<?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'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3078812346236571262</id><updated>2009-11-14T19:24:06.477-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A Moment For Myself</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ckbruce.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3078812346236571262/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ckbruce.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3078812346236571262/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25'/><author><name>Christian Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10400614534690575254</uri><email>ckbruce@rocketmail.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>49</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3078812346236571262.post-1426144671879073483</id><published>2009-08-14T22:32:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-14T23:31:19.487-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='puppy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='foster'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bordatella'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dogs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sick'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kennel cough'/><title type='text'>Sick house</title><content type='html'>I am a strange sort of germaphobe. You can  ask my family and they will tell you that I have never kissed my family on the lips, never shared a drink with them or eaten from the same utensil as them. I don't like for people to touch my food or god forbid someone cough, breathe or sneeze on my food. That is the end of my meal. So on birthdays we cut a piece of cake for me prior to the candles being blown out. Yes, I am that weird. Yet, I love my dogs' kisses and don't mind them sneezing or coughing on me. I clean up their vomit and other body fluids and have no qualms about it. What is my point, you ask? Well...I am currently living in the germiest house on the block and it is driving me NUTS!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cody and Cooper both have Bordatella aka Kennel Cough! Even though they are both vaccinated every 6 months for Bordatella, it apparently doesn't give you any sort of guarantee. Coop is starting his 15th day of antibiotics (1 month regimen) and Cody is just finishing his first week's worth. Cooper has had it the worst between the two of them. Hacking so much he throws up, projectile vomiting, drooling, runny nose, goopy eyes and of course the cough. Cody has the runny nose, goopy eyes and has just started the cough. I hope his doesn't get as bad as Coop's. Now this isn't too bad. I love my babies and will take care of them every minute they need it. What's bad then? OUR FOSTER DOG, IVAN!!! That's right. We have a foster pup and have had him for 16 days now. He is only 6-8 weeks old. He is a tyrant, but that is another story LOL. Apparently puppies don't have strong immune systems since they haven't been around long enough for it to build up. So he is SICK! It sounds like he has pneumonia (they checked and he doesn't). Like a kid with croup. He coughs and coughs and coughs and coughs. Not only does he cough, he spits up phlegmy stuff every time he coughs. His nose is running which is making him spit up more stuff as it runs down his throat. It is soooo gross! And then to make matters even worse, he has two types of parasites. Coccydia (don't know if I spelled that right or not) and round worms. I have never had to deal with worms before and let me tell you, it is N-A-S-T-Y!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel sorry for Ivan as he is only a little pup but he doesn't do a good job of playing the "poor, sick puppy" role. He bites, bites, chews and did I say "bites?" He jumps on you and bites, jumps at you and bites, runs at you and bites, sneaks up to you and bites.....We have our hands full to say the least.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So back to the sick house...Cody and Coop are both on a month's worth of Doxycycline. The puppy, Ivan, is on 2 weeks of Doxycycline, 2 weeks of Amoxycillin, and a week of Albon. He has had 3 dewormers too. I am giving so many meds around here that I forget to take my own!  The worst part is that Ivan was supposed to be neutered yesterday which would have meant we would only be fostering him for another couple days, but since he is so sick, the neuter has been postponed until next week and most likely we will have him until his meds are gone...at least.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The scary thing is that Kennel Cough (called such because it is prevelant in areas where dogs are confined in close quarters such as kennels, groomers, vets, dog shows etc...) is still contagious for 1-2 months AFTER symptoms have subsided. I am so afraid they will just keep passing it back and forth to each other. No dog parks, no Petsmart etc...for a couple months at least. Tomorrow they get their 2nd round of Bordatella vaccinations so far this year. I have been told that if they hadn't had the vaccine, they would have been a lot more sick. So I am very glad that we keep them up to date on all their vaccines, even if my husband thinks they are a scam now that they both have come down with something they were vaccinated for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can hardly eat because all I can think about is the germs. How do you disinfect hard wood floors? Ugh...this is going to be a long 2 weeks until Ivan can be put up for adoption. And before you think I am horrible, when he went to the vet clinic, I had dropped him off because I had to work. I dropped him off about noon and said I would be back at 4:00pm. At 12:45 the vet called and said Ivan was done and she had all his meds ready to go. She said "now when are you coming to get him?" (like she didn't already know) I said "4:00pm as both my husband and I have to work." She said "4:00? Oh my gosh...ok. Well, he is going off over here (he screeches this high pitched screech all day long and during the night some too. It used to be most of the night). I guess it will be a long day." Yes, the vet who works at an animal shelter, who deals with dogs, puppies, cats and kittens all day, every day, was exasperated by Ivan. He is just a handful. Needless to say, we will not be fostering puppies again. Dogs, yes. Puppies, no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wish me luck!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i45.photobucket.com/albums/f67/comfortjunkie/signature.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3078812346236571262-1426144671879073483?l=ckbruce.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ckbruce.blogspot.com/feeds/1426144671879073483/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3078812346236571262&amp;postID=1426144671879073483&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3078812346236571262/posts/default/1426144671879073483'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3078812346236571262/posts/default/1426144671879073483'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ckbruce.blogspot.com/2009/08/sick-house.html' title='Sick house'/><author><name>Christian Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10400614534690575254</uri><email>ckbruce@rocketmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17665716646528108641'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3078812346236571262.post-8167547933952147832</id><published>2009-06-21T22:08:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-21T22:33:42.972-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy to be a vegetarian!</title><content type='html'>I have been a vegetarian for going on 2 years now. It has been pretty difficult to find foods that are fulfilling and yummy at the same time. In fact, I am probably the UNhealthiest vegetarian you will ever meet. I live on french fries and ice cream, I am not fond of veggies and tofu makes me gag. Because of this, I was actually a pescetarian (fish eater) for most of the 2 years but have recently cut fish out of my diet as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People are always asking why I chose to become a vegetarian. Well, without writing a really long post, I will briefly touch on my reasons. I do not live a vegetarian lifestyle for health reasons, I do it for moral reasons. I do not agree with the way animals are slaughtered for our use. If you haven't seen the videos, I urge you to watch them. There is nothing humane about the meat industry. It isn't that I believe that people shouldn't eat animals, it is that I believe we have commercialized the industry so much that we no longer show any respect to the animals. Ramming electric rods up pig's and cow's anuses and vaginas. Slamming chickens and baby pigs against the ground when they are "uncooperative." Crowding hundreds of animals together with no room to even turn around or lay down, while expecting them to live in these conditions for months. Stunning a cow (which doesn't actually work) then slitting their throat and watching them convulse as they bleed to death. Slitting the throats of chickens as they hang in front of you, then throwing them in a pot of boiling water before they are even dead. Throwing male chicks into a gigantic blender because they are unable to produce eggs. These are just a few examples. And there is a ton of evidence proving all of this, don't even try to say it is made up propaganda. (Some people don't believe it even when shown the proof).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So...I choose to be a vegetarian for moral reasons. If I knew the animals were being humanely treated while alive and humanely euthanized, I would be able to eat their meat. But since the industry is a cruel, cruel reality, I choose not to eat meat. My husband has eaten only chicken for over a year and recently has taken the step to eliminate even chicken from his diet. I am so proud of him because like me, he does not like alot of vegetables or healthy foods. We eat mostly pastas and Mexican dishes made with beans instead of meat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, the point of this post is that we tried Morningstar vegetarian bacon and vegetarian Grillers Prime (hamburgers) and we are IN LOVE!! I can't even tell you just how good they are! The bacon (fakon is what I call it) tastes like turkey bacon and the Grillers Prime taste JUST like a hamburger. So yummy! I am just so excited about this! I have eaten so many unfulfilling meals since cutting meat out of my diet, gone to bed hungry so many times and now...there are a multitude of options for me. All vegetarian: Maple flavored sausage patties, original sausage patties, sausage crumbles (for biscuits and gravy), hamburger crumbles (we can have TACOS again!!), chicken nuggets, chicken patties, bbq riblets and so much more! I can't wait to try them all. The 2nd best part (the best being that they are cruelty free) is that their prices are comparible to their meat counterparts. Yay!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So please, tell your friends and family that they can eat yummy things that are cruelty free and are also lower in fat, calories and cholesterol! They taste great and you can feel good about eating them. I am so happy I decided to try the Morningstar brand. It took us so long to try it because we had tried BOCA veggie burgers at Burger King before and YUCK! They were NOT good. So we shyed away from trying anything vegetarian after that. Thankfully we found the Morningstar brand though because they make delicious meat free options!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i45.photobucket.com/albums/f67/comfortjunkie/signature.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3078812346236571262-8167547933952147832?l=ckbruce.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ckbruce.blogspot.com/feeds/8167547933952147832/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3078812346236571262&amp;postID=8167547933952147832&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3078812346236571262/posts/default/8167547933952147832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3078812346236571262/posts/default/8167547933952147832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ckbruce.blogspot.com/2009/06/happy-to-be-vegetarian.html' title='Happy to be a vegetarian!'/><author><name>Christian Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10400614534690575254</uri><email>ckbruce@rocketmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17665716646528108641'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3078812346236571262.post-9177800550211719092</id><published>2009-05-07T22:27:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-21T22:34:44.645-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Appreciating the small things.</title><content type='html'>I am not going to deny it, I am addicted to reading blogs. However, the sorts of blogs that I choose to spend hours upon hours reading are not what you would describe as "cheery" or "uplifting." I read about:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* baby Jonah who was born with a rare skin disorder&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://patriceandmattwilliams.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://patriceandmattwilliams.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* baby Kayleigh who is fighting for her life  &lt;a href="http://kayleighannefreeman.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://kayleighannefreeman.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt; UPDATE: Unfortunately, Kayleigh lost her fight for life. RIP baby Kayleigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* sweet Summer who is 3 years old and has cancer &lt;a href="http://shelightsupmylife.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://shelightsupmylife.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Heather, a young mom who is currently undergoing chemo &lt;a href="http://thesnydernews.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://thesnydernews.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Nienie who survived a plane crash with her husband  &lt;a href="http://nieniedialogues.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://nieniedialogues.