<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4482076110833618196</id><updated>2011-08-02T15:30:50.586-07:00</updated><category term='Holidays'/><category term='9/11'/><category term='i suck'/><category term='irish dance'/><category term='old stuff'/><category term='New Year'/><category term='Drunk'/><category term='vacation'/><category term='Family'/><category term='Swine Flu'/><category term='politics'/><category term='Friends'/><category term='events'/><category term='nature'/><category term='military'/><category term='school'/><category term='Welcome'/><category term='Life'/><category term='gifts'/><category term='geek stuff'/><category term='celebrity'/><category term='history'/><category term='Gracie'/><category term='sick'/><category term='star trek'/><category term='Navy'/><category term='kids'/><title type='text'>Abplanalp Soup</title><subtitle type='html'>The comings and goings of the Abplanalp clan.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Kristine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16672271400402571917</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SZs49nqGe-I/AAAAAAAAACg/cyJ1kiAKWPs/S220/wed5.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>63</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4482076110833618196.post-2552235571230980084</id><published>2010-05-20T09:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-20T09:29:35.470-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='i suck'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>Miss me?</title><content type='html'>Wow! It's been a while. I'm sorry. But I can explain. I've been so busy with Gracie and all her extra curricular activities that I simply didn't have the time.  Do you believe me? (sorry Kori)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What has happened in 5 months? Let's see.&lt;br /&gt;Gracie had her very first feis (Irish dance festival. It's a competition) in January. She came in 5th 5th  7th and 1st.&lt;br /&gt;Then she had her second feis on May 1. She came in 1st, 1st 1st and 2nd!! So yeah, she's improved quite a bit!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also on May 1st Chris and I celebrated our 11th anniversary! We spent the day at the above mentioned festival. All in all, a very good way to spend the day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In February and March Gracie was in Annie. She was an orphan and loved every second of it.&lt;br /&gt;She loved it so much that recently she auditioned for Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat and was cast as a kid in the "children's choir."&lt;br /&gt;She's been bitten by the acting bug. She loves every second of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's the quick wrap up for you and I promise to update a little more often.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4482076110833618196-2552235571230980084?l=abpsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/2552235571230980084/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4482076110833618196&amp;postID=2552235571230980084&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/2552235571230980084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/2552235571230980084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/2010/05/miss-me.html' title='Miss me?'/><author><name>Kristine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16672271400402571917</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SZs49nqGe-I/AAAAAAAAACg/cyJ1kiAKWPs/S220/wed5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4482076110833618196.post-7991042607519723765</id><published>2010-01-01T21:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-01T21:05:45.295-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='New Year'/><title type='text'>The Future Is Now!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;" &gt;Happy&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;2010!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish you all the very best in the new year! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where the heck is my flying car I was promised back in 1984?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Welcome to the future friends! Have a great year!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4482076110833618196-7991042607519723765?l=abpsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/7991042607519723765/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4482076110833618196&amp;postID=7991042607519723765&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/7991042607519723765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/7991042607519723765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/2010/01/future-is-now.html' title='The Future Is Now!'/><author><name>Kristine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16672271400402571917</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SZs49nqGe-I/AAAAAAAAACg/cyJ1kiAKWPs/S220/wed5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4482076110833618196.post-2467495933031799257</id><published>2009-12-30T22:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-30T22:56:32.340-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Drunk'/><title type='text'>Inebriated Child Rearing</title><content type='html'>Drunk parenting is one of the Worlds greatest spectator sports and includes fantastic dialogue like;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Child: Is it ok if I watch some Scooby Doo before I go to sleep?&lt;br /&gt;Drunk Dad: Hey, No problem. Just make sure your tv is off. (said with a totally straight face)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My husband is home from patrol. He is enjoying a drink. Something he hasn't done is (quite obviously) a very long time.&lt;br /&gt;Welcome home Chris!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4482076110833618196-2467495933031799257?l=abpsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/2467495933031799257/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4482076110833618196&amp;postID=2467495933031799257&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/2467495933031799257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/2467495933031799257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/2009/12/inebriated-child-rearing.html' title='Inebriated Child Rearing'/><author><name>Kristine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16672271400402571917</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SZs49nqGe-I/AAAAAAAAACg/cyJ1kiAKWPs/S220/wed5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4482076110833618196.post-7006344653395144953</id><published>2009-11-04T20:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-04T20:45:41.858-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gifts'/><title type='text'>Friends are Priceless...But Some are Worth Even More.</title><content type='html'>Today I was reminded of just how important my oldest and dearest friend Jennifer is to me.&lt;br /&gt;She was my next door neighbor growing up.&lt;br /&gt;She visited me in the hospital the very day I was born.&lt;br /&gt;She went on family vacations with me.&lt;br /&gt;She spent every single day at my house (or vice versa)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She gave me the chicken pox.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today she gave me a gift that I honestly don't believe I will ever be able to repay.&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever had something so valuable, personally valuable, lost forever?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I got a call from Jenny. She wanted to meet for coffee as she was passing by my house on her way to the ferry. She had something to give me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She told me it was something that had belonged to me. She said "remember when you moved and you had people come in and paint?" I remember vividly moving from my childhood home. So I said yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems we had left behind a few items that the painters and carpet guys tossed out. One of those items caught my neighbors eye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She at 13, pulled it from the trash, cleaned it then lovingly placed it in her hope chest to give to me.&lt;br /&gt;It's been 23 years.&lt;br /&gt;Today she gave it to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23 years ago she found a quilt. Not just any quilt. A hand sewn quilt. The very last one my 96 year old Great Grandmother ever made. She had made it for me and I cherished it then even when she was still alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I would have given my weight in gold to have it back. You see, my Gram died at the same time we moved from that home. I knew the quilt was lost. We assumed it had been lost in the move but never placed where.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was pregnant with my daughter I cried to my husband how I wished I had that quilt.&lt;br /&gt;A small piece of my sweet, intelligent Irish, Great Grandmother. Whom I adored with all my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks to my oldest and dearest friend, I have it back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone else would have thought we meant to toss it out. Not Jenny. She knows me to well. She knew better. She knew how important that piece of cloth was to me. That is a true friend...no, that is family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you Jenny. I am truly blessed to have you in my life and I always have been. I love you my dear friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank You.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4482076110833618196-7006344653395144953?l=abpsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/7006344653395144953/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4482076110833618196&amp;postID=7006344653395144953&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/7006344653395144953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/7006344653395144953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/2009/11/friends-are-pricelessbut-some-are-worth.html' title='Friends are Priceless...But Some are Worth Even More.'/><author><name>Kristine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16672271400402571917</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SZs49nqGe-I/AAAAAAAAACg/cyJ1kiAKWPs/S220/wed5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4482076110833618196.post-3813880210587797003</id><published>2009-11-03T14:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-03T15:12:08.879-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gracie'/><title type='text'>What Ever Happened to Soccer Mom?</title><content type='html'>My daughter. She is exuberant and outgoing and quite a talented kid...if I do say so myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last year we did one activity, dance. Two, once the weather was warmer and swimming could resume.  So two things to shuttle between.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year was gearing up to be a rather uneventful one. Easy. My daughter on the other hand had different plans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She started Irish dance....and we added choir. Because, she can sing and sing well for an 8 year old. She loves to sing and I decided, what's it going to hurt?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we got word that Annie was going in production at the high school...and they needed kids!&lt;br /&gt;So naturally my Annie addict wanted in on that action. Seriously, she is addicted to it, she even has the "vintage" dolls from the 70's and saw Annie live on stage for her 7&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; birthday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we went to auditions. I naturally tried to do my best to remind her that regardless of what happens it's just awesome that she is so brave and willing to sing in front of everyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We walked into the auditions and I wanted to turn around and walk out for her. I never had problems on stage, but I freaked at the amount of people in that auditorium. I was scared for her!&lt;br /&gt;I know I have Mom ear and think everything she sings is sunshine and roses. When in fact it could sound like a strangled cow for all I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked her if she wanted to leave after 10 or so REALLY good girls sang. She said "no way"&lt;br /&gt;So we waited. Finally after about an hour she was called.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She walked on stage, said her name then belted out Tomorrow. She nailed it!&lt;br /&gt;However, like I said there were a ton of people in there so I didn't expect much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two days later the director called and offered her a part as an orphan. She was thrilled...Of course!&lt;br /&gt;I'm bragging now...but the director also told me they had over 150 girls audition....they cast 8 parts.  &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;My Baby's Gonna Be a Star!&lt;/span&gt; (said with a thick southern accent...of course)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So she has been going to Annie rehearsals twice a week for the last few weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then last night we got some more good news.&lt;br /&gt;She applied for the Miss &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Kitsap&lt;/span&gt;/Miss &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Poulsbo&lt;/span&gt; little sister program. They aren't contestants themselves, but the girls get paired up with one of the contestants and do publicity things with them as well as a number on stage during the actual pageant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I'm not a big pageant person. But this program is really fun. Plus, it's another thing that was open to all third grade girls in our county. Only a few are selected because there are only so many towns in the county! That is a really big deal!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Naturally she is really excited about that too. So we are now doing four things, not including the Girl scouts troop she is supposed to join. ugh! thankfully they only meet once every other week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, it's going to be a very busy winter AND Chris is out to sea and doesn't get to enjoy it!&lt;br /&gt;Thankfully he should be home in time to see the end results. Hopefully!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4482076110833618196-3813880210587797003?l=abpsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/3813880210587797003/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4482076110833618196&amp;postID=3813880210587797003&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/3813880210587797003'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/3813880210587797003'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/2009/11/what-ever-happened-to-soccer-mom.html' title='What Ever Happened to Soccer Mom?'/><author><name>Kristine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16672271400402571917</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SZs49nqGe-I/AAAAAAAAACg/cyJ1kiAKWPs/S220/wed5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4482076110833618196.post-3179389928926039117</id><published>2009-10-18T13:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-18T14:12:52.552-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Swine Flu'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sick'/><title type='text'>Beware the Pig...</title><content type='html'>So much has been going on lately...but all of it has been over shadowed by one simple word.&lt;br /&gt;SWINE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You've seen the hype. Heard the news reporters tell you "we're all going to die"&lt;br /&gt;But I am happy to report...that's simply not the case. though, you wish it were when it's you suffering from it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see, a couple weeks ago my handsome husband came home from work not feeling so hot. He never gets sick, so of course I took notice.&lt;br /&gt;He coughed and slept, but still went to work and after a few days was on the mend again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few days later I was down for the count. Last Saturday I went to a family event on the boat, within two hours of coming home I was in bed dying. I remember nothing until I woke up Monday morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had no choice. I had to get out of bed because Chris had to go to work and Gracie had the day off. So I pushed my way through. Even though my lungs still feel like they are on fire every time I cough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday, Gracie went to school and I took it easy. I was starting to feel better, but exhausted and weak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday Gracie didn't feel well. She stayed home from school that day with what I thought sounded like croup or something. A high pitched barking cough. Not much of a fever. 99, but the cough made her tired so I kept her home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thursday I went in to wake Gracie up...see if she was well enough to go to school. She was shivering. I put my hand on her forehead and it felt like fire. I ran and grabbed the thermometer, 103.9.&lt;br /&gt;I told her to get dressed, we were going to the hospital.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took her to the Navy hospital. She's taken back to a room where we wait, and we wait and we wait. All the while the girl in the next bed behind the curtain is getting juice and blankets and having her blood pressure and temp taken. Gracie...totally ignored. I went outside the curtain on more than once occasion to ask for help, blankets something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally I was fed up. Gracie was hurting so badly and coughing like crazy. She was freezing (from the fever) and dehydrated. I went to the nurses station where one doctor and a nurse were flipping through a Vogue magazine together and told them we were leaving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They tried to use the "we're really busy and we'll get to her as soon as we can" and while I can understand the Manolo's fall collection is an important topic, my daughters health ranks slightly higher.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said "obviously you don't think it's the flu because you're not taking this very seriously"&lt;br /&gt;Grabbed Gracie and walked out the door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was so upset I was seeing red, actually seeing red!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I drove back home...almost gave up the whole medical evaluation with the idea that if they weren't taking it seriously, then I must be overreacting. But that nagging little voice in my head said to take her to see someone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I called our doctor from my cell. No openings for another week and a half.&lt;br /&gt;Urgent Care. Right there in front of me. I pulled in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Within ten minutes Gracie was back in a room. The doctor came in minutes later. They did the rapid test for the flu....guess what. It's the flu!&lt;br /&gt;They of course sent those results in to the State lab.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vindicated, I called the Navy hospital. I got our insurance to cover the cost of the Urgent Care visit and informed the hospital that she does indeed have the flu. Way to go guys!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway...the moral of the story, trust your instincts.&lt;br /&gt;This bout of H1N1 didn't effect us like the flu.&lt;br /&gt;We all had a bad cough, but not much of a fever except Gracie that one day. I was sick to my stomach once. That's it. And I think it had to do with all the coughing not nausea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The biggest symptom...weak and tired. Ever active Gracie wanted nothing but to lay in bed and sleep.&lt;br /&gt;It passes rather quickly. A week or so until you feel like a human again....but it feels like it take years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The best news of all, we are now immune to at least this strain of H1N1.  Yay!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4482076110833618196-3179389928926039117?l=abpsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/3179389928926039117/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4482076110833618196&amp;postID=3179389928926039117&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/3179389928926039117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/3179389928926039117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/2009/10/beware-pig.html' title='Beware the Pig...'/><author><name>Kristine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16672271400402571917</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SZs49nqGe-I/AAAAAAAAACg/cyJ1kiAKWPs/S220/wed5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4482076110833618196.post-2025292243238756104</id><published>2009-09-14T15:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-14T15:42:00.832-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='celebrity'/><title type='text'>What the H@ll Just Happened?</title><content type='html'>Caution, explicit language follows:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there I am, minding my own business when all of a sudden I get flooded with emails, twitter messages and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;facebook&lt;/span&gt; status updates about &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Kanye&lt;/span&gt; West and Taylor Swift. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;WTF&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I had to do a little digging because those two names go about as well together as eyeballs and hot glue guns.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seems Mr. West pulled a very low trick on the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Mtv&lt;/span&gt; awards. Something I might add, I haven't watched since &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Soundgarden&lt;/span&gt; was up for a nomination.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I digress. It seems Taylor Swift (who is a pretty typical pop singer, my 8 year old daughter loves her) won her very first &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;moonman&lt;/span&gt; award. Good for you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Kanye&lt;/span&gt; wasn't happy with this outcome and decided he somehow, is more important than anyone else on the planet and jumped on the stage, stole the mic from Miss Swifts hands and began ranting how &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Beyonce&lt;/span&gt; should have won.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Excuse me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A flabbergasted &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Beyonce&lt;/span&gt; in the audience gave him a "oh no you didn't" look before turning all sorts of red. She even frantically looked around her like she was being &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Punk'ed&lt;/span&gt; and Ashton &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Kutcher&lt;/span&gt; was going to jump out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Kanye&lt;/span&gt; took this, I'm quite sure (though I've never won a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;moonman&lt;/span&gt; myself) very important moment away from a 19 year old girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's a freaking child you piece of shit jackass!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who the hell does he think he is? Seriously? Didn't his mother teach him manners? You DON'T do that! I don't care who you are, or who you THINK you are. You just don't. It's reeks of low class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Worse than that, his selfishness (though in his shallow, narcissistic mind made it out to be chivalrous) was a major embarrassment to the one person he was trying to defend!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;None the less, the class act that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Beyonce&lt;/span&gt; is, she gave Taylor Swift her moment. Kudos &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;Beyonce&lt;/span&gt;. Proving once again that you indeed are a lady.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, the question I have to ask, when did people decide rude is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;? &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;Kanye&lt;/span&gt; just did it in a massive way, but he's no different than most of the people who cross your path daily. His problem is ego. What's the excuse for everybody else?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ugh. See, this is why I can't stand awards shows. Mind numbingly, self absorbed people doing ridiculous things.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4482076110833618196-2025292243238756104?l=abpsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/2025292243238756104/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4482076110833618196&amp;postID=2025292243238756104&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/2025292243238756104'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/2025292243238756104'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/2009/09/what-hll-just-happened.html' title='What the H@ll Just Happened?'/><author><name>Kristine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16672271400402571917</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SZs49nqGe-I/AAAAAAAAACg/cyJ1kiAKWPs/S220/wed5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4482076110833618196.post-4524153143289958845</id><published>2009-09-11T14:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-11T20:27:25.890-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='history'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='events'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='9/11'/><title type='text'>Where Were You 8 Years Ago Today?</title><content type='html'>I was in San Diego, California.&lt;br /&gt;Chris was stationed at Naval Air Station, North Island (Now Naval Base Coronado)&lt;br /&gt;Work started for him at 6 in the morning, so with the rush hour commute he usually left our home around 5.&lt;br /&gt;On his way to work he listened to the greatest radio &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;dj's&lt;/span&gt; in existence. Jeff and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Jer&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;They were doing their normal morning routine when all of a sudden they announced "we're getting reports of a small plane crashing into the World Trade Center"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chris listened....but assumed it was an accident. Still he was interested. He got to work and gave me a call. He knows I'm a news junkie and that Gracie would be waking up soon so he wanted me to know about the developing story out of New York City.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I was on the phone with him I turned on the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;tv&lt;/span&gt; to the news. Within minutes the second plane hit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I could say was "Oh my God.....Oh my God!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chris realizing quicker than I had that this was no accident and he was on an air base in the military said he had to go....his final words to me in that conversation was "this is going to be bad"&lt;br /&gt;I hung up the phone and quickly dialed my Mom in Oregon. She turned on the news, then hung up so she could call and tell my Grandmother the news.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sat there, on my living room floor watching the events unfold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I talked to Chris shortly after the first tower fell. I was talking to him when the second one came down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't believe it. I honestly couldn't believe what I was seeing on the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;tv&lt;/span&gt; screen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The base was being shut down. Only essential personal were allowed to stay. The downfall to my husband being a computer guru...he was essential personal. We had no idea when he would be allowed to leave the base. One thing was for sure, Gracie and I were alone in our house in San Diego...without a car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Call after call came in from concerned friends and family. My Aunt in Salt Lake City was getting ready to drive to San Diego and pick Gracie and I up. My Grandmother was on the phone trying to get me a train ticket or rental car so I could go "Home" to Oregon where it was safe. A good friend who lived in Long Beach desperately wanted to come down and get Gracie and I.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By this time the Pentagon and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Shanksville&lt;/span&gt;, PA had happened. More planes were still in the air. I know, I lived under the flight patterns in San Diego.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I watched out my window as planes were diverted to Mexico. I watched fighter jets "escort" incoming passenger planes. I listened as the constant hum of the air traffic became an infrequent interruption...startling me every time until finally the only sound was the occasional military jet or helicopter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chris told me from his perspective, he watched as military planes were being sent up so quickly they did it two at a time, one right after the last. He watched as the blips on the radar screens in the tower slowly started to disappear until finally there was nothing in the air.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later that evening I walked outside my home. I needed air, I needed to get out. I felt trapped and just needed to walk away from the scenes on the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;tv&lt;/span&gt; for a moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something strange happened. Many of my neighbors had apparently had the same idea. There was a decent handful of people just standing out there. People from every walk of life. Military families, waring gang members, college students, quick mart employees. Black, White, Mexican, Indian. It was indeed an American quilt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People I never spoke to before that day. People I more than likely, never even looked in the eye before that day.&lt;br /&gt;There we were, outside just staring. Each and every one of us was effected. We must have looked like a group of zombies wandering the street.