div><div><br /></div><div>For the past 3 years more of the family has been coming.</div><div>Last year was the first year that Gena (ML) was not there.</div><div>She died in October.</div><div>My father in- law decided to do one more vacation up there.</div><div><br /></div><div>It was nice, but strange.</div><div>It was clear that Tom was missing Gena.</div><div><br /></div><div>The place we stay is amazing. </div><div>Right on the ocean.</div><div>Water on three sides. </div><div>A small cove next to the house.</div><div>Breath taking.</div><div><br /></div><div>The down size it is only 4 bedrooms.</div><div>A little cramped the 10 people.</div><div>And the water runs out a lot.</div><div><br /></div><div>So this year we decided to try something new.</div><div>Juls ( my sister in law) went on the internet and found a house to rent on the Outer Banks.</div><div>It has a swimming pool, 6 bedrooms and beautiful views.</div><div><br /></div><div>We leave Friday.</div><div>We are getting excited.</div><div>A new tradition will begin.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-2293454849314427262?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-89237413323427973672010-08-02T05:32:00.000-07:002010-08-02T05:40:06.057-07:00MoMo is still in Sweden. <div>We pick her up on Thursday--then leave for our vacation on Friday!</div><div><br /></div><div>Throughout her trip we have gotten emails, chatted on line and phone calls.</div><div>Her emails aren't very informative.</div><div><br /></div><div>Example--she just finished her home stay.</div><div>I asked her how it went--answer good. I like my host family. They are really nice !!!!!!!</div><div>( notice the exclamation points)</div><div><br /></div><div>I got more than J did.</div><div>When he asked about their 8 day canoe trip --a trip where they were out in the Baltic Sea for 8 days, staying on islands with no bathrooms or electricity--and oh by the way she has never been on a canoe before-- </div><div>he got</div><div>It was fun!!!!!!--give or take an exclamation point.</div><div><br /></div><div>Yesterday she sent me an email--short</div><div>I love you</div><div><br /></div><div>I guess having a teenager isn't all that bad!</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-8923741332342797367?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-5897949099277010672010-08-01T10:15:00.002-07:002010-08-01T10:37:28.208-07:00In the past I would not have described myself as a sci fi person.<div>I had fleeting periods where I watched Star Trek the Next Generation.</div><div>I did see the Star War Movies.</div><div>But that's about it.</div><div><br /></div><div>I have never been to a Star Trek convention.</div><div>And have never camped out on a sidewalk to keep my place in line to see a movie.</div><div><br /></div><div>Lately I have noticed that many of the shows I watch on Hulu are tagged --Sci Fi.</div><div><br /></div><div>Last summer I discovered Warehouse 13. </div><div>It is now a new family favorite.</div><div><br /></div><div>Last summer was also the summer that our family watched the entire Roswell series.</div><div><br /></div><div>I really enjoy watching Ghost Hunters and Ghost Hunters International. </div><div>(The verdict is still out on Ghost Hunters Academy)</div><div><br /></div><div>This summer I stumbled across Fact or Faked. </div><div>Within the first episode Luke and I were hooked. </div><div>Luke said it was a combination of Mythbusters and Ghost Hunters.</div><div><br /></div><div>I have also discovered Haven and The Gates.</div><div>Haven I was unsure of at first but it is growing on me.</div><div><br /></div><div>I didn't want to like The Gates but was quickly sucked in.</div><div>A community with the vampires, werewolves, witches and succubus<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:100%;color:#150C00;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 18px;font-size:12px;">, </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px; ">what else is there to say.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:100%;color:#150C00;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 18px;font-size:12px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#150C00;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">What is a succubus anyway?</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(21, 12, 0); line-height: 18px; font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:12px;"><br /></span></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-589794909927701067?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-30340451905730394902010-07-29T09:43:00.000-07:002010-07-30T04:01:25.448-07:00<div>Shortly after we moved to the Happy Valley, the kids school had a picnic.</div><div>Everyone brings their own dinner and we spread out on the grass and visit.</div><div><br /></div><div>The kids were excited because they knew picnic meant--KFC ( Kentucky Fried Chicken)</div><div><br /></div><div>J's family grew up on KFC. </div><div>When they were living in Ohio, every Sunday they go to Granny's house and eat KFC.</div><div><br /></div><div>In our family we had KFC on special occasions.</div><div>School picnics were definitely in that category.</div><div><br /></div><div>The day of the picnic we take off to KFC.</div><div>Get a bucket, mashed potatoes, beans and chocolate cake.</div><div><br /></div><div>We arrive at the picnic, spread out our blanket and dig in.</div><div>As we are eating I start looking around.</div><div>No one else had a bucket.</div><div>They all had brought food from home.</div><div>Food I had never seen before.</div><div>Salads, tofu, beans, lentils,buckwheat, sandwiches with mushrooms and veggies.</div><div><br /></div><div>I was shocked.</div><div>I kept asking people what they were eating--surprising no one asked us what we were eating.</div><div><br /></div><div>No one asked for a bite either!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-3034045190573039490?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-83509497612218064102010-07-29T05:10:00.000-07:002010-07-29T05:12:40.104-07:00Ok, I am trying something new.<div>Nothing gets put away until it has a proper spot!</div><div><br /></div><div>Linen closet clean.</div><div>Pantry clean</div><div>Bedroom closet clean</div><div>Some of the kitchen drawers clean.</div><div><br /></div><div>So far it's working.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am hoping to be done the end of next week when we leave for vacation!</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-8350949761221806410?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-89717120105365977982010-07-28T04:20:00.000-07:002010-07-28T04:43:27.643-07:00I have been Gluten Free for a little over a year now.<div>I am have been doing ok, but lately I hit a snag.</div><div><br /></div><div>Last Thursday I bought a new kind of soy milk for my coffee.</div><div>It was labeled Gluten Free.</div><div><br /></div><div>Tried it on Friday, felt a little off.</div><div>Used it on Saturday, had a foggy head and couldn't think straight.</div><div>Used it Sunday, got a headache and dizzy.</div><div>Checked the label again--yep, gluten free.</div><div><br /></div><div>Used it Monday and felt terrible!!!!!</div><div>Couldn't think or concentrate to read. Headache, dizzy, stomach issues!</div><div>I spent all day in bed, dozing on and off listening to a book on tape because I couldn't focus on anything!</div><div><br /></div><div>So now the question is ....</div><div>was it soy or </div><div>was it mis labeled and the product did have gluten!</div><div><br /></div><div>Either way, I threw it out!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-8971712010536597798?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-75602481303827852762010-07-27T04:27:00.001-07:002010-07-27T04:53:05.544-07:00My weird dream is pretty wild and if I do say so myself.<div>pretty amazing.</div><div><br /><div>I can hear, see colors, smell, touch, feel and taste things in my dreams.</div><div><br /></div><div>Sometimes I am me and other times,</div><div> I look down and I am someone else.</div><div><br /></div><div>I also have several places that I keep returning to.</div><div>Last night I had one of those dreams.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am in Maine--or so I think.</div><div>I am with my family.</div><div>We drive the same way each time.( not the real way we drive to Maine)</div><div>After a few minutes, I know where we are, I recognize it.</div><div>I know where we are going.</div><div><br /></div><div>We pass the village common, with the white church and stone path.</div><div>We pass the little art store and bakery.</div><div>We drive more and see the parking lot for the boats.</div><div>Turn left follow the street that is next to the ocean.</div><div>It's green and lush, smells of salty air.</div><div><br /></div><div>We drive over the bridge, see the red building ahead.</div><div>We turn into the the old parking lot.</div><div>The gravel is uneven and there is grass sticking out.</div><div><br /></div><div>We unload the car </div><div>and start walking towards the woods on the other side of the parking lot.</div><div><br /></div><div>When we reach reach the woods, we see a path.</div><div>We take it.</div><div><br /></div><div>We walk through the woods for a while.</div><div>Then there is a foot bridge that is over an outlet to the ocean.</div><div>We walk over the bridge.</div><div><br /></div><div>We continue walking and then the path comes out to a clearing that has several houses,</div><div>well cottages.</div><div><br /></div><div>Ours is the third one on the left.</div><div>It's white with a screened in porch.</div><div>It's small and cozy inside.</div><div>Living room, kitchen and three bedrooms.</div><div><br /></div><div>The views from the house are amazing.</div><div>We are surrounded by ocean inlets and </div><div>VERY few people know about this place.</div><div><br /></div><div>Every time I dream about this place-I dream about this place 3-5 times a year,</div><div>I learn more about it.</div><div><br /></div><div>One time I went on a tour of the town and walked the path next to the church in the common.</div><div><br /></div><div>Last night I met the some neighbor</div><div><br /></div><div>The neighbor last night lived next door.</div><div>She was dressed from the 50's, buttoned down shirt and skirt.</div><div>She was happy to see and asked where I had been all summer.</div><div><br /></div><div>When I woke up I realized I hadn't dreamt about that place all summer......</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-7560248130382785276?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-69473048104690986702010-07-24T04:29:00.000-07:002010-07-24T04:35:11.762-07:00It's so hard, when someone you care about is hurting.<div>It's almost easier to the one in pain,</div><div>rather than watch the one you love.</div><div><br /></div><div>I feel protective, angry and sad.</div><div>But my overwhelming feeling is hopeless.</div><div><br /></div><div>I want to fix it--but I can't.</div><div>I want to make it go away--but I can't.</div><div>I want to confront the person who is hurting the one I love--but I can't.</div><div>It's not my battle.</div><div><br /></div><div>So I sit here with all this anger and sadness and wonder what to do.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am just so ANGRY!!!!!</div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-6947304810469098670?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-16728248333653237062010-07-22T08:22:00.001-07:002010-07-23T03:53:36.508-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M_48S5G_pXM/TEhkJ0EdfHI/AAAAAAAAATs/swtK8YjVlwM/s1600/IMG_0960.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M_48S5G_pXM/TEhkJ0EdfHI/AAAAAAAAATs/swtK8YjVlwM/s320/IMG_0960.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496753464964643954" /></a>Summer time and hair don't mix.<div>Between the pool, beach and sun--forget it!</div><div><br /></div><div>Each year I start the summer with a new cut and color.</div><div>I get something short and easy to manage--or so I think.</div><div><br /></div><div>About this time, my hair is a mess!</div><div>Bleached, brassy and growing out.</div><div>Fizzy from humid weather.</div><div><br /></div><div>So, why do I keep scheduling my vacation when it looks the worse?!</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-1672824833365323706?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-82271820267938715672010-07-21T08:26:00.000-07:002010-07-22T04:15:44.781-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_M_48S5G_pXM/TEgoR2Gz1aI/AAAAAAAAATc/6VY0Tt6KNkU/s1600/Maureenebeen.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_M_48S5G_pXM/TEgoR2Gz1aI/AAAAAAAAATc/6VY0Tt6KNkU/s320/Maureenebeen.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496687632252655010" /></a><br />There are times in my life that I have tried to freeze in my memory.<div><br /><div>I remember when <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">MoMo</span></span> was 3.</div><div>We were sitting in the rocking chair in her pink and yellow sponged painted room.</div><div>I was rocking her and reading Time For Bed.</div><div><br /></div><div>She fit perfectly in my lap.</div><div>Her feet came to the edge of my knees. </div><div>I could tilt my head slightly and rest it on her head,</div><div>I could wrap my arms around her and have my arms touch the other's elbow.</div><div><br /></div><div>I remember snuggling her in her pink bunnies ( what she called footy PJ's),</div><div>and thinking </div><div>"I need to remember this.</div><div> I need to remember what if felt like to hold and cuddle her. </div><div>This will be gone soon.</div><div>This is my time with her as a toddler."</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Today I had that moment with Luke.</div><div>He was getting ready for camp.</div><div>His face was tan and freckles were scattered across his nose.</div><div>He had on a green baseball cap, a soccer shirt and soccer shorts.</div><div>His smile was full of mischief and exposed his newly grown in teeth that didn't quite fit his mouth yet.</div><div>I just wanted to freeze that moment.</div><div><br /></div><div>This is his time as a "boy".</div><div>He won't be a boy forever.</div><div>But for today,</div><div> </div><div>he is MY boy...</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-8227182026793871567?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-19919749802435167482010-07-20T15:34:00.000-07:002010-07-21T03:56:13.512-07:00I try to be organized, but I am not.<div><br /></div><div>I am better when I was, but still could use some help.</div><div><br /></div><div>My sister -in-law is VERY organized!</div><div>Her pantry cupboard looks like an ad for a tupperware ad.</div><div>The food is orgaizd by date and what gets the most use.</div><div>My pantry-- things are in bins--and don't look at the floor!</div><div><br /></div><div>In my defense, I was never taught how to organize things.</div><div>When I was 5 years old, I was told that it was my turn to do the dishes.</div><div>Everyone got up and left the table.</div><div>I was left to hand wash dishes for 6 people.</div><div><br /></div><div>Since then I have been trying to learn housecleaning tasks.</div><div>I am better but not great.</div><div><br /></div><div>Because I am not good at these tasks I tend to do everything.</div><div>I think I trying not to repeat my past.</div><div>I have taught Maureen to do a few things in the past year.</div><div>She does her own laundry, cleans her room and helps with the cooking.</div><div><br /></div><div>Luke on the other, not so good.</div><div>J has him doing much more than I do.</div><div><br /></div><div>Yesterday Luke started a new camp.</div><div>I was sick so J said he would get him ready and drop him off.</div><div>J showed the list of stuff he needed told him to get a bag and check off the stuff as he put it in.</div><div><br /></div><div>I would have done everything myself.