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*C who lost her infant son at birth &lt;a href="http://theinterruptedgirl.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://theinterruptedgirl.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Noah who is currently in the NICU after being shaken by his daycare provider &lt;a href="http://www.noahsroad.com/"&gt;http://www.noahsroad.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Matt who lost his wife the day after she gave birth to their baby girl Madeline&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mattlogelin.com/"&gt;http://www.mattlogelin.com/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are the stories I read daily. These people are going through so much and yet they continue to stay strong. The strangest part is these people are all very in touch with their spiritual sides. I on the other hand am an agnostic married to an atheist, but I can't stop reading these blogs. I do admit to skimming over the Bible verses but other than that, I read every word. These stories, these people inspire me. I want to appreciate my life and my family more. I need to make a point of it. I know my husband feels under appreciated and I know it is my job to make him feel appreciated. I am going to try. I know my babies are not getting the daily attention they need and I am going to try to rectify that as well. I am also going to try to stay in touch with my family more whether by mail, email, phone or in person. My own aunt is currently living with Multiple Myeloma and enduring weekly chemo. I need to make it a point to be more of a constant in her life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am going to try to enjoy my life more, even if there aren't many days I can fully enjoy. I am going on day 8 in bed with the not so swine flu...so I have been pretty down, but at least I know this will end and I will get to enjoy the days to come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just need to work on appreciating my family, my life and my health (what little I have). That is my mid year's resolution.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From now on I want to make note of the small things that make me happy. Here is my list for today:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Having the luxury of staying home when I am sick. Thankfully I have a job that allows it and a husband who understands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*The grunting noise that Cody has been making for about the past month. It is so soft, so sweet and like music to my ears. Even at 4:00am as he does it on my pillow next to my ear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*The softness of my boys' hair when they have a fresh haircut. Nothing compares. It is like running your hand across mink.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Having a husband who works hard, very, very hard and then comes home and works hard here too. All to take care of his family. Even if he hates it, he does it for us. (Thank you, Honey).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Watching my boys entertain themselves by wrestling with each other and the moaning and groaning that goes along with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*The sweetness that is Cody laying across my lap while I try to type this post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*The sweet way Cody nudges my hand to get me to rub his head and ears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Knowing that every time I put on lip gloss, Cooper will come running to lick my finger. And how I can always count on him trying to run off with the lip gloss tucked into his mouth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*The cute, hurried way Cooper runs to the bedroom when it is night night time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*The comforting way Cody curls up on my pillow and on dad's pillow to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*The sweet way both Cody and Cooper turn into snuggle bugs when they get a hair cut.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*The kind way my husband is always willing to make an extra stop for me if I want food from someplace different than everyone else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*The way my Mom calls to make sure I am taking my probiotics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*The way my 10 year old sister emails me and keeps me up to date on her life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*The way my step daughter is open to discussion, rather than getting defensive. Though I am sure this won't last much longer since we are entering the teen years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SgO0KUsaTaI/AAAAAAAAASc/6DgKwY0qwT8/s1600-h/run+my+loves.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SgO0KUsaTaI/AAAAAAAAASc/6DgKwY0qwT8/s400/run+my+loves.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333304473183473058" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SgO0J2Y4O5I/AAAAAAAAASU/DddX_PT4eUc/s1600-h/he%27s+got+skills.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SgO0J2Y4O5I/AAAAAAAAASU/DddX_PT4eUc/s400/he%27s+got+skills.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333304465048484754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SgO0JiFhyhI/AAAAAAAAASM/7sGPn9SuRyc/s1600-h/brother+and+sister.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SgO0JiFhyhI/AAAAAAAAASM/7sGPn9SuRyc/s400/brother+and+sister.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333304459598613010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SgO0JVFoFqI/AAAAAAAAASE/PtDH6M7s3DY/s1600-h/sweet+face+coop.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SgO0JVFoFqI/AAAAAAAAASE/PtDH6M7s3DY/s400/sweet+face+coop.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333304456109364898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SgO0JE5FleI/AAAAAAAAAR8/dBhVdepNHEA/s1600-h/cody+and+cooper+climb+the+tree+after+the+squirrel.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SgO0JE5FleI/AAAAAAAAAR8/dBhVdepNHEA/s400/cody+and+cooper+climb+the+tree+after+the+squirrel.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333304451761804770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i45.photobucket.com/albums/f67/comfortjunkie/signature.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3078812346236571262-9177800550211719092?l=ckbruce.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ckbruce.blogspot.com/feeds/9177800550211719092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3078812346236571262&amp;postID=9177800550211719092&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3078812346236571262/posts/default/9177800550211719092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3078812346236571262/posts/default/9177800550211719092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ckbruce.blogspot.com/2009/05/appreciating-small-things.html' title='Appreciating the small things.'/><author><name>Christian Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10400614534690575254</uri><email>ckbruce@rocketmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17665716646528108641'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SgO0KUsaTaI/AAAAAAAAASc/6DgKwY0qwT8/s72-c/run+my+loves.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3078812346236571262.post-7825705146213466221</id><published>2009-04-21T11:06:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-21T11:28:59.411-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Writer's Block</title><content type='html'>I know I haven't posted in over a month. Things have happened. Even interesting things have happened but I just don't feel like writing. Not that anyone is reading anyway lol but I want to have record of the fun things and the sad things and the mundane things that happen to me so I can read them 30 years from now and reminisce about what life was like. But for now, there is nothing. I just don't feel like getting into details so I will briefly show all that has gone on in the past month and 1/2.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Bella (aka Della) had to be put to sleep. In the end she was miserable but she was thankful that my mom gave her a 2nd chance at life even if only for a month. RIP Bella Della.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*We fostered Bella (aka Della) for a month before Mom adopted her to give her hospice in her last days. She was suffering from renal failure, liver failure and some tumor of unknown origin. Poor girl. She was so needy...she just wanted love. She was completely deaf and had cataracts that caused her to be blind in the dark. An old girl that ended up on the streets alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I had 2 cavities filled (due to meds) that caused a month long green bruise on my cheek which caused people to refer to me as Rihanna. Not to mention the pain. Oh the pain. It is almost 8 weeks later and I still can't sleep on my side because my face hurts so much. Nor can I chew with the right side of my mouth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Mastoiditis. A long, painful infection of the mastoid bone which required 2 rounds of extremely dangerous antibiotics. Thankfully that is over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I visited my family in Springfield. Kennis came with me. Had a blast even if I was sick the entire time. Mom cut and colored my hair AND straightened it for the first time in my life! Strange feeling after having curly hair for 28 years but it isn't permanent. Wash it and the curls are back!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*More roof leaks. On our "guaranteed" roof work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Frank discovered a field up the road from us which is perfect for taking the boys to play frisbie. We have had alot of fun there. However, every time I take them...they rub themselves in something disgusting and I in turn have to come home and bathe them. Cooper found a dead mouse there too. Decided to carry it around in his mouth. OMG disgusting!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*KC Pet Expo was a blast! Tons and tons of animals there. Animal Haven had a few adoptions that I am aware of. One was a big, fat cat that Kaylee pushed around in a stroller the entire time. I am talking fat....like over 20 lbs fat. But that was what made her special.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Frank made me a fabulous dinner to welcome me home from Springfield. He is probably regretting it now because I am requesting it ALL THE TIME. It was a balsamic vinegar, garlic and honey reduction glazed salmon filet with garlic rice, an artichoke and garlic butter. So freaking yummy! I had it again last night and my mouth is watering just thinking about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I lost 17 lbs. Well this is over the course of about 6 months but the last 12 lbs has been in the last 3 months and I don't know what the deal is. I am NOT complaining because I need to lose weight and want to but I haven't exactly been trying. That's ok with me though. :) Just sucks because I don't have clothes that fit right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Everyone and their mother (literally) is pregnant. Jaclyn, Suzie, Itza (Suzie's mom), Natalie and another girl too (but she isn't really a friend, I just work with her). So many pregnancy hormones. And no pregnancy blues on my part, that's for sure!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Cooper fell off the bed....Poor baby. He landed with a giant thud at about 2:30am. Scared the crap out of me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*When I got home from Springfield...Cody was so depressed he would hardly look at me. He is usually soooooo over excited to see me even if I have been gone 10 minutes. But apparently I devestated him by leaving for 2 1/2 days. It took him one day to snap out of it but needless to say it broke my heart. Poor baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Kaylee decided the flute was not for her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*We had Easter with all the kids. We did a hunt with clues for the baskets and they had a blast!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Kennis' blood sugars have been running low (like 40-50) for over a month. Tim keeps saying he is going to call the dr. but hasn't. He also keeps promising she will get the pump at her next visit but has not made her an appt yet. They specifically told us that appts needed to be scheduled months in advance. There is something seriously wrong with that man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that should do it! If I remember something, I will come back and add it. &lt;img src="http://i45.photobucket.com/albums/f67/comfortjunkie/signature.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3078812346236571262-7825705146213466221?l=ckbruce.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ckbruce.blogspot.com/feeds/7825705146213466221/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3078812346236571262&amp;postID=7825705146213466221&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3078812346236571262/posts/default/7825705146213466221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3078812346236571262/posts/default/7825705146213466221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ckbruce.blogspot.com/2009/04/writers-block.html' title='Writer&apos;s Block'/><author><name>Christian Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10400614534690575254</uri><email>ckbruce@rocketmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17665716646528108641'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3078812346236571262.post-1877324894323346532</id><published>2009-03-04T21:57:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-04T22:27:03.462-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday Lovebug!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/Sa9UgwywSfI/AAAAAAAAARs/owaaqQj-ZuM/s1600-h/looking+like+a+ballerina.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/Sa9UgwywSfI/AAAAAAAAARs/owaaqQj-ZuM/s400/looking+like+a+ballerina.