&lt;br /&gt;We looked at each other. Introduced ourselves, Shook each others hands. Hugged. Cried together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I watched something truly amazing. There with our group were two neighbors. They came from rival gangs and I normally avoided them. They I would assume, avoided each other as well.&lt;br /&gt;As one walked toward our little party, the other walked toward him, held out his hand and said "not today brother, not today" The first one took his hand, and they hugged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I learned something in that moment. Something so profound that hasn't left me since. We are all Americans. We may disagree, or live vastly different lives but ultimately we are of the same family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately most Americans have forgotten the lesson. For a few months following the events of 9/11 we were one big family. I don't know when we collectively forgot that truth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just hope we can collectively remember before another 9/11 reminds us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God Bless the USA and God Bless the men and women of American Airlines Flight, 11, United Airlines Flight 75, American Airlines Flight 77 and the heroes of United Flight 93.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Firefighters, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;EMT's&lt;/span&gt; and Police, the office workers and the military who gave their lives that day.&lt;br /&gt;I will never forget September 11, 2001.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4482076110833618196-4524153143289958845?l=abpsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/4524153143289958845/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4482076110833618196&amp;postID=4524153143289958845&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/4524153143289958845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/4524153143289958845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/2009/09/where-were-you-8-years-ago-today.html' title='Where Were You 8 Years Ago Today?'/><author><name>Kristine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16672271400402571917</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SZs49nqGe-I/AAAAAAAAACg/cyJ1kiAKWPs/S220/wed5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4482076110833618196.post-5866975332584772681</id><published>2009-08-27T14:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-27T14:35:06.194-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gracie'/><title type='text'>Sporting Some Serious Bling!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/Spb7zcDYo7I/AAAAAAAAAEY/Q5NZ8L-7uZo/s1600-h/P8270004.JPG"&gt;&lt;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/_iu23oEZXgbg/Spb7zcDYo7I/AAAAAAAAAEY/Q5NZ8L-7uZo/s320/P8270004.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374760066435556274" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today my 8 year old daughter got braces. &lt;br /&gt;Yes...I agree, they are starting them early these day.&lt;br /&gt;For a plethora of reason, not the least of which is self esteem!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this morning, bright and early we headed to her Orthodontist. &lt;br /&gt;She was such a trooper! The appointment went really well. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After an hour or so, she had four bright and shiny braces on her teeth. &lt;br /&gt;Yep, that's all she needs (right now) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So she picked out her first set of bands...and her first colors. Teal, Purple and Pink.&lt;br /&gt;Very...uh....colorful!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that I decided to treat her to an extra special occasion day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See, she has wanted her ears pierced for years now. So we headed to the mall.&lt;br /&gt;She picked out her earrings, sat in the chair and waited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girl at the store did the first ear and Gracie looked at me like I had just shot her in the foot! Shocked and in pain. &lt;br /&gt;Second ear...she managed to sit still but as soon as it was over she let out a couple "Ow's" and "that hurt!" A few tear fell but all in all she did awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the time we were back in the parking lot, all was forgotten (the stop at the ice cream place might have helped too)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we were pulling away from the mall she commented "NOW I'M SPORTING SOME SERIOUS BLING!"&lt;br /&gt;Followed by...."I'm just a metal head now" To which I laughed, because I think that has a totally different meaning to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now she's had some lunch and said she was hurting a little.&lt;br /&gt;She was laying down watching tv for a while then came up to me and said "my teeth hurt, but I think they would feel better if we went to Toys R' Us"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good try...and she might be right. After all she has endured two holes in her head, and metal things glued to her teeth and pulled together. A trip to Toys R' Us might be just what the doctor ordered!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4482076110833618196-5866975332584772681?l=abpsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/5866975332584772681/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4482076110833618196&amp;postID=5866975332584772681&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/5866975332584772681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/5866975332584772681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/2009/08/sporting-some-serious-bling.html' title='Sporting Some Serious Bling!'/><author><name>Kristine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16672271400402571917</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SZs49nqGe-I/AAAAAAAAACg/cyJ1kiAKWPs/S220/wed5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/Spb7zcDYo7I/AAAAAAAAAEY/Q5NZ8L-7uZo/s72-c/P8270004.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4482076110833618196.post-4713521889094760276</id><published>2009-08-24T15:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-27T14:40:32.887-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><title type='text'>an Open letter for Kori on Motherhood</title><content type='html'>My cousin Kori is about to embark on the most exhilarating ride of her life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She is going to give birth to her very first child...a daughter. Tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I adore my cousin. Her Mom isn't here to guide her. So I'm doing what I can (from 1000 miles away) to be there for her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today she told me they are going to induce her tomorrow morning. I tried to explain to her in a short email what to expect and what will change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't do it justice...so I'll try again here.&lt;br /&gt;Having a child means never putting yourself first again....and you wouldn't want it any other way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having a child means for the first time in your life, you understand what "Unconditional Love" really means.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your perspective of the world changes, the moment you bring that child home. Things that never crossed your mind before, consume you.&lt;br /&gt;Like...is the kitchen tile cleaner going to harm her? I wonder what sort of chemicals are in the carpet? Are there any sex offenders living in my neighborhood? City? County?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An interesting change. Before children, you could go out and meet "people" and strike up a conversation. Once you have children, "people" are "strangers" and Strangers mean danger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nice young mothers, with children of their own are the only "safe" people you will talk to anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your world, your life and you will change the moment she is born. You've heard this before and it sounds a little scary...but I promise, it's worth it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You will forget what life was like without her. You won't be able to imagine it. The world didn't exist until she was born.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anything regarding a hurt, lost, hungry or homeless child will affect you. In ways it never did before. It sounds a little hippy but, you become a part of a larger family.&lt;br /&gt;Motherhood is a condition. You can't turn it off. Every child that yells "Mom" in a store has 40 Mothers turn their head. We can't help it. You will be a part of our club.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember you have a family and friends who love you, Cameron and the baby. We are here. Sleep when she sleeps and enjoy the little things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They grow up before you know it. You blink and wonder, "what happened to my baby" so enjoy the everyday moments while you can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is a fun, fascinating and sometimes scary ride, but in the end it's the best one you will ever take.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you my dear cousin and I can't wait to hold my "niece"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;UPDATE:&lt;/span&gt; Kori had a beautiful baby girl on August 27. After almost two days of labor! Mommy and baby Ashlin are doing great.&lt;br /&gt;We love you Kori, Cameron and Ashlin Jean!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4482076110833618196-4713521889094760276?l=abpsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/4713521889094760276/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4482076110833618196&amp;postID=4713521889094760276&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/4713521889094760276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/4713521889094760276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/2009/08/open-letter-for-kori-on-motherhood.html' title='an Open letter for Kori on Motherhood'/><author><name>Kristine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16672271400402571917</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SZs49nqGe-I/AAAAAAAAACg/cyJ1kiAKWPs/S220/wed5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4482076110833618196.post-9098450314345489294</id><published>2009-08-24T15:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-24T15:58:15.856-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vacation'/><title type='text'>School, Seattle and Hackers Oh My!</title><content type='html'>Wow, it's been a while. &lt;br /&gt;I have been so bad about staying on top of this with Chris home. It seems we are constantly busy with day trips, yard work and various other fun things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, last weekend Chris and I got away. I had won a night at a fabulous 5 star hotel in their luxury suite. Very nice. We were greeted on a first name basis by the concierge. He invited us to the wine tasting that evening. And had a bottle of VERY nice champagne waiting for us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The suite was unbelievable. Half the size of my house! Canopy bed, top floor and a great view of the city. &lt;br /&gt;That evening we went to the wine tasting...then enjoyed dinner at Benihana. The next morning we played tourist. A very strange thing to do in the city I grew up in. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to Pike Place and I showed off my knowledge of great little hole in the wall Chinese places as well as how to get away from all the tourists and find the really cool little shops hidden underneath. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also showed off my skills by ducking not one, but two flying fish at the fish market. Yes indeed, I was told I MUST be a local...as I didn't even look to see where the fish were coming from I just knew to duck when I hear the humming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, we had a great time. However during that same time, Chris' facebook account was hacked. Some bastard decided to log in as him and actually told people...Chris' brother included, that he was stuck in LONDON, had been mugged and needed money. Unfortunately...someone fell for it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I have to say...it was the nicest thing in the world to want to help Chris out. I feel really awful for him because he was scammed. But it's a lesson learned for everyone. If a friend chats with you on Facebook and tells you they were mugged and are stuck in London...do NOT send money! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a consequence, Chris has canceled his facebook account. Sometimes I really hate people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a different subject....Gracie is about to start third grade. Seriously! Where did the time go?&lt;br /&gt;A big third grader.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But before that big day, she has another one. Thursday she will be getting braces! Yep...they get them early these days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She is getting the top front four teeth. In a year, she will have straight, together teeth! Hooray! She's excited and a little scared. Luckily, she knows a boy in her class who already has braces. He's a super cute, sweet kid so they will have something else to talk about now!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As soon as she has her new metal I will post a picture of her bright and shiny smile.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4482076110833618196-9098450314345489294?l=abpsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/9098450314345489294/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4482076110833618196&amp;postID=9098450314345489294&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/9098450314345489294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/9098450314345489294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/2009/08/school-seattle-and-hackers-oh-my.html' title='School, Seattle and Hackers Oh My!'/><author><name>Kristine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16672271400402571917</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SZs49nqGe-I/AAAAAAAAACg/cyJ1kiAKWPs/S220/wed5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4482076110833618196.post-4713110273432912224</id><published>2009-07-28T00:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-28T00:36:10.943-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='irish dance'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><title type='text'>My daughter, the Irish dancer!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/Sm6qZDBI3sI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/fluKdyQPbfY/s1600-h/cute+dancer.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/Sm6qZDBI3sI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/fluKdyQPbfY/s320/cute+dancer.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363411553528372930" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gracie danced in her very first performance on Saturday! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was amazing....and I'm not just saying that because I'm her Mom. She loved every second of it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's only been doing this for 4 months, but she's a natural!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so proud!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4482076110833618196-4713110273432912224?l=abpsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/4713110273432912224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4482076110833618196&amp;postID=4713110273432912224&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/4713110273432912224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/4713110273432912224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/2009/07/my-daughter-irish-dancer.html' title='My daughter, the Irish dancer!'/><author><name>Kristine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16672271400402571917</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SZs49nqGe-I/AAAAAAAAACg/cyJ1kiAKWPs/S220/wed5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/Sm6qZDBI3sI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/fluKdyQPbfY/s72-c/cute+dancer.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4482076110833618196.post-1054334497531020233</id><published>2009-07-12T19:26:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-12T19:53:52.674-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='military'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>Dolphins, Dance and Lightning</title><content type='html'>Oh my. It has been way to long. Sorry Melissa.&lt;br /&gt;So much has happened. I hardly know where to start!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most importantly, my husband came home from patrol. Hooray! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got to go out and meet up with the boat (along with some other wives) and ride it back in. It was a great trip out. Some of the finest ladies I know were there. We enjoyed our bus ride and subsequent boat ride to meet the submarine. Chatting happily and occasionally breaking into song. (Thanks Cara)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a few hours we met up with the sub. I boarded and was greeted down below by my handsome husband!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a sight that is!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gracie had won "first hug" so Chris was the first guy off the boat. Meaning she had to be there waiting when we got into port. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks to my wonderful friend Melissa she was not only there waiting for her hug, she watched the boat come into the canal while enjoying a fabulous picnic lunch. Thanks again Melissa! She still talks about it!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's fast forward a few weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gracie is preparing for her upcoming dance recital. Irish dance. We have been spending many, many hours driving back and fourth to Kingston for practice. But, being as she started Irish dance in March...she has advanced in class already and is a natural. Her teacher is really impressed with her. So and I....of course!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Fourth of July was spent first by watching the annual Third of July fireworks show in Poulsbo, which we can see from our neighborhood. Then on the Fourth, we went to our friends Dave and Carrie's for what has now become our tradition. You see, they were the very first "boat people" we met. They invited us last year, right after we moved here. Carrie and I became fast friends. At the party last year I was also introduced to a couple other wardroom wives. It was an amazing reception. They welcomed us with open arms and never in my life have I felt more welcome at a new duty station that I did here. Thanks Carrie!&lt;br /&gt;So, we naturally headed to their house again this year. What could be better than alcohol and explosives?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now on to this week. On Wednesday I had a nice dinner with some great friends. We were saying goodbye to two of our wardroom wives. I got to chat with some wonderful ladies and say my goodbyes to my friend Suzanne. (I'm going to miss you!!!!) Who is off to Hawaii.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Thursday I was invited by the Captain to join my husband at quarters so I could do the honor of pinning on his "Dolphins." Probably the single most important event in a submarine officers career. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He not only got his dolphins, he did it faster than anyone. I'm bragging, I know. But I am tremendously proud of him! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gracie and I were there, standing with Chris in front of the entire boat to do the honors. It was so exciting! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those are the highlights of the past month and a half. Yesterday and today we have enjoyed nonstop rain and thunderstorms. It has been wonderful! Up until yesterday, it has been sunny and hot. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh rain, how I love thee...let us never be apart!&lt;br /&gt;I also missed a really good thunderstorm. The only redeeming quality of the South. So it has been an added bonus to see the flash and hear the crack of lightning.&lt;br /&gt;Gracie also has been able to play her favorite game from when we lived in Charleston. 1, 2, 3.....lightning!!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rules are simple. You count to three and say lightning and try to say lightning as it's flashing. Works a lot better down there than it does here...but she has given it the college try!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, I think that sums up all the highlights for now. &lt;br /&gt;Wow...sorry I've been so distracted lately! That happens with the guys get home I guess. I'll try not to make it a habit!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4482076110833618196-1054334497531020233?l=abpsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/1054334497531020233/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4482076110833618196&amp;postID=1054334497531020233&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/1054334497531020233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/1054334497531020233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/2009/07/dolphins-dance-and-lightning.html' title='Dolphins, Dance and Lightning'/><author><name>Kristine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16672271400402571917</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SZs49nqGe-I/AAAAAAAAACg/cyJ1kiAKWPs/S220/wed5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4482076110833618196.post-2105897231466990804</id><published>2009-07-10T00:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-10T00:15:53.092-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>For Melissa</title><content type='html'>Ok...I have been really bad about posting lately. I was kindly reminded by my dear friend Melissa that it's been well over a month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have good reason. My husband came home from patrol, Gracie finished second grade and a whole bunch of other stuff that I can't think of at the moment. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See, this is why I should update more often...I know, I know. I just ruined my whole point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a super exciting update to tell you...Melissa...you already know.&lt;br /&gt;But I don't have the time or energy to tell you everything tonight..so you will have to wait another day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I promise, it's worth it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there you have it...I updated...sort of. I promise to get a real update ASAP...after I go to a Sensaria party tomorrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4482076110833618196-2105897231466990804?l=abpsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/2105897231466990804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4482076110833618196&amp;postID=2105897231466990804&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/2105897231466990804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/2105897231466990804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/2009/07/for-melissa.html' title='For Melissa'/><author><name>Kristine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16672271400402571917</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SZs49nqGe-I/AAAAAAAAACg/cyJ1kiAKWPs/S220/wed5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4482076110833618196.post-4099851969285786607</id><published>2009-05-26T12:10:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-26T12:23:33.885-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>Doctors make the best neighbors</title><content type='html'>As I stated before, I have been sick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My allergies are trying to kill me slowly with as much torture possible.&lt;br /&gt;I called the doctors office to make an appointment but, due in large part to the Swine Flu pandemic, was told there were no available appointments until the middle of June.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, that's just crazy. Seeing as it was like the 20th of May or something. By June 12th I would be either dead, my allergies finally winning the battle for my soul OR the problem would have already corrected itself after a long and agonizing fight with my sinuses. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I was talking to my neighbor about the problem. His wife is a doctor. Not just any doctor...a NAVY doctor. He called her (she was working at the time) and she said "come in at 3 and I'll see you"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3:00 I made a visit to my favorite neighbor where she checked me out. My ear drum was attempting to free itself from the confines of my ear, but no infection. Good!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It turns out it was an allergy problem all along. She gave me five different kinds of medication. One for congestion, one for coughing and three for allergies. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah...sweet Zyrtec. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Gods have smiled on me in the form of Zyrtec and Flonase. However, I do find Flonase insulting. Not because I have to squirt it up my nose, but because it mocks me by smelling like lilacs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the plus side, it is the very first time in my entire life I have smelled lilacs without sneezing. Win!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So in conclusion, if you are in the market for a new house. I strongly suggest you find one with a doctor next door. It will simplify your life drastically! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you Shannon for being the most awesome neighbor....and doctor on the planet. I'm totally going to buy you a houseplant that now, thanks to you, won't make me sneeze!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4482076110833618196-4099851969285786607?l=abpsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/4099851969285786607/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4482076110833618196&amp;postID=4099851969285786607&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/4099851969285786607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/4099851969285786607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/2009/05/doctors-make-best-neighbors.html' title='Doctors make the best neighbors'/><author><name>Kristine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16672271400402571917</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SZs49nqGe-I/AAAAAAAAACg/cyJ1kiAKWPs/S220/wed5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4482076110833618196.post-7406000533484222372</id><published>2009-05-21T21:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-21T22:26:07.856-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>Angry Porcupines and various other things.</title><content type='html'>So this will be short and sweet. and By sweet I mean...sort of that biting equal taste.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still sick. Yesterday I had a very angry porcupine take up residence in my esophagus. Today I feel like the angry porcupine has now enlisted a bulldozer and one of those large combine tracker thingys to do some digging in my throat. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They also seem to be rather unhappy with my ability to still form words and are working double shifts to remove my vocal cords.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They have dug out a subway system in my right ear canal. I think however, they hit a water main because it's now all plugged up and has that, hearing through&lt;br /&gt;water sort of thing going on. (was that to much information?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luckily, they can never take my fingers. Ha! I'll show them!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the positive side of the illness, I have been named the official "coolest mom on the planet" by the only kid that matters. Mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because of my stellar mothering skills, we went to Dairy Queen for dinner. Her "dinner" consisted of a sprite and an oreo brownie earthquake sundae.&lt;br /&gt;Oh yeah....bask in my superior skills.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, because of my extended illness, I have watched way to much tv in bed today. However, I am considering using some our savings and hiring Empire flooring. Right now they are having a buy 1 get 2 free sale. The Sham Wow is also growing on me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok...I'm babbling. I have absolutely nothing of importance to say today because quite frankly....my brain has decided to take a vacation. I hope it went someplace warm and is enjoying it's self.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4482076110833618196-7406000533484222372?l=abpsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/7406000533484222372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4482076110833618196&amp;postID=7406000533484222372&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/7406000533484222372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/7406000533484222372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/2009/05/angry-porcupines-and-various-other.html' title='Angry Porcupines and various other things.'/><author><name>Kristine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16672271400402571917</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SZs49nqGe-I/AAAAAAAAACg/cyJ1kiAKWPs/S220/wed5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4482076110833618196.post-8354078900289023981</id><published>2009-05-09T16:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-09T16:43:30.967-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='geek stuff'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='star trek'/><title type='text'>Trekkie 12 step</title><content type='html'>Hi, my name is Kristine and I am a closet geek.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hi Kristine!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The new Star trek movie is out!&lt;br /&gt;I must see this movie, but I promised my husband, who has been open and embracing of his geekyness, I would wait until he returned from sea. Argh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's taunting me in previews on tv, and the interwebs. Not to mention, I keep hearing reviews from both paid critics and just critical friends, who claim it's not only good but "It's AWESOME!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Must see movie.