</div><div><br /></div><div>But Luke did it.</div><div>Not only did he do yesterday, he did it today!</div><div><br /></div><div>I guess J was on to something!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-1991974980243516748?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-11493364704420265402010-07-20T07:17:00.000-07:002010-07-20T07:27:14.153-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y-zkntVWGPA/S-jfjriHDNI/AAAAAAAADZ8/b3ZYK1T-ZIA/s1600/on-folly-beach.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 334px; height: 448px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y-zkntVWGPA/S-jfjriHDNI/AAAAAAAADZ8/b3ZYK1T-ZIA/s1600/on-folly-beach.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a>I just finished reading Karen White's book On Folly Beach.<div>I loved it!</div><div><br /></div><div>It takes place in South Carolina on Folly Beach.</div><div>A young woman is buying an old bookstore there and stumbles across a mystery.</div><div>Someone has writing notes in the margins of the older books.</div><div>She sets out to uncover the mystery.</div><div><br /></div><div>The book plays with time--which I love.</div><div>The chapters fluctuate between now(2009 )and during WWII.</div><div><br /></div><div>Some of the information is historically based.</div><div>I learned some thing about WWII that I didn't know before.</div><div><br /></div><div>I don't want to give too much away ....</div><div>so just pick it up and read it!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-1149336470442026540?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-76392207167327323422010-07-18T08:26:00.000-07:002010-07-19T06:21:05.969-07:00It's War Time.<div><br /></div><div>We have been at war in Afghanistan since 2001.</div><div>We have been at war in Iraq since 2003.</div><div><br /></div><div>We are at war.</div><div><br /></div><div>I have been reading some books written about WWII.</div><div>In them, they talk about the sacrifices every day people made.</div><div>The home front effort.</div><div><br /></div><div>I KNOW the servicemen/ women and their families have made HUGE sacrifices,</div><div>but for now I am focusing on the rest of us.</div><div><br /></div><div>During WWII, there were sanctions and food rations.</div><div>People grew victory gardens to help with the war effort.</div><div>Today, we grow gardens or belong to farm shares to eat healthier.</div><div><br /></div><div>During WWII supplies were low.</div><div>Today, we have everything we need.</div><div>Some of us are suffering due to the banking industry.</div><div>That has to do with greed, not the war effort.</div><div>Not because we sacrifice what we had to help the servicemen/ women.</div><div><br /></div><div>During WWII, communication came in the form of letters and the dreaded telegram.</div><div>Today, we have email, chat rooms, and video chats.</div><div>We all watched the invasion of Iraq live, on our television sets.</div><div>We see ads on television where pregnant women are showing their husbands sonograms live from their phones.</div><div><br /></div><div>I know for me the war hasn't really effected me.</div><div>The baseball field at my school is named for a student that died over there.</div><div>A few of my former students joined the arm forces but I don't know where they are.</div><div><br /></div><div>During WW II the War took centered stage.</div><div>Today it is background.</div><div>It's rarely the first news story.</div><div><br /></div><div>During WWII, there were air raid drills and children collected tin cans for the war effort.</div><div>We have been fighting in the current wars for most of Luke's life.</div><div>He knows very little about it.</div><div>I don't even think he knows where Afghanistan is.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Today, we know that during WWII silk sticking were a luxury, letters from overseas were priceless, rubber tires were collected, women rolled bandages and everyone gathered around the radio at night to hear the latest news.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>We are at war. </div><div>We are fighting two wars.</div><div><br /></div><div>Whether you agree with that or not--it's a fact.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>And so I wonder, </div><div>what will the future write about the home front effort?</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-7639220716732732342?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-39360094679827925382010-07-17T06:37:00.000-07:002010-07-18T05:54:08.661-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M_48S5G_pXM/TDxvoDHxnFI/AAAAAAAAASk/SAoLhHuJtHk/s1600/IMG_0484.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M_48S5G_pXM/TDxvoDHxnFI/AAAAAAAAASk/SAoLhHuJtHk/s320/IMG_0484.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493388379308530770" /></a><br />When I was growing up being a Geek was a bad thing.<div>Not so much today.</div><div><br /></div><div>My students told me that being a Geek means-</div><div>" you will be rich and people will be working for you!".</div><div><br /></div><div>I thought about this.</div><div>Our friend/ neighbor is a Geek.</div><div>He is a professor-teaches PhD students--geeks.</div><div>He has lots of " fun toys".</div><div>In his living room he has a flat screen TV , X box, PS3 and Wii.</div><div>One of the games he plays on the PS3 is a driving game.</div><div>You race around famous cites and try to be the first one done.</div><div><br /></div><div>This would be fine for most people--but not this Geek.</div><div>He bought a car bucket seat, brake and gas pedals and steering wheel.</div><div>He hooked the game controls to the pedals and the steering wheel.</div><div>So now when you play, you actually drive the car.</div><div><br /></div><div>Luke thought this was BRILLANT and we should get one!</div><div><br /></div><div>But I ask you, who would buy this?</div><div>A married person with kids is not going to have this in their living.</div><div><br /></div><div>So that leaves , unmarried 20 somethings that spend their money on " Fun Toys".</div><div>AKA --Geeks!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-3936009467982792538?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-27321460296309880142010-07-16T10:37:00.000-07:002010-07-17T05:53:52.718-07:00This weekend is Mom's weekend at Maureen's camp.<div>Maureen is not at camp this year.</div><div>She is WITH members of her camp on a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">ICEP</span> trip. ( International Campers Exchange Program).</div><div>Twelve of the along with two leaders, are spending the summer in Russia and in Sweden.</div><div><br /></div><div>So needles to say, I am not attending Mom's weekend this year--sigh.</div><div><br /></div><div>I LOVED mom's weekend.</div><div>It was such a unique way to spend time with your daughter.</div><div>They are in charge.</div><div>You are a guest on their turf and the only way to make to work was so to let them show you the ropes.</div><div><br /></div><div>You sleep on tents.</div><div>Tents you set up.</div><div>You on their schedule .</div><div>Follow their lead and hang put with their mom's friends.</div><div>It's <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">wonderful</span>!</div><div><br /></div><div>It's like you get a glimpse at the world from their point of view.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am missing mom's weekend!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-2732146029630988014?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-58921036756620200442010-07-15T05:02:00.000-07:002010-07-16T03:59:53.454-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M_48S5G_pXM/TD81RV8k3uI/AAAAAAAAASs/E3TOZHaGol4/s1600/DSC_0598.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M_48S5G_pXM/TD81RV8k3uI/AAAAAAAAASs/E3TOZHaGol4/s320/DSC_0598.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494168642480561890" /></a>I didn't plan on being a soccer Mom,<div>but that's what I have become.</div><div><br /></div><div>Maureen did soccer for a few years.</div><div>She liked it, didn't Love it.</div><div>She did one season of travel and hung up her cleats.</div><div><br /></div><div>I always thought Luke would be a baseball kid.</div><div>At 18 months old he would pick up empty 2 liter bottles and swing them at tennis balls.</div><div><br /></div><div>He played Pee Wee, Prep and attended Baseball camps.</div><div><br /></div><div>But last fall we saw a change.</div><div><br /></div><div>Luke made a Travel Soccer Team.</div><div><br /></div><div>He loved it!</div><div>He worked hard at it, </div><div>and was pretty good.</div><div><br /></div><div>In October he was invited to go to a Red Sox game with his buddy.</div><div>Red Sox--his heroes.</div><div>His bedroom walls are covered in Red Sox posters.</div><div><br /></div><div>" I can't go, " Luke said when he was told about the game.</div><div>" WHAT?!", I replied.</div><div><br /></div><div>" I got a soccer game. My team is counting on me. I can't go, " he said.</div><div><br /></div><div>It was at that moment I became a Soccer Mom!</div><div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><br /><div><br /></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-5892103675662020044?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-84289459010480767542010-07-14T16:07:00.000-07:002010-07-15T04:59:31.857-07:00Maureen is overseas.<div>She spent last week in Russia.</div><div>They stayed with host <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">families</span>. </div><div><br /></div><div>When she called she mentioned that the home she was staying in didn't have kids their age. </div><div>The other kids were staying with <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">families</span> that had kids their age.</div><div><br /></div><div>Maureen is traveling with a group that consists of 8 boys and 4 girls.</div><div>When I asked her about the kids her voice changed ever so slightly.</div><div>I asked if everything was <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">ok</span>.</div><div>She said everything was fine.</div><div>And then mentioned that her host family didn't have any kids her age and the other ones did.</div><div><br /></div><div>Maureen is on <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Facebook</span>.</div><div>I am on <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Facebook</span> and we are <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">friends</span> on <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Facebook</span>.</div><div><br /></div><div>Today I noticed that a picture had been posted on her page.</div><div>It was sent from a new friend, a friend from Russia.</div><div><br /></div><div>As I looked through the pictures I noticed this new friend was female.</div><div>Most of the pictures had her with the boys.</div><div>They were hugging, giving her piggy back rides and snuggling.</div><div><br /></div><div>The girl was dressed in skin tight, strapless dresses and high heels.</div><div><br /></div><div>This is a new <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">experience</span> for Maureen.</div><div>One I had not prepare her for.</div><div>One I knew she <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">would</span> encounter.</div><div>But a tough one nevertheless.</div><div><br /></div><div>My daughter is growing up.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><div><br /></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-8428945901048076754?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-28493798051322981452010-07-13T06:14:00.000-07:002010-07-13T06:35:43.753-07:00Yesterday I had a doctor's appointment.<div>I hate going to the doctor.</div><div>I hate getting a pap smear.</div><div><br /></div><div>But I went.</div><div><br /></div><div>I checked in.</div><div>Waited about 4 minutes and was called in.</div><div><br /></div><div>This great I thought.</div><div>No waiting.</div><div><br /></div><div>The nurse did her thing, weight ( another thing I hate), height, and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">BP</span>.</div><div>She took out "the gown".</div><div>Told me to undress and put in on.</div><div>Then she left.</div><div><br /></div><div>I did what she told me.</div><div>Got up on the table and waited.</div><div><br /></div><div>And waited.</div><div>I looked around for something to read.</div><div>Nothing, only signs on the walls.</div><div><br /></div><div>Signs that did not make me feel to comfortable.</div><div><br /></div><div>Examples--Have your moles change lately?</div><div>These are some examples of moles that might be skin cancer.</div><div><br /></div><div>So here I am nude, except for "the gown" and I can see most of my moles.</div><div>I start thinking-" Is this what they always looked like? </div><div>Have they changed? </div><div><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">OMG</span> do have cancer?</div><div><br /></div><div>I stop looking and notice another sign on the wall.</div><div>This one was on a container.</div><div>"Warning--punctures from these objects can be fatal"</div><div><br /></div><div>FATAL?!!!!</div><div><br /></div><div>I notice that the container is filled with needles.</div><div><br /></div><div>Now the rational me is saying it's the AIDS thing BUT,</div><div>the little kid in me is saying--</div><div><br /></div><div>"Told you shots were bad!"</div><div><br /></div><div>That's it. </div><div>I am outta here.</div><div>I start to stand up and the doctor comes in.</div><div><br /></div><div>The exam went well--even the PAP.</div><div><br /></div><div>When she was done she asked if I had any questions.</div><div>I answered, " Why aren't there any magazines in here?"</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-2849379805132298145?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-90204512521195166002010-07-11T05:44:00.000-07:002010-07-11T06:00:17.954-07:00J and I went out on a date Saturday night.<div>We decided to leave the Happy Valley and head to the Berkshires to see a comedy show--(Dave Hill).</div><div>We took our time and wandered through the "blue highways", enjoying the mountain scenery.</div><div><br /></div><div>We arrived at our <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">destination</span> about 2 hours before the show started.</div><div>We drove around <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">looking</span> for a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">restaurant</span> that served Gluten Free food.</div><div>I asked at 4 places. </div><div>No one knew what I was talking about.</div><div><br /></div><div>We went to the place where the show was. </div><div><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">I wandered</span> into the courtyard and saw a sign that said the place closed at 6 and gave directions where you could find <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">restaurants</span>.</div><div>So we kept looking.</div><div><br /></div><div>After a half an hour we gave up. </div><div>J headed to Mickey D's and I to the local grocery store to grab a salad.</div><div><br /></div><div>The local grocery store didn't have a salad bar.</div><div>The store was pretty dirty and gross--I stepped on gum while I was in there.</div><div>I grabbed rice cakes, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">peanut butter</span> and bananas.</div><div><br /></div><div>We ate in the car, looking at the beautiful mountains.</div><div><br /></div><div>Dorothy, we are not in the Happy Valley anymore!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-9020451252119516600?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-44702575970143221472010-07-10T09:54:00.000-07:002010-07-12T09:43:30.136-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M_48S5G_pXM/TDtGJhW8w-I/AAAAAAAAASc/c7zPNbip2Q4/s1600/DSC_9959.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M_48S5G_pXM/TDtGJhW8w-I/AAAAAAAAASc/c7zPNbip2Q4/s320/DSC_9959.