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309555407523432946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I am a few days late with this post, but I have been sick. My darling husband turned 36 on Saturday, Feb 28th. I love this man more than I can even explain. We definitely have our ups and downs but I know that every day when I wake up, he will be there for me. He loves me and takes care of me and I couldn't ask for more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Birthday Babe. I truly hope you enjoyed your birthday. I wish I was able to give you everything you desire, maybe someday. But thank you for sticking it out with me through thick and thin. Hopefully 2009 will be better for you babe. I truly hope that you get everything you want and deserve this year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i45.photobucket.com/albums/f67/comfortjunkie/signature.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3078812346236571262-1877324894323346532?l=ckbruce.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ckbruce.blogspot.com/feeds/1877324894323346532/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3078812346236571262&amp;postID=1877324894323346532&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3078812346236571262/posts/default/1877324894323346532'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3078812346236571262/posts/default/1877324894323346532'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ckbruce.blogspot.com/2009/03/happy-birthday-lovebug.html' title='Happy Birthday Lovebug!!'/><author><name>Christian Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10400614534690575254</uri><email>ckbruce@rocketmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17665716646528108641'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/Sa9UgwywSfI/AAAAAAAAARs/owaaqQj-ZuM/s72-c/looking+like+a+ballerina.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3078812346236571262.post-7020842659212969005</id><published>2009-02-16T11:32:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-16T12:00:02.660-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Just like having a baby</title><content type='html'>Now I know not everyone agrees but mostly the people who don't agree have never had a dog. Take it from me; dogs are just like having babies!! Sometime I even feel like they are harder than having an actual human baby. A few examples would be 1.) A baby gets to wear a diaper. You don't have to take a human baby outside in the freezing cold (rain, snow, ice etc...) to let it go potty at all hours of the night (ie: 2:00 AM) 2.) Doctors are not allowed to deny your human baby medical treatment if you don't have the means of paying for it. It doesn't matter if it is a life or death situation or not. If you don't have the funds, all of the funds, they won't treat your dog. It doesn't matter that your dog IS your baby. 3.) With a human baby you don't have to buy expensive prescriptions for them to take PREVENTATIVELY.  Which I am happy to do, by the way. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So take last night for example...Actually it was this morning at 1:00am. I had JUST fallen asleep after a very painful session of tossing and turning when Cooper jumped up and ran over to the steps that lead off the bed. Now Cooper isn't one who I have to take out in the middle of the night. He likes to sleep and doesn't get up for anything until at least 10 AM. However, I just thought he was being restless so I laid him down and told him to go "night night." He got up again and tried to get down. I was NOT catching on at this point. I told him again to "lay down and go night night." He got up again and this time I let him get down. I was thinking at this point that maybe he had to throw up. So I watched him run to the back door which meant he needed to go OUTSIDE NOW!! So I threw on my robe and let him out. There are 6 stairs leading to the backyard. He made it to the 3rd and just let it rip. Apparently he couldn't wait any longer and had an explosive bowel movement all over the steps. Great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I am extremely thankful that he at least made it outside...what do I do with diarrhea all over my back steps at 1 AM when it is like 20 degrees out? He goes on down to the grass when he is finally able to stop himself and continues his business in the grass. I go get a big  bowl of steaming hot water to wash the stairs with. Bowl number one did nothing. Bowl number 2 sent some flying shit droplets on to our downstairs window. And bowl number 3 sent some of it flying down below. So on to the baby wipes. I got down and literally wiped up what I could see (and smell). Then, being the conscientious mom that I am, realized that the water would freeze and in less than 6 hours they would be walking down those steps again and I didn't want them breaking a leg or a neck. So I haul out the pet safe ice melt and treat the steps. Frozen watered down diarrhea. Lovely. I decide I will have to wait until daylight to do anything else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get Cooper inside, wipe his butt with baby wipes (yes, this is entirely necessary) and realize Cooper had stepped in it. So into the bath he goes. At 1:20 AM. Finally by 1:35 we are back in bed. Need I mention that we just paid $25 to have our comforter dry cleaned and I had literally put it back on our bed on Saturday??? One day. He is clean so it isn't like he is dragging it all over the bed....Right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At 6:30 AM when the hubs takes the boys out to potty, I sit up and say "there is diarrhea on the back steps. I have to wait until daylight to clean them off. So it would be best if you took the boys through the garage so they don't step in it and track it in the house." What does he do? Skips the garage and takes them down the back stairs where the mess has not been entirely cleaned up. Yeah, great. Maybe he just wasn't thinking clearly because it was so early.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there is my story. My dogs are my babies and I love them more than anything and am willing to put up with all of this because of the happiness they bring into my life. But if one more "human mommy" tries to tell me that having a dog is nothing like having a baby, I am going to invite her to spend the night at my house for a night. And just for all those people (like anyone is reading :)) who are like "you don't know because you haven't had a human baby" well, I was 16 when my brother was born and my mom broke her leg so most everything was on me at that point. Then I was 18 when my sister was born and I took on alot of the tasks with her as well. Even at the age of 10 when my other sister was born, I was the care taker because my mom was a single mom. I was basically my mom's live in babysitter for many, many years. And my stepdaughter was a year old when I showed up in her life. So my point is...I have definitely been around babies, live in babies and I know how hard they are. MY babies are just as hard. LOL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i45.photobucket.com/albums/f67/comfortjunkie/signature.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3078812346236571262-7020842659212969005?l=ckbruce.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ckbruce.blogspot.com/feeds/7020842659212969005/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3078812346236571262&amp;postID=7020842659212969005&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3078812346236571262/posts/default/7020842659212969005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3078812346236571262/posts/default/7020842659212969005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ckbruce.blogspot.com/2009/02/just-like-having-baby.html' title='Just like having a baby'/><author><name>Christian Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10400614534690575254</uri><email>ckbruce@rocketmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17665716646528108641'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3078812346236571262.post-2920210028855919563</id><published>2009-02-14T22:12:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-14T22:39:56.622-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='neglect'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='juvenile diabetes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='insulin'/><title type='text'>Desperate Situation</title><content type='html'>I didn't disappear. Things have been crazy and I really haven't felt like I could put into words how I am feeling. This will be brief only because the more I think about it, the more upset I get.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dec 27th 2008 my 10 year old sister (turned 10 in Nov) was diagnosed with type I juvenile diabetes. She is now insulin dependent. There is so much happening with this story and it is such a volatile situation right now that I am not going to go into too many details at this time. Let's just say though that her dad is trying to control every aspect of her illness against all dr's orders and against their advice. He is actually putting her in danger. First it was limiting her food intake. A common misconception about diabetes is that you have a restricted diet. Type 2 is includes diet restriction but not type I. Type I you aren't taken off of anything other than liquid sugar which includes pop, juice, koolaid etc...She can have whatever she wants, she just has to take insulin for whatever she eats. In fact, they specifically want her to eat the way she always has. Well her dad doesn't agree (like he thinks he is an MD or something). He is limiting her food. A lot. And letting her brother eat to his heart's content in front of her. Then he decided he would also limit her insulin. Yes folks, the stuff keeping her alive at this point. He decides she shouldn't be taking more than 40 units a day (This is very hard to explain so I won't. But she takes 23 units of insulin at night without food. That leaves her 17 units of insulin for an entire day's worth of food. That is crazy!) This is his way of controlling the situation. I stepped in and told the nurses what he was doing and they told him to his face that he is playing with fire and that limiting her insulin "disturbs them." He said "go ahead and be disturbed." Honest to god. I don't know what to do. Research is telling me that there really isn't much I can do. He can't really get in too trouble until something actually happens to her because of it. This is causing so much, SO MUCH stress in our family. We just don't know what to do. He won't listen. Not to us and not to the doctors. Who does this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I have to let you know that my sister is doing amazingly well with all of this!! I am so very proud of her. She is sticking herself throughout the day every time she eats, before she eats, before sports, before sleep etc...And she is giving herself injections with everything she eats and at bedtime. She is ten folks. My step daughter is ten and I truly believe that if this happened to her, she wouldn't give herself an injection if her life depended on it. She won't even take liquid medicine without crying. But my sister wants to do all this on her own. Thank goodness for that because she is listening to the doctors and doing as much as she can for herself. Like her dose at night before bed is 23 units of Lantis (insulin) and her dad says "go ahead and just take 20" because he doesn't want her to take more. She takes the amount she is supposed to though because she understands how important it is. But she is also so hurt and confused over how her dad is acting. She has sat in all these day long meetings with the doctors, nurses and dieticians and heard them say "eat as you always have." And then her dad won't let her and yet lets our brother eat whatever, whenever right in front of her. It is unneccessary which also makes it cruel and she feels it. He has even decided to only let her eat sweets on weekends. And even that is limited. I just want to run away with her and get through this with her and without him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She is being fitted for an insulin pump so that she will have better control over her blood sugars. However, her dad can't seem to find the time to get the paperwork filled out. I am so worried that he is going to let her run out of medicine. They can't afford it and the hospital is giving them free meds but in return he is supposed to fill out all this paperwork and bring in his last year's tax return. He is not complying. They told him that they won't give her more meds until he does this. Maybe he wants her to run out since he doesn't want her to take too much. How can a father do this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They also have been evicted from their house and now live in an apartment with no furniture. They lost everything. Our mom lives out of state and wants to have her and our brother come live with her but their dad refuses. In fact if he feels like that is something that may happen, he will run and we will never see them again. I am sure of it. Their phones have been turned off and we haven't been able to get in touch with them. For all I know, they may have been kicked out of their apartment too. I don't know what to do. I feel so helpless in this situation. If I do something stupid, he will never let me see them again. So I have to go about this the right way. Excruciating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Any suggestions? Keep in mind that my brother and sister have actually chosen to live with their dad and my sister currently wants to remain with him through 6th grade and then go live with  my mom. Even through all of this. They love their dad so much. Even though he lets them down at every turn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please keep them in your thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;img src="http://i45.photobucket.com/albums/f67/comfortjunkie/signature.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3078812346236571262-2920210028855919563?l=ckbruce.