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4482076110833618196-8354078900289023981?l=abpsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/8354078900289023981/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4482076110833618196&amp;postID=8354078900289023981&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/8354078900289023981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/8354078900289023981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/2009/05/trekkie-12-step.html' title='Trekkie 12 step'/><author><name>Kristine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16672271400402571917</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SZs49nqGe-I/AAAAAAAAACg/cyJ1kiAKWPs/S220/wed5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4482076110833618196.post-5809345285651995089</id><published>2009-05-09T16:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-09T16:37:30.353-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friends'/><title type='text'>Anniversary and Friends</title><content type='html'>This past week I celebrated my 10th wedding anniversary.&lt;br /&gt;As you are aware, my husband is somewhere in the briny deep playing hide and seek.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I spent the day with friends. One friend in particular. Carrie. &lt;br /&gt;But I'm getting ahead of myself here.&lt;br /&gt;First things first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Renee came by on Wednesday with the most beautiful bouquet of flowers I have ever seen. Along with the greatest basket filled full of Starbucks and various other coffee treasures. Then, to top it off....she made the greatest cheesecake I have ever had.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok friends, take a gander at this....Starbucks espresso. Lots of it. Rich dark chocolate...even more of that and cheesecake. Put them all together and you have what I like to call "heaven" because I truly believe this is what God and the angels eat daily. &lt;br /&gt;Damn, I'm hungry now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, Friday Mayday. I head out to spend the day with my friend Carrie. Her Mom has a heart problem and was having some tests done. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I meet up with her and we head to breakfast where she insisted on picking up the tab.&lt;br /&gt;Then Old Navy where I learned that on the first of every month is military appreciation day! You save 10% with you ID. &lt;br /&gt;I saved $14. Yeah, She didn't pick up the tab on that one :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhoo...then we headed to Target. Then the mall. She needed luggage for her upcoming family vacation.&lt;br /&gt;Finally her moms tests were done and we parted ways. two hours later, I met back up with Carrie this time with kids in tow at Red Robin.&lt;br /&gt;We were met by our friend Sharon and her adorable kids and our friend Becky. &lt;br /&gt;We had a great dinner. Chatting and enjoying the company.&lt;br /&gt;Seems like a great full circle somehow. The first time I met any of these women was at my welcome dinner for the wardroom wives which was here, at Red Robin!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally we headed back to my house because Carrie had bought a cake to celebrate! It looked like a mini wedding cake. With bows and pearls and hearts. It was pink on pink (or is that blush and bashful) and It was AWESOME!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the end of the evening I realized I had gone the entire day, busy from the moment I woke up. I didn't have a single moment to be sad that Chris was deployed. I truly enjoyed the day.&lt;br /&gt;Thanks Carrie, Sharon, Becky and Renee! You made this an anniversary I won't forget!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4482076110833618196-5809345285651995089?l=abpsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/5809345285651995089/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4482076110833618196&amp;postID=5809345285651995089&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/5809345285651995089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/5809345285651995089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/2009/05/anniversary-and-friends.html' title='Anniversary and Friends'/><author><name>Kristine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16672271400402571917</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SZs49nqGe-I/AAAAAAAAACg/cyJ1kiAKWPs/S220/wed5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4482076110833618196.post-3753470872764442281</id><published>2009-04-29T12:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-29T13:25:17.471-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>10 Years</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/Sfi24rJsfnI/AAAAAAAAAEA/-ceGVYDdS2g/s1600-h/sepiakiss.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 192px; height: 288px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/Sfi24rJsfnI/AAAAAAAAAEA/-ceGVYDdS2g/s320/sepiakiss.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330211243765300850" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10 years ago I married the man of my dreams. &lt;br /&gt;In a little brick church, in a valley in the mountains.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I met my husband at work. &lt;br /&gt;You see, my boss Renate, at the store where I worked, changed jobs to Wal-Mart of all places and she begged and pleaded with me to come work for her there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stood my ground and told her no way was I going to give up my relatively cool job with awesome discount perks to go work in the jewelry department at Wal-Mart!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She persisted and finally won me over with the prospect of health care, a bigger paycheck and really good looking guys in the next department.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alas, I gave in....despite my better judgment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On my very first day at my new job, my friend Justin was giving me a tour of all the departments. Directly across the aisle from my department was electronics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boy was Renate right. There were some seriously good looking guys in that department....this job may not be half bad!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was introduced to them and this one tall blond and beautiful man stood out from the group. Justin informed me his name was "Stick." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stick? Ok. Obviously a nickname and it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out it had something to do with his 6'4" 165 lbs. body. He did resemble a stick quite a bit.&lt;br /&gt;So a little time passes and I become friends with the electronics department boys. "Stick" is very flirty, amazingly smart, unbelievably handsome and super sweet to boot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a serious crush.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally one day he asks me out to a movie. We had a large group of friends from work that we hung out with, and I half assumed they would be joining us. But when the time came it was just "Stick" and I.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can still remember the butterflies in my stomach when I saw him standing there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our first date. We saw Contact. After the movie we went out to the marsh and watched Hale Bopp. Remember that comet? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now lets fast forward a year. Same place. It's late at night because I had to close. It's pouring down rain. Stick, who I now call Chris picks me up from work. He packed a romantic picnic dinner of Taco Bell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We park and eat our dinner. Finally he pulls a box out of his coat pocket and hands it to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife" those were his words. I didn't even open the box and tears were streaming down my face as I screamed YES!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, fast forward another year. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May 1, 1999. 6:30 PM on a Saturday. In a little brick church, in a valley in the mountains, by candlelight and with 350 witnesses I vowed to love him forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After we were married our lives drastically changed. He enlisted the Navy four months after our wedding. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We moved to Chicago for a year while he was in school. I got pregnant. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We moved to San Diego, California for four years. We had a baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We moved to Pullman, Washington for three years, for college. He was commissioned an officer in the Navy and accepted to the submarine program. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We moved to Charleston, South Carolina for a year and a half while he went through nuclear schools.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally we moved to Poulsbo, Washington and bought a home. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Through it all we grew stronger. Every hurdle he jumped, he did for us. Every day of hard work he put in, he did it for our little family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday is our 10 year anniversary. And that man I said "I do" to is still the most handsome and wonderful man on Earth. He is my world. I am so grateful to have the honor of saying I am his Wife.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So today I am looking at the pictures of a gray Saturday evening. In a little brick church, in a valley in the mountains where I vowed to love him forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Anniversary Chris. I love you forever.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4482076110833618196-3753470872764442281?l=abpsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/3753470872764442281/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4482076110833618196&amp;postID=3753470872764442281&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/3753470872764442281'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/3753470872764442281'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/2009/04/10-years.html' title='10 Years'/><author><name>Kristine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16672271400402571917</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SZs49nqGe-I/AAAAAAAAACg/cyJ1kiAKWPs/S220/wed5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/Sfi24rJsfnI/AAAAAAAAAEA/-ceGVYDdS2g/s72-c/sepiakiss.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4482076110833618196.post-7544348388158375616</id><published>2009-04-25T17:37:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-25T17:54:36.050-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Navy'/><title type='text'>4 out of 5 bartenders will agree that Navy wives have more fun!</title><content type='html'>Last night I spent a few fun filled hours chatting up some of my bestest submariner wives. (Holly, why can't you move back?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a little get together at a fantastic Mexican place in Port Orchard. Lots of food, margaritas, and fun. The perfect recipe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Carrie and I were identical twins. So 7th grade, I know. I swear to God we didn't call each other and plan it out.&lt;br /&gt;But we both showed up wearing matching jeans, matching red Kentucky polo's and white shirts underneath. Yep. Identical. So what did we do? We sat next to each other of course! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About 40 of us showed. Unfortunately there was a really small wardroom turnout. Only four of us. That was depressing seeing as I only know a handful of the enlisted wives and a couple of the wardroom wives are leaving our little club soon so I will miss them!&lt;br /&gt;None the less, we made the best of it and had tons of fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had door prizes and I won a spa set. Which I think I will use tonight.  &lt;br /&gt;Carrie won basically the same thing. Twinsies again! &lt;br /&gt;Becks won...something that I can't remember and Kim won a Starbucks gift card. Meanie. I should have been twinsies with her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was obnoxiously loud and the alcohol was flowing.&lt;br /&gt;Finally the party started to wind down. Some of the ladies decided to take the party to a local bar. They kidnapped the captains wife and took her with them! She wasn't complaining, however.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decided to head home seeing as I live a good half hour away. &lt;br /&gt;Happily I can report everyone made it home safely and a good time was had by all.&lt;br /&gt;Can't wait until the next one!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4482076110833618196-7544348388158375616?l=abpsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/7544348388158375616/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4482076110833618196&amp;postID=7544348388158375616&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/7544348388158375616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/7544348388158375616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/2009/04/4-out-of-5-bartenders-will-agree-that.html' title='4 out of 5 bartenders will agree that Navy wives have more fun!'/><author><name>Kristine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16672271400402571917</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SZs49nqGe-I/AAAAAAAAACg/cyJ1kiAKWPs/S220/wed5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4482076110833618196.post-2825292370084952864</id><published>2009-04-23T18:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-23T19:07:11.365-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>Three cheers for the Navy!!!</title><content type='html'>Hip hip hooray!&lt;br /&gt;Let me tell you a little story about my friend Stacy. &lt;br /&gt;She and I met in Idaho while our husbands were in college. Both of them were in the seaman to admiral program at the University of Idaho.&lt;br /&gt;We spent three years shopping, gossiping and getting manicures. We were like totally college co-eds!&lt;br /&gt;Well, coeds with kids....disturbing isn't it?&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, we quickly because the best of friends. Finally the day came that we had to part. Chris graduated and we moved to South Carolina. I was sad to say the least.&lt;br /&gt;6 months later, Anthony graduated and they moved to Virginia. Lucky for me (but not for them) Stacy and the boys had to spend the first 6 months in Florida because they didn't have a house in Virginia yet and Anthony was heading out to sea for two to three weeks at a time.&lt;br /&gt;So Stacy had to drive back and fourth between the two. Guess what's directly in between Florida and Virginia...I'll give you a hint My old house!&lt;br /&gt;So I got to see her once in a while, but eventually they bought a home and her parents moved away from Florida and her travels up and down the Atlantic coast were over. then I moved again. This time to the opposite side of the country.&lt;br /&gt;But, Stacy had other problems then my moved cross country.&lt;br /&gt;but that all changed last week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, her husband has been deployed for over 7 months. In that time Stacy had a baby. Sweet little Hunter. Who is no longer little as he was born a month after his Dad deployed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well Anthony, Stacy's husband has returned! He finally came home where he was reunited with Stacy, their two older boys and the newest member of their little family. That new member is crawling, has teeth and eats solid food now...but that doesn't matter now because Anthony is Home!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So everything is hunky dory at their house. I'm naturally thrilled for her. &lt;br /&gt;However I'm more excited because the Navy also decided to give Anthony a welcome home gift. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;New orders.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To WASHINGTON! You heard me. They will be living not 10 miles form me. And, no short ferry ride either. Nope. He will be stationed on this side of the pond!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My manicure and Starbucks buddy will be here this fall!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;I'm so excited.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4482076110833618196-2825292370084952864?l=abpsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/2825292370084952864/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4482076110833618196&amp;postID=2825292370084952864&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/2825292370084952864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/2825292370084952864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/2009/04/three-cheers-for-navy.html' title='Three cheers for the Navy!!!'/><author><name>Kristine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16672271400402571917</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SZs49nqGe-I/AAAAAAAAACg/cyJ1kiAKWPs/S220/wed5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4482076110833618196.post-6085909525169340247</id><published>2009-04-05T18:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-05T19:29:16.530-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>You Are My Sunshine.....You Make Me Happy, When Skies Are Clear....</title><content type='html'>Today was absolutely gorgeous here in the Pacific Northwest. I mean, Hawaii would be jealous, gorgeous. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The temperature was a warm 65 and the sky was deep blue and sun was brilliant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's days like this that make everyone love the NW. Yes, we have our rain and that keeps everything nice and green. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But days like today are like our own private reward for being tolerant and biding our time in the rain. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is no place on the planet more beautiful than Seattle (and the Olympic Peninsula) on a sunny day. Hands down. And I have lived in a LOT of traditionally sunny places, where people spend lots of money to go on fabulous vacations because of the sun and palm trees.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nope, they've got nothing on the Pacific Northwest. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So thank you Mr. Sun for gracing us with your presence today. You have been dearly missed and we are so happy to have you back. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a totally related side note...due to the presence of the big shiny yellow orb, the flowers, trees and grass have decided to wake up from their long winters nap. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, this is very pretty...it also causes massive headaches due to my severe allergies to all things native to my home. &lt;br /&gt;This caused many problems when I was a child...something I conveniently forgot when I was desperate to move back home. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I will have to make an appointment with my doctor and get some good allergy medication because I don't plan on leaving my paradise any time soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4482076110833618196-6085909525169340247?l=abpsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/6085909525169340247/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4482076110833618196&amp;postID=6085909525169340247&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/6085909525169340247'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/6085909525169340247'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/2009/04/you-are-my-sunshineyou-make-me-happy.html' title='You Are My Sunshine.....You Make Me Happy, When Skies Are Clear....'/><author><name>Kristine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16672271400402571917</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SZs49nqGe-I/AAAAAAAAACg/cyJ1kiAKWPs/S220/wed5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4482076110833618196.post-2084668346915431575</id><published>2009-04-04T21:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-04T21:47:04.786-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Holidays'/><title type='text'>Hippity Hoppity Easter's on it's way....</title><content type='html'>Today Gracie and I spent a fun filled morning with good friends. &lt;br /&gt;At the annual USS Kentucky Gold Easter Egg Hunt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gracie was thrilled to see her friends. One of which she saw all of three days ago...but you would have thought it had been years. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The festivities got underway around 10:30. The sun was shining and it actually looked like Spring. I know, I was shocked too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I watched the ducks in the pond and chatted with good friends while the kids played in the playground. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally they did the actual "hunting." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gracie only got 15 eggs but that's not because she was slow. No my daughter would find an egg, open it up and if the prize inside wasn't to her liking, she put it back together and threw it back on the ground for the next kid to pick up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I asked her "why" she was doing that her simple reply was "I don't want to get any crap like the football stickers in that last one"&lt;br /&gt;Finally after a few eggs that were "Gracie approved" were in her basket, she started just picking them up without the inspection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the egg hunt, Gracie and I headed to the mall. She desperately needed new jeans. We went to Penney's (Why do I feel like my Grandmother whenever I say that?) and bought a few really cute bedazzled pairs and some capris.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We lunched in the food court. Nothing it to good for my daughter. Then she got her picture taken with the Easter Bunny. I hate to admit it, but it was $20 well spent. Super cute picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that we headed home where she enjoyed what was left of the sunshine, outside with the neighbor kids. The temp was only 50 at it's peak today, but the blue sky was pretending to be closer to 70.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After an hour or so outside, a frantic neighbor boy tears into my house "Mrs. Abplanalp, Gracie fell in the pond!!!" Naturally I have visions of the worst in my head. Once I got over to her, it was her pride that was wounded, nothing else. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was wet, head to toe. Dripping wet. I covered her up in my sweatshirt and got her home and into a warm bath. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She is perfectly fine now, but her clothes are soaking in the washer as we speak because you should see the layer of mud she brought out the the pond with her. Ugh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all it's been a perfectly pleasant day. Even Gracie thinks so...once she warmed up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4482076110833618196-2084668346915431575?l=abpsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/2084668346915431575/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4482076110833618196&amp;postID=2084668346915431575&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/2084668346915431575'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/2084668346915431575'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/2009/04/hippity-hoppity-easters-on-its-way.html' title='Hippity Hoppity Easter&apos;s on it&apos;s way....'/><author><name>Kristine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16672271400402571917</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SZs49nqGe-I/AAAAAAAAACg/cyJ1kiAKWPs/S220/wed5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4482076110833618196.post-3640679665583250254</id><published>2009-03-31T18:47:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-01T16:38:55.300-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='nature'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><title type='text'>V is for Volcanoes are awesome!!!</title><content type='html'>Well, not awesome with the massive destruction and spewing of hot rocks and choking ash.&lt;br /&gt;But awesome because they make the planes stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bad for the people on those plane sure.....But Great if one of those people is my extra super awesomely amazing sister-in-law who I haven't seen in a couple years!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Confused yet?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there I was sitting at the computer, reading the &lt;span style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;strike&gt;&lt;/strike&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strike&gt;news&lt;span style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strike&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;LoLCats&lt;/span&gt;, when my brother-in law called.&lt;br /&gt;Seems his wife and her sister are heading up to Alaska and were told "Nope, no way Jose. Mount Redoubt is blowing her top off as we speak"&lt;br /&gt;So after we talked briefly about the situation and my approximate distance to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;SeaTac&lt;/span&gt; airport my sister-in-law called.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She is currently trying to rebook her flight, but will most likely be spending at least the night at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Casa&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Abplanalp&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Yay&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you think she'll mind the full "slumber party" activities? Paint our nails, do our hair, make a fort in the living room?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A girl can dream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;UPDATE: &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Sadly, my awesomely amazing sissy was able to get on another flight and left before the slumber party.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt; Thankfully they made it safe and sound. I'll keep the party supplies for the next time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4482076110833618196-3640679665583250254?l=abpsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/3640679665583250254/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4482076110833618196&amp;postID=3640679665583250254&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/3640679665583250254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/3640679665583250254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/2009/03/v-is-for-volcanos-are-awesome.html' title='V is for Volcanoes are awesome!!!'/><author><name>Kristine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16672271400402571917</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SZs49nqGe-I/AAAAAAAAACg/cyJ1kiAKWPs/S220/wed5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4482076110833618196.post-8606945998232553097</id><published>2009-03-31T18:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-31T18:38:13.948-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='military'/><title type='text'>OPSEC Schmopsec</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SdK-3uKluuI/AAAAAAAAADg/o28nvtNhl0c/s1600-h/Episode36.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 405px; height: 135px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SdK-3uKluuI/AAAAAAAAADg/o28nvtNhl0c/s320/Episode36.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319523974372506338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                        Please click the above comic to get the full effect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, this is how the conversation goes. No, I am NOT lying when I say "I don't know"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;OPSEC&lt;/span&gt; is a very real and very omnipresent being who will sneak into our homes, steal our sugar and toss over our laundry baskets if we divulge any information.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know. Being that I live in the same house as him and am privy to all sort of personal information regarding Chris...the Navy doesn't seem to think I deserve that TS clearance. Therefore I am on a "NEED TO KNOW" basis. If they think I need to know, they might tell me. Otherwise, I am as clueless as the rest of you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course the are required to tell me when he is coming home. But I swear, many MANY times, I don't know until 24 hours in advance.&lt;br /&gt;If I don't call you as soon as I know...forgive me. It's not that you are being "ignored" or "deliberately left out" I promise...I'm not that mean. At least.....I'm not that mean when I know Chris is coming home :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he leaves quickly and without warning please understand that saying things like "does he even live there anymore" are hurtful and mean and simply show your lack of knowledge on how the military operates. That's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;, that's how they like you civilians to be. Clueless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, if he doesn't call you when he is shipping out with 24 hours notice...maybe it's because he wants to spend what precious few hours he has left with us, his family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So ends my lesson on "How the military doles out information to the families" If I've offended you...I am sorry, But then again....maybe you need to think about WHY you are offended.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I am sorry I can't tell you more. I am sorry I don't know when he can write you. Heck, I don't know when he can write ME or his daughter! I can tell you that submarines do NOT have telephones and therefore the chances of you getting a phone call are slim to not gonna happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A very special THANK YOU! to Julie &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Negron&lt;/span&gt;, the creator of "Jenny" the comic seen above! You should check her out at &lt;a href="http://jennyspouse.com/"&gt;http://jennyspouse.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4482076110833618196-8606945998232553097?l=abpsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/8606945998232553097/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4482076110833618196&amp;postID=8606945998232553097&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/8606945998232553097'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/8606945998232553097'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/2009/03/opsec-schmopsec.html' title='OPSEC Schmopsec'/><author><name>Kristine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16672271400402571917</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SZs49nqGe-I/AAAAAAAAACg/cyJ1kiAKWPs/S220/wed5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SdK-3uKluuI/AAAAAAAAADg/o28nvtNhl0c/s72-c/Episode36.