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493061299895845858" /></a><br />We live in the Happy Valley.<div>The home organic food and Whole Foods.</div><div><br /></div><div>For years our neighbors and friends have been encouraging us to join a CSA-</div><div>Commuinty Shared Agriculture.</div><div><br /></div><div>The way it works is you buy a share for about $500.00.</div><div>Everyweek from May until November you go to the farm and pick up your share.</div><div><br /></div><div>The produce is laid out on tables.</div><div>You walk through and pick what what is there.</div><div><br /></div><div>The first week there was mostly lettuce.</div><div>This week there was Khol Rabi, carrots ( orange and purple), zuccini, yellow squash, bok choy. cabbage and cucumbers.</div><div>Up until 3 weeks ago I heard never heard of Khol Rabi.</div><div>Now I know it's good in stir fry.</div><div><br /></div><div>J was a little skepical at first.</div><div>He was worried most of the food would end up in the compost.</div><div><br /></div><div>I figured worse case scenario we would eat more stir fry.</div><div>We started out doing just that --stir fry and salads.</div><div><br /></div><div>Now I am venturing outside the box.</div><div>Last week--homemade gazpacho and homemade coleslaw.</div><div><br /></div><div>This week I am trying tomato, cuke and melon salad. </div><div>Wish me luck!</div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-4470257597014322147?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-28056999754729780702010-07-10T04:10:00.000-07:002010-07-10T04:57:11.226-07:00I am so bad at boundaries.<div>I have a hard time.</div><div>I want to be a "nice guy".</div><div>I have trouble setting them.</div><div><br /></div><div>Lately this issue is coming up a LOT!</div><div>Like last Thursday....</div><div>It's summer. </div><div>It's hot.</div><div>We have a pool.</div><div>I am a teacher.</div><div>I am home in the summer.</div><div><br /></div><div>For the past 2 weeks Luke has been doing day camps.</div><div>Last week half day soccer camp, this week baseball camp until 3:30.</div><div>His buddy has been taking the same camps.</div><div>His mom drops off the boys and I have pick up.</div><div>I bring them back here to swim and cool off.</div><div><br /></div><div>The boys get along, which is great but it's starting to wear on me.</div><div>The first week the mom stayed one day and brought over food.</div><div>This week on Monday both parents were home.</div><div>Mom called and asked if they could bring steaks over and grill at our house.</div><div>I said no.</div><div>She came over and stayed until 7:30. I asked her at leave at 6.</div><div><br /></div><div>On Tuesday I asked her if she could watch Luke for us--we had appointment at 6 and would be home by 7:30.</div><div>She said yes. </div><div>Then she said since she was babysitting for us she would bring steaks over and grill.</div><div>She would have dinner all ready for us when we returned.</div><div>This didn't feel right but I kept my mouth shut. </div><div>I thought I was being selfish not sharing the pool and grill with them.</div><div><br /></div><div>Thursday morning.</div><div>She calls me twice , what do I have to grill.</div><div>Great she'll grill our hot dogs and hamburgers.</div><div>We will grill when I get back</div><div>What else did I have.</div><div>What time did I need her there again?</div><div>5:30 at the latest--no problem I want to swim. </div><div>I will be there <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">waaaay</span> before 5:30.</div><div>I think it's so great that you are so laid back and let us use your pool.</div><div><br /></div><div>Now I am really not <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">ok</span> with this but AGAIN don't say anything.</div><div>Luke is excited about them eating over.</div><div>I feel like they are using my house as a vacation spa.</div><div>But I keep quiet.</div><div><br /></div><div>5:00--she is not here.</div><div>5:10--she is not here.</div><div>5:20--she is here.</div><div><br /></div><div>Luke is done. </div><div>He is hot and exhausted and is done with having company around.</div><div>He is not listening and we are going 20 rounds.</div><div>He's friend is being passive aggressive.</div><div>He is not listening either and is acting like this is his house.</div><div>His mom bought him brand a new, fancy looking mask.</div><div>He won't share it with Luke.</div><div>Luke who has shared his pool, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">goggles</span> and toys with for 2 weeks.</div><div><br /></div><div>The boys are playing ball in the pool.</div><div>The ball keeps going out of pool.</div><div>His friend won't go get it.</div><div>" I'll just swim".</div><div>But when Luke gets the ball he plays with it.</div><div><br /></div><div>Luke is frustrated.</div><div>I am frustrated.</div><div>Luke is not listening.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am loosing it.</div><div><br /></div><div>It's 5:29 and she pulls into the driveway.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am yelling at Luke.</div><div>His friend is swimming in the pool, trying out his new mask.</div><div>They arrive on the deck with a cooler.</div><div><br /></div><div>" We know you don't drink but we brought Gin and Tonic for ourselves. We figure we would babysit in style. Pool, deck and grilling what could be better."</div><div>It's after 5:30.</div><div><br /></div><div>Luke is still not listening, I take him into the house to set him <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">straight</span>.</div><div>I think everyone heard me setting him straight.</div><div><br /></div><div>The dad walks into the house and says to Luke</div><div>" Let's start the grill we are hungry."</div><div><br /></div><div>They don't know how to start the grill.</div><div><br /></div><div>Now I am spinning!</div><div><br /></div><div>I start the grill.</div><div>I don't want the mom going through my stuff so I get the food.</div><div><br /></div><div>It's obvious I am mad and spinning.</div><div><br /></div><div>" We can do this", the mom says.</div><div>" No, you don't know how to use the grill. That's why I thought we were eating after I got back "I answer.</div><div>" But the boys are hungry. When did you excpet us to eat. You weren't clear in your communication, " she says.</div><div><br /></div><div>I WASN'T CLEAR!</div><div> </div><div>I start to tear up.</div><div><br /></div><div>" I am late. Luke isn't listening. I wasn't planning on having this all done now, " I say.</div><div><br /></div><div>" You knew we were coming at 5:30," she says.</div><div><br /></div><div>The dad offers to go get Chinese.</div><div>"It doesn't matter I say. The grill is going now, " I reply.</div><div><br /></div><div>We return at 7:15.</div><div>Luke spent a large amount of time going through the bushes looking for the toys they lost all week. He friend stays in the pool.</div><div>The dad took a nap.</div><div>They had all eaten and no food was ready for us.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>"This is <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">soo</span> great. What a place you have! When can we do this again?" they ask.</div><div><br /></div><div>" I'll get back to you on that, " I reply.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-2805699975472978070?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-2933111334040050092010-07-09T08:00:00.000-07:002010-07-09T09:04:20.963-07:00<div>The meaning of the word Inheritance- </div><div>a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">permanent</span> or valuable <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">possession</span> or blessing that one <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">receives</span> by a gift or without purchase.</div><div><br /></div><div>And this is what had claimed the middle son.</div><div><br /></div><div>He became paranoid and angry.</div><div>He became self <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">righteous</span> and arrogant.</div><div>All traits his father had.</div><div><br /></div><div>The middle son was convinced that there was more money out there.</div><div>He became convinced that his brother was hiding or stealing money from the estate.</div><div><br /></div><div>The brother he accused was the same <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">brother</span> who had not change the estate any money from his tireless effort.</div><div>This brother who had found tens of thousands of dollars in abandoned property.</div><div>This brother who paid for their father's funeral and headstone out of his own pocket--the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">middle</span> son contributed nothing.</div><div>This brother who had stood by him his whole life.</div><div>This brother who was his friend when he didn't have any.</div><div>This brother who gave him a place to go on holidays when he didn't have wife or anyone special to share it with.</div><div>This brother who invited him on family vacations so he wouldn't be alone.</div><div>This brother who forgave his <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">inappropriate</span> behavior.</div><div><br /></div><div>This is the brother he now called dishonest.</div><div>This is the brother he now <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">accuses</span> of hiding things.</div><div><br /></div><div>The secret has claimed it's next victim.</div><div><br /></div><div>The brothers are estranged.</div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-293311133404005009?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-20922400083483085372010-07-09T05:40:00.000-07:002010-07-09T08:35:07.022-07:00We pick up the story after the father has died and the eldest son is putting together their dad's estate.<div><br /></div><div>It takes months to put all the pieces together.</div><div>Weeks of going through garbage bags. </div><div>Endless telephone calls, emails and faxes.</div><div>Thousands of hours and many days taken off of work.</div><div><br /></div><div>The eldest son had to file years of back taxes.</div><div>Find abandon property.</div><div>Sort through all his dad's papers and possessions.</div><div><br /></div><div>During the search he found some of the answers he was looking for.</div><div>During the search he came to know and understand his father.</div><div>During the search he came to peace.</div><div><br /></div><div>The middle brother on the other, waited.</div><div>Waited for his due, what was " rightfully his".</div><div><br /></div><div>The estate neared closing</div><div>The middle brother was informed of what he had would inherit .</div><div><br /></div><div>The middle brother was not happy.</div><div>This was not his due.</div><div>This was not what he had been expecting.</div><div><br /></div><div>The secret saw it's chance.</div><div>A chance to reclaim it's position in this family.</div><div>And while the middle brother stewed in his anger,</div><div>the secret snuck in and claimed it's next victim.</div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-2092240008348308537?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-87028590846459277682010-07-07T05:47:00.000-07:002010-07-07T06:04:27.497-07:00I have been doing a lot of light reading lately.<div>I like to do that after school is out.</div><div>I pick fluffy, interesting books that don't require a lot of thinking.</div><div>Pure relaxing enjoyment.</div><div><br /></div><div>This year I seem to be reading a lot of books that have to do with food.</div><div>Example-Comfort Food by Kate Jacobs and Elin Hilderband books have a lot of food in them.</div><div><br /></div><div>This got my thinking about food.</div><div>Food has become different for me since I became Gluten Free.</div><div>Many of my old " comfort foods" I can no longer eat.</div><div>But the comfort foods contain history, memories and stories. </div><div>I wonder how I can preserve those.</div><div><br /></div><div>My dad used food to keep the memory of his mother alive.</div><div>She died when he was 15.</div><div>He had stories to go with chocolate milk, plum pudding and so on.</div><div><br /></div><div>It's hot here in the Happy Valley.</div><div>Food is not appealing.</div><div>I think back to foods I ate when I was a child when it was hot out.</div><div><br /></div><div>We had chips. </div><div>It was one of the few times we had chips in the house.</div><div>My dad said we needed to have salt so he brought home chips.</div><div>My mom called them munchies--she was trying to fit in but it always sounded funny coming from her.</div><div>We would have cold cut sandwiches on onion rolls.</div><div>My mom would make cold cuke soup.</div><div>Sometimes she made Lemonade and she would add OJ to it.</div><div><br /></div><div>My favorite was BLT's.</div><div>The first time we had them my mom wouldn't tell us what the letters stood for. </div><div>We had to guess.</div><div>By the time dinnertime had arrived we thought we were having baloney, turkey and lemonade!</div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-8702859084645927768?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-34136526572568012512010-07-01T14:19:00.000-07:002010-07-08T11:19:47.693-07:00The story continues..<div><br /></div><div>As news spread of their father's death, the phone calls began coming in.<div><br /></div><div>The Uncles asked if the sons had heard from Smith.</div><div><br /></div><div>Who was Smith they asked.</div><div><br /></div><div>You will find out they were informed.</div><div>And they did.</div><div><br /></div><div>The day after they buried their father, the Uncles took the sons to Smith's office.</div><div>A plush office with cherry wood furniture.</div><div><br /></div><div>It was in this cherry wood office that the sons were informed that their Grandmother had left them money. </div><div>The money had been been kept in a trust and their father had been living off the interest. </div><div>It was a sizable amount of money but by no means a fortune.</div><div><br /></div><div>The money was to be divided up equally between them. </div><div><br /></div><div>The middle son was gleeful and giggly.</div><div>The eldest son had questions.</div></div><div><br /></div><div>It was part of the secret that occupied their lives.</div><div>This was the root.</div><div>The family money.</div><div><br /></div><div>Now they knew how how they had.</div><div>A good sizable sum but by no means a fortune.</div><div>But they had some answers.</div><div><br /></div><div>The eldest son got busy putting the pieces together of their father's estate .</div><div>While the middle son become more entangled with the secret.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-3413652657256801251?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-237270986051793192010-07-01T12:13:00.001-07:002010-07-03T05:38:44.998-07:00We live near South Hadley.<div>I work with a woman who counseled the students from South Hadley High.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am a teacher. </div><div>I have attended Anti- Bully workshops, heard <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Barabra</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Colloroso</span> speak.</div><div>I have had bullies in my class, and I have the bullied in my class.</div><div><br /></div><div>I was a high school student.</div><div>I bullied and was bullied.</div><div><br /></div><div>My kids elementary school has a no Bully Zone.</div><div>The concept is simple.</div><div>No one bullies.</div><div>If you see or hear bullying you report it. </div><div>The person doing the bullying is counseled.</div><div>The bullying ends.</div><div><br /></div><div>This bully free zone, sounded great until this week.</div><div><br /></div><div>Luke attended a soccer day camp.</div><div>The first day another kid starting picking on him.</div><div>Luke didn't know how to handle it.</div><div><br /></div><div>We brainstormed at home strategies.