tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-58097093528345570022024-03-08T15:16:10.722-06:00Fractured Family TalesRobbie Khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12355421896613106268noreply@blogger.comBlogger507125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809709352834557002.post-28888247905810306352015-01-18T13:11:00.001-06:002015-01-18T13:11:56.089-06:00Stream of Consciousness: Tired<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-size: large;">I am tired. I didn't sleep well last night with Big Yankee gone for work. I stayed up too late reading thinking it would be easier to fall asleep if I was exhausted. I cry most when I am falling asleep. And when I am in the car alone. And when I am in the shower. Today my tears don't stop but I have also mastered the art of hiding them. We are restless. Four trapped inside today. Snow still covers the grass and fields but roads are a slushy nightmare now. I am apprehensive to go out much. Only if I have to. Scared to re-injure my ankle. Five and a half weeks of a walking boot and no driving was quite hellish at times. Tomorrow is another day of no school or work. Another day to get on each other's nerves. Five minutes is not a very long time--except when it is. When your brain is a jumbled mess of thoughts, ideas and sadness and you don't know how to put it out there. So your fingers dance on the keyboard as the time ticks away and you wait anxiously for the oven timer to signal the end. </span><br />
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Robbie Khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12355421896613106268noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809709352834557002.post-25193230871302160712015-01-16T12:20:00.000-06:002015-01-16T12:20:30.264-06:00Fractured Friday<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-size: large;">I woke up today with a migraine so I took some meds and went back to beg. I woke up feeling worse which sucks because I have to work and I volunteered to watch other people's kids tonight. At least it is Pizza Friday!! I wrote this week but nothing worth publishing. So I didn't. In my half asleep medicated state this morning I dreamed-or perhaps hallucinated that my supervisor surprised me with a trip to Florida and Mexico for a conference. Dare to dream! My real life travel includes a two day Continuous Quality Improvement training two and a half hours away. It means a lovely hotel stay and sharing a room with my co-worker. The joys of working for a non-profit. My head is pounding, my kids have early release today, it's still snowing and Big Yankee is away for work all weekend. Calgon cannot take me far enough away....I NEED WINE!!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">What are your random thoughts on this Friday??</span></div>
Robbie Khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12355421896613106268noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809709352834557002.post-25559612571217959152015-01-11T12:23:00.001-06:002015-01-11T12:23:21.667-06:00Stream of Consciousness: Surviving<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://allthingsfadra.com/2015/01/stream-consciousness-sunday-whats-gallbladder-anyway/">All Things Fadra</a> has brought back Stream of Consciousness Sundays. It's like she KNEW I needed a brain dump. I cannot believe it in 2015. It was a hell of a year and I didn't write much....at least not outside of my head. I am hoping to change that in 2015. I need blogging-for the therapy and the connections. My world is quite noisy and chaotic and it helps me to hammer out some thoughts in black and white at my lovely keyboard. Most of my energy has been funneled into surviving. It takes every ounce and often that is still not enough. This was the first Christmas without my mom and I wasn't able to spend it with my dad or siblings. It is nine days until the anniversary of her death. I have no idea what the hell to do that day...how to get thru it.</span></div>
Robbie Khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12355421896613106268noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809709352834557002.post-67966283674796012052015-01-09T10:09:00.001-06:002015-01-09T10:09:24.079-06:00Fractured Friday<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Twenty-two.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">That is how many days it has been since I have blogged.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">If I did the math right.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Which I probably didn't.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">There were countless reasons why I haven't been here.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">But I am here now.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">And that is what matters.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I thought about throwing in the towel.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Bailing. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Walking away.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> Saying Adios.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> Not letting the door hit me in the ass on my way out.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> Fading.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> Surrendering.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> Jumping ship.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> Quitting.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">But a part of me is missing when I am not here. When I am not using the words and saying the things. I think I will stick around for a bit longer and I hope you will too.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Ever taken a blogging break? What brought you back?</span><br />