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4482076110833618196.post-6502166467165987871</id><published>2009-03-25T18:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-25T18:54:47.743-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gracie'/><title type='text'>G is for....Gracie is Gifted!!!</title><content type='html'>Yes, you read that right!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Warning: Conspicuous &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Parental&lt;/span&gt; gloating. Read with caution! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I had my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;tri&lt;/span&gt;-annual parent teacher conference. You know, where you sit in little chairs in your child's classroom while the teacher tells you all about what they are learning, where they are strongest and where they need improvement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, so first I have to say I have serious "teacher anxiety." Some subconscious impulse in my brain tells me that I'm going to get in trouble for passing notes or whispering to Sarah. If I know the teacher well enough I get over it. Like Gracie's kindergarten teacher in Pullman was a good friend of mine and her kindergarten/first grade teacher in South Carolina I got to know on a first name basis after a year and a half working together. Not to mention she was almost a decade younger than me. I know, scary. But I digress....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gracie's second grade teacher....is much older than me and reminds me of a composite drawing of all my elementary school teachers combined.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there I am, sitting in the little chair at the little desk waiting to be told I can't pass notes anymore. We go over her papers. She's doing great in math, reads at a 6&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; grade level but I am assured that she can read much higher. Perhaps not comprehend the material but can read at an 9&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; grade level "at least." She told me the highest the test goes is sixth grade but Gracie is higher. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;...good. She reads 182 words a minute and can comprehend what she read. Good. Very good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She told me she is sensitive and mature, kind, considerate, organized, focused and responsible. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, I know most of these things...however the 8 year old girl who lives in this house hasn't cleaned her room in roughly 8 years, and is slightly &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;spastic&lt;/span&gt; and hyper. But I'm glad to know at school at least, she is "organized, focused and responsible." &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Especially&lt;/span&gt; considering my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;biggest&lt;/span&gt; gripe from teachers was I daydreamed to much and wasn't organized.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So far, so good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So then she tells me areas that need attention. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Handwriting&lt;/span&gt;. Surprise. It's a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;genetic&lt;/span&gt; trait. My husband writes like a brilliant doctor on crack and my teachers always got after me about sloppy penmanship. Her teacher noted that Gracie seems to be in a "race" to be done the fastest. So she writes sloppy in her effort to be first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Could be worse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then she pulls out the test scores. Recently they took a gifted program &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;cognitive&lt;/span&gt; abilities test. Guess what, Gracie is in the 98% in the nation!&lt;br /&gt;She is officially "gifted!" It's on her &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;permanent&lt;/span&gt; record and everything!&lt;br /&gt;As if I were somehow slow in comparison, she spelled it out for me. "If you take 100 random students from all over the country, she would be smarter than 98" I had to laugh a little. I'm sure the drool puddle and mouth agape may have made her think I wasn't the sharpest crayon in the box, but I assure you, I was just stunned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next year she will take part in their gifted student program and as her teacher kindly pointed out, is on the right path to "Harvard or MIT" Wow! MIT and she's only in second grade!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, so she will have to actually finish elementary school first. Then high school.....but Wow!&lt;br /&gt;My baby is like, all smart and stuff! I for some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;unknown&lt;/span&gt; reason am having a total Bill and Ted moment trying to describe it. But I am unbelievably proud of her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Congratulations Gracie! You Rock!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4482076110833618196-6502166467165987871?l=abpsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/6502166467165987871/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4482076110833618196&amp;postID=6502166467165987871&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/6502166467165987871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/6502166467165987871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/2009/03/g-is-forgracie-is-gifted.html' title='G is for....Gracie is Gifted!!!'/><author><name>Kristine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16672271400402571917</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SZs49nqGe-I/AAAAAAAAACg/cyJ1kiAKWPs/S220/wed5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4482076110833618196.post-957547298705624435</id><published>2009-03-24T11:23:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-24T11:39:30.080-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>Random Acts of Kindness</title><content type='html'>So I have been dying of a cold for the past 4 days. Ever since I watched my husbands sub pull away I've felt sick. Really, truly sick. Like the flu. Not he's leaving sick...but real I have a fever sick.&lt;br /&gt;Today I felt a tiny bit better and so decided to go to Starbucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there I am, waiting in the drive thru. The truck in front of me has USMC stickers and a "retired Marine" license plate frame. He also has various hunting stickers dotting the back window.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look at his mirror, he's looking back at my car. He smiled, I smiled. That was the end of our encounter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Mom is with me, so we order two venti drinks, an oatmeal and a slice of lemon loaf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to add, as he is at the window, I notice he hands the girl his travel mug. I'm pleasantly surprised that this retired Marine and avid hunter is also concerned with the environment. Surprise #1 of the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Mom and I are chatting away about little things.&lt;br /&gt;Finally it's my turn at the window. The girl had told me when I ordered that it would be $14.95. I have my Starbucks gold card ready to take off 10% when the girl at the window says&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, the man in the truck paid for yours. He said he wanted me to thank you for your smile and your service to our country"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What? He what? Ok, I have been to Starbucks many, many time while they are doing the "pay it forward" thingy. People pay for the car behind them. But never has it happened unprompted. Never once has someone genuinely wanted to pay for a strangers coffee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This Marine, when he smiled at me could see my DOD stickers on my windshield. Being a retired Marine, he actually knew what they meant. he knew that the blue sticker at the bottom means active duty officer. Not a civilian or contractor. Active duty. Real military.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I in turn played Pay it Forward. The car behind me was a $5 tab. So I paid it. Beats the $15 I was going to pay. I felt like sharing the wealth. Passing it along to another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could meet that Marine and thank him. His little random gesture meant so much to me. Chris deployed on Saturday. He had no way of knowing that...but our "Service to our Country" is felt that much more right now.&lt;br /&gt;You have no idea how heartwarming it is to be thanked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So thank you Random Retired Marine at the East Bremerton Starbucks Drive-thru. You have made my day.&lt;br /&gt;Now, go out there and thank a service member, or their spouse.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4482076110833618196-957547298705624435?l=abpsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/957547298705624435/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4482076110833618196&amp;postID=957547298705624435&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/957547298705624435'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/957547298705624435'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/2009/03/random-acts-of-kindness.html' title='Random Acts of Kindness'/><author><name>Kristine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16672271400402571917</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SZs49nqGe-I/AAAAAAAAACg/cyJ1kiAKWPs/S220/wed5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4482076110833618196.post-7046204309014790592</id><published>2009-03-21T14:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-21T15:21:56.325-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Navy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><title type='text'>God Speed Boys.....</title><content type='html'>Today is the day. The other woman aka the USS Kentucky took my husband on a Pacific cruise for a few months. Of course being a vengeful harpy, she decided he needed to leave his family at roughly the same time the bars close.&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say it was pitch black, cold and miserable when we dropped him off. The goodbyes went as smoothly as they can in that situation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chris and I do our very best to "rip the band-aid off quickly" as we like to say. In other words, we hate long goodbyes and getting teary eyed. So to an outsider, we look like it's just another day. A quick hug and kiss then he's off. To the rest of the world it may seem cold and unattached but it's how we cope with goodbyes. Not to mention, I have to teach my daughter that it's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt; to cry, but it's not &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt; to dwell on it. I know people who focus on the negative and teach their kids that it's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt; to get sympathy for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is our life. This is what we do. This way of life puts a roof over our heads, food on our table and clothes on our backs. It's normal to miss Daddy, but we have to deal with it. Stiff upper lip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gracie is awesome. She handles deployments like a trooper. I am so proud of her. She cried a little this morning, but was thrilled to see the sub leave and waved and yelled and was all smiles when her Daddy's boat went by. Don't get me wrong, she is a total Daddy's girl...but she is proud of him and what he does. She knows his job is important and doesn't resent him when he has to leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oops...I got sidetracked. Anyway, he is gone. Off to save the world and play hide and seek.&lt;br /&gt;Oh...did I mention he was driving the boat today? Yeah, he was. Pretty cool huh? That's an awesome sight, a submarine. Then top it off with "my husband is in control of that" Wow!!! How many people can say that?? Like .0000005 % of the worlds population? Yeah....I'm a little proud. Thanks for noticing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4482076110833618196-7046204309014790592?l=abpsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/7046204309014790592/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4482076110833618196&amp;postID=7046204309014790592&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/7046204309014790592'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/7046204309014790592'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/2009/03/god-speed-boys.html' title='God Speed Boys.....'/><author><name>Kristine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16672271400402571917</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SZs49nqGe-I/AAAAAAAAACg/cyJ1kiAKWPs/S220/wed5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4482076110833618196.post-3905095337278612905</id><published>2009-03-19T10:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-19T11:17:38.021-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><title type='text'>Fun with the Fishes</title><content type='html'>Yesterday I chaperoned Gracie's class field trip to the aquarium.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;100 second graders (5 classes), a ferry boat, a five block walk and a crowded public building filled with hundreds of others second graders. That my friends is a recipe for fun and excitement!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was lucky. I had Gracie and three of her closest friends in my group. So it wasn't so bad. But man alive, what a zoo.&lt;br /&gt;The aquarium has undergone some renovations and looks fantastic. A lot of the place is the same as I remember when I was little and driving my own Mom crazy on a field trip, but so much has changed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;The&lt;/span&gt; kids loved the sea lions, otters and harbor seals. They played and hammed it up for the kids. That was a treat. The touch pool was another hit. Lots of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;ewwww's&lt;/span&gt; and yucks when they touched the sea cucumbers and starfish. The Giant Pacific Octopus was another big hit. He tried to climb out of the mammoth tank, much to the delight of my daughter and her friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also learned a few things. On the ferry ride home one of Gracie's friends told me that his Mom never volunteered for anything at school because "her job is to important." So I asked him where she worked. He told me the name of a Doctor's office locally and I replied that "yes, a doctor is a very important job and people really need her to be at work" you know, trying to make him feel better. He then &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;replied&lt;/span&gt; "oh she's not a doctor, she sits at a desk and plays on the computer and talks to people on the phone all day" then he took a long pause and added "come to think of it, that's not very important because that's what she does at home too"&lt;br /&gt;So I think I just sent this poor boy into a sudden realization that his Mom doesn't take an active interest in him or his school. Oops!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than early therapy for the friend...it was a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;successful&lt;/span&gt; day. Gracie and I had a great time and plan to get back there very soon. It was a lot of walking and my thighs are angry with me and currently not speaking to me, but they'll get over it and thank me for the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;exercise&lt;/span&gt; when they feel better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4482076110833618196-3905095337278612905?l=abpsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/3905095337278612905/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4482076110833618196&amp;postID=3905095337278612905&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/3905095337278612905'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/3905095337278612905'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/2009/03/fun-with-fishes.html' title='Fun with the Fishes'/><author><name>Kristine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16672271400402571917</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SZs49nqGe-I/AAAAAAAAACg/cyJ1kiAKWPs/S220/wed5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4482076110833618196.post-4236098307712880286</id><published>2009-03-17T12:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-17T14:46:56.974-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Holidays'/><title type='text'>Wee Bit O'Blarney or, 10 Things you didn't know about the Irish</title><content type='html'>Today is St. Patrick's Day. The day everyone claims Irish decent, searches their yards for four leaf clovers, seeks the elusive leprechaun and his pot of gold, eat corned beef and cabbage and drinks green food coloring laced with beer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I don't claim Irish decent only on March 17&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;. I am Irish 365 days out of the year. My grandmother was born in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Macroom&lt;/span&gt;, Co. Cork, Ireland. She had one heck of an accent and taught me the ways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd like to dispel a few myths for you that irk me something fierce.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. We don't eat corned beef. It simply isn't a food in Ireland. Cabbage...yea, lots of that...but corned beef is an American dish.&lt;br /&gt;Our traditional food on this day is the usual fare....stew. Which is in the slow cooker as we speak!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Soda bread does NOT have raisins. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, I'm guilty of this because frankly...it's better with them. However it's not traditional. if your soda bread has raisins, it's actually called "Spotted Dog"&lt;br /&gt;Real soda bread is bland and has very little, if any sugar. No butter and none of the extras to make it tasty. It's a filler. Dip it in your stew and it tastes good. Other than that....make Spotted Dog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. the only Green food item I can think of is cabbage. Green food coloring does NOT make something Irish. Seriously...that's like saying all Americans eat Red, White and Blue food. yummy, dyed blue hot dogs. Tasty. Get my point? Quite frankly, there is nothing appetizing about green food unless it's a vegetable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. St. Patrick is the patron saint of Ireland. Not the patron saint of the beer keg. I grew up with this day being a religious holiday. Church, followed by a big family dinner....of stew. Think Thanksgiving....with soda bread and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;boxty&lt;/span&gt; pancakes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. The Irish do make a tasty beer. nobody can argue that. However, just because I'm Irish does not mean I'm a drunk. In fact, I rarely drink alcohol. A good Guinness is fine once in a blue moon...but I don't drink all that often.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. That brings me to pubs. The pub is short for Public house. Where the town folk come to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;socialize&lt;/span&gt;. Drinking is optional, but just like any other culture alcohol is a part of it for many reasons including health! Children are allowed in the pub. Think of it as an old fashioned chat room with music and food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Yes, potatoes are the staple of Ireland. So those of us of Irish decent have indeed eaten our fair share of potatoes. In fact, I can cook a potato 1000 different ways. You take away my potatoes, I'll break your face. that said, I also know the difference between russets, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;yukons&lt;/span&gt;, red &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Potomac&lt;/span&gt; and Jersey royals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Dancing...."can you dance a jig?" Seriously? How &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;stereotypica&lt;/span&gt;....yea, I can. However a jig is really just a set dance (you've seen &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Riverdance&lt;/span&gt;) of girls lined up with their arms board straight at their sides making happy clicking sounds with their fast moving feet. I prefer a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Ceili&lt;/span&gt;. Group dancing. You know "the Waves of Tory" Oh, well, my second grader does...so there. On that note, when I was a kid &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Riverdance&lt;/span&gt; was just one of the many gender-bending thoughts in Michael &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Flatley's&lt;/span&gt; head. So I had to learn the hard way....from my family. Luckily for my little Clare, Irish dance was all the rage when she was born, so there are schools and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Feis&lt;/span&gt;' and all the fun stuff that only happened in Boston until 5 years ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Someone said this to me not a week ago "The Irish and the English are basically the same"......deep breath.......find a happy place......No, they are not. I won't go into the Catholic vs. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Protestant&lt;/span&gt; debate. You are intelligent people, if you want to know....go forth and seek. I will simply say, that statement is like saying America and England are the same. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;Why&lt;/span&gt; did they bother with that silly revolution?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. We are devoutly &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;religious&lt;/span&gt;. My Grandmother crossed herself a good 752 times a day. Had a prayer for everything from waking up alive in the morning to making bread to tying her shoes. No joke. Being deeply &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;religious&lt;/span&gt; also lends itself to being deeply &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;superstitious&lt;/span&gt;. I remember being tossed outside when I was a girl because I was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;whistling&lt;/span&gt; in my Grandmothers kitchen. It's bad &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;luck&lt;/span&gt; for a girl to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;whistle&lt;/span&gt; in a house. If you find a four leaf clover (a real one, not a hybrid) always keep it on you and never show it to anyone! Bet you didn't know that one!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have fun today. Take some time to remember why we celebrate the day and go to the local pub. Enjoy a Guinness without the food coloring. Try some soda bread and stew. Put on your green and enjoy the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy St. Patrick's Day Everyone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;Beannachtai&lt;/span&gt; Na &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;Fheile&lt;/span&gt; Padraig!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4482076110833618196-4236098307712880286?l=abpsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/4236098307712880286/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4482076110833618196&amp;postID=4236098307712880286&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/4236098307712880286'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/4236098307712880286'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/2009/03/wee-bit-oblarney-or-10-things-you-didnt.html' title='Wee Bit O&apos;Blarney or, 10 Things you didn&apos;t know about the Irish'/><author><name>Kristine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16672271400402571917</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SZs49nqGe-I/AAAAAAAAACg/cyJ1kiAKWPs/S220/wed5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4482076110833618196.post-5245093376989018496</id><published>2009-03-17T12:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-17T14:49:09.268-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><title type='text'>Happy Birthday Chris</title><content type='html'>Happy Birthday to you&lt;br /&gt;You live in a Zoo&lt;br /&gt;You look like a monkey&lt;br /&gt;and you smell like one too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok he actually looks very handsome and smells like Kenneth Cole Reaction...but I digress....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today Chris turns 31. My 6'4" leprechaun isn't hiding a pot of gold, just himself. However I do know where to find him...he's hiding on a submarine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Birthday Chris, we love you more than life!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4482076110833618196-5245093376989018496?l=abpsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/5245093376989018496/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4482076110833618196&amp;postID=5245093376989018496&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/5245093376989018496'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/5245093376989018496'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/2009/03/happy-birthday-chris.html' title='Happy Birthday Chris'/><author><name>Kristine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16672271400402571917</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SZs49nqGe-I/AAAAAAAAACg/cyJ1kiAKWPs/S220/wed5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4482076110833618196.post-504422059881683372</id><published>2009-03-14T16:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-15T15:52:49.407-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>The Universe is speaking...are you there????</title><content type='html'>So in my last post I regaled fond memories of an old friend who has recently passed away. A tragic car accident took his life this past week. I mourned him, honored him and for a day or two took the perils of driving quite seriously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is until today...it would seem. You see, today the universe has again reminded me that driving is indeed dangerous.&lt;br /&gt;So there we are, minding our own business happily driving to the Family Pancake House. My Father-in-law ( or as I like to call him Daddy-O) is visiting us for the weekend and decided to take the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;fam&lt;/span&gt; to breakfast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chris was driving his tank of an SUV. Daddy-O in the passenger seat and Gracie and I in the back. Chris was slowing to turn into the parking lot when.....&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;BAM&lt;/span&gt;!!!!!! rear ended.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teeth shattering crunch, screeching metal and tires and then silence. It took about a millisecond for my brain to process the information and realize that we had indeed just been in a car accident.&lt;br /&gt;I immediately turn to Gracie and start patting her down asking things like "are you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;" and "do you hurt" over and over again. Checking to make sure all her hair was still there and her fingernails were in place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She, totally confused by this asks "what just happened" as I damn near scream out "we were just in a wreck...are you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In case you were wondering....that is exactly the wrong thing to tell an eight year old. Water works start flowing. She was scared of course..but for the most part unscathed.&lt;br /&gt;Had I been thinking it could have come out more like "well honey, that bad man in the truck behind us just tapped &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Daddy's&lt;/span&gt; bumper" or something a little more sugar coated than that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To give you an idea of the impact...I was wearing a headband on my head. After the wreck I put my hand on my head and realized it was missing....where did we find it? Against the back tailgate of the car. It went flying, off my head all the way back there. So now let's imagine what my head did during that time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway....during all of the patting down and checking for a pulse on my daughter, I hear my darling husband shout out "Like hell you are" only to realize we are driving away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why? Oh...see, the bad man in the truck...decided he didn't need to stop. In fact it seems he was in a rather big hurry to get wherever he was headed and now he was running late. He needed to speed, run red lights and drive like his bad man truck was going to explode if he stopped.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By this point I'm on my cell phone with 911. Giving the girl on the other end a play by play of the chase. Luckily we were able to get a license plate number and full detailed &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;description&lt;/span&gt; of the truck. I'm sure the phone tape of that conversation is entertaining at the very least.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She kept telling me we needed to stop...break off pursuit. I told her I wasn't driving and it was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;illegal&lt;/span&gt; to talk on a cell phone while driving so she couldn't talk to Chris at the moment. At one point I even said "Ha! if we weren't chasing him you wouldn't know that he just turned right on Maple!" So, they have a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;zig&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;zag&lt;/span&gt; map of all the roads he took to escape.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally he lost us. Chris was angry...but not angry enough to kill us all or break any laws. So the bad man got away.&lt;br /&gt;When the police finally did show up they already knew who he was and where he lived. So that's good news. He of course wasn't there. But eventually he will be and they will find him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone is doing alright. Gracie's back hurt for a bit. She was really scared and shaking, but she was dancing within the hour so I can only assume she is fine. Chris and Daddy-O are both fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I on the other hand have been dizzy ever since. Sore neck, back and hip. An hour or so later I was sick to my stomach, but I'm chalking that up to stress and nerves and you can't convince me otherwise.