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ckbruce.blogspot.com/feeds/2920210028855919563/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3078812346236571262&amp;postID=2920210028855919563&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3078812346236571262/posts/default/2920210028855919563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3078812346236571262/posts/default/2920210028855919563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ckbruce.blogspot.com/2009/02/desperate-situation.html' title='Desperate Situation'/><author><name>Christian Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10400614534690575254</uri><email>ckbruce@rocketmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17665716646528108641'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3078812346236571262.post-399815078581208988</id><published>2009-01-05T23:05:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-05T23:08:17.370-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Not so happy new year</title><content type='html'>Life just doesn't seem right these days. But I don't really feel like elaborating at this point. Let's just say that I find it really, REALLY hard to believe in God/god when my family always seems to be hurting. It just isn't right for one small family to go through so very much turmoil.&lt;img style="width: 165px; height: 26px;" src="http://i45.photobucket.com/albums/f67/comfortjunkie/signature.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3078812346236571262-399815078581208988?l=ckbruce.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ckbruce.blogspot.com/feeds/399815078581208988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3078812346236571262&amp;postID=399815078581208988&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3078812346236571262/posts/default/399815078581208988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3078812346236571262/posts/default/399815078581208988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ckbruce.blogspot.com/2009/01/not-so-happy-new-year.html' title='Not so happy new year'/><author><name>Christian Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10400614534690575254</uri><email>ckbruce@rocketmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17665716646528108641'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3078812346236571262.post-2928949940286348287</id><published>2008-12-17T20:46:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-17T21:25:41.305-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday to my little Cooper Pooper!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SUnBy5Hrf4I/AAAAAAAAARA/n0sS6C_3YN0/s1600-h/SF+Coop+looking+at+Daddy.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SUnBy5Hrf4I/AAAAAAAAARA/n0sS6C_3YN0/s400/SF+Coop+looking+at+Daddy.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280965118139268994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SUnBywW1llI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/1ZCyVTDfP5A/s1600-h/poor+little+legs.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SUnBywW1llI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/1ZCyVTDfP5A/s400/poor+little+legs.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280965115786925650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SUnByVcTDkI/AAAAAAAAAQw/CNZgTp6_MTE/s1600-h/coop%27s+got+some+chest+hair+%28dad%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SUnByVcTDkI/AAAAAAAAAQw/CNZgTp6_MTE/s400/coop%27s+got+some+chest+hair+%28dad%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280965108562071106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SUnByCUIpxI/AAAAAAAAAQo/7-px4OvcrI0/s1600-h/he+has+barely+moved+since+his+haircut.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SUnByCUIpxI/AAAAAAAAAQo/7-px4OvcrI0/s400/he+has+barely+moved+since+his+haircut.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280965103427561234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SUnBxhQbjNI/AAAAAAAAAQg/M9UGFxaJfVI/s1600-h/what+a+cutie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SUnBxhQbjNI/AAAAAAAAAQg/M9UGFxaJfVI/s400/what+a+cutie.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280965094553652434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My little boy Cooper turns three years old tomorrow, the 18th. Technically that means he is turning 21 in dog years. What a big boy. He has gone through so much in his short 3 years, what a trooper he is. Hey, I should start calling him "Cooper Pooper the Trooper." LOL. He really is a trooper though. His vet, Dr. Daly, calls him "stoic." How true it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He has disabled front legs which started out in the shape of a 'v' and now his leg is in the shape of an 's.' It gets worse and worse and yet he continues to run around just like a puppy. He has kidney disease, not as bad as Cody, but he throws up more than normal dogs because of it. He has had an ulcer on his eyeball which had to be removed while he was awake. He has chronic skin infections under his eyes, one of which he is suffering from right now.  He has hair which mats profusely and has to be brushed and de-matted at every turn. He has some kind of red, hairless spot on his hip right now which is bothering him. And did I mention he has hip dysplasia? And he is only 3. He definitely has had a rough go of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cooper is my little buddy. He is the cutest, most wonderful dog. He loves to cuddle, loves to lick and is perfectly happy curled up in bed with me all day. He loves to play but isn't that great at learning tricks. He is a little on the dopey side, but we love him to death! He doesn't make much noise, but loves to keep guard at the front door. Every squirrel or bunny that hops by gets a nice, warm, welcoming bark from Coop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy birthday to my sweet little man. Our lives wouldn't be the same without you buddy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i45.photobucket.com/albums/f67/comfortjunkie/signature.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3078812346236571262-2928949940286348287?l=ckbruce.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ckbruce.blogspot.com/feeds/2928949940286348287/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3078812346236571262&amp;postID=2928949940286348287&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3078812346236571262/posts/default/2928949940286348287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3078812346236571262/posts/default/2928949940286348287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ckbruce.blogspot.com/2008/12/happy-birthday-to-my-little-cooper.html' title='Happy Birthday to my little Cooper Pooper!!!'/><author><name>Christian Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10400614534690575254</uri><email>ckbruce@rocketmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17665716646528108641'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SUnBy5Hrf4I/AAAAAAAAARA/n0sS6C_3YN0/s72-c/SF+Coop+looking+at+Daddy.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3078812346236571262.post-7638250792114926359</id><published>2008-11-24T23:15:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-24T23:33:17.448-06:00</updated><title type='text'>So much to be thankful for.</title><content type='html'>As Thanksgiving draws near, I try to remind myself of the things that I have to be thankful for. Too often I think of the bad and not the good, so hopefully putting it in writing will give me a reminder to look back on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am thankful first and foremost for my husband. He is a wonderful, caring guy who puts up with alot from me. He takes care of me and loves me and really what more could a girl want?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am thankful for my boys. I am thankful that their little bodies are going strong even through all the obstacles. I am thankful that for some reason Cody's body has adjusted to his high kidney levels and therefore we will have him around for much longer than expected. I am thankful that Cooper's legs don't seem to be causing him a great amount of pain even if it may look like it. I am thankful that every night when I get home, I have two jumping boys waiting to greet me at the door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am thankful for my stepdaughter Kaylee. I am thankful that she has grown into an intelligent, kind young girl. I am thankful that she adores her dad and looks forward to the time she spends with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am thankful for my family and their health. I am thankful that my mom has a good job, a new outlook on life and a bright future. I am thankful that my sister has her two feet planted solidly on the ground and  has the entire world at her disposal. I am thankful that my sister and brother seem to be ok with love in place of material goods. I am thankful that my aunt who was diagnosed with terminal cancer, is now 60% in remission. I am thankful that she has my awesome uncle to take care of her. I am thankful that my grandma is healthy, able and willing to work a hard labor job at 65 years old to take care of she and her husband. I am thankful that my great grandmother has made it through 2 strokes, Lymes disease, breast cancer and a triple bypass and is now healthy enough to golf and still make championship flight at 85 years old. I am thankful that my husband's family is healthy and staying out of trouble. We are very blessed to have family who loves and adore us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am thankful that I have a job. Not just a job but a job that pays well and where they are sympathetic to my situation health wise. I am thankful that my husband has a great job. How lucky are we to have jobs during times like these?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am thankful that my husband is healthy, intelligent and handsome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am thankful that we have a roof over our heads and food in our cabinets. I am thankful that we have health insurance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We may not be able to take vacations or go shopping for the newest things, but all in all, we are very lucky to have all that we do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope that you all have as much to be thankful for as I do. Happy Thanksgiving. &lt;img src="http://i45.photobucket.com/albums/f67/comfortjunkie/signature.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3078812346236571262-7638250792114926359?l=ckbruce.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ckbruce.blogspot.com/feeds/7638250792114926359/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3078812346236571262&amp;postID=7638250792114926359&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3078812346236571262/posts/default/7638250792114926359'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3078812346236571262/posts/default/7638250792114926359'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ckbruce.blogspot.com/2008/11/so-much-to-be-thankful-for.html' title='So much to be thankful for.'/><author><name>Christian Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10400614534690575254</uri><email>ckbruce@rocketmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17665716646528108641'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3078812346236571262.post-5648461813013424774</id><published>2008-11-07T21:37:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-07T21:49:20.844-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='country'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='getaway'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dogs'/><title type='text'>Not fun enough</title><content type='html'>Lately, my husband wants to do new things. He has come to a point where he is bored and tired of sitting around all the time. We do alot of sitting around due to my health. 2 very good childhood friends of his moved to the country and all of the sudden he wants to go visit. Fine by me, I love the country. But come to find out, they don't have extra room. There are the 2 friends, a wife, a son and 4 dogs. He wants me, him and our two dogs to go. We would basically be sleeping on a couch. I can do that, I really can. But it will be really difficult to have our boys (our dogs) in a room with no confinement, especially at night. They might roam. Not to mention, my husband wants to go out with his buddies and that will leave me and the boys back at the house with wife and kid (whom I have never met) and no room to hole away in by ourselves. I am not anti social, but that doesn't sound like a whole lot of fun to me. Going to the country, hanging out, spending some time with my husband, that sounds fun. If only there was a spare bedroom. I would feel more comfortable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not to mention one of the friends always gives me a hard time about what I feed my boys. Yes, I know it isn't normal. Yes, I know it isn't the healthiest. Get off my back about it! The vet knows. So anyway...that always causes tension.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here is the dilemna. We have been talking about doing more stuff together. More fun stuff. Less sitting around and watching movies. So do I suck it up and make the best of it and try to go and have fun? Or do I stay at home and tell him to go have fun with his buddies? I really don't know which to choose. I want to do something fun with him, make memories. But it doesn't seem like it will really be a time for him and I, more like a time for him and his buddies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He already made it clear that he would rather me stay behind if I don't think I can have fun. And we don't go places often at all anymore. We used to, but since money has been so tight the past 2 years, we really don't get the chance to get away. So what do I do? I won't really be able to leave the boys at the house with the other dogs, they'll freak out. But it will cost $40-$50 to board them. Ugh...why is everything so hard for me? &lt;img style="width: 165px; height: 26px;" src="http://i45.photobucket.com/albums/f67/comfortjunkie/signature.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3078812346236571262-5648461813013424774?l=ckbruce.