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Robbie Khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12355421896613106268noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809709352834557002.post-19589933654281013762014-12-17T13:09:00.002-06:002014-12-17T13:09:53.567-06:00Fractured<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; line-height: 17.5636348724365px;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">My life is full of irony. I am snickering as I write this very aptly named post today. </span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; line-height: 17.5636348724365px;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">This was my Facebook status update two Thursdays ago:</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; line-height: 17.5636348724365px;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Epitome of irony: Just hours after finally scheduling an appointment wi<u>t</u>h a foot and ankle specialist, you are walking out of your daughter's basketball evaluation and you fall spectaacularly and gracelessy to the ground which results in a fractured ankle</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; line-height: 17.5636348724365px;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Not only does Big Yankee work out of town but he works out of state. In fact as my great tragedy was unfolding two weeks ago he was on a private plane en route to Oregon. Good times. </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; line-height: 17.5636348724365px;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; line-height: 17.5636348724365px;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Luckily the eleven year old girl is taller and stronger than I and she was able to get me to the car. I drove home because it was my only option. My foot had gone numb by that point. or maybe I was in shock. Fortunately we were barely a mile from home. The kids helped me get inside and set me up on the couch with pillows and ice and ibuprofen. This was not my first rodeo. Having sprained the same damn ankle more than 40 times I knew exactly what to do.</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; line-height: 17.5636348724365px;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I texted husband a few times informing him I was in bad shape and would require a ride to the doctor in the morning. </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; line-height: 17.5636348724365px;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; line-height: 17.5636348724365px;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Somehow we managed to get the kids out the door and to school somewhat on time. I hopped and scooted my way across the floor and made it to his car. Luckily he insisted on a wheelchair when we arrived at urgent care. A doctor's visit, some x-rays and a cam walker later and I was on my way.</span></span><br />
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Robbie Khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12355421896613106268noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809709352834557002.post-23191975016049907882014-12-04T10:17:00.003-06:002014-12-04T10:17:49.901-06:00Generous<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-size: large;">"Mom, have you ever noticed how greedy GrandBob is?"</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>My Dad? The retired professor who like to scour thrift shops for khakis? The man who when you ask for gift ideas says he could use some socks or maybe a few of those colored Hanes t-shirts. The ones with a pocket if they aren't too pricey.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">"Hmmm, how do you mean buddy?"</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">"Oh you know, how he is always asking for a list? Let me buy you this giant Lego set he says. Here let me send you a card and put money in it. Can I buy you a fancy new computer? He always wants to spend money on us and give us things."</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>He always seems to know when we need it most. Even when I don't mention the huge, unexpected transmission work on my minivan, a check shows up. </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">"He loves us and wants to help and give us things we love and need."</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">"Yeah, he and Gran are giving us college too."</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">"Yep, they sure are. College is very important."</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Dad was a non-traditional student in the late 60s and 70s..a wife and two young daughters and a few years in the Army under his belt when he enrolled at the fancy private college. It was a far cry from the one room school house he attended in the Adirondacks. Mom worked her way thru the Teacher's College and played collegiate sports along the way. She put her sister thru nursing school. As she was dying and her sister emptied catheters, Mom joked that it was money well spent.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">"I think you mean GrandBob is generous. He likes to share and help just like Gran did."</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">"Yeah, that's what I mean. Generous."</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Conversation with my seven year old that happened when I told him he needs to work on his Christmas Wish List.</span></div>
Robbie Khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12355421896613106268noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809709352834557002.post-642102673841327492014-12-03T09:50:00.001-06:002014-12-03T09:50:26.802-06:00Ain't Gonna Write<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.gooddayregularpeople.com/2014/11/titles-of-posts-that-i-will-never-be.html">Alexndra of Good Day, Regular People</a> is inspiring and amazing and funny. She was oozing clever ideas during #NaBloPoMo and this here is one of them!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Blog Posts I Will Never Write:</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Love Letter to Pumpkin Spice Latte</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Fashion Forward Forty & Foxy</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Planning Your Posts</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The Joy of Coconut</span></div>