&lt;br /&gt;And yes, IF the vertigo doesn't improve by the morning I will haul myself into the ER to get checked out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so thankful that is all that happened. Chris' Explorer has a bent bumper and a dent in the back. Had it been any other car, the results could have been disgustingly different. Everyone walked away from it...shaken, but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;unscathed&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It could have been worse...I called my friend Stacy when I got home to tell her the story, only to have her say "I can top that. I killed my cat today"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seems she started her truck and her cat had been sleeping in the engine. So RIP Stitch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once again the Universe has reminded me that it could be a lot worse....oh, and driving is dangerous to your health....or your cats health, as the case may be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;UPDATE:&lt;/span&gt; So the bad man in the truck reported his car stolen a mere 20 minutes after the accident and...miraculously, the vehicle was found by a "friend" not an hour later. But have no fear, the police aren't picking up what he's putting down and are going all CSI on the guy and the truck. They are well aware he was driving and they won't let him get away. I hope.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4482076110833618196-504422059881683372?l=abpsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/504422059881683372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4482076110833618196&amp;postID=504422059881683372&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/504422059881683372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/504422059881683372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/2009/03/universe-is-speakingare-you-there.html' title='The Universe is speaking...are you there????'/><author><name>Kristine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16672271400402571917</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SZs49nqGe-I/AAAAAAAAACg/cyJ1kiAKWPs/S220/wed5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4482076110833618196.post-8318982454038199035</id><published>2009-03-12T17:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-12T18:20:08.185-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>Life is Short</title><content type='html'>Today's lesson is simple. Tell the people you care about how much they mean to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I received the tragic news that an old friend had died in a car accident. A horrible, nightmarish accident.&lt;br /&gt;I hadn't seen my friend in years. I honestly don't believe I have seen him since I moved away from Seattle in high school. But I never forgot him. Nobody could. He was always smiling. Had beautiful green eyes and a smile that lit up a room. He was handsome, funny and sweet. He was a huger. He would hug everyone when he saw them.&lt;br /&gt;Junior high was tough for me. Not because of the awkward pre-teen years, but because my Mom was battling cancer. I was depressed, moody and scared. Not to mention....a middle school girl!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Usually the very first person I would see every morning was Nate. His locker was a couple down from mine. He would smile and give me a big hug.&lt;br /&gt;When I was going through, probably the roughest time of my life...Nate was my own personal sunshine.&lt;br /&gt;Now that sun is gone. I never told him how much his morning pep talks cheered me up. I never let him know that his hug was something I looked forward to and I never told him how truly important he was to me. I never got the chance to let him know that in 7th grade, in my dark place he was a shining angel.&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if he knows it now? Rest in Peace Nathan, you are back home with the angels.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4482076110833618196-8318982454038199035?l=abpsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/8318982454038199035/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4482076110833618196&amp;postID=8318982454038199035&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/8318982454038199035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/8318982454038199035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/2009/03/life-is-short.html' title='Life is Short'/><author><name>Kristine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16672271400402571917</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SZs49nqGe-I/AAAAAAAAACg/cyJ1kiAKWPs/S220/wed5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4482076110833618196.post-4613223916842378570</id><published>2009-03-03T14:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-03T15:53:07.806-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friends'/><title type='text'>Rally Cry</title><content type='html'>Hello again friends. I am here to ask you to take some time and read a blog by my friend Clare. If you look at the bottom of this post, you will see a link for RunMomRun. Please go and read her story.&lt;br /&gt;I can give you a little background and tell you the story from my perspective but I can't do it justice. You have to read her words.&lt;br /&gt;You see, almost 10 years ago I met one of my dearest friends. Clare. She and her husband had moved to Chicago the same time me and my husband had. The guys were in a Navy school together and Clare and I were bored housewives. So naturally we clicked. We spent hours drinking coffee, shopping and chatting. For a year were were inseparable. When we both moved to our new duty stations, her Norfolk, Va and us in San Diego, Ca. I cried. I wondered if I would ever see my friend again and if we would drift apart once life got in the way.&lt;br /&gt;Well, I'm happy to report that hasn't been the case.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, my point. When we started hanging out, she told me about her son Johnathon. At that point in time, she was less than a year removed from his death and the wound was still fresh. She honored me with her candor and trust on such a sensitive subject.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She told me all about Johnathon's likes and dislikes. His favorite music, toys, cartoons and food. I got to know this beautiful little boy through her. We cried, we laughed and most importantly, we remembered him.&lt;br /&gt;He loved elephants...and I remember I gave her an elephant that belonged to my Grandmother. I didn't know why I had brought it with me to Chicago. I could have very easily left it back in Oregon with my Mom. I remember when I packed it wondering what the heck I was packing it for. I put it in a closet and forgot about it, and only brought it out when I suddenly realized, she was meant to have it. She still has it. To this day, I can't look at a stuffed elephant without a little lump in my throat welling up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was one of the privileged few who got to know Johnathon. Even though I never met him in life, I feel like I truly know this little boy. Very generously, she gave me a little picture of him that is tucked away in my photo album with all my most loved family members. I cried the day she gave it to me. After all, she couldn't take any more pictures of him ever again and she was giving one to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I said before, when I met Clare the wound was still fresh. Her emotions were raw and she still didn't quite have a grasp on it all. I knew the stories of how she coped after his death, but I also watched her transformation happen right before my very eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would never have believed you could recover from the death of a child. But I didn't know Clare before. Her road was rocky, tiresome and so unbearable at times a lesser woman would have given up. But I watched her climb her way, arduously, one tiny step at a time until she was finally almost a complete human again. Her eyes have a quiet pain in them, but they smile now. Her laugh on occasion has a hint of heartbreak, but it's hardy. She is whole again although a bit battered and bruised with battle scars from the personal war she has fought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today she is taking on a new challenge. She is running. Running in marathons raising awareness and money so that you and I never have to go through what she has. She has a very simple goal. Prevent another child from dying of cancer. With Johnathon as her inspiration, she runs. His struggle, his fight for life, is her motivation to keep moving. Forward Motion. Always stay in forward motion.&lt;br /&gt;Clare is the strongest person I know. She would be the first to challenge me on that. But it's true. She has strength of character, willpower and a heart the size of Texas. My Clara is named after her because I knew, if she could somehow inherit a tiny fraction of her disposition she would be able to do anything.&lt;br /&gt;So now friends, I ask that you read her blog. Hear her words. And if moved, help her cause and donate. If you are moved by what she says, perhaps you could pass it on to your friends and family. Together let's help eliminate childhood cancer forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://forwardmotion-runmomrun.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://forwardmotion-runmomrun.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.active.com/donate/rallyathletes/RUNMOMRUN"&gt;http://www.active.com/donate/rallyathletes/RUNMOMRUN&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4482076110833618196-4613223916842378570?l=abpsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/4613223916842378570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4482076110833618196&amp;postID=4613223916842378570&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/4613223916842378570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/4613223916842378570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/2009/03/rally-cry.html' title='Rally Cry'/><author><name>Kristine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16672271400402571917</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SZs49nqGe-I/AAAAAAAAACg/cyJ1kiAKWPs/S220/wed5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4482076110833618196.post-5794843032673605190</id><published>2009-03-01T13:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-01T13:33:48.770-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friends'/><title type='text'>Who says you can't go home again?</title><content type='html'>Friday I had the pleasure of joining a group of old friends for brunch in Edmonds. Some of these girls I haven't seen in almost 20 years!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An old childhood school friend, Jennifer was visiting her parents for a couple weeks and thanks to the wonders of modern technology we have all reconnected via Facebook. She decided that while she was here, she would like to get a sort of informal reunion set up. After weeks of planning and getting schedules coordinated, the day finally came.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got Gracie off to school and headed out to catch my ferry. I was so super excited I was actually singing in my car. I rode the Edmonds-Kingston ferry across Puget Sound. Once I was there, I drove a few short blocks to the Pancake Haus. If you know Edmonds, you know this is a fantastic little place to eat breakfast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was a little early, so I popped into Petosa's grocery next door to see if anything had changed. Nope....it's all the same! Exactly as I remember.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was time for the bruch date so I headed over to the Haus. I was the first to arrive because I have a really annoying habit of being punctual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shortly after I arrive and before I could remove my coat, Jennifer came in followed by her Mom and son. We exchanged big hugs and I was shocked at how grown up she looked. She was 16 the last time I saw her. She still looked like a little girl. Today, she is an absolutly georgous woman! Her Mom looks exactly as I remember and her son is a doll.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kolleen quickly followed Jennifer. I have seen Kolleen countless times since I moved away as we have been better at staying in touch. But as always it was still great to see her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Following her was Sarah. My childhood best friend. I haven't seen Sarah in years but we do keep in touch often. I was so thrilled to see her again in person that I almost cried. She brought her beautiful two month old baby Stella who I wouldn't let go for a second. Sarah looks the same, acts the same and IS the very same Sarah I spent every single day of my life from first through ninth grade with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About that time Tatum, Libby and Liz joined us. Libby just looked at me and said "where the hell have you been the past 15 years" to which I could only reply..."everwhere" If you know Libby, you will understand when I say...Libby is Libby. I was glad to see time hadn't changed her a bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was so excited to see Elizabeth again. She was one of my very best friends back in the day. She and my old best friend Catherine quickly because BFF's after I moved to Oregon...so I held some sort of anomosity toward her for a long time. (fueled by the fact that she looks like a Supermodel)&lt;br /&gt;But those feelings have been long buried in the way back machine and I'm looking forward to making new memories with her in the future. She still looks beautiful and she brought her husband Jay who is a really nice guy and is from Poulsbo so they visit often!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't get a chance to catch up with Tatum as much as I would have liked. She looks georgous and I hardly recognized her. She brought her adorable daughter Katlyn who was quite annoyed with me for not bringing Gracie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, we spent 3 very quick hours chatting about where we've been, what we have done and our children and husbands. Gossip about friends who were absent (all good I promise) Sarah and I acted like giddy teenagers again and gossiped about Twilight and what our exboyfriends were doing. Turns out mine is a doctor!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was sad that the party had to break up so quickly. We are planning another one as soon as we can. It was so great to see everyone again. This is one of the main reasons I'm so thankful that I live back "home"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sarah and I are planning dinner soon. Kolleen and I...well, we see each other a lot anyway, but we are still planning playdates and Liz and I are planning coffee when she gets over to Poulsbo.&lt;br /&gt;All in all, it was a fantastic day spent with some amazing old friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess you really can go home again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4482076110833618196-5794843032673605190?l=abpsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/5794843032673605190/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4482076110833618196&amp;postID=5794843032673605190&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/5794843032673605190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/5794843032673605190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/2009/03/who-says-you-cant-go-home-again.html' title='Who says you can&apos;t go home again?'/><author><name>Kristine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16672271400402571917</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SZs49nqGe-I/AAAAAAAAACg/cyJ1kiAKWPs/S220/wed5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4482076110833618196.post-2208103504511573865</id><published>2009-02-26T11:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T12:28:56.866-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>Good Morning Parents, this is your 5:30 am Wake Up Call.</title><content type='html'>Ring, ring...when the phone rings at 5:30 am someone is either dead, something has blown up, OR....it has snowed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, when you are sound asleep and the phone starts ringing you jump out of bed to assess the time by how light it is outside. Because you can't read the numbers on the alarm clock. You are vaguely aware that it is earlier than when the alarm is set to go off...and judging from the pitch black outside you assume it is somewhere closer to 3 am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frantically you run around the house, like a chicken with it's head cut off, knocking over and running into everything trying to find where the ringing is coming from.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was my morning. I didn't get to the phone in time so the answering machine clicked on and there I heard a very cheerful voice say "Good Morning North Kitsap Parents" My first though "oh God, the school has a gas leak or was attacked by terrorists"&lt;br /&gt;The happy voice on the other end of the line went on to say "if you look out your windows you'll see that we have snow on the ground... so school will be delayed two hours today. Stay safe and we'll See you later"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Stay Safe?" Terrorists for sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At 5:30 am I couldn't tell you my own name let alone process the information "snow on the ground" Considering last night it was cold, but clear. Not a hint that white stuff would be covering the yard by morning. It didn't process in my brain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I looked out the window, trying to understand the foreign language I had just heard. Nothing up to this point had made any sense to me.&lt;br /&gt;So, I exclaimed to my husband "hey look, it snowed!"&lt;br /&gt;"Thanks Captain Obvious"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gracie with her built in alarm clock woke up at 7:30. she was fed, dressed and ready for school earlier than usual (of course) so we headed out to Starbucks. The roads are fine. There is snow on the ground, but the road...dry as a bone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gracie finally did get off to school. her bus came at 10:55. two full hours later than usual. Happy as a clam at the novelty of going to school so late and I'm two hours behind on my usual routine...so I'm throwing caution to the wind and throwing out the schedule today. I think I'll reread Twilight.....again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4482076110833618196-2208103504511573865?l=abpsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/2208103504511573865/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4482076110833618196&amp;postID=2208103504511573865&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/2208103504511573865'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/2208103504511573865'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/2009/02/good-morning-parents-this-is-your-530.html' title='Good Morning Parents, this is your 5:30 am Wake Up Call.'/><author><name>Kristine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16672271400402571917</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SZs49nqGe-I/AAAAAAAAACg/cyJ1kiAKWPs/S220/wed5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4482076110833618196.post-4081997311445109189</id><published>2009-02-25T18:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-25T21:23:06.882-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><title type='text'>Fun in the backyard</title><content type='html'>Here are some old videos from the Abplanalp vault. I recently got a new shiny computer that loves me and when we downloaded all the old stuff off my hard drive it was kind enough to categorize it and put it all together in a shiny new folder. Then it makes my life super easy by allowing me to touch the screen and voila! Watch precious videos of my baby girl.  So, I decided I would share the wealth. I thought you would enjoy some video of Gracie...age 3.&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-287b8412d845e59d" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v21.nonxt6.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D287b8412d845e59d%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331344904%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D59675587BA3B972DBC5190257007637D8966AC5B.4DAE900080F9EF790D8E63A8EEA73F90D41BF78B%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D287b8412d845e59d%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D0nwPQ4uaFmkqTdw2GdJAiEhT4vc&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v21.nonxt6.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D287b8412d845e59d%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331344904%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D59675587BA3B972DBC5190257007637D8966AC5B.4DAE900080F9EF790D8E63A8EEA73F90D41BF78B%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D287b8412d845e59d%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D0nwPQ4uaFmkqTdw2GdJAiEhT4vc&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-da53be90ea7961fb" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v8.nonxt8.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dda53be90ea7961fb%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331344904%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D3233AAE61B8067DAC93307AFA2057B730D9D1DB2.5CFEBBFC7B2FD64EBB4682D4866DF9A163766163%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dda53be90ea7961fb%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DdXWVwimcRVeJQtbOS5GqzUBd5kw&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v8.nonxt8.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dda53be90ea7961fb%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331344904%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D3233AAE61B8067DAC93307AFA2057B730D9D1DB2.5CFEBBFC7B2FD64EBB4682D4866DF9A163766163%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dda53be90ea7961fb%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DdXWVwimcRVeJQtbOS5GqzUBd5kw&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4482076110833618196-4081997311445109189?l=abpsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=287b8412d845e59d&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=da53be90ea7961fb&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/4081997311445109189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4482076110833618196&amp;postID=4081997311445109189&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/4081997311445109189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/4081997311445109189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/2009/02/fun-in-backyard.html' title='Fun in the backyard'/><author><name>Kristine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16672271400402571917</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SZs49nqGe-I/AAAAAAAAACg/cyJ1kiAKWPs/S220/wed5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4482076110833618196.post-545026533296777971</id><published>2009-02-23T15:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-11T13:11:14.434-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><title type='text'>Rest and Relaxation</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SaM2I17CvSI/AAAAAAAAADA/KOE733s58oE/s1600-h/P2210581.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SaM2I17CvSI/AAAAAAAAADA/KOE733s58oE/s320/P2210581.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306144311514152226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This weekend my wonderful husband treated me to a mini vacation. Away from children, phones, computers and everything else that occupies my time.&lt;br /&gt;We drove across the Hood Canal bridge and up the peninsula to Port Ludlow. The Inn at Port Ludlow to be exact.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow! What an amazing place. It was less than a 20 minute drive from our house but it felt like we ran away to another country. It was so unbelievably quiet and peaceful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being the off season, the small resort with only has 37 rooms, was extra quiet with Chris and I making up 1/6 of the population. It was as if we had the entire place to ourselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our room was absolutely amazing. A Fireplace, deck with a sweeping view of the harbor and a jacuzzi tub with a wall that opens up so you can see that incredible view!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was my very first night away from Gracie. Well, that's not exactly true. She has had sleepovers before. Albeit very few, but I was always home...worrying. Chris has been away from her because the Navy for some unknown reason, doesn't allow children to go on deployment. But me, I have never left my home for the evening without her. So it was a little strange at first...but the resort was so peaceful that I quickly accepted it and moved on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is something truly amazing about the water around here. One day feels like 10. But in a good way. Saturday we were sitting on our deck and realized we had only been there for a handful of hours but it felt so relaxed that we could have sworn it had been days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chris will be deployed for our 10th anniversary...so this was our celebration. Just a little early. So when we returned home he had a gift waiting for me. A super, incredible all in one HP touch screen computer!!!&lt;br /&gt;Now that he is back on duty, I'm spending all my free time learning my new shiny super computer.&lt;br /&gt;My gift to him wasn't nearly as jaw dropping. I made him a mixed tape.... Ok, CD. All the songs that have somehow attached themselves to our life these past 12 years. Starting with the song that started it all. Pachabel's Canon in D.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that was my wonderful weekend. If you ever get over this way I highly recommend the Inn at Port Ludlow!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SaM2b7D-WmI/AAAAAAAAADI/Vp0gJcjnv3Q/s1600-h/P2210526.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SaM2b7D-WmI/AAAAAAAAADI/Vp0gJcjnv3Q/s320/P2210526.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306144639311305314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4482076110833618196-545026533296777971?l=abpsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/545026533296777971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4482076110833618196&amp;postID=545026533296777971&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/545026533296777971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/545026533296777971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/2009/02/this-weekend-my-wonderful-husband.html' title='Rest and Relaxation'/><author><name>Kristine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16672271400402571917</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SZs49nqGe-I/AAAAAAAAACg/cyJ1kiAKWPs/S220/wed5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SaM2I17CvSI/AAAAAAAAADA/KOE733s58oE/s72-c/P2210581.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4482076110833618196.post-6120485949690996116</id><published>2009-02-15T11:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-17T14:47:48.182-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='politics'/><title type='text'>Off on the Wrong Foot</title><content type='html'>I have been weary of writing about Obama because, while I didn't vote for him I am of the mindset of "give the guy a chance." I want to like him. I want him to succeed and lead our country well. Really I do. I keep thinking if I click my heels three times, I can somehow make the news change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But alas, I can't. I simply can not understand how in less than a month in office he can break just about every single promise he made.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I won't go into the cabinet choices. Some I think are spot on and amazing choices. Others I scratch my head and wonder what was he smoking??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's simply focus on the stimulus package. Or as I have been told by a few of my liberal friends "the bill that will get us back on track"&lt;br /&gt;How exactly can we get back on track when he is spending almost 900 billion....with a B, in pork?&lt;br /&gt;Here are some links so you don't just take my word for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.propublica.org/special/the-stimulus-plan-a-detailed-list-of-spending"&gt;http://www.propublica.org&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_L6pDyjqqsvY/SZeuBHe9VcI/AAAAAAAAaDw/qwd70NrOFXY/s1600-h/stimulus+bill.JPG"&gt;http://3.bp.blogspot.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ireport.com/docs/DOC-209280"&gt;http://www.ireport.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let us start with where the money is going. Because most people are surprised to know that it isn't going into their wallets. No kids, it's not. No rebates for the middle and lower classes, students.&lt;br /&gt;No, every penny of this colossus mistake WILL be paid by you, me, your parents, children, grandchildren and perhaps your pets someday, when they figure out how to tax them too.&lt;br /&gt;I'm not even going to comment on the absurd and silly of the list. Things like&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;$500,000 for dog parks&lt;br /&gt;$4.5 million for butterfly gardens&lt;br /&gt;$6 million for water slides&lt;br /&gt;$1 million for a frisbee golf course&lt;br /&gt;$25 million to rehabilitate off-roading (ATV) trails&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, I'll focus on the big ticket items.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;• A $246 million tax break for Hollywood movie producers to buy motion picture film.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;   (Is this a joke? Really. Does Hollywood REALLY need more money? I mean seriously!&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;• $650 million for the digital television converter box coupon program.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;   (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I understand the need for this. I know why it's being done. But simply adding cable will fix the problem. $650 M is a tad bit excessive)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;• $88 million for the Coast Guard to design a new polar icebreaker (arctic ship).&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;   (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I understand this too, but right now the Coasties need a new Arctic ship like I need a hole in my head. How exactly does this help the economy?