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ckbruce.blogspot.com/feeds/5648461813013424774/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3078812346236571262&amp;postID=5648461813013424774&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3078812346236571262/posts/default/5648461813013424774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3078812346236571262/posts/default/5648461813013424774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ckbruce.blogspot.com/2008/11/not-fun-enough.html' title='Not fun enough'/><author><name>Christian Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10400614534690575254</uri><email>ckbruce@rocketmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17665716646528108641'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3078812346236571262.post-13251730273382777</id><published>2008-10-14T17:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-14T17:46:09.305-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Awesome photos of Cody and Cooper taken by Frank</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SPUg4iXKDCI/AAAAAAAAAQA/nsMgfGaJvgE/s1600-h/such+a+good+picture+of+the+boys.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SPUg4iXKDCI/AAAAAAAAAQA/nsMgfGaJvgE/s400/such+a+good+picture+of+the+boys.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257144295693618210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SPUg4ixWnJI/AAAAAAAAAQI/oW6SciB7Png/s1600-h/awesome+pic+of+coop.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SPUg4ixWnJI/AAAAAAAAAQI/oW6SciB7Png/s400/awesome+pic+of+coop.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257144295803493522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SPUg43KT1JI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/jMQZV4WB3Cs/s1600-h/cody+running+to+dad.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SPUg43KT1JI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/jMQZV4WB3Cs/s400/cody+running+to+dad.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257144301276877970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SPUg5P2DRbI/AAAAAAAAAQY/IxrnDGkzsV4/s1600-h/my+fave+pic+of+Cody.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SPUg5P2DRbI/AAAAAAAAAQY/IxrnDGkzsV4/s400/my+fave+pic+of+Cody.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257144307902793138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i45.photobucket.com/albums/f67/comfortjunkie/signature.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3078812346236571262-13251730273382777?l=ckbruce.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ckbruce.blogspot.com/feeds/13251730273382777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3078812346236571262&amp;postID=13251730273382777&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3078812346236571262/posts/default/13251730273382777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3078812346236571262/posts/default/13251730273382777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ckbruce.blogspot.com/2008/10/awesome-photos-of-cody-and-cooper-taken.html' title='Awesome photos of Cody and Cooper taken by Frank'/><author><name>Christian Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10400614534690575254</uri><email>ckbruce@rocketmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17665716646528108641'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SPUg4iXKDCI/AAAAAAAAAQA/nsMgfGaJvgE/s72-c/such+a+good+picture+of+the+boys.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3078812346236571262.post-7822086661654306214</id><published>2008-10-14T17:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-14T17:40:24.258-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Walk for lupus</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;LUPUS WALK 2008&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SPUbnVLAxqI/AAAAAAAAAPA/AuQrphobbUE/s1600-h/all+of+us+at+lupus+walk+08.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SPUbnVLAxqI/AAAAAAAAAPA/AuQrphobbUE/s320/all+of+us+at+lupus+walk+08.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257138502537103010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SPUd8VHTEOI/AAAAAAAAAPY/pLRLTBo_z0M/s1600-h/lupus+walk+the+family+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SPUd8VHTEOI/AAAAAAAAAPY/pLRLTBo_z0M/s320/lupus+walk+the+family+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257141062322032866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SPUd8qr9HEI/AAAAAAAAAPg/BnWV6whmkX4/s1600-h/lupus+walk+5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SPUd8qr9HEI/AAAAAAAAAPg/BnWV6whmkX4/s320/lupus+walk+5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257141068112927810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SPUd8pBwI4I/AAAAAAAAAPo/XcaZV3xTDRA/s1600-h/lupus+walk+the+guys.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SPUd8pBwI4I/AAAAAAAAAPo/XcaZV3xTDRA/s320/lupus+walk+the+guys.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257141067667481474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SPUd81UDBgI/AAAAAAAAAPw/H8ziejSqRGo/s1600-h/lupus+walk+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SPUd81UDBgI/AAAAAAAAAPw/H8ziejSqRGo/s320/lupus+walk+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257141070965442050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SPUd9ETsxaI/AAAAAAAAAP4/N_FKDcSDpUM/s1600-h/Lupus+Walk+092708.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SPUd9ETsxaI/AAAAAAAAAP4/N_FKDcSDpUM/s320/Lupus+Walk+092708.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257141074990515618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SPUbns7F6OI/AAAAAAAAAPI/LNzie_OOxz4/s1600-h/me+and+frank+at+lupus+walk+08.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SPUbns7F6OI/AAAAAAAAAPI/LNzie_OOxz4/s320/me+and+frank+at+lupus+walk+08.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257138508912781538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SPUbnnTUYaI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/d3Ble46RyAg/s1600-h/see+my+green+feet+dad.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SPUbnnTUYaI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/d3Ble46RyAg/s320/see+my+green+feet+dad.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257138507403780514" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="width: 165px; height: 26px;" src="http://i45.photobucket.com/albums/f67/comfortjunkie/signature.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3078812346236571262-7822086661654306214?l=ckbruce.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ckbruce.blogspot.com/feeds/7822086661654306214/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3078812346236571262&amp;postID=7822086661654306214&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3078812346236571262/posts/default/7822086661654306214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3078812346236571262/posts/default/7822086661654306214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ckbruce.blogspot.com/2008/10/walk-for-lupus.html' title='Walk for lupus'/><author><name>Christian Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10400614534690575254</uri><email>ckbruce@rocketmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17665716646528108641'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SPUbnVLAxqI/AAAAAAAAAPA/AuQrphobbUE/s72-c/all+of+us+at+lupus+walk+08.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3078812346236571262.post-4356042822765167751</id><published>2008-09-25T18:10:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-25T18:19:26.442-05:00</updated><title type='text'>L-L-L-L-L-Lick me like a lollipop...</title><content type='html'>Here is something you may not know about me. I love rap! Yes, I am a suburban housewife who likes to bump in my car with my sound system that my husband had installed for me as a gift.  I am one of those cars who pulls up next to you and causes your car to shake and your  windows to vibrate. The thing I need though is tinted windows. That way no one can see that I am just a white, suburban housewife who likes alot of bass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now if you were to see me in the club, you'd really get a laugh. I'm a booty shaker.  But I love to shake it! I just can't help it. The music/rap I like is just asking for a good ass shakin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just something random I thought I would share about myself. Now off to bump in my car all the way to Taco Bell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i45.photobucket.com/albums/f67/comfortjunkie/signature.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3078812346236571262-4356042822765167751?l=ckbruce.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ckbruce.blogspot.com/feeds/4356042822765167751/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3078812346236571262&amp;postID=4356042822765167751&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3078812346236571262/posts/default/4356042822765167751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3078812346236571262/posts/default/4356042822765167751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ckbruce.blogspot.com/2008/09/l-l-l-l-l-lick-me-like-lollipop.html' title='L-L-L-L-L-Lick me like a lollipop...'/><author><name>Christian Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10400614534690575254</uri><email>ckbruce@rocketmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17665716646528108641'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3078812346236571262.post-1938547677477458590</id><published>2008-09-23T11:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-23T11:44:40.478-05:00</updated><title type='text'>And the World's Worst Stepmother Award Goes to...</title><content type='html'>Drumroll please...You guessed it! Me! But the thing is, I totally agree. Let me explain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I expect my stepdaughter (Kaylee) to talk to me respectfully, drop the attitude, not use the word "whatever," brush her teeth, brush her hair, clean out her fingernails, pick up her room, maybe do a chore once in a blue moon, wash her hands, be respectful to her dad, not whine, be nice to the boys (dogs), be patient, not interrupt and not climb all over the furniture. Do you see how absolutely horrible I am?  I guess I watched Cinderella one too many times as a kid. It seems the evil stepmother rubbed off on me. (oh and just because I said I expect this of her, does not mean I get it).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her remaining time is spent playing with the Wii, watching Disney Channel, playing online with her Webkinz or just lounging in bed watching the newest movie to come out on dvd. What a horrible life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just don't understand why I can't let all this go and just let her run around wild with yellow teeth, dirty encrusted fingernails, tangled hair (which she finally had cut so it has cut down on the problem a tad) etc...If I did, we would never argue. Oh wait, we wouldn't argue until I asked her to do a small chore like wipe down the bathroom sink. The sink only she uses to brush her teeth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The best part is her dad doesn't see any of this. Or maybe he does and just thinks it's no big deal. I don't know. She half hazardly wipes down the sink, shows him, who is the worst at details when it comes to cleaning, he signs off on it and she goes back to her room. A few minutes later I tell her to come wipe a few spots she missed and she's all "Dad said it was fine!" And then in a huge whine "Daaaad saaiiiiddd it was fiiiinnnneeeee."  Insert set of evil eyes here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously. She is sweet until you ask her to do something and then the claws come out. She gets all huffy and puffy and ends up getting a huge attitude most of the time. So it just makes me the evil stepmother for asking her to do something. So my dilemna is...do I continue to ask her to do things or just let it go to avoid the fight? I know what the right thing to do is. But what about making my husband happy? He hates the fighting. I tell him about her attitude because I can't punish her...but then he hates it and says I am such a tattle tale. I wouldn't have to tattle if I could send her to her room for copping an attitude. It's a catch 22. Remain the evil stepmother and in the process the evil wife, or let it all go and hope she learns these things somewhere else before she reaches adult hood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Overall, she is a great kid. I love her dearly. It's just she is getting to the pre teen age and I need to know how to proceed. I am assuming all this that has gone undealt with will only get worse with age. So what do I do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Just in case you missed the sarcasm, I don't really think I am the worst step mom in the world, I could use a bit of work but it is a thankless, frustrating job and it's not like there is a manual. &lt;img src="http://i45.photobucket.com/albums/f67/comfortjunkie/signature.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3078812346236571262-1938547677477458590?l=ckbruce.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ckbruce.blogspot.com/feeds/1938547677477458590/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3078812346236571262&amp;postID=1938547677477458590&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3078812346236571262/posts/default/1938547677477458590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3078812346236571262/posts/default/1938547677477458590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ckbruce.blogspot.com/2008/09/and-worlds-worst-stepmother-award-goes.html' title='And the World&apos;s Worst Stepmother Award Goes to...'/><author><name>Christian Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10400614534690575254</uri><email>ckbruce@rocketmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17665716646528108641'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3078812346236571262.post-7677655895741841809</id><published>2008-09-20T17:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-20T17:32:59.364-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rude'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='jerk'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='manners'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='asshole'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bastard'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='prick'/><title type='text'>How would you feel?