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Robbie Khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12355421896613106268noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809709352834557002.post-65122869264415103002014-11-30T21:17:00.002-06:002014-11-30T21:19:31.626-06:00NaBloPoMo Wrap Up <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-size: large;">Today is the final day of NaBloPoMo and I am both relieved and disappointed. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Relieved that I survived the month and posted 26 out of 30 days. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Disappointed that it is over. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I made the VERY last minute decision to join the crazy masses and I do not regret it. Going in I did not intend to post every single day but rather I wanted to challenge myself to post as much as I could. I also tried to comment more and though I didn't keep any official numbers I think I managed to reach that goal. I found some new blogs, read many amazing posts and found a gazillion blogging ideas. My biggest obstacle is time. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Did you do NaBloPoMo? What did you love about it? What was your biggest challenge?</span></div>
Robbie Khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12355421896613106268noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809709352834557002.post-51466065295035404682014-11-28T12:20:00.002-06:002014-11-28T12:20:51.721-06:00Soap Box<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: large;">My FaceBook post on Thanksgiving Eve because I was tired of my feed being blown up by certain things. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Contrary to popular belief, retail and health care workers aren't the only ones who work holidays. Big Yankee has worked nearly every Thanksgiving/Christmas/New Year's/Easter/etc since before we were even married. Working in social service and teaching I've worked my fair share of Christmas & New Year's Eves! What do you say we extend some compassion for EVERYONE who is working the holidays and to their loved ones who are effected? Let's go one step further and include all those who aren't spending it with those they love.</span></div>
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Robbie Khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12355421896613106268noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809709352834557002.post-134425552838237842014-11-26T20:42:00.003-06:002014-11-26T20:42:23.568-06:00Wordless Wednesday: Snow<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Robbie Khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12355421896613106268noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809709352834557002.post-36412440163396824402014-11-25T09:57:00.000-06:002014-12-03T09:51:50.254-06:00Question Tag<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">One of the fabulous perks of #NaBloPoMo is meeting new bloggers. There is lots of sharing and tagging going on and I love it. This is exactly how I met the lovely <a href="http://jayhawkmommy.com/2014/11/17/revenge-will-mine/">Denise</a> of Jayhawk Mommy. I am not even sure if we've gotten around to discussing the fact that I was a Kansan for several years before moving to the land of milk and potatoes. I came THIS close to going to KU for college!! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">1.What do you like most about blogging?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">**Connections. Reading life stories. The amazing writers. The people that make me laugh, and cry and nod my head and think "hell, yes!! Me too!"</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">2. What is your favorite book, and why is it your favorite?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">**This is like asking me to choose my favorite child. I love them ALL! I do suck at remembering my favorite books though. This could be because I read so MUCH! I started a renegade book club and I have to wait until the week before the meeting to read the book or I will forget it all. I love books that make me laugh and cry. Some of my favorites: </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Operating-Instructions-Journal-Sons-First/dp/1400079098">Operating Instructions by Anne Lamott</a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Bastard-Out-Carolina-A-Novel/dp/0452297753">Bastard Out of Carolina by Dorothy Allsion</a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/The-Saving-Graces-A-Novel/dp/0060598328">The Saving Graces by Patricia Gaffney</a></span></div>
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<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Firefly-Lane-Novel-Kristin-Hannah/dp/1469234459"><span style="font-size: large;">FireFly Lane by Kristin Hannah</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">3. What was the last thing you ate?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">**Nutella on toast</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">4. The best vacation you ever had!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">**Honeymoon when we spent a few weeks traveling on the East Coast or our month long family road trip across eleven states.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">5. The place you want to visit most in the world.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">**Ireland</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">6. Do you have any pets?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">**3 kids and a husband. Oh and two red eared slider turtles. I REALLY, REALLY want a puppy.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">7. What is your favorite pizza topping(s)?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I LOVE pizza!! I LIVE for pizza Fridays. I survived my pregnancies on pizza. There were weeks at a time where pizza was the only food I could keep down. Me and pizza are tight.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Favorites include:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">pepperoni and bacon</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">bacon and artichoke hearts</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">sundried tomatoes, spinach and artichoke hearts</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">supreme</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">pepperoni and black olives</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/d/d3/Supreme_pizza.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/d/d3/Supreme_pizza.jpg" height="267" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_pizza_varieties_by_country">source</a></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Now it's my turn to ask some questions! Ya'll are tagged!!!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">1. What is the kindest thing someone has done for you?