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;• $448 million for constructing the Department of Homeland Security headquarters.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;    (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;you remember them right? That very same department that the dems and the Obama camp deems UnAmerican)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;• $248 million for furniture at the new Homeland Security headquarters.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;   &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(Considering Homeland Security has been in existence since 9/11, I'm pretty sure their furniture isn't falling apart yet not to mention, can't they use SOME of the $448 M for desks and chairs? So in total, they are getting $696 Million to decorate. Not actually fight terrorism)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;• $600 million to buy hybrid vehicles for federal employees.&lt;p&gt;   (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;noble and necessary HOWEVER, the majority of federal vehicles are vans and trucks. Not exactly fuel efficient. But, for arguments sake at least if they give them all Prius' them maybe they will stop using them for personal use or, are they going to buy all of us who are federal employees personal cars to set the example?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;• $400 million for the Centers for Disease Control to screen and prevent STD's.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;   (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;$400M for STD's? are we serious?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;• $1.4 billion for rural waste disposal programs.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; • $125 million for the Washington sewer system.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;• $150 million for Smithsonian museum facilities.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;(&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I have no problems with this one. I for one fully support the arts and museums and think America's Attic which is free to the public can use the funds, however I do wish they would take the frisbee park, water slide and butterfly garden money and spend it here as well)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;• $1 billion for the 2010 Census, which has a projected cost overrun of $3 billion.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;   &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(this rubs me the wrong way. Because it's not only for the census, but the redistribution of district lines)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;• $75 million for "smoking cessation activities."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;  (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Look, people need to quit smoking. I agree however if they want to kill themselves that is not the governments concern. If they have health insurance of their own. I'm sick and tired of the government stepping in and holding our hands on every single decision we make.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;• $200 million for public computer centers at community colleges.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;  (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;uh...which community colleges? Considering they receive tuition they usually have computer centers. Besides, "college expenses" which your financial aid covers, includes computers. So a little redundant)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;• $75 million for salaries of employees at the FBI.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;• $25 million for tribal alcohol and substance abuse reduction.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;(&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Seriously, it's time the government takes a hard stand here. Either let them govern themselves or fully fund the tribes. I'm sick of the government spending billions on the reservations, yet receiving not a penny back in taxes from the casinos, and other business ventures we can't stay on the fence forever.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;• $500 million for flood reduction projects on the Mississippi River.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;(&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;the Mississippi floods people. Why on Gods green Earth do I have to pay for stupid people who build homes next to places that historically flood ALL the time? I live in an area that floods, so I have to have insurance. Why don't these people?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;• $10 million to inspect canals in urban areas.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(state issue. Not a federal issue)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;• $6 billion to turn federal buildings into "green" buildings.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;(&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I am all for going "green" but how does this help the economy again?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;• $500 million for state and local fire stations.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(another one I have no issues with. But I would like to add that the stations aren't where the money should go...it SHOULD go to the firemen who work there. But it won't)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;• $650 million for wildland fire management on forest service lands.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(I lived in Eastern Oregon, in the mountains. So this I understand when many, many others do not. Underbrush burns. Cluttered underbrush is what causes the devastating fires. The problem, the "go green" set don't like people coming in and "destroying" the natural forest. So, while they earmarked money for it....it will never go to what it's intended. The tree huggers will see to that)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;• $1.2 billion for "youth activities," including youth summer job programs.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(24 is not YOUTH. I have problems with this one in general because it's targeted to a select few. I think it's excessive and will fail.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;• $88 million for renovating the headquarters of the Public Health Service.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(more redecorating for federal buildings)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;• $412 million for CDC buildings and property.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(someone in Senate must have an interior designer for a second cousin and they REALLY need a job)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;• $500 million for building and repairing National Institutes of Health facilities in Bethesda, Maryland.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(redecorating AGAIN)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;• $160 million for "paid volunteers" at the Corporation for National and Community Service.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;• $5.5 million for "energy efficiency initiatives" at the Department of Veterans Affairs National Cemetery Administration.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;(&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;more "green" buildings. Ok, that's good but again it's not going to help the economy. I'm seeing a trend here. )&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;• $850 million for Amtrak.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(Why? Please tell me why? Amtrak pissed away all their money the LAST time they were given a handout. What was that...15 years ago? Right after the handout the canceled service, not expand it. No, check that...they did expand back East, and they cut 90% of their service in the West)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;• $100 million for reducing the hazard of lead-based paint.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(where? Military housing? Doubt it. I've lived in a home with lead based paint. Military housing, I didn't lick the walls. Problem fixed for free)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;• $75 million to construct a "security training" facility for State Department Security officers when they can be trained at existing facilities of other agencies.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;(&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;They are trained already at perfectly good facilities. Quantico is decent..ever heard of it?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;• $110 million to the Farm Service Agency to upgrade computer systems.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;(&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;how about instead of upgrading the computers, we help out....here's a wacky idea...the FARMERS)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;• $200 million in funding for the lease of alternative energy vehicles for use on military installations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(again these are federal vehicles. I think this has been covered already&lt;/span&gt; to the tune of $600  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;million. That money would be far better spent on military paychecks, upgrading the substandard housing (especially for low enlisted families who can't afford off base housing) build more homes, so people aren't on waiting lists for two years)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So while I want more than anything to say "way to go Mr. President" I simply can't. I don't understand why he can't tell us about the earmarks in this package. This package isn't going to help anyone except some contractors and Hollywood. The rest of us will suffer for it. NOTHING in this package will "restart" the economy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So ends my political rant for today. I don't like discussing politics because quite frankly, it's exhausting. I will attempt to limit how much politics I have on my blog because I don't have the energy to discuss it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4482076110833618196-6120485949690996116?l=abpsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/6120485949690996116/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4482076110833618196&amp;postID=6120485949690996116&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/6120485949690996116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/6120485949690996116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/2009/02/off-on-wrong-foot.html' title='Off on the Wrong Foot'/><author><name>Kristine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16672271400402571917</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SZs49nqGe-I/AAAAAAAAACg/cyJ1kiAKWPs/S220/wed5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4482076110833618196.post-7137329141428524659</id><published>2009-02-14T21:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T13:45:06.650-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><title type='text'>Birthday Luau or the truth about Hawaiian Pizza</title><content type='html'>42 and cloudy is not your typical weather conditions for Hawaii, but nobody seemed to mind. Our living room and dining room here in Washington State were transformed into the sunny shores of Hawaii for Gracie's Luau birthday party.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a beach cake, palm trees (some complete with monkeys...though I'm not sure what that has to do with Hawaii) grass skirts (even one for the table), lei's, flowers for the hair, Hawaiian breeze (brought to us by my Mother-in-Law who graciously stopped by the store and bought tropical breeze air spray) and of course Hawaiian music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the "luau" portion of today's events, we had Hawaiian Punch and Hawaiian Pizza. Yes, it is a little like saying French fries are from France, but MOST of the kids didn't seem to mind. One very bright party goer did point out that "It's not really Hawaiian because it has Canadian bacon on it" she then went on to add "but it's my favorite so I don't mind"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the luau, the kids played games. Hula Hoops of course! We had a hula hoop contest which somehow progressed into a jump rope contest. Which then naturally progressed into Hide and Seek....Hawaiian style.&lt;br /&gt;It is amazing when you get a group of kids together the games take on a life of their own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hawaiian style hide and seek by the way, has very simple rules I was informed by another one of party. Once you are found, you and "IT" have to race for the base while Hula dancing. Of course!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About this time the sun decided to make an apperance at the Luau. So for a brief time, and if you wore a jacket, it was bright, the sky was deep blue and the sun was shining like the beaches of Waikiki.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After Hawaiian hide and seek they came back inside (because it was still 42 degrees out there) and decided to...what else....hula dance! Surprisingly, one of the boys was pretty good!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then it was time for presents. What a haul!! These kids brought puzzles, games, dolls, one girl brought two beautiful sweaters from Nordstrom!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then naturally they were ready for cake and ice cream. Chocolate with cherry filling and their choice of vanilla or tropical sherbet! But first we had a very rousing rendition of "Happy Birthday" complete with popping sounds, monkey noises and beeps! And considering half the party goers call her Clare and the other half call her Gracie they decided before the singing portion of the event began, to all sing "Gracie Clare" at the appropriate place in the song.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a side note: I have to say, Central Market has the BEST cake I have ever tasted. Just an FYI for anyone in the area. They actually used real cherries for the filling. So good I almost had a second piece!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, about this time the parents started arriving and the kids said their goodbyes. The Luau was a hit.&lt;br /&gt;I can best sum it up with the parting words of one of Gracie's little girlfriends, "Mrs. Clare's Mom, this was the best birthday party ever!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4482076110833618196-7137329141428524659?l=abpsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/7137329141428524659/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4482076110833618196&amp;postID=7137329141428524659&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/7137329141428524659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/7137329141428524659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/2009/02/birthday-luau-or-truth-about-hawaiian.html' title='Birthday Luau or the truth about Hawaiian Pizza'/><author><name>Kristine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16672271400402571917</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SZs49nqGe-I/AAAAAAAAACg/cyJ1kiAKWPs/S220/wed5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4482076110833618196.post-2387044670832342375</id><published>2009-02-13T13:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-13T13:34:06.484-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><title type='text'>Birthday Girl</title><content type='html'>Yesterday was Gracie's 8th birthday. Eight years old. I can vividly remember the day she came into the world. It seems like yesterday. A beautiful tiny little baby who couldn't even hold her head up.&lt;br /&gt;I remember the first day she smiled only three weeks later. A real, not from gas smile. She has continued to smile that same sweet smile every single day since. And now, she is officially a "tweener" That place between little girl and teenage girl. God help me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She loves all the tween things. Tinkerbell, Barbies, Hannah Montana, The Jonas Brothers, iCarly and so on. I have to listen to Radio Disney every morning during breakfast now that she is old enough to work the XM radio. She dances and sings along to all the tween songs. She is growing up so fast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yesterday she had a fabulous birthday. She of course had school, but afterward she wanted to go to Outback for her birthday dinner. She ordered steak. A first. Usually it's their absolutely amazing mac n' cheese. But yesterday, a grown up meal.&lt;br /&gt;We came home after a quick stop at Starbucks where she ordered a Chai Tea Latte. Then home to open presents.&lt;br /&gt;I think her favorite was the Tinkerbell music box/jewelry box from Angela and her family. Followed by the $100 in Barnes and Noble gift cards from various other people. See, the only thing she asked for were Barnes and Noble gift cards.&lt;br /&gt;She also loved her Tinkerbell and Nintendogs games for her Nintendo DS. And the money from her Grandpa and Aunt were icing on the cake. WAY to generous. Thank you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the presents, we sang a very lively rendition of "Happy Birthday" and she blew out her 8 candles on her Chocolate Cherry birthday cake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally it was bedtime. Where my half grown daughter takes my hand and says "Mommy, I'm not THAT old yet, can I sleep in your room tonight?"&lt;br /&gt;Of course we let her....we're not going to let her grow up to fast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAPPY BIRTHDAY GRACIE!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4482076110833618196-2387044670832342375?l=abpsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/2387044670832342375/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4482076110833618196&amp;postID=2387044670832342375&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/2387044670832342375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/2387044670832342375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/2009/02/yesterday-was-gracies-8th-birthday.html' title='Birthday Girl'/><author><name>Kristine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16672271400402571917</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SZs49nqGe-I/AAAAAAAAACg/cyJ1kiAKWPs/S220/wed5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4482076110833618196.post-8741924800311145901</id><published>2009-02-13T12:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-13T13:03:17.305-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Shiny New Toys</title><content type='html'>My best friend Angela FINALLY has a computer. That's not to say she hasn't had one before...but it's been many, many moons since she last surfed the interwebs and Googled anything for herself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I have been trying to teach "basic computing 101" today. Most of the basics she can still remember so I am more or less limiting my class lecture to "what's cool these days on the web" I have already sent her in the direction of Stephanie Meyers website. So she can catch up on all things Twilight. I've also told her to check out LOL cats and of course my blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I bring the discussion to you. My faithful friends and readers. What do you suggest? Anything new and exciting happening on the net that I may have overlooked? Does anyone know any good recipe sites? She's an excellent cook.&lt;br /&gt;What are the site you frequent? Please let me know what I can pass along!&lt;br /&gt;Thanks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4482076110833618196-8741924800311145901?l=abpsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/8741924800311145901/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4482076110833618196&amp;postID=8741924800311145901&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/8741924800311145901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/8741924800311145901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/2009/02/shiny-new-toys.html' title='Shiny New Toys'/><author><name>Kristine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16672271400402571917</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SZs49nqGe-I/AAAAAAAAACg/cyJ1kiAKWPs/S220/wed5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4482076110833618196.post-4238057803274436066</id><published>2009-02-09T13:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T14:17:15.570-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Snow More!</title><content type='html'>Good Morning kids...today I woke up to more of that white stuff on the ground. The fog was heavy in spots, but the sun was shining and the sky the most beautiful shade of blue I have ever seen.&lt;br /&gt;However, it was still white out there. Oh, did I mention it was cold too? Oh, well yea, it was that too.&lt;br /&gt;Gracie woke up, looked outside and pouted while saying "Oh no, does this mean I don't have school again?" See she would rather go to school that have a snow day. I know, backwards but I'll take it for as long as she keeps it up.&lt;br /&gt;Luckily for her, school was still in session. Magically, the snow fell on all the trees, yards, cars and houses, but managed to completely avoid the roads. (Gracie thinks pixie dust or perhaps God had a hand in that) But I would say there was close to a half an inch this morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, according to the news we are supposed to get another 6 inches tonight. 6 inches around here is enough to shut down the city. For days. Gracie's 8th birthday is Thursday so I'm keeping my fingers crossed that IF it snows, it melts off in a day. Otherwise I am stuck with 25 cupcakes and surfboard bookmarks that say "HAPPY 8TH BIRTHDAY CLARE" (Clara is her first name, and the name she goes by at school)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's now two in the afternoon and it's still pretty white out there. It is melting a little off the roof but there are some serious black clouds looming in the West. Just waiting to strike.&lt;br /&gt;So, tune in tomorrow for the snow report. Hopefully Gracie won't be disappointed by more of the white stuff.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4482076110833618196-4238057803274436066?l=abpsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/4238057803274436066/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4482076110833618196&amp;postID=4238057803274436066&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/4238057803274436066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/4238057803274436066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/2009/02/snow-more.html' title='Snow More!'/><author><name>Kristine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16672271400402571917</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SZs49nqGe-I/AAAAAAAAACg/cyJ1kiAKWPs/S220/wed5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4482076110833618196.post-533641309828677571</id><published>2009-02-07T22:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-08T20:23:04.644-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>And So It Begins.</title><content type='html'>When your husband is out to sea, inevitably something will happen. You get a flat, you break your arm, your house burns down. something happens. It's expected. I just didn't expect it to start BEFORE he went out to sea. I am praying this isn't a sign of things to come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up this morning and got ready to start my day. I had a ton of errands to run. I head outside with the Mom and kid in tow. Get in my car and start it....back out of my driveway and think "Huh, that's really weird. Am I stuck in mud?" So I get out of  the car to check...low and behold, my driver front tire. Flatter than a pancake. Seriously. You could actually see my rim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we hop out of the car and I go inside to call "Large Tire Company" (not the actual name) and have them come fix it pronto. Well, guy on the phone says "We charge $90 an hour for service calls" Excuse me? I have dealt with "Large Tire Company" ever since I owned a car. Never once, not ONCE have I been charged for them to send out the truck. After my initial shock I said "You know what, I'm going to call my father-in-law who is an executive with "Large Tire Company" and ask him, that doesn't sound right" He stammered and said "er...uh...well" then I hung up. All I could see was red.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, you see, I can't change a tire to save my life. Not on my current car (mini-van) because the bolts are simply to hard to turn. I've tried. My uncle who taught me how to drive, made sure I knew how to change a tire. My Grandpa used to take me out to his Jeep every other weekend just to make sure I could do it. Chris has put me through tire changing boot camp!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But alas, I can't do it. I don't have the Y chromosome. Ok, I could do it on my old car a Geo, but I could also lift it up from the back end....so really it doesn't count when you are dealing with a go-cart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, did I mention today was turnover day for Chris' boat? Yea, he's on a Boomer. So they have Blue Crew (boo) and Gold Crew (yea). For three months Chris crew  are out to sea. They return and hand the keys over to the blue crew, who get it ready again and then they head out to sea for three months. They come home, hand the keys back to the gold crew, they get it ready to go out....you get the picture. There is usually a month or so on either end of a patrol for fixing the boat up to go back out. The month on either end of the deployments is "refit" The busiest time for them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So today was handover the keys day. Plus, like day one or two of refit. Chris is extra, extra busy. He had to be at work at 6 am this morning. He has duty tomorrow. Yes, 24 hour duty. Monday he has duty until 7 am but then schools until 4ish. Afterward he has to go BACK to the boat, check in with his crew and make sure they didn't break anything THEN he can come home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ANYWAY, I called his cell and left frantic messages. I emailed him. I called the boat! He was busy. Very, very busy. So finally around noon or one he calls and says "don't worry, I'll take care of it when I get home. I have duty tomorrow so I'm getting cut loose early tonight" Early, in case you were wondering, turns out to be 7 pm. ANYWAY......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, he got home, put on my ugly little donut tire so I can go get it fixed tomorrow. Then he called his Dad, who actually IS an executive with "Large Tire Company". Turns out that no, it is NOT policy to charge for service calls and he will look into it first thing Monday morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sing to the tune of neener, neener, neener......Somebody's going to get fired. :)&lt;br /&gt;I know karma will bite you in the backside when you enjoy that sort of thing...but dammit after the stressful day I had. I can't help it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a positive note, my involuntary confinement to my house DID allow me to get some chores done that I've been...well, quite honestly, avoiding with trips to Starbucks. So, that's a good thing. However, I do have one hell of a caffeine headache tonight without my  5 shot peppermint mocha.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4482076110833618196-533641309828677571?l=abpsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/533641309828677571/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4482076110833618196&amp;postID=533641309828677571&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/533641309828677571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/533641309828677571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/2009/02/and-so-it-begins.html' title='And So It Begins.'/><author><name>Kristine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16672271400402571917</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SZs49nqGe-I/AAAAAAAAACg/cyJ1kiAKWPs/S220/wed5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4482076110833618196.post-4845083348906043004</id><published>2009-02-06T15:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-06T21:12:15.157-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>Taxes</title><content type='html'>So it's tax time again. You know, the time of year when your hair turns a little grayer, your vocabulary a little saltier and innocent people at the internal revenue are cursed and deemed minions of Satan himself.&lt;br /&gt;For me it is also a time to get ready for Chris next patrol. The girlfriend came home yesterday and has already decided to monopolize all his time.&lt;br /&gt;So, I did the taxes. I have had to do them before...so it's not a new process for me. But this year we have mortgage taxes and moving expenses and a whole list of other goodies that I have never seen nor heard of before today.&lt;br /&gt;To make matters worse, our moving expense W-2 was never mailed. Oh, they claimed it was mailed two weeks ago. But the last time I checked, transit time with the US postal service between Ohio and Washington was about 4 days. 14 and 4 sort of sound alike, but that's it. Unless, due to the economy, they reinstated the Pony Express.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhoo...I called them today. The Navy's defense finance department. I had a cup of coffee in hand and a snack waiting because I knew I was not going anywhere for a while. I put on my "polite" voice (you know the one, the I'm being nice but one wrong move and my head will start rotating in an unnatural way, voice)&lt;br /&gt;The man I spoke to told me they had sent it, but they would send another one. I said, "well, I would like to have it before I have to pay my taxes next year. Is there any way you can email it to me"&lt;br /&gt;Guess what. They can. It's an option. One they don't tell you about, but an option none the less. He said "sure, I can do that"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What? Wait, isn't this a government office? You are a government employee are you not? You're not supposed to be....HELPFUL!!! What will his boss say? I mean, if it gets out that he actually did something...God forbid, productive it would be total chaos. Pigs would fly, hell will freeze over and we could expect a G N' R reunion tour.&lt;br /&gt;Then I was even more shocked when he actually did what he told me he would! Yep. There in my inbox, in all it's glory was my W-2. I know! I was dumbfounded too. What is the world coming to?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I have finished my taxes. Chris is still at work and has no idea. One less stress on him right now. And I did it. I did the complex task of itemizing and deducting. Yea me. I didn't get angry or annoyed with government employees AND I'm getting a decent refund to boot!