</title><content type='html'>If you were at a store grocery shopping and you were having a very difficult time getting something off a shelf, not just having trouble reaching it, but it was stuck to it's mates and they were heavy and starting to fall around you (laundry baskets)...If this were happening to you and you looked over and a man looked you straight in the eye, stood there with free hands and didn't offer to help or even lend a helping hand, would you feel like shit? It is obvious he saw you struggling, you made eye contact twice, he just stood there. Rude to say the least, right? If you were in the situation but in the guys' shoes, wouldn't you lend a hand? Wouldn't manners and instinct kick in?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This happened to me and I can't tell you just how horrible it made me feel. It made me feel like dirt. Like I was invisible. It ruined my entire day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you believe that the way a man treats a woman in front of his children sets them up to either treat women the same way or allow themselves to be treated the same way? So if this man had a child with him, wouldn't he have been even more wrong? He showed his child that #1 it is ok to treat others like this and #2 it is ok if someone treats them like that. The whole situation had me first seeing red and secondly wanting to cry my eyes out. What is with people? Does he treat the people he loves the same way? If so, I feel horrible for his family.&lt;img src="http://i45.photobucket.com/albums/f67/comfortjunkie/signature.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3078812346236571262-7677655895741841809?l=ckbruce.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ckbruce.blogspot.com/feeds/7677655895741841809/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3078812346236571262&amp;postID=7677655895741841809&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3078812346236571262/posts/default/7677655895741841809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3078812346236571262/posts/default/7677655895741841809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ckbruce.blogspot.com/2008/09/how-would-you-feel.html' title='How would you feel?'/><author><name>Christian Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10400614534690575254</uri><email>ckbruce@rocketmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17665716646528108641'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3078812346236571262.post-2236706917573190176</id><published>2008-09-15T11:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-15T12:19:06.497-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Forlorn Black Dog</title><content type='html'>You may have wondered who the black dog in the pictures is. Well, her name is Autumn and she is our neighbors' dog. Frank and I have really grown fond of Autumn after watching her day in and day out, out in the backyard, alone. No one to pay to attention to her, no one to talk to her, play with her, love her. She is a true 24 hours/day outdoor dog. She has a dog house and I have seen 2 abandoned toys but that's it. So Frank and I started to talk to her and pet her every time we went in the backyard (at least 5-6 times a day). After all, who could ignore the wagging tail and smiling face at the fence?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About two weeks after we had moved in (I had talked to her only a handful of times and the same goes for Frank) Autumn made a break for it and broke out of her backyard. Where did she come? Our front door. LOL. Really. I was in bed sick and I heard a ruckus outside. I went outside in the front to figure out what the boys were reacting to and saw Autumn in our front yard and Frank on the porch. I went out and saw her family calling to her from their yard but watched as she gleefully ignored them and ran to Frank and I when we called her name. That was just the first time this has happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frank has taken her back from our front door on more than one occasion and every time they just plop her back in the backyard and leave her alone. So...I have been pretty upset about this and I think that a backyard dog is no life at all. Frank and I had even decided that on cold/snowy/rainy nights we would offer our garage to her if her owners would allow it. We even talked about putting a doggy door in the door for her. That changed yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday Autumn ended up at our front door again. Frank took her back but no one was home this time. She can't come in the house, she is literally like a bull in a china closet due to her lack of socialization. But we couldn't just leave her to roam the streets so Frank put her in our backyard. I thought that was a great idea and proceeded to take her some water and a chewie to keep her back there. And that is where the story begins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You'd have to see a picture, which I don't have right now, but to completely understand you will have to see it. We have access to our backyard through our garage. But it isn't just a straight walkout, there are stairs that lead up to the backyard. OK so I shut the door behind me and proceed to take her the water and chewie. She is ALL over me and as I try to maneuver my way back inside the garage (the boys are on the other side) she uses all her weight to push into the garage. So then she is racing around the garage like a mad woman, no big deal. Cooper makes a run for the backyard and I call for Autumn to follow, she does and so does Cody. She barrells over Cody a bit on the stairs and when he stops at the top stair, she is all over him. It didn't really look playful, more intrusive if anything. Now Cody and Autumn bark at each other back and forth along the fence. The run up and down the fence barking at each other. I used to stop it but they seemed to have so much fun doing it and it gave them some extra exercise so I just allowed it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Autumn starts following Cody closely and I can see he is getting stressed because she keeps putting her face in his face. So I start to push her away and tell her to "go on." The way the stairs are set up, there is a cement wall about a foot tall between the grass and the stairs. I am still on the stairs and Cody is next to me but the cement wall is between us. That's when Autumn really went for it. She started to put her mouth on his neck, wouldn't back up, was using all of her body force against me and my arms, which I was trying to put in between them, she had him pinned up against the wall, he was crouching and she had her mouth on his neck. Cody cried out in pain. I was screaming at Autumn to "get off!" and pushing her with one arm while trying to pick Cody up with the other. She would not back off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't really remember what happened but Cody must have slipped away while I was trying to hold Autumn back. He ended up at the bottom of the stairs where the closed door was. The bottom of the stairs is like 3'x2 1/2' so it isn't very big. All of the sudden Cody was down at my feet and Autumn was on top of him and I was still screaming and trying to pull her off. She was trampling him and going after him with her mouth. All of the sudden the door opened and I am screaming to Frank "get Autumn! she is attacking Cody!" He grabbed her by the collar and was able to lead her up and out of the yard.  She was happy to see him so she went with him. He was able to get their back gate open and he put her back in her own yard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now honest to God, I don't know if she was playing or not. I have read about reading a dog's body language and I do not believe she was playing. However, it is all a blur because I was freaking out so much. I remember hearing a growl at one point and I don't believe it was Cody. The only sound Cody made was a cry, a cry I have never heard him make before. Obviously she hasn't been socialized so she may have just jumped Cody because she doesn't like him. I just don't know. All I know is it scared the crap out of me! I literally thought I was going to watch Cody get eaten in front of me and I wasn't going to be able to do anything about it. It was so scary and I shook for hours afterwards. Of course Frank doesn't think she was trying to hurt him (he wasn't out there either) and he thinks I am being dramatic about it. I can't explain how badly it hurt my feelings that she would do this to my baby. After all the kindness we showed her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this morning I take the boys out to potty and Cody starts barking at the gate towards the front yard. I was in my bathrobe and thinking "great, the guy is here to read the meter and I am going to have to go in the wet grass to retrieve my barking dogs, in my black socks and pink bathrobe. Oh and not to mention the bedhead." I walk up the steps and who is it? Autumn. And she is looking like she is going to jump the fence. The first thing I think is "if she makes it in here, we're done because Frank isn't here to help." So quickly I tell the boys to "stay" and I run inside the house, through the garage. I grab a leash, walk out the front door and call her name. There she comes, barrelling down on top of me. She is so excited (aka bored, not exercised, not stimulated etc...) that she jumps all over me. I get the leash on her and then realize, what the hell am I doing? I mean, nothing has changed. I am still in my black socks, pink robe and bedhead. Great. So I try to un latch her so I can go get dressed to take her home. Not happening. Just like she used her body weight to push her way into the garage, she was doing the same with my front door. So there we were, stranded on my front porch. But wait! I had my cell phone in my pocket. Only because I had just gotten off the phone with Frank. For the next 5 minutes I fight her jumping body to see the phone number on the tag. Got it! They pick up after 5 rings. I say "hi, this is your neighbor and Autumn is at my front door. I'm sorry, I am in my bathrobe so I didn't want to bring her over." She apologized and sent her daughter out to get her. Her daughter walked out and Autumn ran to her. I called across the yard that Autumn had gotten out yesterday too while they were away but we had put her in their backyard. She said she was sorry and walked away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I walked back to the backyard and this time the boys were oblivious to the chaos. They were both taking a dump LOL. And then there was Autumn, back to her usual spot at the fence. Back to her days and nights of seclusion. I don't feel so sorry for her after what she did to Cody but I am sure that her lack of training and socialization is to blame. It's too bad but now we know we can't offer to walk her with us or offer our garage to her. Not if we want to keep our own boys safe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will still talk to her but the bond has been broken. She hurt my feelings when she went after my baby. I will still help rescue her when she gets out but she better not try to jump in my backyard again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So my dilemna at this point is do I tell her owners what she did? In case something were to happen in the future?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and Cody is ok. He was shaken up, had a red mark on his neck but no injuries. He has been having diarrhea and he threw up this morning (nothing too unusual for him though) but I think it is from the stress of it all. I don't know for sure that she didn't jump on his stomach but he acts ok. And unfortunately I don't have the money to go get an x ray done. But like I said, I really don't think it is necessary. I think he is fine. He got a bath so I could see his skin better and he smells great and looks wonderful! And now we know Cooper won't be stepping in to save his brother in time of trouble. At least not when a 65 lb black lab is involved LOL. &lt;img src="http://i45.photobucket.com/albums/f67/comfortjunkie/signature.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3078812346236571262-2236706917573190176?l=ckbruce.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ckbruce.blogspot.com/feeds/2236706917573190176/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3078812346236571262&amp;postID=2236706917573190176&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3078812346236571262/posts/default/2236706917573190176'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3078812346236571262/posts/default/2236706917573190176'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ckbruce.blogspot.com/2008/09/forlorn-black-dog.html' title='The Forlorn Black Dog'/><author><name>Christian Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10400614534690575254</uri><email>ckbruce@rocketmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17665716646528108641'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3078812346236571262.post-4256939452210602915</id><published>2008-09-08T23:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T23:39:46.746-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pictures'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dogs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shih tzu'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lab'/><title type='text'>Purely Pictures as Promised</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SMX9PoIC6XI/AAAAAAAAAL8/NysS4U-PY1A/s1600-h/dont+ya+wanna+just+kiss+me+cody.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SMX9PoIC6XI/AAAAAAAAAL8/NysS4U-PY1A/s320/dont+ya+wanna+just+kiss+me+cody.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243875786053839218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Cody looking sweet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SMX9QN0j9nI/AAAAAAAAAME/7sWOZfbvPZE/s1600-h/sweet+sweet+coop.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SMX9QN0j9nI/AAAAAAAAAME/7sWOZfbvPZE/s320/sweet+sweet+coop.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243875796172666482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Cooper looking comfy and oh so kissable&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SMX9Qt0a-KI/AAAAAAAAAMM/adnqXmv0HpE/s1600-h/autumn+plays+fetch.