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">2. What smells remind your of your childhood?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">3. When was the last time you cried? Why?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">4. Who was your least favorite teacher and why?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">5. Where do you want to retire?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">6. What is your can't live without appliance?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">7. Why do you blog?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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Robbie Khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12355421896613106268noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809709352834557002.post-14912420439471401702014-11-24T11:21:00.000-06:002014-12-03T09:52:06.658-06:00Reasons I Skipped<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-size: large;">Did you happen to notice that I took a #NaBloPoMo break? I skipped the weekend. At first it wasn't intentional and I probably could have scrambled to slap up a photo or a quote or something simple. But I didn't want to be disingenuous so I said screw it! Here are some reasons I failed to post:</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">1. I am not a plan a header.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">2. I spent Saturday volunteering at a local social service agency. I interviewed families for holiday assistance...talk about putting life in to perspective.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">3. I was recovering from a visit of the state evaluation team for our program. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">4. I went on a date with Big Yankee which is an extremely rare event due to our opposite scheduled, kids, responsibilities, life.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">5. I was finishing a final project for Classroom Management and fantasizing about the term ending.</span></div>
Robbie Khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12355421896613106268noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809709352834557002.post-70039220729654684472014-11-21T23:12:00.002-06:002014-12-03T09:52:24.890-06:00Status Update<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-size: large;">I do not have the skills to take a screen shot but today I give you my FaceBook status-thanks to the comedic timing of the seven year old.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Wyatt wisdom "So Mom I've been thinking and you are basically a bat. You stay up really late and when you are awake you are always taking care of everybody and you never really go outside. Well only for like the 4 or 9 seconds it takes you to get in the car to get us or to go to see one of your clients or when you go to your meetings. And you'd like to sleep all day if you could (he is annoyed I sleep till 9 on weekends). So yeah, you're pretty much a bat."</span></div>
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Robbie Khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12355421896613106268noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809709352834557002.post-80447401232164920682014-11-20T23:04:00.001-06:002014-12-03T09:52:58.446-06:00Magnified<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: large;">I had planned to participate in a clever questions post that is making the rounds. The timing is perfect with it being #NaBloPoMo Day #20 and with every ounce of energy sucked out of me. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">You see, I spent eight exhausting hours at a CQI training today. Continuous Quality Improvement is mind numbing number mumbo jumbo, statisistical analysis bullshit. Why don't I tell you exactly how I feel about it? </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I said more than once today "there's a reason I work with people and not with numbers." Rattling off all the mean, mode and median qualitative quantitative continuous discrete blah, blah, blah is NOT going to get my client out of jail. It isn't going to take provide a meal when her food stamps run out, or give her the courage to leave her ten year long abusive relationship. It isn't going to magically transport her out of poverty. The numbers won't qualify her for a better paying job. The carefully constructed bar graph can't cover the electricity bill this month or transport the sick baby to the doctor. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I wish numbers could provide some hope for the families I serve. Instead it magnifies the shameful ways our nation disappoints and ignores some of the most vulnerable citizens.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">And there you have it folks-the question post that turned into a rant.</span></div>
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Robbie Khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12355421896613106268noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809709352834557002.post-19257680212526439962014-11-19T17:03:00.001-06:002014-12-03T09:53:20.471-06:00Wordless Wednesday: When They Were Little<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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This little boater is thirteen and obsessed with Xbox.</div>
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This bowler is eleven and taller than me!</div>
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My brown-eyed baby is almost eight!</div>
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Robbie Khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12355421896613106268noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809709352834557002.post-78653752654210287342014-11-18T00:00:00.000-06:002014-11-18T00:00:01.013-06:00Old School Blogging: Five Random<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: large;">I love <a href="http://www.misselaineouslife.com/old-school-blogging-5-random-things/">Old School Blogging</a> and I have REALLY, REALLY tried to come up with five random facts that I have NEVER shared here. I discovered that it is easier said than done.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">1. Coconut repulses me. The smell, the texture, the taste. If someone tries to trick me and lures me in to eating coconut I will start gagging, retching and possibly even dry heaving.</span><br />