</div><div>The next day the kid picked on him again.</div><div>Luke handled it better, but was still upset.</div><div><br /></div><div>A few days later, the counselor picked on him.</div><div>Luke got really upset.</div><div>" Don't they know about the Bully Free Zone?" he asked.</div><div>And then it hit me.</div><div><br /></div><div>The world isn't a bully free zone.</div><div>He will get bullied.</div><div>We all get bullied.</div><div>And though a bully free zone is a great concept, it's not realistic.</div><div><br /></div><div>What Luke needed at that moment was a bag of tricks to defuse the situation.</div><div>He had nothing.</div><div>He was totally unprepared for this <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">situation</span> and as a result was very <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">vulnerable</span>.</div><div><br /></div><div>So maybe what we need is not a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Bully</span> Free Zone, but a Bully Defense class.</div><div>That way our kids won't be defenseless.</div><div><br /></div><div>I wonder what Phoebe would think about that.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-23727098605179319?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-3618081887579572412010-07-01T10:45:00.000-07:002010-07-06T11:39:35.680-07:00<div>More about my friend's family.</div><div><br /></div>Their father was dead.<div><br /></div><div>The sons arrived at their father's home and were shocked at what they found.</div><div>The house was a complete and utter <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">disaster</span>.</div><div>Newspapers and mail were covered floor of the downstairs.</div><div>It was piled 2-3 feet high. </div><div>There was a small path that went from the kitchen to couch. </div><div><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">The rest</span> of the floor was covered.</div><div><br /></div><div>The sons began to throw the mail into trash bags</div><div>Fifteen green garage bags of mail.</div><div>Piles upon piles of unopened mail.</div><div>Some dating back in the 1980's.</div><div><br /></div><div>Why? Why was all this mail not opened?</div><div><br /></div><div>The mail contained bank and brokerage account statements.</div><div>It too was not opened.</div><div><br /></div><div>The son looked through back files.</div><div>Taxes never been filed or paid.</div><div>Their father had never signed up for medicare or social security.</div><div><br /></div><div>Why?</div><div><br /></div><div>The question became WHY.</div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-361808188757957241?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-65993199446075057182010-07-01T09:52:00.000-07:002010-07-02T09:43:34.081-07:00I know a family that had a secret.<div>Their secret had to do with money.</div><div>The dad hardly ever work and the mom was a stay at home mom.</div><div>Because their dad didn't work, one would assume that they didn't have money.</div><div>But they did.</div><div>They won't filthy rich, but well off. Nice house, clothes and the presents under the Christmas tree filled half a room.</div><div><br /></div><div>The kids knew there was money in the family. Their Grandmother was wealthy. She lived in a huge house on waterfront property. </div><div><br /></div><div>The kids knew their great Grandfather was RICH. </div><div>They had heard stories at family gatherings. They saw how their cousins lived. They had huge houses, private houses, fancy cars and vacation houses.</div><div>They often wondered what happened to <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">their</span> fancy cars and vacation homes.</div><div><br /></div><div>Their mother knew her husband was wealthy but never knew how much money he had. </div><div>He refused to tell her. </div><div>It was a secret.</div><div><br /></div><div>Their dad grew up with maids, gardeners and attended private schools.</div><div>But if you said he was rich, he would get upset and say no.</div><div>Money was not discussed, it was a secret.</div><div><br /></div><div>This money secret started to surface throughout their lives. </div><div>It came up while <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">they</span> filled out loans for colleges. </div><div>It came up when the parents divorced. </div><div>And still it remained a secret. </div><div>But now the secret had begun to claim the kids lives.</div><div><br /></div><div>Not long after the eldest son got married, their Grandmother passed away. </div><div>The entire family gathered for the massive, expensive funeral.</div><div>Three hours after the reception had ended, the children of the deceased gathered for the reading of the will.</div><div>The aunts, uncles and their father( no spouses or children) went into a room for what seemed like hours.</div><div>The children of the family had no idea what to except but the cousins informed them that their dad should inherit a lot of money and some of would go to them after their dad died. It was called a skip a generation will.</div><div><br /></div><div>The aunts, uncles and father emerged, serious and quiet. When the sons asked what had happened they were told it was none of their business. </div><div><br /></div><div>And so their father continued on with his life.</div><div>He lived as a bachelor and rented a townhouse apartment.</div><div>He would loan money to his sons <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">occasionally</span> to help with a down payment or car loan. </div><div>He traveled little, only to visit family and still would not discuss money with his sons.</div><div>Life for him simple and not extravagant.</div><div><br /></div><div>Their mother, now remarried, would tell her sons that <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">their</span> father was rich and they should be getting money from him. She urged them to find out information on his finances. They tried a few times but no information was ever given.</div><div><br /></div><div>Life continued on this way until they got a call from the police. Their father had had a heart attack and was dead.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-6599319944607505718?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-15995843668796378612010-07-01T05:07:00.000-07:002010-07-01T05:48:25.495-07:00Secrets are disease infested.<div>The start are small and maybe even innocent but then they take on a life of their own and grow.</div><div><br /></div><div>Secrets are like vines that begin climb and slowly wind around are lives and very <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">existence</span> and before we know it they are a part of our lives.</div><div>They are our life story.</div><div>They are a part of us.</div><div><br /></div><div>Sometimes these secrets direct our lives and make decisions.</div><div>And when secrets are at there worse they <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">influence</span> decisions we make.</div><div>Even when we may not know what the secret is or was.</div><div>We just know that there was one. </div><div><br /></div><div>I have secrets in my past. </div><div>I battle them daily. </div><div>Trying hard not to let them <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">dictate</span> my choices from today.</div><div>It's hard, it's a daily battle.</div><div>But it's worth it.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am not willing to pay the price of those secrets anymore.</div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-1599584366879637861?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-75550045838549173962010-06-29T05:40:00.000-07:002010-06-29T05:52:30.107-07:00I am trying to write. <div>Correction, I am writing.</div><div><br /></div><div>I started this blog 2 years ago, wrote for a year and then stopped.</div><div><br /></div><div>Started writing about a dream I had 9 years ago and stopped. </div><div>I stopped last time because I let someone else opinion guide me.</div><div>I didn't trust myself. </div><div>Listen to him and not myself.</div><div>Hard lesson!</div><div><br /></div><div>Then this spring I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">read</span> Anne Lamont's Bird by Bird.</div><div><br /></div><div>I have made a commitment to write each day.</div><div>I am also going to write a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">letter</span> to one of my characters. I am hoping that will have "unstuck" me.</div><div><br /></div><div>Wish me luck!</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-7555004583854917396?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-71876796914392055272010-06-28T06:15:00.000-07:002010-06-29T05:51:46.286-07:00<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Momo</span> left for camp yesterday. She has gone to camp before, for a month at a time.<div>But this time it was different. <div><div>She is going on a leadership program to Russia and Sweden. She will be gone for 5 1/2 weeks.<div><br /></div><div>This time it's different because she spreading her wings and I am not there to guide her. </div><div>This time it's different because she going to worlds I have never seen.</div><div>This time it is <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">different</span> because she is <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">experiencing</span> things I will never <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">experience</span>.</div><div><br /></div><div>Parenting is such a strange and complicated things. They place this beautiful being in your arms and from that day forward your job is to prepare them to leave you.</div><div><br /></div><div>Your job to help them discover themselves, their talents. <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">their</span> riches.</div><div>And once they have made these wonderful discoveries their job is to go out in the world and share them with others.</div><div><br /></div><div>Allowing them and trusting them to do these is one of the hardest discoveries I have had to make.</div></div></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-7187679691439205527?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-10293528625397848982009-06-30T05:47:00.000-07:002009-06-30T05:51:10.170-07:00I started to clean the guest room AGAIN!<div><br /></div><div>It is hard because I still don't know what is "safe" to throw out.</div><div><br /></div><div>We have a Ton of Hubby's dad stuff and the estate is not settled yet.</div><div><br /></div><div>But I started.</div><div>I stacked all the boxes.</div><div><br /></div><div>And after asking for guidance, I started going through the boxes.</div><div><br /></div><div>It's not done But you can walk through the room and see the floor!</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-1029352862539784898?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-4590603755782222852009-06-29T08:49:00.000-07:002009-06-29T09:04:21.086-07:00We dropped Daughter off at camp yesterday. <div>She will be gone for a month.</div><div><br /></div><div>She has been to this camp before--this is her 4th summer.</div><div><br /></div><div>She wasn't nervous--she was excited.</div><div>She wanted to do all the packing herself and got very annoyed when I "doubled checked " on things.</div><div><br /></div><div>Within a few minutes of arriving , the car was unpacked and she started to settle in.</div><div>I put things away and she move them.</div><div><br /></div><div>I stepped back, and watched other moms having the same experience. </div><div><br /></div><div>We ( the moms ) were doing our things, getting them settled and comfortable while...</div><div>the daughters we letting us know that this is "their" world.</div><div>Moms are not a part of this world.</div><div>This is a world where girls learn to be independent, explore and grow without the guidance of moms.</div><div><br /></div><div>For moms, this where we step back, and trust that we have done a good job.</div><div>This is where moms stop being a mom for a month.</div><div><br /></div><div>After about a half an hour she was unpacked and was off. </div><div>She was going from cabin to cabin, looking for friends, hugging laughing, involved.</div><div>I sat in the distance and watched.</div><div><br /></div><div>It was clear I was no longer needed.</div><div>And so with a very quick hug I left her to her world.</div><div>A world that I am not a part of.</div><div><br /></div><div>As we drove away I felt proud, happy and sad.</div><div>Proud that she was so independent.</div><div>Happy she was sooo happy and excited.</div><div>And sad that that I was no longer needed--</div><div><br /></div><div>well part of me is proud that she she didn't need me.....</div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-459060375578222285?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-17353799669616043992009-06-05T02:53:00.000-07:002009-06-05T02:58:59.544-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M_48S5G_pXM/SijsSActdkI/AAAAAAAAAQE/q_fnex4QtSg/s1600-h/IMG_0492.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M_48S5G_pXM/SijsSActdkI/AAAAAAAAAQE/q_fnex4QtSg/s320/IMG_0492.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343780751977313858" /></a><br />Tonight is graduation at my school.<div><br /></div><div>The kids I had as 7th graders my first year teaching at this school are graduating.</div><div>They have asked me to come.</div><div><br /></div><div>They came to me reading below a 4th grade level and a string of emotional issues.</div><div><br /></div><div>All of them are graduating.</div><div>All but 2 are going to college.</div><div><br /></div><div>It is so rewarding to see that you have helped someone.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am not sure I am going to get though tonight without shedding a few tears.</div><div><br /></div><div>Congrats class of 2009!!</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-1735379966961604399?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-16316353419494048512009-05-24T10:58:00.001-07:002009-05-24T11:19:43.025-07:00<div>Before last year events were defined by by happy events-birthdays, anniversaries.</div><div>Now it defined by the "last time".</div><div><br /></div><div>The Sunday morning of Memorial Day weekend 2008--</div><div>Hubby and I sat out and had our morning coffee on the deck.</div><div>We talked about Joe--his health was not good.</div><div>It looked like he had a blood clot in his leg.</div><div><br /></div><div>He would need help after the surgery and we had a BIG discussion about what that would entail.</div><div><br /></div><div>Hubby called Joe--he sounded scared.</div><div>Hubby explained we had been through this with his mom and we were there to help.</div><div>He needed to move closer and he needed to let us in -let us help.</div><div><br /></div><div>Joe listened and agreed.</div><div>Once he got through this hurtle he would come out here and look for places to live out here.</div><div>They hung up.</div><div>Hubby looked relieved and thought the call went really well.</div><div><br /></div><div>Hubby said Joe was in pain and having trouble walking.</div><div><br /></div><div>I called Joe back.</div><div>Did he need anything? Did he need food? I could run down some food.</div><div><br /></div><div>No he said he was fine--really. He had steak, and veggies.</div><div>He sounded pleased that I called back.</div><div>He said he had a good talk with Hubby and he loved us.</div><div><br /></div><div>Two days later, I called to tell him Daughter would be playing in a concert near him.</div><div>He said he would go if he felt up to it.</div><div>He thanked me for thinking of him.</div><div>He enjoyed watching Daughter play the violin.</div><div><br /></div><div>He had a doctor's appointment the next day.</div><div>Hubby talked to him.</div><div>Things sounded <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">ok</span>--a clot--surgery.</div><div>The heart was <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">ok</span>.