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4482076110833618196-4845083348906043004?l=abpsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/4845083348906043004/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4482076110833618196&amp;postID=4845083348906043004&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/4845083348906043004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/4845083348906043004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/2009/02/taxes.html' title='Taxes'/><author><name>Kristine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16672271400402571917</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SZs49nqGe-I/AAAAAAAAACg/cyJ1kiAKWPs/S220/wed5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4482076110833618196.post-2205574603622803355</id><published>2009-02-04T20:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T20:09:17.551-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='old stuff'/><title type='text'>Out with the Old....or rather...in With the Old</title><content type='html'>I've added some posts from my old blog on Myspace. Considering I left high school a long time ago...I decided to get a real blog. And Facebook. But some of those posts were decent and they take up space here. So...I've added them. You can find them in my archives because I kept the old dates on them. Enjoy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4482076110833618196-2205574603622803355?l=abpsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/2205574603622803355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4482076110833618196&amp;postID=2205574603622803355&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/2205574603622803355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/2205574603622803355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/2009/02/out-with-oldor-ratherin-with-old.html' title='Out with the Old....or rather...in With the Old'/><author><name>Kristine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16672271400402571917</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SZs49nqGe-I/AAAAAAAAACg/cyJ1kiAKWPs/S220/wed5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4482076110833618196.post-531807744562894909</id><published>2009-02-04T14:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T18:47:17.234-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>Birthdays and Boats and Babies Oh My!</title><content type='html'>So the other woman will be demanding my husbands undivided attention very soon. The other woman being his boat (submarine) She's a tiresome mistress.&lt;br /&gt;When I say undivided attention, I do mean it. Gracie's 8th birthday is next Thursday. Saturday is her birthday party. Do you think my husband will get to see her on either day....duty calls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He will have duty on the day of her party and duty the day before her birthday...classes all day on her birthday and then he still has to check in with his division before heading home. So we will see him for a grand total of one hour before bedtime. That's if everything goes well. Otherwise, she won't see him at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know, I don't have a problem with duty schedules...I understand why they have them and all that. I wish Chris could be home...while he's home, for Gracie's birthday. But the powers that be can't make that happen. So as usual...we'll deal with it. As a Navy wife we get used to disappointment. I don't have to like it...but that's the way it goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;UPDATE&lt;/span&gt;:&lt;/span&gt; Chris informed Gracie about the plans for her birthday. The waterworks were turned on full power, but she's a strong resilient kid...and Daddy will make it up to her with presents!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a much happier note...my cousin is going to have a baby in August!!! Hooray. It's her first and I'm super excited for her. I am trying to convince her that Kristine is the perfect name for a girl...I don't think she buys it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sister-in-law is also expecting in July. I'm trying to convince her that Kristine is the perfect name for a girl....I don't think she's buying it either.&lt;br /&gt;That has been a subject of much discussion around here. (not the name, the pregnancy) Chris only found out day before yesterday...after she was already four months along....come to find out the rest of his family has known for two months!&lt;br /&gt;He's always the last to know anything. For years he has called it the family party game of "let's keep a secret from Chris" so he is pretty used to it.&lt;br /&gt;We are really excited for her. She already has a gorgeous son and two beautiful step kids. So I am excited to see the newest addition to their brood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, like I said Gracie's 8th birthday is coming up. So be sure to check back for pictures of the worlds greatest luau party.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4482076110833618196-531807744562894909?l=abpsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/531807744562894909/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4482076110833618196&amp;postID=531807744562894909&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/531807744562894909'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/531807744562894909'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/2009/02/birthdays-and-boats-and-babies-oh-my.html' title='Birthdays and Boats and Babies Oh My!'/><author><name>Kristine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16672271400402571917</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SZs49nqGe-I/AAAAAAAAACg/cyJ1kiAKWPs/S220/wed5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4482076110833618196.post-4230866609584724925</id><published>2009-02-04T14:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T14:40:29.888-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Welcome'/><title type='text'>Welcome!</title><content type='html'>Since this is my first post I think it's only right that I welcome you. I will give you a quick overview of what this site is all about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you're here, you probably know us. Lucky you! As you know, Chris is a submarine officer, I'm a stay-at-home mom and Gracie is a second grader.&lt;br /&gt;We move around all the time. In the past 10 years of Navy life we have lived in Chicago, Chula Vista, CA, San Diego, La Grande, OR, Pullman, WA, Charleston, SC and Bangor, WA. During it all, Chris has also done time in Groton, CT, Newport, RI and Biloxi, MS. Sheesh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decided to start a blog to keep our friends and family up to date with all that goes on in our world. Not to mention, it gives me something to do when Chris is deployed!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of what will be on this blog will be family happenings but the occasional rant or rave on a topic totally unrelated to us will pop up once in a while. I'm outspoken and can't help myself. Sorry!&lt;br /&gt;So that's it. Thanks for taking time to read about us and again....Welcome!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4482076110833618196-4230866609584724925?l=abpsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/4230866609584724925/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4482076110833618196&amp;postID=4230866609584724925&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/4230866609584724925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/4230866609584724925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/2009/02/welcome.html' title='Welcome!'/><author><name>Kristine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16672271400402571917</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SZs49nqGe-I/AAAAAAAAACg/cyJ1kiAKWPs/S220/wed5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4482076110833618196.post-3585013377199010434</id><published>2008-09-04T20:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T20:23:33.752-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><title type='text'>What's in a Name.....</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;So yesterday was Gracie's first day of second grade. More importantly, it was her first day at a new school. Her third in three years, but new none-the-less. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;So, there we are, meeting the teacher. Her super sweet teacher knew she had a nickname (Gracie is actually a nickname) and asked her, so what would you like me to call you? Gracie quickly responds "Clare." I looked at her....totally dumbfounded and said "but you haven't been called Clare, a day in your life. Will you even respond to that name?" She assured me that she would and that was that. She has started introducing herself as Clare to everyone.  Her ballet teacher, classmates, bus driver and music teacher. So, now everyone here knows her only as Clare. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;She said those of us who have called her Gracie all her life, can still continue to do so...but everyone new has to call her Clare. Ok. Her teacher said she's "exerting her independence." I say my baby is growing up!&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;I don't have a problem with the name Clare...if I did, we wouldn't have named her that....but she's Gracie. Always has been. I'm trying to get used to it. I try to call her Clare at home so I can get comfortable using the name with her, and not my friend Clare who she was named after. But old habits die hard. It's like I'm talking about someone totally different. Not to mention, it's still a nickname version of her first name. Her real name is Clara!&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;When I asked her why she suddenly wanted a name change she said "well, if Selma calls and says Gracie, I'll know it's Selma or one of my old friends. If Maddie calls and says Clare, I'll know it's one of my new friends." I asked "so do Maddie and Selma have the same voice?" and she responded with a very chipper "nope" and a sly smile. I have to give her credit...it was a clever excuse.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Oh well, it could be worse. My neighbor and I were laughing about Gracie.....I mean Clare's new love of her first name and she told me how her son Logan has also changed his name this year...nobody can call him anything but Boomer. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;So for those of you who call her Gracie, she's fine with that...but anyone who meets her please refer to her as...Clare. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;I am so totally seeing therapy in her future. Split personalities.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Other than that, second grade has turned out to be teriffic. She loves her teacher, loves her school, loves her uniform, loves her classmates....except Spencer....loves riding the bus. It's a regular lovefest. And Clare is growing up.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4482076110833618196-3585013377199010434?l=abpsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/3585013377199010434/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4482076110833618196&amp;postID=3585013377199010434&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/3585013377199010434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/3585013377199010434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/2008/09/whats-in-name.html' title='What&apos;s in a Name.....'/><author><name>Kristine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16672271400402571917</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SZs49nqGe-I/AAAAAAAAACg/cyJ1kiAKWPs/S220/wed5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4482076110833618196.post-1386816720897591667</id><published>2008-06-18T20:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T20:23:07.378-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>We're Home!!!!</title><content type='html'>So much has happened in the last week or so, I don't even know where to start.&lt;br /&gt;Chris got home Really late at night ( or is that morning) on the 6th. He slept for a few hours then we started packing our truck.&lt;br /&gt;We left Charleston around 3 pm on Saturday.&lt;br /&gt;We made it to the mountains of North Carolina. Really pretty mountain town. Smack dab in the middle of the forest fires!&lt;br /&gt;The next morning we got up bright and early and drove through TN, KY, IN and finally stopped in Western Illinois. Right in the middle of a Tornado and flash flood! The flooding in Indiana, Illinois and Iowa was horrible! Roads totally covered in water. It was crazy to just be driving past like it was normal. People were actually driving boats down the streets!&lt;br /&gt;Day three took us through Iowa and Nebraska. We made it as far as Cheyenne, WY. It was COLD! Ok, it was 68 degrees, but after living in the south where it doesn't get colder than 65 EVER....we were freezing!&lt;br /&gt;Day four Wyoming, Utah, Idaho and Oregon. We drove to La Grande. WAY later than we had hoped,. Didn't get a chance to see anyone because of the time. We did however get to have Golden Crown delivered! yummy.&lt;br /&gt;However, the craziest part of that whole leg of the trip....it was snowing in LG! Driving towards Baker...it honestly looked like a blizzard!!!! When we left LG and headed west Cabbage Hill had been plowed! June 11 and they were plowing the roads. Insane.&lt;br /&gt;Finally we made it to Poulsbo. We got to our home and crashed. Our furniture didn't show up until yesterday, but we made the most of the time. We drove around the canal. Went to Edmonds for lunch. I got to show Gracie the house I grew up in, my grade school, high school and hometown. We had a really good time, and I was surprised how much hasn't changed since I lived there. It all looked the same!&lt;br /&gt;Of course, I missed seeing an old friend who stopped by. We actually ended up passing each other on the ferry. But I'm less than 10 miles from Kingston and can go "home" as often as I like. Not to mention, her parents live 5 miles from me and she is over here every weekend!&lt;br /&gt;The weather has been beautiful. Perfect. Just like I remember it.&lt;br /&gt;We love our house. It's fantastic. I'm really happy with it. Poulsbo is such a great little town and our neighbors have all come over to introduce themselves! I've met more neighbors in three days here than I did the entire time I lived in SC. I had forgotten how polite North westerners are. Gracie has lots of kids her age in the neighborhood to play with. I can't wait to go on my lunch "date" with Sarah in July and see all my old friends who are just a ferry ride away!&lt;br /&gt;It's good to be home. Now I need to unpack.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4482076110833618196-1386816720897591667?l=abpsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/1386816720897591667/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4482076110833618196&amp;postID=1386816720897591667&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/1386816720897591667'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/1386816720897591667'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/2008/06/were-home.html' title='We&apos;re Home!!!!'/><author><name>Kristine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16672271400402571917</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SZs49nqGe-I/AAAAAAAAACg/cyJ1kiAKWPs/S220/wed5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4482076110833618196.post-4502519136928407814</id><published>2008-05-28T20:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T20:09:55.322-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>10 Days Left</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;10 days! That is all I have until my husband is home!!!! Hooray!!! He has been gone for two months. As soon as he gets back, we are out of here! So long South Carolina....hello Washington!!! &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;It's bittersweet because he will have to deploy soon after we move. But that's Navy life for you. At least we get to see him before he leaves again. But, I will be home. My actual home. The birthplace of me.....so that's a plus. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;I just can't believe in 10 days he will be back. (doing a happy dance)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4482076110833618196-4502519136928407814?l=abpsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/4502519136928407814/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4482076110833618196&amp;postID=4502519136928407814&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/4502519136928407814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/4502519136928407814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/2008/05/10-days-left.html' title='10 Days Left'/><author><name>Kristine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16672271400402571917</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SZs49nqGe-I/AAAAAAAAACg/cyJ1kiAKWPs/S220/wed5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4482076110833618196.post-3157246346583548602</id><published>2008-05-12T20:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T20:04:20.752-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Our Very Own Home Sweet Home</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;It's official. Chris and I are homeowners! We closed on our house in Poulsbo today. I am half dazed by it. I have wanted my own home that I could paint and change as I see fit, for so long. A place to honestly call our own. But with military life, that's not always a reality. Until now. Finally we are moving home. Even if we have to move again (which we will....because it is the navy after all) we can still rent it out and move back when we are done.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;In the past 9 years that Chris and I have been married, I have lived in 5 states (he has lived in 7) and I have had 7 different homes. You don't want to know the tens of thousands of dollars we have wasted on someone else's mortgage. Not any more! &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Never again will I have to deal with white walls. Or mini blinds. or ceiling fans! Finally I can put my interior design degree to good use! Oh happy day!!!&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;So, today we join in on the American dream, suddenly a few hundred thousand dollars in debt, but totally overjoyed.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;BTW, if you need a good realtor....I know an awesome one!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4482076110833618196-3157246346583548602?l=abpsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/3157246346583548602/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4482076110833618196&amp;postID=3157246346583548602&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/3157246346583548602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/3157246346583548602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/2008/05/our-very-own-home-sweet-home.html' title='Our Very Own Home Sweet Home'/><author><name>Kristine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16672271400402571917</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SZs49nqGe-I/AAAAAAAAACg/cyJ1kiAKWPs/S220/wed5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4482076110833618196.post-157780886565578537</id><published>2008-03-30T20:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T20:03:33.486-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>Same Old Song and Dance....This Time to a Different Tune</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt; &lt;p&gt;Ahhh the Navy life. Once again they see fit to send my husband off to yet another school, this time in Connecticut on non-PCS orders. The military friends of mine know exactly what that means, but for everyone else out there...let me explain. PCS stand for "permanent change of station." PCS orders are anything that lasts more than three months. So non-PCS simply translated means "you have to move, but your family can’t come with you. neener, neener, neener:" &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;We are used to this. It seems that between each duty station we have a space of about 2-3 months where Chris has to go somewhere else. After the first 5 or 6 times you get used to it. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;It sucks. You’re sad and you miss them terribly but you get into a routine and it goes by pretty quick. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;This time I have to get ready to move to WA. As soon as he is done with school in Connecticut, we will have about 2 days before we head off on yet another cross country trek. I have to arrange the movers, pack my stuff and deal with housing. (again, something only those in the military can truly appreciate the pure JOY that experience brings you.) Besides that, he will be gone for both our anniversary and my birthday! However, I won’t complain. Because as soon as it is over...we will be moving into our very own home. One I can paint and do with as I please! He has said he is buying me a house for my birthday....and in essence, that is exactly what we are doing. Not to mention another perk....I have decided that for every birthday he misses I don’t have to actually age that year. Amazingly I’m still 29!&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Another reason I simply can’t let a little thing like non-PCS orders get me down is good old fashioned pride. I fancy myself as a hardened Navy wife. I’ve seen and done it all. There is nothing we hate more than whiny, wimpy wives. You know the ones. As a Navy wife, we are used to handling the daily operations of the household. We can change a flat tire and know how to call a plumber when needed. We can mow our own lawns, balance check books and kill spiders. We like to think of ourselves as super-women. So don’t go bursting our bubbles.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt; We don’t depend on our husbands as much as others because we know that they HAVE to deploy at some point. We get used to doing things for ourselves.the very nature of their jobs require them to leave for 3, 6, 9, 12 or 15 months at a time. We signed up for this life so we learn how to take it. That’s not to say we don’t enjoy having them around. Life is always better when they are home. I firmly believe that absence does indeed make the heart grow fonder. You learn to respect them, not take them for granted and enjoy every minute you have together. I would even venture to say, if you know anyone having marital problems, go away for 3 months....you’ll realize just how important that person is.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;However, back to my point, I have a "friend" who is not as seasoned as myself or some of my friends. She has never dealt with a deployment or even non-pcs orders. She has had her husband home every night since the day they got married. What MOST of us do in this non-PCS situation is one of three things. 1. stay where we have been stationed and wait 2. move to the ultimate duty station (where we will be going next) or 3. go home to Mommy and Daddy and wait it out until it’s over. The later is something we all have done. It’s actually not a bad idea if you need to save money.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;She INSISTED on moving to Connecticut with him. Which by Navy standards, is NOT an option. She, by moving up there has put a financial strain on their life and a serious strain on his ability to actually study while at this school. A stupid move on her part. One that has caused serious mocking by the rest of our flock. What she needs to realize is 1. this is her life now. If she can’t handle it...she shouldn’t have married a military man and 2. he WILL deploy. Simple fact of life. Submarines do not have a special suite in the back for the wives. She can’t go with him when he is out to sea. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;As I tried in vain to explain to her, this is a good learning experience. She can prepare for deployments. A sort of mock run, if you will. Oh no....it all fell on deft ears. No matter how many of us older, wiser and more seasoned wives explained the situation to her.  I do, I really do understand that you miss your husband. So do the rest of us. You are not special in that area. We ALL go through it. Hence the reason you should be around people who are perhaps...going through it with you. She gave me the excuse that their son would miss him. Their son isn’t even 9 months old yet. Try explaining to a 7 year old why Daddy has to miss her ballet recital and then we will talk. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;So it has hardened my resolve that much more. Whenever I want to feel sorry for myself, I just pull out my stiff upper lip and remember that I am being the sensible one. I have handled much harder separation and I am quite sure, will trudge through much harder in the future. I may sound hard and bitchy...but the fact is, this is the life we live. You need to suck it up, Buttercup. Plain and simple. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;In case you ever wondered how military wives handled it...this is it. We love our husbands just as much as every other woman loves hers. The difference...we know they are doing an important job. We are proud of them and support them. Do we cry in private...of course. But we stay strong when they leave, so they can stay strong while they are away. The last thing they need to worry about is if we are ok. They need to KNOW we are fine. After all, you wouldn’t want my husband ( or any other submariner) out there, on a nuclear submarine, in charge of a nuclear reactor....worried about anything but that boat. Disasters could happen. THAT is why we have to be strong.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4482076110833618196-157780886565578537?l=abpsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/157780886565578537/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4482076110833618196&amp;postID=157780886565578537&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/157780886565578537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/157780886565578537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/2008/03/same-old-song-and-dancethis-time-to.html' title='Same Old Song and Dance....This Time to a Different Tune'/><author><name>Kristine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16672271400402571917</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SZs49nqGe-I/AAAAAAAAACg/cyJ1kiAKWPs/S220/wed5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4482076110833618196.post-6889459312182461183</id><published>2008-03-14T19:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T20:00:27.460-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>The Joys of Moving</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;So I am thrilled that we are moving back "home" The Northwest is where Chris and I were both born and raised and we are moving a short ferry ride away from my home town. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;That said, I still have to actually....Move. You would think I was an old pro at this. Being that this is our 7th move since I’ve been married. I’ve moved 7 times in 9 years! Wow! I hadn’t thought of it like that before. Anyway, I should be good at it by now. I &lt;u&gt;&lt;em&gt;SHOULD&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/u&gt; still have crap in boxes from the last move one year ago. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;My biggest problem with this move is that we are buying a house this time. Well, we currently live on the East coast and are buying a home on the West coast. The whole..."tour the house before you buy" bit is a little hard to accomplish. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;We have had friends look at some houses, but it’s hard to keep asking people to take time out the their lives to go look at a home for me. (I’m picky) People you would think would jump at the chance to help us, are making it hard because they are being dramatic. Alas, I will have to just trust my realtor and hope for the best. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Yes, I could go over on a weekend and find something, but my husband is going to Connecticut in two weeks and my daughter is still in school. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;So, if anyone wants to take a couple hours out of their weekend, let me know. I have a list of houses I like and nobody to look at them for me!!!&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Sarah? Angela? Rona????? Just checking! :)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4482076110833618196-6889459312182461183?l=abpsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/6889459312182461183/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4482076110833618196&amp;postID=6889459312182461183&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/6889459312182461183'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/6889459312182461183'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/2008/03/so-i-am-thrilled-that-we-are-moving.html' title='The Joys of Moving'/><author><name>Kristine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16672271400402571917</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SZs49nqGe-I/AAAAAAAAACg/cyJ1kiAKWPs/S220/wed5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4482076110833618196.post-2190464894523859495</id><published>2008-02-07T20:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T20:21:26.815-08:00</updated><title type='text'>We're Moving!!! This Time it's a good thing</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Finally! We have been waiting for, what seems like forever, for the Navy to give my husband his orders. Today they came.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;We are moving back to WASHINGTON!!!!!! So long South. You won't be missed. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;I am so freaking excited I can't even express it. Washington. My Home!!!!! Don't get me wrong, I enjoy the excitement of moving all over the planet....but it's really nice when you get to go home.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;So, Angela you and the fam, my house....5 months! Wahoo! &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Stacy C. Sorry. But maybe you guys can move back too! Besides, I'm sure you'll visit the in-laws...SOMEDAY.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Rona, I expect the total spa treatment...with facial!!!! Do you have the route mapquested yet? Can I get a copy?&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Stacy S. CALM DOWN!!!!!! Heart attacks are not good, so relax. We still have 5 months!&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Sarah, It's about time. I haven't seen you in....oh God, I can't even do the math.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Jen and Alina, Yes you will see me again! See Jen, I told you!