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<a href="http://coconutbenefits.ca/wp-content/uploads/2013/06/coconut1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://coconutbenefits.ca/wp-content/uploads/2013/06/coconut1.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">2. In fifth grade my best friend and I created a history club. We named it Kentucky Pioneer Women and called it KPW. We had meetings at recess and we were planning a conventions/sleepover but then she moved and the group fizzles despite our best efforts.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">3. I was awarded Perfect Attendance nearly every year of elementary school. In sixth grade I walked up to the front of the gymnasium to accept my certificate and then walked right out into the parking lot to puke. You can see me holding my stomach in the photos.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">4. I drove myself to the </span><span style="font-size: large;">hospital twice when I was in labor because it was very late and my husband was on the opposite coast and I didn't think I was REALLY in labor. After my second visit I ended up on bed rest.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">5. After many, many, many sleepless years I was diagnosed with sleep apnea in August. I have slept with my CPAP machine every single night since and am amazed how much better I feel both physically and mentally.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Now it is your turn to share some random facts!</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.nablopomo.com/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="NaBloPoMo November 2014" height="342" src="https://www.blogher.com/files/NaBloPoMo_November.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Robbie Khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12355421896613106268noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809709352834557002.post-75534023247506475472014-11-17T12:54:00.003-06:002014-11-17T23:45:35.059-06:00Questions<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.writingwishing.com/2014/11/mustache-question-four/">Alison</a> grabbed these from <a href="http://www.lovelifesurf.com/mustache-questions/">Christine</a> and I had to jump on the bandwagon too! Bam #NaBloPoMo Day #17! You should join in on the fun too.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"> Four names that people call me, other than my real name</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">1. Bird</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">2. Robbie</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">3. Mom/Momma/Mommy</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">4. Sweetie</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Four jobs I have had (other than current)</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">1. Coordinator After School Adventures</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">2. Transcriber @ Parenting Research Center</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">3. Pre-k teacher</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">4. House cleaner</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Four movies I've watched more than once</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">1. Breakfast Club</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">2. Top Gun</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">3. Despicable Me</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Four books I'd recommend</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">1. <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Operating-Instructions-Journal-Sons-First/dp/1400079098">Operating Instructions by Anne Lamott</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">2.<a href="http://www.amazon.com/The-Light-Between-Oceans-Novel/dp/1451681755">The Light Between Oceans by M.L. Stedman</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">3.<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Firefly-Lane-Kristin-Hannah/dp/0312537077">Firefly Lane by Kristin Hannah</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">4.<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Bastard-Out-Carolina-A-Novel/dp/0452297753">Bastard Out of Carolina by Dorothy Allison</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Four places I have lived</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">1. New York</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">2. Oklahoma</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">3. California</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">3. Kentucky</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Four places I'd rather be right now</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">1. Girls get away</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">2. Snuggled underneath a mountain of blankets</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">3. On the beach</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">4. Vegas</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Four things I don't eat</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">1.coconut anything</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">2. pumpkin anything</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">3.Sushi</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">4. Escargot</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Four of my favorite foods</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">1. pizza</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">2. seafood</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">3. mexican food</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">4. finger food</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Four tv shows that I watch-I don't have time to watch but these are the shows I would watch if I did!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">1. Parenthood</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">2. Big Bang Theory</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">3. The Good Wife</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">4. Mindy Project</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Four things I am always saying</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">1. It's time to go!