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SMX9Qt0a-KI/AAAAAAAAAMM/adnqXmv0HpE/s320/autumn+plays+fetch.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243875804762011810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The neighbor dog, Autumn, playing fetch&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SMX9RPXRoQI/AAAAAAAAAMU/rKafOlung-E/s1600-h/my+BEAUTIFUL+cooper+pooper.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SMX9RPXRoQI/AAAAAAAAAMU/rKafOlung-E/s320/my+BEAUTIFUL+cooper+pooper.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243875813766570242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Isn't my Cooper just adorable?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SMX9RYWTkuI/AAAAAAAAAMc/yAQMCliCwpg/s1600-h/my+snuggly+wuggly+cody+bear.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SMX9RYWTkuI/AAAAAAAAAMc/yAQMCliCwpg/s320/my+snuggly+wuggly+cody+bear.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243875816178422498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My precious Cody&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SMX39sw5cyI/AAAAAAAAALU/oyjQm6a-do8/s1600-h/checking+out+the+new+yard.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SMX39sw5cyI/AAAAAAAAALU/oyjQm6a-do8/s320/checking+out+the+new+yard.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243869980503143202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The boys checking out their new yard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SMX3-GRirgI/AAAAAAAAALc/ZeILINFWNZI/s1600-h/taylor+plays+ball+with+cody+and+cooper.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SMX3-GRirgI/AAAAAAAAALc/ZeILINFWNZI/s320/taylor+plays+ball+with+cody+and+cooper.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243869987350949378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Taylor playing ball with Cody and Cooper&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SMX3-XRVsLI/AAAAAAAAALk/0kKFixF-L74/s1600-h/all+of+us+paying+some+attention+to+autumn.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SMX3-XRVsLI/AAAAAAAAALk/0kKFixF-L74/s320/all+of+us+paying+some+attention+to+autumn.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243869991913500850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Playing with our neighbor dog Autumn&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SMX3-v2A_KI/AAAAAAAAALs/SoRHJOyolss/s1600-h/our+new+neighbor+autumn.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SMX3-v2A_KI/AAAAAAAAALs/SoRHJOyolss/s320/our+new+neighbor+autumn.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243869998509784226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Poor Autumn. She is alone and outside 24/7.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SMX3-28KV5I/AAAAAAAAAL0/9mQnd0BxKzU/s1600-h/best+buds.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SMX3-28KV5I/AAAAAAAAAL0/9mQnd0BxKzU/s320/best+buds.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243870000414611346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My baby boys looking cute as usual&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://i45.photobucket.com/albums/f67/comfortjunkie/signature.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3078812346236571262-4256939452210602915?l=ckbruce.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ckbruce.blogspot.com/feeds/4256939452210602915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3078812346236571262&amp;postID=4256939452210602915&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3078812346236571262/posts/default/4256939452210602915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3078812346236571262/posts/default/4256939452210602915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ckbruce.blogspot.com/2008/09/purely-pictures-as-promised.html' title='Purely Pictures as Promised'/><author><name>Christian Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10400614534690575254</uri><email>ckbruce@rocketmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17665716646528108641'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SMX9PoIC6XI/AAAAAAAAAL8/NysS4U-PY1A/s72-c/dont+ya+wanna+just+kiss+me+cody.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3078812346236571262.post-6626803799400918547</id><published>2008-08-26T21:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-26T22:20:37.903-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='EGD'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='doctor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='colonoscopy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='incompetant'/><title type='text'>Incompetant Doctors</title><content type='html'>I have seen hundreds of doctors with my multitude of health problems so it's  par for the territory that I run into a few quacks in the bunch. I had 2 surgical procedures done today because  I have been so horribly sick for almost a month now. I had an EGD and a colonoscopy done and 2 biopsies taken at the same time. I have had these procedures done before so I knew what to expect.  Why is it that doctors and nurses don't believe you when you tell them you know how you will react  to something? Because I don't have an MD after my name, I must be oblivious to anything having to do with medicine. The first thing I said to the nurse when she took me back is "I will need something ASAP to help me relax. I panic and I can feel myself starting to panic already.  She said she would find out for me shortly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30 minutes later I am doing ok because the nurse and I have been discussing my lupus. She is my age and has lupus as well! What are the odds of that? Anyway...our time is up and it is time for me to wait to be taken to the surgery room. She gives me some Benadryl. It hits me a little but I can feel the panic start to rise. It is such a strange feeling, hard to explain and many think you are crazy or just a big baby. I started to sweat, shake, even though I was freezing cold from the lack of clothes and covers. I started to panic. I couldn't sit up because I was hooked to machines which sounded an alarm every time I sat up.  They told me  they were behind and it would be a while. Great thing to tell someone who is panicking I tell you. Anyway...I start to cry, I feel like ripping the iv out of my arm. FINALLY a nurse peeks her head in and notices I am crying. She asks if I am ok and I told her that no I'm not, I am panicking. I can't explain why it happens but when I am hooked up to machines, I feel out of control and tied down and it freaks the hell out of me. She got on the phone with the dr. who ordered me some Vercet  to calm me down. Apparently I calmed down after that because I really don't remember much afterwards. One thing I DO remember is telling the surgeon that he needs to give me some extra deadening stuff for my throat because I have been known to try to pull out the endoscope because of my gag reflex. I told him twice. Please, make sure my throat is deadened. So what happens?  First of all, I shouldn't be able to remember any of this because I was sedated but I remember it all and I am not happy. It ended up being a fight. I tried pulling the tube out, they had to hold me down, they were yelling at me, I was gagging, throwing up, I felt like I couldn't breathe, like I was suffocating. Whatever they were putting into my mouth wasn't just a little tube, there was something large around my lips and I could feel it enveloping my whole mouth. I was scared shitless and crying and they just kept yelling at me and holding me down.  I remember it all. My throat is very bruised. It hurts so badly to swallow. Nothing like it should feel like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to quack doctors. I am not saying he is a quack per se, but he pissed me off because he obviously didn't believe anything I said. Then he told my husband, while I was in recovery, that everything looked normal. However, when you look on all my discharge paperwork, it clearly states that they found 4 different things. And to top it off, all my discharge paperwork is addressed to Mr. Bruce. Do I look like a dude to you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway...I wish doctors would realize that there are some of us who have had so much experience with all this medical crap and we really know our own bodies better than they do. Next time, they need to listen. But actually there won't be a next time. I am sick of panicking and feeling this way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know this isn't really a coherent or interesting post, I just had to write it down. I am going to post a purely picture post next so you can see my beautiful boys. &lt;img src="http://i45.photobucket.com/albums/f67/comfortjunkie/signature.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3078812346236571262-6626803799400918547?l=ckbruce.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ckbruce.blogspot.com/feeds/6626803799400918547/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3078812346236571262&amp;postID=6626803799400918547&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3078812346236571262/posts/default/6626803799400918547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3078812346236571262/posts/default/6626803799400918547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ckbruce.blogspot.com/2008/08/incompetant-doctors.html' title='Incompetant Doctors'/><author><name>Christian Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10400614534690575254</uri><email>ckbruce@rocketmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17665716646528108641'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3078812346236571262.post-8183893565407968465</id><published>2008-08-17T13:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-17T14:27:10.104-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ex'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wedding'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='jealous'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sick'/><title type='text'>I'm ready to talk. But not about the house.</title><content type='html'>I don't really feel like talking about the hell hole, I mean house, just yet. But so much has happened and I have been needing to scream and this is my only outlet right now so I'm going to talk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently, I have the craziest family in the world. Not crazy as in fun, crazy as in insane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK. I have been sick since July 31st. Today is August 17th so as you can see, I have been ill for quite some time. And not just ill, super ill. I have been vomiting for weeks. The nausea is the worst I have had in my entire lifetime! Smells make me vomit, reading my computer makes me vomit (why this is going to be a short rant), walking makes me vomit, sleeping makes me vomit, eating makes me vomit and not eating makes me vomit. Anyway, needless to say, I have made it to work 5 hours so far for the month of August. I have been just that sick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have lived in our new hell hole since the 29th of July. During that time our basement has flooded 3 times, we have mold in our dining room, a hole in our dining room ceiling (waiting on contractor), mildewed carpet, a faulty HVAC, fleas or some other type of bug which is eating away at me and many, many other small things happening all at the same time. And then of course, I'm sick. So nothing has been accomplished. The boxes are still packed. We  don't even want to unpack because we hate this place. The hell hole is just in an utterly chaotic state. Whatever. I mean it's understandable, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well. Today I hear daughter and dad talking and I pipe in to ask what they are talking about. Daughter says "mom might pick me up today." I naturally ask "why?" because she picks her up from our place maybe once a year and always for a specific reason. Daughter says "she wants  to see the house." I say " the outside or the inside?" She says "all of it!" I say "well we're not even unpacked or anything so that will have to happen some other time." She says "she doesn't need to see it unpacked, she just wants to see it." I rebuttle with "well, another time." She says "she was going to come yesterday." OK...I'm like "um, she has to be invited." Now husband pipes in with "I already told her she could." WTF ever! So I say "Frank we aren't even unpacked or anything!" He says "so, what's the big deal?" I finally just say "whatever, I'll be hiding in the laundry room." I can't say what I want to say with daughter sitting right there. So husband says "fine, you just do what you do." Yep, I'm the bitch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK. So how crazy is it that my husband's ex wife gets to come look through our house (which she invited herself to do) when we A.) just moved in B.) haven't unpacked and C.) I've been sick?  Who does she think she is? And why am I the bad guy because I would like my husband not to show his ex wife OUR house when it hasn't been unpacked, cleaned or decorated? Not to mention...I am still unshowered and in bed from being sick? Is that asking too much?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't want her coming at all to look at this freakin place but if she is going to come, at least give me some damn courtesy to be able to decorate or something first. But apparently I am a bitch for even thinking this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always knew that the freakin ex would be a part of my life forever because of daughter but sometimes I just can't handle it. What does this hell hole have to do with her? And why the rush to see it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and mother in law and her husband were here this weekend as well. What does mother in law do when we arrive to pick up daughter? Gets out and freaking hugs the ex wife and oohs and aahs over her. Right in front of me. Whatever. No one ever wonders how all of that makes me feel. No one cares and apparently I am the baby for not thinking it's cool. I'm sick of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Husband just thinks I'm a jealous bitch and seriously I am freaking sick of it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to brother in law's wedding on the 8th. I barely made it being as sick as I was but the dr. gave me some med that worked for 2 days and allowed me to use my non refundable, non transferable ticket. I was so close to not going, but in the end I didn't want husband to have to go to a wedding, where he was the best man, by himself. Thank God I went.