&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Greta, yeah! We can go shopping!!! Oh, I mean the girls can have a playdate. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Catherine, you're in Portland!!! ROAD TRIP!&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;I am forgetting someone....well whoever you are. Yeah!&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;I feel like I'm making an acceptance speech at the Oscars or something. Wow, I totally need to calm down!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4482076110833618196-2190464894523859495?l=abpsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/2190464894523859495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4482076110833618196&amp;postID=2190464894523859495&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/2190464894523859495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/2190464894523859495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/2008/02/were-moving-this-time-its-good-thing.html' title='We&apos;re Moving!!! This Time it&apos;s a good thing'/><author><name>Kristine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16672271400402571917</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SZs49nqGe-I/AAAAAAAAACg/cyJ1kiAKWPs/S220/wed5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4482076110833618196.post-6865629941967181785</id><published>2008-01-03T20:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T20:13:06.647-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><title type='text'>A Tribute to my Uncle Bob Hawes</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Yesterday afternoon I got a phone call. One I wasn't expecting (do we ever expect it) my Uncle Bob passed away. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Of course I'm sad at the loss. He was an amazing man, but I am grateful at how quickly he went. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;He was healthy, happy and feeling better than he had in years. He spent the holidays surrounded by family. Traveled to the coast then enjoyed football games at home on New Years Day. He was in high spirits. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Then, yesterday mid-morning, he and my Aunt were in the living room reading the paper and chatting. He got up from his chair to get something from the kitchen. According to my Aunt, still laughing about something that had just been said, when he took 4 steps and fell to the floor. Dead before he hit the ground. If that's not the way to go....I don't know what is. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;My Aunt, a true lady. Has a good stiff upper lip. She has always been sort of a hero of mine simply because she is so poised, elegant and gracious. She is fiercely independent and will be able to handle this with the same grace and wisdom she employs in all aspects of her life. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;My Uncle, what an amazing man. He has seen and done it all. I could mention any place on the planet and he would have been there, flew over it or bombed it. I swear he knew almost everyone who lived in Eastern Oregon. At my wedding, he was standing at the door shaking hands with everyone walking in (as if he were part of my receiving line). Mind you, he lived 45 miles away in a different town. But he knew them all. Humble, that man was so modest. Though he knew dignitaries, was a decorated war veteran and a successful business executive he never once boasted. He loved his family. He would have done anything for all of us. He had this laugh, just thinking about it brings a smile to my face. His nose would turn red then his cheeks (it's the Irish) he would sort of laugh under his breath until he couldn't hold it in any longer then out came the hardy belly laugh. He adored family and tradition. In return, we all cherished him.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt; I am honored to have known him. I am honored that he shared his stories with me. I am honored that he was a part of my life. I am honored to be his niece. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Rest in Peace Uncle Bob. I love you.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4482076110833618196-6865629941967181785?l=abpsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/6865629941967181785/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4482076110833618196&amp;postID=6865629941967181785&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/6865629941967181785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/6865629941967181785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/2008/01/tribute-to-my-uncle-bob-hawes.html' title='A Tribute to my Uncle Bob Hawes'/><author><name>Kristine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16672271400402571917</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SZs49nqGe-I/AAAAAAAAACg/cyJ1kiAKWPs/S220/wed5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4482076110833618196.post-8776821088241405664</id><published>2007-12-21T20:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T20:13:50.660-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><title type='text'>George Washington....the Rock Star</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;So last night my husband and I were watching Jeopardy with our six year old daughter Gracie. It was kids week and we thought, she can get these. Most of the questions she did great. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;They showed a picture of Mount Rushmore asking what it was called, and low and behold she was able to guess the name. We had tivo'ed it so we paused on the picture. When Gracie get's really excited and says "Hey, that guy on the left looks &lt;u&gt;JUST&lt;/u&gt; like the guy on the quarter....(insert thoughtful pause)...and the guy on the one dollar!" &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Of course, my husband responds with an emphatic, "It &lt;u&gt;IS&lt;/u&gt; the guy on the quarter and the one dollar, that's George Washington, our first president" &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;To which my daughter says "wow, he must be famous or something"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4482076110833618196-8776821088241405664?l=abpsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/8776821088241405664/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4482076110833618196&amp;postID=8776821088241405664&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/8776821088241405664'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/8776821088241405664'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/2007/12/george-washingtonthe-rock-star.html' title='George Washington....the Rock Star'/><author><name>Kristine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16672271400402571917</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SZs49nqGe-I/AAAAAAAAACg/cyJ1kiAKWPs/S220/wed5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4482076110833618196.post-1671268088068732810</id><published>2007-12-07T20:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T20:20:49.105-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Policemen are Our Friends.....I Think</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;So I have waited to write about the events of my weekend until I could organize my thoughts into something intelligible. Unfortunately for me, that hasn't happened yet so I decided what the heck I'll give it a go anyway.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;So Saturday, I'm minding my happy little business. I go to Starbucks to get a latte and head off to mail some Christmas gifts at the UPS store. I pull into the parking spot and well....park. Turn off my car and was in the process of getting out of my car when WHAM! the guy getting into the mammoth of a truck parked next to me slams his door into the passenger side of my car. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;As most of you know....I tend to let my Irish temper get the best of me at times. Well, this so happened to one of those moments. Since my door was already half open, I jump out of my car and run to the other side of my car (admiring the fantastic parking job on my part) I quickly notice a line of silver paint on my door. My car is blue...the truck is silver. Sooooo, I yelled! "HEY YOU HIT MY CAR"&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;His response?....shut his door and starts to back out of the parking spot. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;At this point I should pause and add that really....the paint is not a big deal and can be removed without much effort. However, I wanted an apology. I wanted him to acknowledge what he had done and simply say "I'm sorry, I was careless" at which point I would have said something like "no harm, just be more careful" or "it's ok" and gone about my business of mailing Christmas presents.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;No...he couldn't be bothered with the messy details of all that. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Now, no one can EVER say "the police are never around when you need them" because within seconds of him throwing his truck into reverse an off duty cop runs up and slaps his badge against the careless door openers window and forces him to pull forward.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Reluctantly, he does what he is told. My knight in shining armor Leon, then flashes his badge and ID at me so I know he is for real. His wife enters the scene quickly and introduces herself to me. Laura. They saw the whole thing as they were getting into their car. As it turns out, when the door hit my car my whole car shook. Luckily I have a tough car because there is no dent.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;I talked to him for a minute told him what happened. Mind you the entire time Mr. door opener is sitting in his truck on the phone. However, he wasn't calling his lawyer, the police or his insurance company. NO! He was calling his buddies. Who were there quickly. He wouldn't talk to me or Leon. At that point Leon called the police. He was one guy...off duty and he said something wasn't right.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Enter 10 friends. Surrounding us. At which point the guy gets out of his truck. He says, while the recognizable smell of beer follows him, "I didn't hit your car." "You didn't see that." "You're lying." and my favorite. "You're trying to swindle me" Leon asks us both for license, registration and proof of insurance. I diligently oblige. Handing him all of that AND my military ID. Just in case. Door hitter, walked away. Not far, just over to his friends. "He repeats his rants about my not seeing him hit my car. It must have been someone else...blah blah blah. So I simply say, "ok, but we are parked at a shopping center, I'm sure there are video cameras here. We'll just ask the store if we can see them. The video will show who hit my car. He paused for a minute....letting it soak in. Then he said well I didn't mean to hit it. Leon asks him again for a license. Suddenly he can't speak English. Funny, Swindle isn't exactly and introductory word at language lab. Fine, whatever...enter the "translator" &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Forgive me, but she was the poster child for white trash inbred. As it turns out...in two hours of conversation with Leon and another officer, she is a....um..professional "working girl?" And has been arrested for pimping out her 14 year old daughter. Why they were both arrested just a month ago! &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Really, at this point I'm thinking "what the hell did I get myself into?" &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Somewhere in the hours that passed it came about that the door guy didn't have a drivers license. Well, we could figure that one out. Nor did he have insurance. Another shock. The vin number had been removed from the truck and the out of date registration was for a man named Irving. Well, having lived in San Diego for many years, I am pretty sure a Hispanic guy who needs a "translator" isn't going to be named Irving. I was still willing to give him the benefit of the doubt...mostly because I was fearing for my life at this point.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;So, enter Officer P. He knew exactly who he was. Had pulled him over not two weeks earlier. He didn't have a license then either. He let him go, but state law dictates you have to have one within a week or go to jail. Failure to have one twice and it's a felony. This made twice because even though I kind of ignored him when he asked if I was a witness to him driving without a license...Leon had seen him. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Next thing I knew, he had cuffs on him and was being placed in the backseat of the police car. So, I asked "what's going to happen to him?" "He's going to jail" Then I was asked if I will go to the court hearing...at which point I pretend to act as a concerned citizen and ask when. I'm told the 18 to which I quickly reply "can't I'll be out of town for the holidays" &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Now, I don't like to lie. Especially to a police officer. But this guy is bad. His friends are bad and I was told in no uncertain terms by Leon to avoid that area for a few months and remove a sticker from that back of my car that is obvious so as not to draw attention to my car. Yes, he is a gang banger. His friends, 10 of whom had plenty of time to draw a sketch of me had they wanted, know exactly what I look like. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;So yea...NO. I don't think I want to show up to court. I wasn't that mad to start and I was told by Officer P. that he was illegal and would most likely be deported. Well if that's not a reason to hate someone, I don't know what is! It turns out, they had 8 separate charges against him at that moment. More were sure to follow once they got him to the station and went over his record. Hitting my car wasn't one of them. Attempting to leave the scene was....but only one. 7 more had nothing to do with me. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Still I did feel bad. I didn't set out that morning to get anyone arrested. I certainly didn't intend on getting someone deported! &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;I am grateful that Leon was there. Had he decided to confront me alone this post could have a totally different ending. Nonetheless, I wish I could have a do-over. Take a Mulligan on this one.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Needless to say, I can no longer go to Barnes and Noble or Bed Bath and Beyond because they are in that parking lot. I had to remove a sticker that I love, two hours of my life are wasted that I can never get back, a Mexican gang wants to kill me. A prostitute wants to kill me and if I had just kept my mouth shut perhaps my father in law would have his Christmas present by now and I could have enjoyed my latte when it was warm.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4482076110833618196-1671268088068732810?l=abpsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/1671268088068732810/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4482076110833618196&amp;postID=1671268088068732810&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/1671268088068732810'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/1671268088068732810'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/2007/12/policemen-are-our-friendsi-think.html' title='Policemen are Our Friends.....I Think'/><author><name>Kristine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16672271400402571917</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SZs49nqGe-I/AAAAAAAAACg/cyJ1kiAKWPs/S220/wed5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4482076110833618196.post-8205696375185497185</id><published>2007-11-28T20:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T20:15:27.572-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fall</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;It's that time of year again. The leaves turn every color in the rainbow and everywhere you look the trees look like they are on fire with color. The air is crisp and cool. The birds head south. We put on sweaters and drink hot chocolate. Light a fire in the fireplace and the smell of wood smoke fills the air at night. Frost greets us in the morning and winter greets us with that soft, gentle, quiet first snow. Peaceful. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;However, I live in the South. Where the leaves are just now starting to change color. There is no frost in the morning. The chilly air is still a mild 70 degrees. There will be no peaceful first snow any time soon. Last time they saw snow was 1989. There is no need for a fireplace here. So the smell of wood smoke is out of the question....unless I burn down my neighbors house. The birds have indeed headed south. They come here for the winter. Because they are wise and no one in their right mind spends the summer here.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;In short I am homesick. I miss the north. I miss the seasons. I miss the cold nights where the world is lit by moonlight and snow, and it's almost as bright as day. Every sound is muffled by the blanket of white. When your nose hurts from the cold but you stay out just a little longer to enjoy the beauty. I miss the crunch of leaves under my feet. The warmth of a sweater and new mittens. Seeing your breath. The crackle of a fire and smell of real pine trees. My house is decorated for Christmas, but it's not the same.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4482076110833618196-8205696375185497185?l=abpsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/8205696375185497185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4482076110833618196&amp;postID=8205696375185497185&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/8205696375185497185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/8205696375185497185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/2007/11/fall.html' title='Fall'/><author><name>Kristine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16672271400402571917</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SZs49nqGe-I/AAAAAAAAACg/cyJ1kiAKWPs/S220/wed5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4482076110833618196.post-1539027455665128127</id><published>2007-08-07T20:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T20:16:18.173-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>What NOT to do when company is coming</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;If cleanliness is next to godliness, and children are a gift from God....why are they so messy? My very dear friend Stacy and her boys are coming for a visit tomorrow. This morning I cleaned my house....as I tend to do every morning. &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;Silly me, I was just sure it would stay picked up throughout the day. Then I remembered I have a 6 year old. &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;It is a miracle how quickly a child....who is barely half my height can destroy a room. I mean she can mess it up before I'm even done cleaning it. That's how efficient she is. So, I cleaned it again, and again. Finally I had an idea...tell my human tornado to go clean her room. After all, her friends will be here tomorrow. So she does! Amazing right? Not so much.&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;After a half hour of silence in her room (if you know my daughter, you know silence is never good) I decide I should check on her. She did in fact clean her room. However, when she was done she decided to build a roller coaster. Using her books, chairs and various other things. She has a beautiful roller coaster-ish marvel snaking it's way around her entire room. She's calling her work of art the Poke' coaster  in honor of Pokemon. Her floor is buried in 3 feet of roller coaster goodness and she has her table set up smack dab in the center of her room in preparation for her Pokemon tea party she is planning to have with my friends boys. Repeat BOYS.&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt; She got a hold of paper plates and has decorated them to look like wheels. She taped construction paper together in long strips to connect the "cars" and has even added aesthetic touches like a "tree" and "mountains" for scenery. Oh yes, she has thought of everything. &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;Anyway, I don't have the energy to clean it all up again...at least not tonight. So, looks like the boys might have to endure the Poke-coaster and subsequent tea party. I wonder if she has tiaras for them to wear?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4482076110833618196-1539027455665128127?l=abpsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/1539027455665128127/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4482076110833618196&amp;postID=1539027455665128127&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/1539027455665128127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/1539027455665128127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/2007/08/what-not-to-do-when-company-is-coming.html' title='What NOT to do when company is coming'/><author><name>Kristine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16672271400402571917</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SZs49nqGe-I/AAAAAAAAACg/cyJ1kiAKWPs/S220/wed5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4482076110833618196.post-8905440699641556651</id><published>2007-07-02T20:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T20:19:22.568-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friends'/><title type='text'>It doesn't make sense</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Why do some people skate through life...without a care in the world. Never having to remove the rose colored glasses? Really, it doesn't make sense to me. These twits are out there, unaware what real pain and suffering is. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;More importantly, what do you tell a friend who is going through the worst possible torture a parent could go through? Mind you, for the second time in her life. How do you help her? How can you say everything is going to be alright when in fact you know it simply will not be alright...ever?&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;All I could do was repeat over and over "Oh my God, oh my God" I'm supposed to come up with something profound. I'm the proverbial shoulder. I'm supposed to be a rock. All I could do is cry. I don't think I have ever in my life, broken down and actually cried when someone needed me to be the strong one. This was a first. Of course it was a giant, ocean sized shock, but that's beside the point. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;So I am asking you...how do you respond? Perhaps in your unclouded minds you can give me some thought provoking wisdom. What do you say to your friend who needs you to tell her it will be alright? &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4482076110833618196-8905440699641556651?l=abpsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/8905440699641556651/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4482076110833618196&amp;postID=8905440699641556651&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/8905440699641556651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/8905440699641556651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/2007/07/it-doesnt-make-sense.html' title='It doesn&apos;t make sense'/><author><name>Kristine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16672271400402571917</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SZs49nqGe-I/AAAAAAAAACg/cyJ1kiAKWPs/S220/wed5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4482076110833618196.post-3099199013592867681</id><published>2007-02-13T19:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T19:58:48.404-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><title type='text'>My Baby is Growing Up</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Yesterday was Gracie's 7th birthday. 7!!! For some reason, 7 hit me harder than the rest. Maybe it's because 7 seems less "little girl" and more "pre-teen." Whatever the reason it just seems weird. I remember when I was 7. Sarah and I were already planning our future weddings with the Dans, Davids and Brandons of our Barbie and Ken collections. I remember when I was her age, feeling like I was half grown. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;I still don't let her go across the street by herself to play! I still see her as a baby! I know, I need to let her grow up....a little.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;I'm excited that she will soon be growing up very close to the same town I spent my childhood. While she has loved living in each new place we move, I am excited that when she looks back on her childhood (half of which is already in the past) she will have the same happy memories of the very places that I loved when I was growing up. I remember my hometown and my childhood as a fairy tale, happy place. Kids could be kids and the bad guys lived somewhere else. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;I can't wait for her to grow up with the children of my childhood friends. Kolleen and I are already planning playdates! &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Anyway...a little off topic. So...Gracie is now 7. She has her own taste in music, clothes and boys (the latter gives me heartburn) she is growing up. I have to say, I'm pretty proud of the young lady she is growing in to.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4482076110833618196-3099199013592867681?l=abpsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/3099199013592867681/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4482076110833618196&amp;postID=3099199013592867681&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/3099199013592867681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/3099199013592867681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/2007/02/my-baby-is-growing-up.html' title='My Baby is Growing Up'/><author><name>Kristine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16672271400402571917</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SZs49nqGe-I/AAAAAAAAACg/cyJ1kiAKWPs/S220/wed5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4482076110833618196.post-3183045537098888617</id><published>2007-01-16T20:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T20:27:28.908-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>We made it!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Well we made it. We are finally residents of South Carolina! It was a VERY long road. Let me tell you all about it.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Day 1: we left Washington. It started to snow and the freezing fog was just rolling in. What fun. We said our goodbyes to our dear neighbors :( and set off on our adventure. Well, the trip was fine, we made it to Pendleton, OR. Everything was great, sun was shinning but it was cold. However, minor problem....Cabbage hill was closed. We had to buy chains for both my car and a U-haul. We waited, and waited...finally they opened it back up and we started over the mountain. 2 1/2 hours later we were in La Grande. Let me tell you, I have never been so happy to see LG in my life. By this time it was 7 pm. We decided to stay the night. 9 hours, and we made it 150 miles. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Day 2: we got up bright and early and headed out. To avoid the blizzard in Denver and Wyoming we decided to head south and hit I-40. We made it to Filmore, UT when the snow started. Though we avoided the huge blizzard we still saw the back side of it. So we settled in and called it a night. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Day 3: Decided to take a detour to avoid going all the way to Vegas. Went through Zion National Park. With a U-haul! It was beautiful, but scary as hell. We went past the Grand Canyon...also beautiful. Got into Flagstaff, AZ and pushed on to Winslow, AZ. Ok, let me tell you, that is the creepiest little twilight zone town ever. I won't even go into that.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Day 4: We made it as far as Grants, New Mexico. a whole 4 hours away. Why you ask? Because the blizzard in Denver shut down all the roads leading out of New Mexico. Did any of you know it snows there? Neither did I. So, we got a hotel and settled in around noon. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Day 5: New years Eve! I-40 is still closed. Still stuck in New Mexico. We made the most of it and enjoyed ourselves. We were just really thankful we had a really nice hotel and weren't one of the thousands of people stuck in their cars on the freeway. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Day 6: I-40 was STILL closed. So we detoured and went south...REALLY south. We went into El Paso,TX. Who knew when we started this trip that we would be seeing Mexico! That night we pushed all the way to Abeline, TX. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Day 7: We drove through Texas...all of it....the long way. We went through Big D. and made it to Rona's hometown around 2. Of course, she isn't there anymore, so I made a quick phone call to her, we gassed up and got back on the road. About an hour or so later we were driving into Louisana. I can't tell you what a great feeling it was to actually be in the south. Finally. That night we pushed all the way to Tuscaloosa, Alabama. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Day 8: Woke up before the sun and drove 8 more hours to Charleston, SC. We made it here before everything closed! We got into our house that day. What a relief.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;The next day our furniture was delivered and then it took a few more days for the phone and cable to get connected. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;So, we are here. It's gorgeous. I can't believe how many trees they have here. Reminds me of the Northwest. We have had a few hot days. Mostly warm and muggy. I LOVE my new house. It's so wonderful. I'll add pictures of it one of these days. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;We said we wanted it to be an adventure and it was. Be careful what you wish for.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4482076110833618196-3183045537098888617?l=abpsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/3183045537098888617/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4482076110833618196&amp;postID=3183045537098888617&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/3183045537098888617'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4482076110833618196/posts/default/3183045537098888617'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abpsoup.blogspot.com/2009/02/we-made-it.html' title='We made it!'/><author><name>Kristine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16672271400402571917</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iu23oEZXgbg/SZs49nqGe-I/AAAAAAAAACg/cyJ1kiAKWPs/S220/wed5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