</div><div><br /></div><div>The next day Hubby called--no answer.</div><div>Next day Hubby called no answer.</div><div><br /></div><div>Hubby called me at work.</div><div>I can't get hold of Dad--</div><div><br /></div><div>I thought he was having second thoughts about the phone call and " good talk they had".</div><div><br /></div><div>" Do a well call", I said.</div><div>" I can't--will you?", Hubby said.</div><div>" Sure--if he going to be mad have him mad at me", I said.</div><div><br /></div><div>I called the police at lunch and prepare for Joe to be mad at me.</div><div>Half hour later--no call back.</div><div>Police said they were still checking things out- could they have a number where I was.</div><div>My stomach lurched--this what happen with Steven.</div><div><br /></div><div>20 minutes later my principal arrived. </div><div> Sh---, Sh--, I yelled.</div><div><br /></div><div>How can I tell Hubby his dad is dead now too!</div><div><br /></div><div>I called Hubby--he said he had a feeling.</div><div>I called back the police and started to make arrangements.</div><div><br /></div><div>And then I went home to tell my children that Papa had died.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-1631635341949404851?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-46236229879287998652009-05-21T06:40:00.000-07:002009-05-21T06:46:45.747-07:00Five days --gluten free.<br /><br />I am feeling better!<br />My hives are gone.<br />My stomach is flatter. ( I fit into pants I didn't fit into in the fall)<br /><br />I am more present.<br />I am happier.<br />I am playful--awake.<br />I like my family!<br /><br />The eating part isn't so bad.<br />A day at a time.<br />I am eating lots of fruits and veggies.<br /><br />I am learning to eat differently --and so far the kids are ok with that.<br /><br />Last night dinner---<br />Hamburger patty( homemade) covered with mayo, tomatoes and avacado.<br />Homemade french fries ( sliced up potatoes, olive oil, salt roasted in the oven)<br />Watermelon.<br /><br />All was eaten.<br />All were happy!<br /><br />So far so good!<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-4623622987928799865?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-78926967659745215702009-05-20T04:31:00.000-07:002009-05-20T04:33:07.416-07:00So yesterday we awoke to 31 degrees.<br />Today's high--80 degrees.<br />Tomorrow--- 90 --YEP 90!<br /><br />Don't you just love the spring!<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-7892696765974521570?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-28613794053576667152009-05-19T03:02:00.000-07:002009-05-19T03:03:15.782-07:00Frost warnings last nigh.<div>32 degrees this morning.</div><div><br /></div><div>HELLO-</div><div>It May 19th!!</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-2861379405357666715?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-26100263837233475292009-05-16T09:45:00.000-07:002009-05-16T09:51:29.677-07:00Woke up yesterday feeling pretty good!<div><br /></div><div>Took a shower--grabbed a cup of coffee.</div><div><br /></div><div>Drove to work--got another cup of coffee.</div><div><br /></div><div>Itchy reappear.</div><div>My arms have hive. My feet itch. My stomach itches and my legs start swelling!</div><div><br /></div><div>My stomach is upset, I am bloated and I have a headache!</div><div><br /></div><div>What...how...???!!!!</div><div>I ate eggs and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">asparagus</span> for dinner?</div><div>Yogurt for breakfast!</div><div><br /></div><div>Go on line --start researching.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am lactose intolerant--I use non dairy creamer.</div><div>Non dairy creamer has gluten--who knew? It's not bread!</div><div><br /></div><div>Back to square one all over 2 cups of coffee!!!</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-2610026383723347529?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-65814744385090397172009-05-14T14:18:00.000-07:002009-05-14T14:36:07.069-07:00It started about 10 days ago. My feet itched. I looked at them they were covered in bumps.<div>Hmmm I thought.</div><div><br /></div><div>The next day my legs itched. They had bumps.</div><div><br /></div><div>I asked my friends at work. Poison Ivy they said. </div><div><br /></div><div>I bought cream. Smothered my legs with it. Took Benedryl.</div><div><br /></div><div>The next day more on my legs.</div><div>The day after my arms.</div><div><br /></div><div>Soon the top of my legs were rough, raw , itchy, swelling and hot.</div><div>You could feel the heat of my skin through my pants.</div><div><br /></div><div>Monday I went to the doctor--a week after the first scratch.</div><div>Any changes in shampoo, detergent, cream? Nope.</div><div>Any changes in diet?</div><div>Well I did a "mini cleanse" ( very Happy Valley). I was feeling sluggish bloated so I gave up flour and sugar for 3 weeks. </div><div>The bumps appeared 1 day after I started eating bread.</div><div><br /></div><div>Doctor--" I thought that looked like celiac!"</div><div><br /></div><div>Celiac-your body can't process glutton.</div><div>Glutton is in four, wheat, barley, rye, .... everything!</div><div><br /></div><div>Stop eating it. Take a blood test.</div><div>Blood results back in 2 weeks.</div><div><br /></div><div>They gave me meds.</div><div>I expected to feel well.</div><div>I felt better but not well.</div><div><br /></div><div>I still have the chills, raw skin, swelling, welts, hives, and heat.</div><div>Whenever I get warm they reappear, stronger than before.</div><div>They have stopped spreading--they are now my torso.</div><div><br /></div><div>It's hard to sleep. I get chilled. Cover up with a blanket. I get warm. I get welts. I itch.</div><div><br /></div><div>And so it goes.....</div><div><br /></div><div>I haven't even begun to think about what life will be like without flour......</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-6581474438509039717?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-8287303673424402362009-05-05T15:09:00.000-07:002009-05-07T03:10:00.556-07:00It's been a little over 6 months since ML died.<div>Nine months since Bruce died.</div><div>Almost a year since Joe died and over a year since Steve died.</div><div><br /></div><div>We went away as a family for a week.</div><div>We went away as a couple for a weekend.</div><div><br /></div><div>I exhaled....</div><div>Bud always says don't exhale.</div><div>Bud's brother called this morning.</div><div>Bud's nephew died.</div><div>He died of an overdose.</div><div><br /></div><div>I knew his nephew--but not well.</div><div><br /></div><div>Once again I heard the pain, anger and sadness in Bud's voice.</div><div>I was catapulted back to the previous losses.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am beginning to wonder if people are trying to exit the planet.</div><div>Several religions talk about a second coming in 2012.</div><div>Is what coming so bad that so many people are leaving now?</div><div>There doesn't seem to be any rhyme or reason.</div><div><br /></div><div>ML was sick for a long time, </div><div>Joe dropped dead, </div><div>nephew was 25, </div><div>Bruce 54--cancer of the lover--hadn't had a drink in 24 years!!</div><div><br /></div><div>It makes you wonder.........</div><div>What exactly is God's plan......</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-828730367342440236?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-75676391139362031262009-05-05T15:04:00.000-07:002009-05-05T15:09:09.704-07:00I am allergic to pollen, cat hair, dog hair, wool and milk.<div><br /></div><div>I am ok most of the time--but in early spring I am a mess!</div><div>Running nose, watery eyes, itchy eyes,and the roof of my mouth gets itchy too.</div><div><br /></div><div>I try to ignore it.</div><div>But after awhile I can't stand it anymore and reach for allergy medicine.</div><div><br /></div><div>I hate allergy medicine.</div><div>I don't know what it does but whenever I take some, I can't stop eating!!!</div><div>I become a vacuum and just inhale.</div><div>I don't feel full--just hungry!!!!</div><div><br /></div><div>YUCK!!!!</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-7567639113936203126?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-60229818375525021902009-05-01T10:32:00.000-07:002009-05-01T10:36:53.499-07:00Find a place for Son to stay for the weekend--check<div>Find a place for Daughter to stay for the weekend--check</div><div>Find someone to watch the dogs--check</div><div>Find someone to get Daughter to choir on Saturday--check</div><div>Find someone to drop Daughter off at her friend's house--check</div><div><br /></div><div>Take first exam for on line course--check ( got 100)</div><div>Take second exam for on line course--check ( another 100)</div><div><br /></div><div>Do the wash--check</div><div>Pack Son--check</div><div>Pack Daughter--check</div><div>Pack Hubby-- check</div><div>Pack self--check</div><div><br /></div><div>Pay bills--check</div><div>Post office--check</div><div><br /></div><div>Clean house--check</div><div><br /></div><div>Check, check , check</div><div><br /></div><div>Cape Cod here we come!!!!!</div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-6022981837552502190?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-10913591370764678402009-04-28T16:45:00.000-07:002009-04-29T02:36:09.978-07:00I would love to be able to say that all the teachers I work with treat students with special needs fairly--but I can't.<div><br /></div><div>There is a core group of teachers that won't make modifications and won't teach to this population.</div><div><br /></div><div>A friend of mine teaches the students with emotional disabilities.</div><div>He teaches them skills and strategies and slowly mainstreams them back out into regular ed.</div><div>He works with the teachers and provides them with help and guidance.</div><div><br /></div><div>There is one teacher who refuses to help these students.</div><div>This teachers complains and shames these students.</div><div><br /></div><div>My friend had had enough and called her on it.</div><div>He went to the administration and force her to stop discriminating.</div><div>She wasn't happy and said she wasn't done.</div><div><br /></div><div>She is well connected in the town my friend lives in.</div><div>For the past 4 years he has coached his son's baseball team.</div><div>Last year they went to the finals.</div><div><br /></div><div>This teacher called the head of the town rec department and blocked him coaching this year.</div><div><br /></div><div>Can you believe how petty people can be?</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-1091359137076467840?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-84019699381994687132009-04-26T12:32:00.001-07:002009-04-28T12:49:36.556-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M_48S5G_pXM/SfYouGgFpEI/AAAAAAAAAP8/Vquz74ppgGI/s1600-h/IMG_0469_2.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M_48S5G_pXM/SfYouGgFpEI/AAAAAAAAAP8/Vquz74ppgGI/s320/IMG_0469_2.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329491981523854402" /></a><br />We took the kids to DC last week.<div>The weather was nice and we had a good time.</div><div>We saw Dorothy's Ruby slippers, The Capital, The White House, the monuments, and the zoo.</div><div><br /></div><div>The zoo was the only disappointment.</div><div><br /></div><div>While at the capital we sat in the Galley seats. The kids were excited to see our Senator. I was excited because I knew what they were discussing.</div><div><br /></div><div>While at the Jefferson monument, we saw Marine 1 and it 3 escorts flew over--very cool.</div><div><br /></div><div>The Arlington cemetery was humbling. The story of Robert E. Lee's house was mind blowing.</div><div>The government basically stole it from him.</div><div><br /></div><div>A good time was had by all.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-8401969938199468713?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-34812589493606439032009-04-16T01:19:00.000-07:002009-04-16T02:39:59.084-07:00<div>I have noticed an increase of " <em>hugging" </em>among the students in my school.</div><br /><div>Correction--among the <strong>middle <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">schoolers</span>.</strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong> </div><br /><div>They hug when they greet each other. </div><br /><div>They hug when they say Good Bye.</div><br /><div>They run after each other to give hugs.</div><br /><div> </div><br /><div>It is not all the students--it is girls.</div><br /><div> </div><br /><div>Girls hug girls, girls hug boys.</div><br /><div>I have not seen boys hugging boys--they high five or bump each other.</div><br /><div> </div><br /><div>Sometimes girls keep hugging as they walk down the hall. Kindof a hug walk thing.</div><br /><div> </div><br /><div>When a girl and a guy are " going out together" they hold hands. They don't hug.</div><br /><div>Sometimes a girl will drop the hand of her " boyfriend" to hug a friend and then resume hand holding.</div><br /><div> </div><br /><div>I thought this was just happening at my school, but I saw it at Daughter's school too.</div><br /><div> </div><br /><div>Don't get me wrong--I don't mind it--(Actually, I think it kindof sweet)</div><br /><div>I am just wondering when it started being the norm.</div><br /><div> </div><br /><div> </div><br /><div> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-3481258949360643903?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-47363679007121443902009-04-14T14:01:00.000-07:002009-04-15T03:11:46.399-07:00Rainy Day in May made a list of the things she did on one day.<div>I thought I'd give it a try!</div><div>I am going to use Monday because this morning was not typical!</div><div><br /></div><div>On Monday I:</div><div>Got up</div><div>Took out the dogs</div><div>Feed the dogs</div><div>Made coffee</div><div>Checked emails and posted blog( written the night before)</div><div>Took a shower</div><div>Drank coffee</div><div>Got Daughter up</div><div>Got dressed</div><div>Drank more coffee</div><div>Got Son's snack ready</div><div>Drank coffee</div><div>Woke up hubby and got his coffee</div><div>Drank coffee</div><div>Dropped car off at garage to have brakes fixed</div><div>Meet Mel there and we drove into work together</div><div>Bought Mel a coffee as a Thank you for driving me in</div><div>Hubby called-Son sick --he will stay home with him</div><div>Arrived at school</div><div>Meet with first student--video taped lessons for class</div><div>Went to elementary school for a transition meeting</div><div>Got upset at the end of meeting--sped teacher there doesn't know what she is talking about</div><div>Went back to school-</div><div>Dropped off meeting notes</div><div>Back to classroom</div><div>Three more meetings with teachers about transition meeting</div><div>Hubby called I have to be late tomorrow he has a conference call China at 7am</div><div>Taught 1 more classes</div><div>Lunch</div><div>Taught 2 more classes</div><div>Made arrangements for students in the am</div><div>Prep for classes tomorrow</div><div>Road home with Mel</div><div>Walked in the door </div><div>Hubby hands a list of things to find for the taxes</div><div>Garage called</div><div>Hubby takes me to get car--he has to the office to get ready for conference call</div><div>Dishes</div><div>Found the things on Hubby's list</div><div>Check homework</div><div>Dinner</div><div>Put away 1/ the laundry</div><div>Made 2 phone calls</div><div>Walk dogs</div><div>Comb out Daughters hair</div><div>Watch TV--Chuck--with family</div><div>Tuck kids in</div><div>Read for 10 minutes</div><div>Fall asleep</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-4736367900712144390?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-88564334202075168362009-04-13T15:36:00.000-07:002009-04-14T03:02:43.477-07:00Spring is starting to arrive in the Happy Valley.<div><br /></div><div>Temps during the day are reaching 50's this week.