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">2. Has anyone seen my phone/keys/debit card?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">3. We should TOTALLY do that!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">4. Remember I am THE cool mom!</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.nablopomo.com/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="NaBloPoMo November 2014" height="342" src="https://www.blogher.com/files/NaBloPoMo_November.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Robbie Khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12355421896613106268noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809709352834557002.post-75813267227539596572014-11-16T19:30:00.000-06:002014-12-03T09:53:40.401-06:00Playing Hooky<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-size: large;">I skipped #NaBloPoMo yesterday. Intentionally. I have 90+ drafts I could have finished and/or cleaned up enough to post. But I didn't. I could have slapped up a picture of our first snow or thrown some random quotes and hit publish. But I didn't. Yesterday was spent connecting. In REAL LIFE. It was amazing and entertaining and invigorating and relaxing and exactly what I needed. I don't feel the least bit guilty for playing hooky. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I went to a coffee I organized for new members of my Mom's Group. I met at least ten new people...and they met new people and so on and so on. I tell my "I joined this group out of desperation and they saved my life many times" story. I also got to hold several cuddly, cooing babies. Although there are no more babies in my future I will never be done.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">We slid across the ice & I took my kids swimming in the afternoon. I will always love the smell of chlorine. A friend joined me and we chatted while the kids splashed and jumped and played mermaids.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Big Yankee was home much earlier than usual for a Saturday night so we all hunkered down and watched The Croods. We need more family time.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I called and texted a few friends I hadn't talked to in ages.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">And that, my friends, is why I don't feel guilty for missing one day of #NaBloPoMo</span></div>
Robbie Khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12355421896613106268noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809709352834557002.post-26592749150936226952014-11-14T23:54:00.001-06:002014-12-03T09:54:02.133-06:00Fractured Friday<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-size: large;">We had our first snow day of the year today. It was more of a our city has turned into an ice rink day. It was one of those mornings I was thrilled that my children sleep like rocks and rely on their parents to drag them out of bed every school day. I did manage to crawl back under the covers and social media in peace.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I still had to work but at least it was from my dining room table. Dealing with a complicated crisis made it a tad less enoyable. I hosted a potluck for eight mommas and at least twelve kids. It was entertaining and busy and loud and I got my baby fix.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">That's all I got NaBloPoMo Day #14.</span></div>
Robbie Khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12355421896613106268noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809709352834557002.post-52708911208466780332014-11-13T12:25:00.002-06:002014-11-13T12:25:40.089-06:00Thankful Thursday<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: large;">1. I am one of those freaks of nature who is REPULSED by coffee so when I wake up to -2 and snow falling on the ground I need something more than my usual ice cold Coca-Cola. </span><br />
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<a href="http://minougirl.files.wordpress.com/2013/08/photo2-64.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://minougirl.files.wordpress.com/2013/08/photo2-64.jpg" height="320" width="245" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I am thankful to have discovered this in my pantry this morning. It is fabulous!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">2. I am thankful for the flexibility of my job which allows me to work in front of the fireplace at home today.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">3. I am thankful for the glorious white snowflakes falling from the </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">4. I am thankful that we can provide hats, coats, mittens and warm clothing for our children.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">5. I am thankful for opportunity to bring people together.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">6. I am thankful that I am one assignment and one math test away from finishing this term.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">7. I am thankful that #NaBloPoMo is almost half over!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">8. I am thankful for a job that allows me to give a hand up.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">9. I am thankful for all of you who take the time to read my words and leave comments.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">10. I am thankful for connections.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">What are you thankful for today?</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.nablopomo.com/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="NaBloPoMo November 2014" height="342" src="https://www.blogher.com/files/NaBloPoMo_November.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Robbie Khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12355421896613106268noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809709352834557002.post-45797729885278132092014-11-12T14:44:00.000-06:002014-11-12T14:44:02.217-06:00Second Grade<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-size: large;">My second grade teacher was Mrs. Rigsby. Her dark hair was piled on top of her head in a late 1970s interpretation of the beehive. She read to us from chapter books after lunch. She'd move her teacher chair front and center with the green chalkboard as her background. It seemed like she always stopped just as we were getting to a good part. When she read us "Ribsy" by Beverly Cleary I lived in fear of accidentally calling her Mrs. Ribsy. It was something I would never be able to live down.</span><br />