</div><div>The Robins have returned.</div><div>The trees have buds. </div><div>It's lighter in the morning.</div><div><br /></div><div>And the daffodils are Waking up!</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-8856433420207516836?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-17393631337271977432009-04-09T13:20:00.000-07:002009-04-10T02:54:34.025-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M_48S5G_pXM/Sd5fGtRkmgI/AAAAAAAAAP0/QoAAkAQmG0g/s1600-h/Maureen+hunts+for+eggs.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M_48S5G_pXM/Sd5fGtRkmgI/AAAAAAAAAP0/QoAAkAQmG0g/s320/Maureen+hunts+for+eggs.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322796378435656194" /></a><br />We been through Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years and some birthdays so..<div>Why am I having such a hard time with Easter?</div><div><br /></div><div>Easter was the first holiday I spent with Hubby's family after we got engaged.</div><div>ML and I went shopping for Easter outfits. </div><div>I brought tulips--she hated Easter Lillies.</div><div>I helped with dinner and for the first time felt like I was part of the family.</div><div><br /></div><div>Traditions were big with ML.</div><div>She had several for Easter.</div><div><br /></div><div>It was at her her house that the ham dinner with fresh asparagus was served.</div><div>When we lived in the Eastern part of the state we would spend Easter weekend at her house.</div><div><br /></div><div>The kids would wake up Easter morning to a jellybean trail that lead them to their Easter Baskets.</div><div>There would be egg hunts in her backyard.</div><div>Every year she would find at least one still hidden when she did the fall clean up.</div><div><br /></div><div>Hubby's and Mark's birthdays are around Easter so she always including a birthday cake as part of the celebration.</div><div><br /></div><div>This Easter we are having dinner at Mark's house.</div><div>I am bringing dessert.</div><div>I mention birthday cake and Mary's response was</div><div>" Why would we have birthday cake at Easter?"</div><div><br /></div><div>I know we have to move now but I am having a hard time with this one.</div><div>I want a little of ML's traditions .</div><div><br /></div><div>I thought about doing a jellybean trail but I am no sure that Freckles won't eat them.</div><div><br /></div><div>Hmmmmm...</div><div><br /></div><div>Who would have thought that Easter would be this difficult?</div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-1739363133727197743?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-73656005953180848952009-04-07T06:57:00.000-07:002009-04-07T07:05:41.903-07:00Daughter usually gets home from school before I do.<br />She is old enough to be home by herself and she is responsible.<br /><br />Yesterday I opened the door and there was Daughter sitting on the floor-starring back at me with a VERY GUILTY look on her face.<br /><br />Thoughts went through my head--"Oh, what is this about?"<br /><br />" I know I am suspose to be doing my homework but I HAVE find out how this book ends!"<br />"I will start my homework as soon as I finish--Ionly have 20 pages left."<br /><br />Finish reading a book--she was apologizing for reading a book instead of doing her homework!<br /><br />She is such a good kid!<br /><br />FYI-The book was The Host by Stephanie Meyer ( Twight author)<br />She said the book took a little while to get into and then she couldn't put it down.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-7365600595318084895?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-6523218236581327932009-04-01T01:00:00.000-07:002009-04-01T05:24:32.804-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M_48S5G_pXM/SdKAfH1rgVI/AAAAAAAAAPs/Cwl6rMCRVZo/s1600-h/CCI00012_3.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319455382046474578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 242px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M_48S5G_pXM/SdKAfH1rgVI/AAAAAAAAAPs/Cwl6rMCRVZo/s320/CCI00012_3.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />I haven't been blogging. <div>I have written a few but I haven't posted them.</div><div><br /></div><div>I have been waiting for today.</div><div>It could see it, feel it, dread it.</div><div>It kept marching on and I knew it would get here.</div><div>I knew it wouldn't stop. I just waited.</div><div><br /></div><div>Today is Hubby's birthday. </div><div>I could write about that--but I can't.</div><div><br /></div><div>Today is April Fool's Day--I could write about that--but there in nothing funny about today.</div><div><br /></div><div>April first will forever be changed in my mind and heart.</div><div><br /></div><div>One year ago, at 2:20 am ( will technically it was April 2nd) the phone rang.</div><div><br /></div><div>I usually don't answer it , but I did.</div><div><br /></div><div>It was Hubby's brother--Steven.</div><div>" Oh, Hi C . Is J there?"</div><div>" Steven it's 2:30 in the morning. We have to work tomorrow!", I replied.</div><div>Silence.</div><div>" Good bye" he said.</div><div>And then he hung up.</div><div><br /></div><div>I went back to bed.</div><div>I lay there</div><div><b><i>Good bye. </i></b></div><div>Steven never says <b><i>good bye.</i></b></div><div><br /></div><div>The next morning Hubby had 4 text messages from Steven.</div><div>They didn't make sense.</div><div><br /></div><div>I checked my emails-</div><div>Jules emailed to say Steve was acting up again and they had a rough night.</div><div>Steve had called her several times. </div><div>He was yelling and ranting.</div><div><br /></div><div>Later we heard that two of Steve's friends received weird text messages from Steve.</div><div>Steve also called his mom around 11 and was told she was asleep.</div><div><br /></div><div>He was suppose to meet Jules at 1 for an appointment. </div><div>He no showed.</div><div><br /></div><div>Jules called his cell several times. </div><div>No answer.</div><div><br /></div><div>Silence all day.</div><div><br /></div><div>The next day, the same thing -- <b>silence.</b></div><div><br /></div><div>On the third day Jules drove by his house.</div><div>His car was there.</div><div>She called the police. </div><div>They did a well check.</div><div><br /></div><div>But all was not well.</div><div><br /></div><div>Steven had killed himself.</div><div>He had been dead for several days.</div><div><br /></div><div>The was April 4th-Jay's brother Mark's birthday.</div><div><br /></div><div>And so started the Roller Coaster ride.</div><div>Within SIX months only 1 brother ( Mark) would be still be alive from Hubby's family.</div><div><br /></div><div>By all accounts I was the last one to speak to Steven--I think about that more than I care admit.</div><div><br /></div><div>I feel like we didn't have a chance to mourn Steven. </div><div>That even though it was been a year--</div><div>---<b><i>a whole year-</i></b>-</div><div>We didn't get a chance to truly experience a year without Steven because the loss of Joe, Gena and Bruce, got in the way.</div><div><br /></div><div>And so I sit.</div><div>I brace myself.</div><div>Will we get a chance to truly mourn Steven or will something else get in the way--I wonder.</div><div><br /></div><div>I feel cheated.</div><div>I feel like I wasn't given a chance to "properly" experience the "firsts" without Steven because there wasn't just a hole. The hole grew and it had become a cave.</div><div>A cave full of loss.</div><div><br /></div><div>Even now, I can't seem to separate his loss from all the others.</div><div><br /></div><div>And so it is here.</div><div>The anniversary of Steven's death.</div><div>The anniversary of the last time I heard his voice.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>And... it's Hubby's birthday.......</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-652321823658132793?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-28492652795067137502009-03-27T09:30:00.000-07:002009-03-27T02:57:53.638-07:00<div>Writing is hard.</div><br /><div>It's personal.</div><br /><div>It is hard to know when you have said enough and when you need more.</div><br /><div> </div><br /><div>We have been working on writing in school.</div><br /><div>Next week the 7th graders will have to write a long compostion for the State wide testing.</div><br /><div> </div><br /><div>I have been trying to get them to relax.</div><br /><div>I have been trying to let them see and hear that others struggle with writing too.</div><br /><div> </div><br /><div>I tell them my struggles.</div><br /><div>I tell of I got up at 4 am every week day morning for a year so I could work on my thesis.</div><br /><div> </div><br /><div>I tell them if I could write for them, I would But the only way to get better at writing is to write.</div><br /><div> </div><br /><div>They are starting to relax.</div><br /><div>They are starting to let others help them and not take it personally.</div><br /><div> </div><br /><div>They becoming writers!</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-2849265279506713750?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-54469443336533150702009-03-26T05:06:00.000-07:002009-03-26T05:14:42.083-07:00I exited and there he was.<br />Tall, dark handsome.<br />He was leaning against the pole.<br />His blue shirt , jeans and leather coat look casual yet sexy.<br /><br />His eyes met mine.<br />He smiled a slightly crooked smile that lit up his eyes.<br />He nodded and I was drawn to him.<br /><br />I walked over, eyes locked on his.<br />I was sweaty and wearing workout clothes but I didn't care.<br />I felt tingly and wanted to be near him.<br />I wanted to inhale him, embrace him.<br /><br />I felt light and giddy.<br /><br />As I approached he leaned over and kissed me.<br />My knees got weak.<br />I closed my eyes and inhaled.<br /><br />When I eyes opened there he was--<br />Hubby.<br />After 20 years he can still make me weak in the knees!<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-5446944333653315070?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-12950784724673493772009-03-25T12:29:00.000-07:002009-03-25T03:05:38.027-07:00Buried underneath of the piles of stuff from Hubby's dad house is where I found them.<div>A stack of letters tied up with a ribbon.</div><div><br /></div><div>They were letters written between Hubby's mom (ML) and dad ( Joe) before they got married.</div><div><br /></div><div>ML had been engaged to another man--Bud--long story another blog.</div><div>While visiting her sister in Ohio she met Joe and by the time she left -6 short weeks later she was engaged to him.</div><div><br /></div><div>The letters are amazing. </div><div><br /></div><div>Even way back then you could see the train wreck. </div><div><br /></div><div>She writes about being worried someone will snatch him up because he is such a catch.</div><div>He writes that he doesn't want to know about her friends. She should be concentrating on making life for them and deciding how to decorate their house.</div><div>She is quitting school but her parents want her to finish college before she gets married.</div><div>She wants to get married and fix him. Make him the best man he can be!</div><div><br /></div><div>I have soo many questions!</div><div><br /></div><div>Is this what it was like in 1962?</div><div>Woman got married and devoted their lives to their husbands?</div><div>When did the switch happen?</div><div>Is this switch in their relationship what cause them to split--( ML ended up being the bread winner and Joe hardly worked)</div><div><br /></div><div>ML writes that she's stupid and moody. And then asks for forgiveness !</div><div>I would not use those two words to describe her at all!</div><div>Why does she think she is that way and WHY would she tell Joe that?</div><div><br /></div><div>I have sooo many questions .</div><div><br /></div><div>By the time I met them, their marriage was doomed.</div><div>They divorced the year we got married. </div><div>Not a nice divorce. </div><div>Both were bitter.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>What was really strange--there was no mention of kissing or sex!</div><div>No mention of longing to be held, touched or caressed.</div><div>It was all about the outside stuff--none of the inside.</div><div><br /></div><div>Sad ...very sad..........</div><div><br /></div><div>It is no wonder they got divorced!</div><div>It sad so sad.</div><div>And the saddest part is I can't ask either of them about it.</div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-1295078472467349377?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-81780179840464445662009-03-23T14:58:00.000-07:002009-03-24T03:30:04.393-07:00Freckles is chewing EVERYTHING!<div><br /></div><div>When she is a puppy and she should but...</div><div>really look at the list></div><div>Son's sneakers</div><div>Hubby's handsome ( work) shoes</div><div>Hubby's boots</div><div>Hubby's head phones</div><div>Hubby's other pair of handsome shoes</div><div>Still another pair of Hubby's shoes</div><div>3 tuperware bowls</div><div>3 books</div><div>1 school book of Daughter's</div><div>5 dishrags</div><div>6 pairs of Hubby's socks</div><div><br /></div><div>( did you notice that Hubby had a lot on this list--guess who doesn't keep his shoes in the hallway?)</div><div><br /></div><div>Oh By the way--susan you can stop laughing now!</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-8178017984046444566?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-27148284106293456542009-03-20T12:26:00.000-07:002009-03-23T02:40:07.407-07:00I enjoy being a working mom.<div>I love my job.</div><div>I feel like I make a difference.</div><div><br /></div><div>I have been blessed with wonderful people who look after my children.</div><div>I arrive at work and don't worry about them.</div><div>I think about them , talk about them but don't worry.</div><div>Unless....</div><div>I get a call from their school.</div><div>Then all bets are off.</div><div><br /></div><div>The line is blurred, no gone.</div><div>I am no longer a teacher, an employee . </div><div>I am a mom.</div><div><br /></div><div>Home is where I go.</div><div>Home is where I belong.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-2714828410629345654?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-47276714965514900962009-03-20T05:48:00.000-07:002009-03-20T06:12:18.678-07:00Son had indoor recess yesterday. The class was playing catch in the classroom.<div>He reach down to snatch the ball and in doing so, he knocked the chair on the desk in front of him.</div><div>The chair fell and hit him on the head.</div><div><br /></div><div>He said he was fine but after a few minutes he head started hurting more and he was dizzy.</div><div><br /></div><div>The teacher walked him down to the nurse. </div><div><br /></div><div>The nurse put ice on his head and told him to rest.</div><div>After about 15 minutes he said it was worse.</div><div>Now Son is not a complainer. When he gets hurts, he cries at first ( usually out of frustration) but is up in about 3 minutes playing.</div><div>The nurse knew this--she has known him since he was in preschool.</div><div>So she called me at school and told me to take him home and watch him.</div><div><br /></div><div>While driving to pick him up I called his doctor. I spoke with one of the nurses and told her she needed to talk me off the roof before I got to Son's school. All I could think of was Natasha Richardson!</div><div>The nurse said bring him right in.</div><div><br /></div><div>His doctor said he had a closed head injury but watch him. Anything changes call.</div><div><br /></div><div>We went home, snuggled on the couch and watched a movie.</div><div>After the movie Son stood up and lost his balance.</div><div><br /></div><div>I called the doctor--off to the ER.</div><div><br /></div><div>As calmly as I could I called Daughter and told her where we going and I would check in when I could.</div><div><br /></div><div>I calmly explained to Son where we were going and why.</div><div>He said fine but don't say " hospital" and will he be able to see a picture of his brain.</div><div><br /></div><div>After 2 hours, it was determined he has a concussion. </div><div>And to watch carefully. Wake her up every few hours through out the night.</div><div><br /></div><div>So we are home today. Sue lovingly offered to drive 2 hours to stay with him but I realized I would be pretty useless at work. So I am home.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am glad he is fine--No soccer for a week and I need keep him quiet.</div><div>But in a strange way I feel I need to Thank Natasha Richardson. Had her tragic accident not hit the news yesterday morning, I am not sure if I would have taken this so seriously.</div><div>I am not sure that Son would not be running around on the playground today or if he would be head butting balls at his game tomorrow.</div><div><br /></div><div>There is so much we don't understand about the brain.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-4727671496551490096?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-45426561787659556522009-03-18T02:50:00.000-07:002009-03-18T03:05:59.663-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M_48S5G_pXM/ScAefa3_X7I/AAAAAAAAAO8/9JKnah4mTww/s1600-h/IMG_0991.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M_48S5G_pXM/ScAefa3_X7I/AAAAAAAAAO8/9JKnah4mTww/s320/IMG_0991.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314281085436125106" /></a><br />When Daughter was little, women would stop me in store and tell me to enjoy those days, they go too fast.<div>I secretly was thinking " Get a life. Mind your own business. You don't know what you are talking about."</div><div><br /></div><div>Today I have a meeting to at Daughters school to discuss ..... High School!!!</div><div><br /></div><div>I didn't think I would be saying those two words and Daughters name together so soon.</div><div>But here we are!</div><div><br /></div><div>It seems like only yesterday she would run down the street to greet Hubby yelling " Daddy!".</div><div>It seems like only yesterday she started first grade while I sat in the car and cried!</div><div>It seems like only yesterday she had her first day of school here at the Happy Valley and I worried about her all day.</div><div>It seems like only yesterday she went to camp for the first time.</div><div>It seems like only yesterday she started middle school and here we are at HIGH SCHOOL!!!</div><div><br /></div><div>It's offical .. I have become one of those!</div><div>I feel an urge to tell people with babies to hold tight, memorize their faces, it goes too fast!</div><div><br /></div><div>She doesn't look like a girl anymore--she looks like a young woman.</div><div><br /></div><div>Where did the time go?</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-4542656178765955652?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-79392277576505896912009-03-15T16:05:00.000-07:002009-03-15T16:09:42.769-07:00Yesterday I got up and went to workout.<div><br /></div><div>I worked hard and sweated a lot!</div><div><br /></div><div>When I got home a took a long shower and shaved my legs.</div><div><br /></div><div>After my shower I got breakfast.</div><div>A bowl of yogurt, fresh blueberries and walnuts.</div><div><br /></div><div>I felt my whole body exhale!</div><div>A deep, long exhale.</div><div><br /></div><div>I think I am really liking this Happy Valley living.</div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-7939227757650589691?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-45840027165737313612009-03-14T12:02:00.000-07:002009-03-14T12:08:14.252-07:00<div>The last two days I have been really enjoying my students. </div><div>I have been joking with them and through my jokes I am teaching them things that they would not have gotten before.</div><div><br /></div><div>Example--they are getting ready to take the State exams at the end of the month. We are practicing writing. </div><div>I handed back their papers and ask them if they watched American Idol. They said yes.</div><div>I told them that Mark had set the bar and they all needed to meet it.</div><div>They laughed and then asked Mark if they could see his paper. </div><div>They joked that they didn't want to become Jorge and started writing.</div><div><br /></div><div>All of them improved! </div><div>And we bounded as a class and had fun!</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-4584002716573731361?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-41088638001044273852009-03-11T02:38:00.000-07:002009-03-11T02:41:45.301-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M_48S5G_pXM/SbeG47cXLAI/AAAAAAAAAO0/1JFcVtJSjpo/s1600-h/IMG_0444.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M_48S5G_pXM/SbeG47cXLAI/AAAAAAAAAO0/1JFcVtJSjpo/s320/IMG_0444.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311862598094236674" /></a>I took this picture at son's soccer game on Saturday.<div><br /></div><div>I thought it was great!</div><div>Two work from home mom's doing their thing!</div><div><br /></div><div>Wouldn't this make a great Apple ad?</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-4108863800104427385?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-84057755934375485722009-03-10T06:50:00.000-07:002009-03-10T06:52:51.396-07:00It snowed yesterday--another 5 inches.<div>Yes we had 60 degrees the day before.</div><div><br /></div><div>It is dark again in the morning. </div><div>I was starting to get up with the sun.</div><div>Once again I get up before the sun.</div><div><br /></div><div>Son is sick AGAIN!</div><div>This time sore throat.</div><div><br /></div><div>Haven't we already done this?</div><div>Is it February AGAIN!!</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-8405775593437548572?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-8145348731527920292009-03-09T02:59:00.000-07:002009-03-09T03:00:38.156-07:00It is dark out this morning.<div><br /></div><div>No,I mean it, it is dark!</div><div><br /></div><div>Pitch black.</div><div><br /></div><div>I get up at 5:30--it is dark!!</div><div><br /></div><div>This is going to be a long month!</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-814534873152792029?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-49065236153459478202009-03-06T05:26:00.000-08:002009-03-06T05:28:22.745-08:00It is going up to 50 today.<br />It is raining--but it is going up to 50.<br /><br />The birds are singing.<br />Ice is melting.<br /><br />Tomorrow it is going up to 60!<br /><br />I am SOOOOOO ready for spring!<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-4906523615345947820?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-26557832423977928802009-03-03T14:46:00.000-08:002009-03-05T02:46:15.955-08:00Hubby and I rented<b> Shopgirl </b>over the weekend.<div><br /></div><div>Have you seen it?</div><div>It is written, directed and stars Steve Martin.</div><div>It 's very good.</div><div>I thought it was beautifully shot and the love scenes were tender and moving.</div><div>I also was impressed how Steve Martin got into the mind of women.</div><div><br /></div><div>The movie got me thinking--</div><div>Wouldn't it be great if we had a Jeremy and a Ray combined into one?</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-2655783242397792880?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-26312725015450316712009-03-03T13:31:00.000-08:002009-03-04T03:01:27.391-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M_48S5G_pXM/Sa2kDDuQgqI/AAAAAAAAAOs/W2fT2foxQOU/s1600-h/IMG_0707.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M_48S5G_pXM/Sa2kDDuQgqI/AAAAAAAAAOs/W2fT2foxQOU/s320/IMG_0707.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309079908185572002" /></a><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>You know it is March because you have NO patience for snow.</div><div>You know it is March because you are checking the June calendar to see if we have another snow day will it mean another week of snow-- as of yesterday we out 6/19--one ore day and we come back on a Monday! :( </div><div>You know it is March because there is no football or baseball.</div><div>You know it is March because it is the only time you eat corned beef--what exactly is corned ?</div><div>You know it is March because you start looking for bulbs pushing out of the snow.</div><div>You know it is March because it is lighter in the morning.</div><div>You know it is March because you are sick of your wardrobe and you are wondering if it is to cold to wear that short sleeved shirt. </div><div>You know it is March because suddenly everyone is Irish.</div><div>You know it is March because 20 degrees seems balmy!</div><div>You know it is March because everyone has the blahs ..........</div><div><br /></div><div>I think they should trade March for another month of summer!!!!!</div><div><br /></div><div>FYI minus one this morning</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-2631272501545031671?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-77478544672007641442009-03-02T14:28:00.000-08:002009-03-03T02:48:21.309-08:00I got home from Jazzercise the other night all excited!<div>I was able to do a whole routine without messing up!</div><div><br /></div><div>I was so excited that I started to show Hubby and Son.</div><div><br /></div><div>Hubby said, " Ah,,don't you think you should wear a jog bra when you go to class?"</div><div><br /></div><div>I replied--" Really? Do I bounce?"</div><div><br /></div><div>" Yes!" replied Son whose hands were covering his face.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I bought a jog bra yesterday!</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-7747854467200764144?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-89512506006860026612009-03-02T05:02:00.000-08:002009-03-02T05:05:24.510-08:00ANOTHER SNOW DAY!!!!!<div><br /></div><div>We could see the ground. </div><div>The ice was gone.</div><div><br /></div><div>This morning--8 inches and counting! :(</div><div><br /></div><div>I need tulips.</div><div>I need robins.</div><div>I need .....SPRING!</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-8951250600686002661?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-15553258134282087072009-02-25T15:13:00.000-08:002009-02-26T02:54:05.924-08:00<div>Meg asked if she could trust me with something...... I said yes..</div><div><br /></div><div>She said " You can't tell anyone! Promise?"</div><div><br /></div><div>I should have said no.. but I didn't.</div><div><br /></div><div>I couldn't help myself--I WANTED to know.</div><div><br /></div><div>Meg said again " You can't tell anyone... ANYONE!!!!!  No One Else Knows!"</div><div><br /></div><div>I said " You can trust me."</div><div>What I SHOULD have said is--" Don't tell me!  I don't want to know--don't need to know!</div><div><br /></div><div>But I didn't ....</div><div>No one else knew--I had to know!!!!</div><div>and then she told me.</div><div><br /></div><div>Now I wish Ihad been stronger.</div><div>It's gossip --total gossip--gossip that no one else knows. </div><div>I have a weakness for gossip--I wish I could say I was better than that---</div><div>But ... I am not....  I am weak......</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>So Meg told me........</div><div>Now my opinion of someone has TOTALLY changed.</div><div>Someone I thought I knew --suddenly disappeared as the words came out of her mouth.</div><div>Someone I had know for 5 years. Someone I respected. Someone I thought would never be one of " those"... became one of " <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Those".</span></span></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>If it had happen one time --I might have said it was just a mistake.</div><div>It didn't happen once--it happened <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">all</span> summer.</div><div><br /></div><div>It explains so much...  </div><div> *his nervousness</div><div>*his restlessness</div><div>*his saying" Things are crazy here--you don't know how crazy."</div><div>*the moving of his assistant to another department --and why she was <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">soooo</span> upset!</div><div>*why they are always bickering!</div><div><br /></div><div>I thought I knew him.  </div><div><br /></div><div>I should have said no.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-1555325813428208707?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-58527200955511806972009-02-22T09:58:00.000-08:002009-02-24T02:57:25.688-08:00I feel a change --but I am not there yet.<div><br /></div><div>I see what I need to do and I am taking baby steps. It is starting to get done.</div><div><br /></div><div>I know what I want but I am still tired, overwhelmed, exhausted.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am trying to be kind to myself.</div><div>I am trying to take it a baby step at a time.</div><div><br /></div><div>I have use this tool before and I know it works.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am impatience......</div><div><br /></div><div>I feel a change, I see the change.  I just have to trudge up the mountain to get it.</div><div>One step at a time.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-5852720095551180697?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-38325282631609657152009-02-22T09:49:00.000-08:002009-02-23T03:11:21.561-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M_48S5G_pXM/SaGQd3jYsuI/AAAAAAAAAN0/nSDnr4l2Hw0/s1600-h/IMG_0442.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M_48S5G_pXM/SaGQd3jYsuI/AAAAAAAAAN0/nSDnr4l2Hw0/s320/IMG_0442.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305680678822130402" /></a>Need a hint?<div>Anyone for a sleepover?</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-3832528263160965715?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-18692899716888835752009-02-20T06:50:00.000-08:002009-02-20T06:51:52.849-08:00hubby and I are running away for the weekend.<div><br /></div><div>We are doing a Valentines, birthday, anniversary, oh yea that's why I married you weekend!</div><div><br /></div><div>I am excited!</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-1869289971688883575?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-75051492403307279962009-02-19T08:15:00.000-08:002009-02-19T08:18:59.453-08:00I am trying to get us to eat healthier.<div><br /></div><div>I am cutting out <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">trans fats</span>, enriched flour and high <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">fructose</span> corn syrup.</div><div><br /></div><div>I was looking for a "snack" for the sleepover.</div><div><br /></div><div>I pick up a bag of Cheese curls.</div><div>No enriched flour, no corn syrup no trans fat!</div><div><br /></div><div>Could this be the perfect healthy snack?</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-7505149240330727996?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-25538458344760415692009-02-18T04:44:00.000-08:002009-02-18T04:50:04.571-08:00The kids are having a sleepover. <div>Each of them invited a friend.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I decided to try a new idea for dessert--Chocolate Fondue.</div><div>Very easy--went over well--and they ate fruit!</div><div><br /></div><div>Here is the recipe</div><div>1 --16 ounce package of chocolate chips</div><div>1 cup of store bought caramel sauce</div><div>1/2 cup of milk</div><div><br /></div><div>Melt chocolate in double boiler / microwave--stirring every 30 seconds.</div><div>Stir in caramel and milk until smooth.</div><div><br /></div><div>Dippers suggestions:</div><div>pineapple, grapes, strawberries, graham crackers, potato chips, cake, marshmallows</div><div><br /></div><div>Happy dipping</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-2553845834476041569?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-74903689839347481472009-02-13T06:41:00.000-08:002009-02-14T04:46:48.896-08:00<div>Twenty years ago today Hubby proposed.