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<a href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/e/e7/Ribsy_cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/e/e7/Ribsy_cover.jpg" height="400" width="282" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">We had to do timed math drills in front of the entire class thanks to modern technology of the overhead projector and the chalkboard. I NEVER finished in the sixty seconds we were given. My sweaty hands could barely hold on to the white chalk and it was all I could do to keep from throwing up. I felt ashamed. I hated math.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">For reading we were divided into groups that I am sure were based on ability. I was insanely shy and did not like to read out loud which made her think I couldn't read well. I was nervous and quiet and stumbled over my words. Yet I was a speed reader who zoomed through chapter books when given the chance to read independently. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Our reading groups had catchy little names based on a rotating theme. Sometimes we were Blue Jays, Cardinals and Bluebirds. But they all got mixed up in my anxiety ridden mind and I would go to the reading table with the wrong groups. And the kids would laugh and she would chastise me for forgetting. I started picking one or two people in my group to follow but that didn't work either because people changed reading groups as determined by Mrs. Rigsby. I eventually just stayed in my seat and waited for her to say, "Robbie, we are WAITING on you. Can't you remember your group?"</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Second grade was not my favorite.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">What do you remember about second grade?</span></div>
Robbie Khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12355421896613106268noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809709352834557002.post-73362215796214983732014-11-11T14:33:00.002-06:002014-11-11T14:47:21.569-06:00Breathless<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-size: large;">We were parked haphazardly in a gravel driveway. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">If I rolled down the windows and listened hard enough I could hear the faint notes coming from Mrs. Duncan's piano studio. My oldest son was playing.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The Nissan quest transformed into a rocket. StinkBug pushing buttons, adjusting dials and barking out orders. We were just about to land on the moon when my cell phone rang. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Seeing the number and bracing myself.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It would not be good news.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">They don't call at 5:30 on a Thursday night to talk.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Taking a deep breath and stepping out of my van. Trying to to say a casual hello despite a huge lump in my throat.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Cars whizzing by on the two lane highway behind me. StinkBug pounding on the window yelling for me to get back in the rocket. We hadn't landed yet. I wasn't wearing my space suit.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">He tried to sound casual. To downplay the situation. That's what my parents do. It's what they have always done.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">She'd had a cold for a few days and he finally convinced her to go to the walk in clinic. My mom is nothing if not stubborn.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It hadn't been easy to get her there. She couldn't breathe without her oxygen so he loaded up her tank. I can picture Mom trying to give detailed instructions on how he should do it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Even though she couldn't breathe on her own she had to control something. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Dad putting it down in the hallway just as he got to the garage door. Probably once more before loading it into the back passenger seat of their blue Ford Escape. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I'd helped load it when they were here in August. They'd driven more than fourteen hundred miles to our new home. He couldn't believe how effortless I made it look. I had joked that I'd been lifting weights and I was thirty years younger than he. Truth is, it was heavy but a seventy-two year old man shouldn't have to carry his wife's oxygen tank.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I didn't bother to ask why they didn't call an ambulance. They don't do that kind of thing. They wouldn't want to be a burden.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">When my parents arrived at the clinic they were told to go directly to the ER. The hospital would be expecting them. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">**This post was originally published in February 2013. Today is my mom's seventy-forth birthday. She died on January 20, 2014 after nearly a month of hospice care. I find her absence deafening and my grief paralyzing. I wanted desperately to write something for today but I am just trying to survive it.</span></div>
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Robbie Khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12355421896613106268noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809709352834557002.post-53386932282060014172014-11-10T23:35:00.001-06:002014-11-10T23:35:18.669-06:00Where I Come From<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: large;">I come from</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">County seat of Onondoga</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Northeast corner of Finger Lakes</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Granddaughter of dairy farmers</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Daughter of a teacher and a professor</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I come from hard work and determination</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> saving up or doing without</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> German and Irish immigrants</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">doers and givers</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Where do you come from?</span></div>