</div><br /><div>A limo picked me up at my apartment. Hubby was stressed. The limo was over an hour late. </div><br /><div> </div><br /><div>On the way to the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">restaurant, </span><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">where</span> we had our first date, he proposed.</div><br /><div>He got down on one knee and asked me to marry him.</div><br /><div>He gave a ring that was made up of three beautiful diamonds that came from his <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Grandmother</span>.</div><br /><div> </div><br /><div>The night was magical and more than I could have ever imagine.</div><br /><div> </div><br /><div>And here it is 20 years later.</div><br /><div> </div><br /><div> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-7490368983934748147?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-57813592856947764902009-02-13T06:28:00.001-08:002009-02-13T06:40:23.705-08:00Twenty years ago I was dating a guy who I knew from high school.<br /><br />We started dating in college.<br />One night he looked at me and I saw something different. He pulled me close, kissed me and my knees went weak and I couldn't breath.<br /><br />That was the start of an on again/off again, six year relationship.<br /><br />Twenty years ago we were back together after being apart for <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">almost</span> a year.<br />Every day that we were apart, I thought about him,wondered about him.<br /><br />We got together right after Christmas.<br />This time it felt different. It felt right.<br /><br />Twenty years ago was the last time I wonder what is going to happen to us.<br />Because 20 years ago tomorrow he proposed.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-5781359285694776490?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-36449898323692176752009-02-11T04:26:00.000-08:002009-02-12T02:42:58.103-08:00<div>Last night I let the puppy out to do her business.<br /><br />I was being lazy and thought I would let her out and she would come back in.<br />She had done it before and I was confident she would do it again.<br /><br />After about five minutes I called her--nothing.<br />I got a bone and bang it on the slider--that always works.<br />Nothing<br /><br />I called again. Nothing.<br /><br />Did I mention that our house is on 6 acres of woods and that there are wild animals ( bears, moose, bobcats, fisher cats) in the woods?<br /><br />I called again. Nothing.<br /><br />I got my coat on and walked outside.<br />I couldn't see anything in the woods.<br /><br />I called again. Nothing.<br />Now the kids are up and getting nervous--Hubby was not home.<br /><br />Daughter gets a flashlight and helps me look.<br />Son is sitting by the door crying.<br /><br />I am thinking--" Great we get a puppy because we have had so many deaths and now the puppy is going to be eaten by wild animals--no trama here!"<br /><br />Suddenly I hear something.<br />I call again.<br /><br />I hear it again.<br />I call.<br /><br />Out from the woods emerges a wet puppy.<br /><br />I bring her in. I pick her up--I put her down--She is COVERED in smelly poop!!!!!!<br /><br />Bath time!!<br /><br />This morning I take her out --on her leash.<br />It is 5:30--still dark.<br /><br />I hear a sound--I wait.....listen....<br /><br />Coyotes .......they are howling. </div><br /><div><br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-3644989832369217675?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-2528195977664548012009-02-09T14:03:00.001-08:002009-02-11T02:32:58.746-08:00Today is the 100th day of school.<div><br /></div><div>Son had to make a project with a 100 objects on it.</div><div>He drew a cake with 100 candles.</div><div><br /></div><div>Personally I think they should celebrate 90 days.</div><div>You know the half way point...</div><div>We are on the downward slope.</div><div>The end is closer than the start point...</div><div><br /></div><div>Ah.. ok...like I was saying</div><div>It has been a long winter ......</div><div><br /></div><div>Today is the 100th day.</div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-252819597766454801?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-85677168054673999132009-02-09T13:57:00.000-08:002009-02-10T02:37:15.953-08:00I have discovered Facebook.<div><br /></div><div>Six people asked me to join so I finally did.</div><div><br /></div><div>Hubby showed me how to download the ap on my phone.</div><div><br /></div><div>Everyone says it is addictive.</div><div><br /></div><div>I don't know what they mean--</div><div>I have only check  it 25 times today.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-8567716805467399913?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-21596785661744658462009-02-09T07:41:00.001-08:002009-02-09T10:53:02.128-08:00The elementary school had a Valentine's dance Saturday night.<br />Son really wanted to go.<br /><br />Right before he left with Hubby, a he <strong>HAD</strong> to call his buddy.<br />No answer, he left a message--Urgent call back.<br /><br />He told me if his buddy calls have him call Daddy's cell.<br /><br />His Buddy called last night.<br /><br />Son went into the other room.<br />In between the whispers I heard<br />" She wasn't there. What do I do next? Can you help me?"<br /><br />8 Year old crushes--aren't they cute!<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-2159678566174465846?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-33483072901018821782009-02-05T14:43:00.000-08:002009-02-06T02:37:38.186-08:00I have been overwhelmed with trying to deal all the stuff from Hubby's dad's house.<div><br /></div><div>There are bags of stuff.</div><div>Stuff we need to sort, stuff we need to file, stuff we need to chuck, stuff we need to find places for.</div><div><br /></div><div>He was a bachelor for 20 years and I don't think he cleaned his house in over 10.</div><div><br /></div><div>I have attempted to start.</div><div>I go in, look,  pick up something and walk out.</div><div><br /></div><div>It is frustrating.</div><div>We had just finished painting the front room.</div><div>It was going to a yoga/ guest room.</div><div><br /></div><div>Now is is full of Joe's stuff.</div><div><br /></div><div>I don't know where to begin.</div><div><br /></div><div>I was describing this to a friend and she got all excited.</div><div><br /></div><div>"You need Cerji!"</div><div><br /></div><div>A friend of hers is starting a home organization business.</div><div><br /></div><div>I called her and she came over today.</div><div><br /></div><div>She starts a week from Monday!</div><div><br /></div><div>YIPPEE!!!!!</div><div><br /></div><div>I am actually excited about this project.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-3348307290101882178?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-33663620552896158442009-02-04T15:25:00.000-08:002009-02-05T02:31:01.205-08:00Through a series of events, I have gotten in touch with a few classmates from High School.<div><br /></div><div>I haven't heard from them in years!!!</div><div><br /></div><div>One of them emailed to let me know that his oldest son was expecting a child in a few months.</div><div><br /></div><div>That means he will be a Grandfather!!</div><div>How can this be happening!!</div><div>No one from my graduation class is old enough to be a Grandparent!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Hey wait a minute........</div><div>Hubby and I are this child's God parents!!!</div><div>Does that mean we are Grand God parents?!!!!!!!!</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-3366362055289615844?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-88840978000575140372009-02-03T12:08:00.000-08:002009-02-04T02:32:23.782-08:00You know it is February because the stores are full of pinks and reds.<div>You know it February because Victoria Secret ads are everywhere.</div><div>You know it is February because a snow day is not a big deal any more.</div><div>You know it is February because 4 inches of snow doesn't seem like a lot.</div><div>You know it is February because 20 degrees seems like a hear wave.</div><div>You know it is February because none of the mittens match anymore.</div><div>You know it February because jewelry ads are everywhere.</div><div>You know it is February because you see pictures of Washington and Lincoln everywhere.</div><div>You know it is February because you hear that cherry tree story again.</div><div>You know it is February because  you are sick of the winter!!</div><div><br /></div><div>Thank Goodness February is a short month!</div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-8884097800057514037?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-15416441317481284442009-02-02T13:09:00.000-08:002009-02-03T07:54:12.195-08:00Son was better this weekend .<div>Sent him to school and then at 10--call from his school.</div><div><br /></div><div>He is sick again.</div><div><br /></div><div>Time to call the doctor.</div><div><br /></div><div>The doctor said it it is the tail end of the flu.</div><div>His intestines are irritated and the bland diet is not helping.</div><div>Feed him small meals with fat--yes fats.</div><div>Cheese, peanutbutter, chips--yes chips.</div><div><br /></div><div>I'll give it a try.</div><div>At this point I will try Anything!</div><div><br /></div><div>Side note</div><div>The dog is now throwing up!!!!</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-1541644131748128444?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-4598844883094352442009-02-02T03:05:00.000-08:002009-02-02T03:08:13.041-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M_48S5G_pXM/SYbUCxsrklI/AAAAAAAAANs/5VL7M4EAGkw/s1600-h/IMG_0415.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M_48S5G_pXM/SYbUCxsrklI/AAAAAAAAANs/5VL7M4EAGkw/s320/IMG_0415.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298155155813536338" /></a><div><br /></div>Happy Ground Hogs Day.<div><br /></div><div>I hope Phil doesn't see his shadow---I have had enough of the winter!!</div><div><br /></div><div>I am dreaming of lying on my deck, listening to the kids play in the pool!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-459884488309435244?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-17638638108417534112009-01-30T07:32:00.000-08:002009-01-30T07:33:25.791-08:00More snow <div>More ice </div><div>More flu </div><div><br /></div><div>ENOUGH</div><div><br /></div><div>I want to go to Florida</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-1763863810841753411?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-49207901561782242162009-01-26T16:21:00.001-08:002009-01-29T03:20:44.675-08:00Hubby has  the flu now.<div><br /></div><div>True confessions --when I was sick with the flu I was a terrible patient!  </div><div>Put the flu, no sleep and good old case of PMS--and you have a crying, screaming maniac!</div><div>Impossible to live with. </div><div>Impossible to talk too.</div><div>Just plain impossible!!!!!!!!!</div><div><br /></div><div>Moving right along.</div><div>Hubby is now sick. </div><div>I came home to find him in bed--looking awful.</div><div><br /></div><div>He started to <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">describe</span> how he felt and I agreed with him. </div><div>I told him I felt the same way this weekend.</div><div><br /></div><div>He then said" No, this is worse!".</div><div><br /></div><div>The man who was ready to move out into a hotel with weekend because I was so hard to deal</div><div> said --</div><div>" This is worse!  You don't understand"</div><div><br /></div><div>I have to chuckle!!</div><div><br /></div><div>and honey is you reading this --sorry I could not resist.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-4920790156178224216?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-74411268985026984712009-01-26T13:25:00.000-08:002009-01-28T05:20:42.739-08:00<div>Usually I am up and out of the house by 6:30--yep that is right 6:30 AM.</div><div><br /></div><div>It is quiet when I leave  and dark.</div><div>The dogs have been fed and are still sleepy.</div><div>The birds are still asleep.</div><div>Hubby and Son are still asleep.</div><div>Daughter is up--but I would not say she is awake--she is not a morning person.</div><div><br /></div><div>This past Friday was different.</div><div>I was home with Son.</div><div><br /></div><div>At 7 am Daughter leaves, and Hubby is getting out of the shower.</div><div>The dogs are now excited because they think it is Saturday and they are going for a long walk.</div><div><br /></div><div>The local news is over and the Today shows starts.</div><div>Matt and Meredith are serious and look very professional.</div><div><br /></div><div>At 7:05   the first school  bus goes by.</div><div>The sun is peaking out over the hill behind our house. </div><div>Birds--mostly crows start making noise.( I wouldn't call it singing)</div><div><br /></div><div>7:30 Hubby leaves.</div><div>He comes back in 3 times because he needs things.  </div><div>He fills up his To Go coffee mug-it is a glass Peanut butter jar--a story for another day.</div><div>Comes back for his wallet and keys.</div><div>One more time for something else.</div><div>Son says Daddy always comes  back inside a few times--it is part of the routine.</div><div><br /></div><div>8:00 Matt and Meredith start joking around.</div><div>They go outside with Al while Ann is still inside.</div><div>Matt has a blue paper that he reads from, Meredith a pink.</div><div>The serious tone is gone.</div><div>The stories they report on are about dogs and recipes.</div><div><br /></div><div>8:10  The other school bus goes by.</div><div>This one you can hear a ways down the street.</div><div>It rattles over the bumpy snow cover road--</div><div>The sun doesn't hit it so it mounds of packed snow left over from the plows.</div><div><br /></div><div>8:30</div><div>The dishwasher is going. The washing machine is going.</div><div>I am frantically looking for a pen to copy down the recipe Al is going to give me next hour.</div><div><br /></div><div>9:00 Son is up.</div><div>He is lying on the couch.</div><div>The Disney channel is on.</div><div>I missed Al's recipe and now have no idea what to make for dinner.</div><div><br /></div><div>I feel like the day is half over!</div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-7441126898502698471?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7523966135622761831.post-18670658605017024362009-01-26T13:16:00.000-08:002009-01-27T07:27:19.869-08:00The Flu bug has come to the Happy Valley. <div><br /></div><div>Son got it first.</div><div>He was such a trooper!</div><div><br /></div><div>As I sat up with him until 2am, I was remembering the first time one of my children got the flu.</div><div><br /></div><div>It was Daughter and I was totally overwhelmed.</div><div><br /></div><div>Will she ever stop throwing up?</div><div>How will I know when it time to cal the doctor?</div><div>How can so much be in the tummy of a 3 month old?</div><div><br /></div><div>This time I knew what to do.</div><div>I got a bucket. I rubbed his back. I sat on the couch with him and turned on the TV to distract him.</div><div><br /></div><div>I knew what to do thanks to the help of Sue and ML.</div><div>Every time Daughter got sick I called them. </div><div>Sue would say-" Yep, that's what you do."</div><div>ML would say ." You are doing a good job. Trust your gut."</div><div><br /></div><div>It was nice to know that I could take of Son this time but I kindof missed that check in.</div><div><br /></div><div>It brought back warm memories.</div><div><br /></div><div>So as I stayed up with Son, I told him the stories of Sue and Grammy.</div><div>He said it helped.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7523966135622761831-1867065860501702436?l=happyvalleyusa.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Happy Valley Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18413538789363816559noreply@blogger.com1