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<a href="http://www.nablopomo.com/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="NaBloPoMo November 2014" height="342" src="https://www.blogher.com/files/NaBloPoMo_November.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Robbie Khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12355421896613106268noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809709352834557002.post-44979533536883461312014-11-09T23:01:00.001-06:002014-11-10T23:51:34.482-06:00Selfie Sunday<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: large;">I have been WRITING all damn day. You see I thought it was a good idea to go back to school full time because working full-time, parenting three kids (solo much of the time) and all my community obligations weren't enough to keep me busy. And now it is the end of my term and crunch time which means I wrote two papers on Classroom Management, Engagement and motivation. Therefore my brain is fried but I don't want to skip a day of #NaBloPoMo so here are a selection of selfies. Which look do you like the best?</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_6fNdvqaqxQv9IrCZDo5ambATF7vS8vJDvtgXo2pEHK01kbgDJAI3Uqdvl1l80amsWjhm8Xc6V6h8hZjSea-m6aP-HFbnrxoDUgs9grmxWEtZEcaC4oXmTG_aFXon36-b1-x3lFanxgc/s1600/hallowee+2013+033.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_6fNdvqaqxQv9IrCZDo5ambATF7vS8vJDvtgXo2pEHK01kbgDJAI3Uqdvl1l80amsWjhm8Xc6V6h8hZjSea-m6aP-HFbnrxoDUgs9grmxWEtZEcaC4oXmTG_aFXon36-b1-x3lFanxgc/s1600/hallowee+2013+033.JPG" height="376" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoH2yghe_xaEjP3Ab8G98D3USduEAQ3wF4SOD8JmxVP3ZNFEjRSU5jXsT6aTYw0qYusgGqIiwiuvMGgjthrfdSnmZkK0B-Kt-6R_772f-6_W9Mgp57a0its0COsRyWNDUPSwGs3XeRWv8/s1600/mid+may+2+001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoH2yghe_xaEjP3Ab8G98D3USduEAQ3wF4SOD8JmxVP3ZNFEjRSU5jXsT6aTYw0qYusgGqIiwiuvMGgjthrfdSnmZkK0B-Kt-6R_772f-6_W9Mgp57a0its0COsRyWNDUPSwGs3XeRWv8/s1600/mid+may+2+001.JPG" height="313" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg8zG1qrMbnZPjh3YZERR_Y_EANzywpuEY3h7F7-we6CaniiAPJveGsm7OQN2B6pvmQJpFQnSOyLsnKMPuZj95GaojEIzEFpt3tGKvlbhS2gSMhufoTwHOWwe9gPV6bFl0JCbDnwXxcig/s1600/Late+September+2013+010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg8zG1qrMbnZPjh3YZERR_Y_EANzywpuEY3h7F7-we6CaniiAPJveGsm7OQN2B6pvmQJpFQnSOyLsnKMPuZj95GaojEIzEFpt3tGKvlbhS2gSMhufoTwHOWwe9gPV6bFl0JCbDnwXxcig/s1600/Late+September+2013+010.JPG" height="400" width="393" /></a></div>
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Robbie Khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12355421896613106268noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5809709352834557002.post-79583114352847189172014-11-08T22:54:00.001-06:002014-11-09T14:14:57.351-06:00And Then I Woke up<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: large;">I woke up completely disoriented today. My mind was fuzzy and my body achy. I had a Mom dream in the wee hours of the morning. That is what my brother and I started calling those dreams after Mom died. At first we would call or text each other to talk about each one. But as the months passed we stopped for no real reason.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">It's odd but I don't remember dreaming about her when she was alive... except for the VERY last time. But then again, I didn't sleep when she was alive.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">This dream was incredibly vivid, as are all Mom dreams. I smell it, feel it and often wake up with tears streaming down my face or a soggy pillow.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">This time I was at my parents house and getting ready to go out with two friends. One of them was very clearly my BFFFFFFFF. We have been to hell and back together more times than I want to remember. In my dream, I was looking in the bathroom mirror putting the finishing touches on my hair as my friends stood in the hallway talking to me. We talked of wine, where to eat, and rehashed memories of our younger days.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">It was definitely in my parents living room. Mom was sitting on their couch...the blue one we had bought for their twenty fifth wedding anniversary...which was twenty years ago. My parents are frugal people.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">The dark blue couch was pushed up against the far wall as it tends to be at Christmas time when they rearrange to make room for the tree. She had a very small dark haired baby boy in her lap. I don't know who it was as we didn't call him by name. It was eerie how he looked exactly like my youngest son with his jet black hair and long eyelashes. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Mom looked healthy... better than healthy physically. She looked as if she had just come home from church as she was wearing a skirt.It seems she wasn't healthy though..at least not mentally so. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">In my dream I walked into the living room because of the loud voices and found my older son standing over her. They were arguing. She was poking the baby over and over. Not hard. The baby was barely fussing but she kept doing it over and over. It was as if she didn't know it was wrong to do.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I scooped him up and walked back to the hallway and announced to my friends, "I can't go. I have to stay here. I need to be here."</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">And then I woke up.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">As Mom was dying in January, one of her big concerns was that she would get loopy and be incoherent. She did not want that. She did not want to be a burden. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">She was never a burden. It was a privilege to care for her during her last month on this earth even if it was the hardest thing I have ever done in my life.</span><br />
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Robbie Khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12355421896613106268noreply@blogger.com5