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a jealous wife, I don't deny that, but seriously I think I would be less jealous if I didn't have a husband who tells me about every "hot girl" he sees and even though it's all jokingly, it does not make me any less jealous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bride's sister (who was totally skinny and cute and husband's type) was the maid of honor. In other words, she was the person husband was supposed to spend all his time with. I understand ushering her in, doing the whole wedding thing etc...but he was expected to be her date at the reception even though she had a boyfriend there and he had me, his wife there. He was told to get her drinks for the night, they even made them dance together. To a f-cking slow song. It was a wedding party dance where they all danced together. If you're going to do that, don't you think it would be nice to at least do some upbeat, fast song so their spouses/significant others don't have to sit there and watch their partners slow dance with someone else?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This may not be a big deal to anyone else (though another girl at my table, who was watching her boyfriend slow dance with a bridesmaid shared my same sentiment) but husband and I rarely dance. In fact...I dance, he doesn't. I can get him to dance ONLY at clubs and only after a few drinks. We haven't danced in years but he goes and dances with her. What also pisses me off is that if he doesn't want to do something, he won't do it. He will let whoever know that he isn't going to do it and won't take shit from anyone about it. So if this made him uncomfortable, he wouldn't have done it. Whatever...so I even got past that and after an hour of him being mad at me for being hurt having to watch him dance with this girl and walk around the room getting her drinks, without even making eye contact with ME or getting me drinks too, I danced with him and had a good time. I tried to just let it go. It doesn't take the sting away. I don't dance with anyone else and I don't like him to either. Apparently, the bride's family was completely the opposite. They bumped and grinded with everyone and their uncles the whole night. Even the bride! I didn't even care at that point. If one other girl walked up to my husband and tried to grind on him "because he was the best man" I was going to throw down and I didn't even give a shit who I embarrassed. Luckily, husband stayed away from the dance floor the entire hour he was mad at me, so I didn't have to throw down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyone else a jealous bitch? I always tell hubs that if I ever stop being jealous, he has a problem. He said he would rather it be that way. He hates my jealousy but he does nothing to try to make me feel more secure in our relationship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How guilty do I feel for being sick for 3 weeks, missing so much work, not helping with the move, not being "available" and not looking "pretty?" Pretty damn guilty! Doesn't help the jealousy any knowing that most guys would be ready to leave in a heartbeat if they had to deal with me and my illness. My insecurities are flying wild! I need some reassurance here. Am I going to get any?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way...I haven't vomited in a 24 hours and now, since I took the time to type this out, I am ready to vomit again. I just can't handle staring at the computer screen right now. What am I going to do? I have to work. I have to be a "wife" and keep my husband happy. I always have to worry about that. I just can't help but worry that I am too much of a burden.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry that my post was all over the place. Bottom line is I am a sick, jealous bitch and apparently I have no reason to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i45.photobucket.com/albums/f67/comfortjunkie/signature.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3078812346236571262-8183893565407968465?l=ckbruce.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ckbruce.blogspot.com/feeds/8183893565407968465/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3078812346236571262&amp;postID=8183893565407968465&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3078812346236571262/posts/default/8183893565407968465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3078812346236571262/posts/default/8183893565407968465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ckbruce.blogspot.com/2008/08/im-ready-to-talk-but-not-about-house.html' title='I&apos;m ready to talk. But not about the house.'/><author><name>Christian Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10400614534690575254</uri><email>ckbruce@rocketmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17665716646528108641'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3078812346236571262.post-1216109131278687268</id><published>2008-08-06T11:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-06T11:11:35.224-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='move from hell'/><title type='text'>Flood, Fleas, Puke, Mold, Broken, HOT,Clog, Leak</title><content type='html'>Yes my lovelies, these are just a few words that are used to describe the horrendous adventures of moving. Moving the Bruce family must entail all of the above, apparently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still not ready to talk about it. Sorry :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i45.photobucket.com/albums/f67/comfortjunkie/signature.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3078812346236571262-1216109131278687268?l=ckbruce.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ckbruce.blogspot.com/feeds/1216109131278687268/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3078812346236571262&amp;postID=1216109131278687268&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3078812346236571262/posts/default/1216109131278687268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3078812346236571262/posts/default/1216109131278687268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ckbruce.blogspot.com/2008/08/flood-fleas-puke-mold-broken-hotclog.html' title='Flood, Fleas, Puke, Mold, Broken, HOT,Clog, Leak'/><author><name>Christian Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10400614534690575254</uri><email>ckbruce@rocketmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17665716646528108641'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3078812346236571262.post-4895866134515328077</id><published>2008-07-29T20:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-29T20:32:20.774-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I don't want to get into it.</title><content type='html'>We're moved. If you can call it that. It is going to be quite a while before I feel up to writing about this whole experience. Put it this way, we've been in tears daily. Every single thing that could go wrong...has gone wrong. Things are still going wrong. We were under the impression that once we signed, everything would get better from there. What the hell ever! We are beyond stressed and overwhelmed and are ready to leave everything behind, claim bankruptcy and  move to Mexico.  That is just how badly this whole thing has gone. The End for now.&lt;img src="http://i45.photobucket.com/albums/f67/comfortjunkie/signature.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3078812346236571262-4895866134515328077?l=ckbruce.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ckbruce.blogspot.com/feeds/4895866134515328077/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3078812346236571262&amp;postID=4895866134515328077&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3078812346236571262/posts/default/4895866134515328077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3078812346236571262/posts/default/4895866134515328077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ckbruce.blogspot.com/2008/07/i-dont-want-to-get-into-it.html' title='I don&apos;t want to get into it.'/><author><name>Christian Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10400614534690575254</uri><email>ckbruce@rocketmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17665716646528108641'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3078812346236571262.post-153353390832979073</id><published>2008-07-22T01:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-22T01:48:30.366-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Quick update.</title><content type='html'>It's 1:38AM and I can't sleep. I am seriously stressed. We didn't close on the 18th as planned. As of right this minute we don't even know if the house is actually going to be ours'. There have been so many curve balls pitched at us by this "lender" and I am beginning to think he is screwing with us. We made it over 3 MAJOR hurdles only to be told TODAY that we must sign automatic withdrawal forms for our mortgage payments to come out the 25th of each month. September's payment comes out August 25th and so on. One problem. I only get paid on the last day of the month. There isn't money in the bank to cover the payment on the 25th. PLUS he told us we wouldn't have a payment at all for August so we had planned on using that money to help with closing costs. He says they can't change the date but he'll ask the president of the company if he will make an exception. SOOO if he won't, we've taken the day off tomorrow to look at apartments. Lovely. So freaking screwed!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What kind of place doesn't give you an option on what date you have a large payment automatically deducted from your acct???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bad news on my aunt as well. We just found out that she is in end stage kidney failure. Due to her cancer I don't believe she is eligible for a transplant :( I am so devastated! She had her first chemo treatment today. Something she didn't want to do, she doesn't want her body torn apart by chemo. The dr's told her she wouldn't make it without it because her kidneys are just giving up. I don't know what's next. Dialysis? That will be torture for her. 7 hours a day, 5 days a week. I just want to go through it all for her and spare her the pain. Her God, the one she has followed her whole life, the one she worships and trusts and loves and prays to, needs to step in and do something for her. She is a true follower of Christ and this is what she gets in return? Another reason I can't bring myself to believe that there truly is a loving God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Off to try to get some rest. I can't turn my mind off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i45.photobucket.com/albums/f67/comfortjunkie/signature.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3078812346236571262-153353390832979073?l=ckbruce.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ckbruce.blogspot.com/feeds/153353390832979073/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3078812346236571262&amp;postID=153353390832979073&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3078812346236571262/posts/default/153353390832979073'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3078812346236571262/posts/default/153353390832979073'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ckbruce.blogspot.com/2008/07/quick-update.html' title='Quick update.'/><author><name>Christian Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10400614534690575254</uri><email>ckbruce@rocketmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17665716646528108641'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3078812346236571262.post-7307865606115082034</id><published>2008-07-15T16:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T21:13:03.579-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shower'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='house'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bathroom'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kitchen'/><title type='text'>A few house pics</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SH0ScQc9uTI/AAAAAAAAAKM/ovEuhifkI0k/s1600-h/the+kitchen+again.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SH0ScQc9uTI/AAAAAAAAAKM/ovEuhifkI0k/s400/the+kitchen+again.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223351419481733426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The Amazing Kitchen! All stainless steel appliances, granite countertops and a 3 seater bar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SH0Sc0AHSUI/AAAAAAAAAKU/B3JsGslDtEk/s1600-h/master+stone+shower.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SH0Sc0AHSUI/AAAAAAAAAKU/B3JsGslDtEk/s400/master+stone+shower.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223351429024401730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Kind of hard to tell from the picture but this is the master shower. All stone and really nice!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SH0SdYkeYNI/AAAAAAAAAKc/xUPkXKFebcA/s1600-h/the+dining+room+through+french+doors.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SH0SdYkeYNI/AAAAAAAAAKc/xUPkXKFebcA/s400/the+dining+room+through+french+doors.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223351438840586450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My favorite part of the house. The dining room which you enter through french doors right off the kitchen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just wanted to share a few pics of the new house. We're 3 days away from closing and now they have a new "bump in the road" so keep your fingers crossed that it all works out because we have no money and no place to go if it doesn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i45.photobucket.com/albums/f67/comfortjunkie/signature.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3078812346236571262-7307865606115082034?l=ckbruce.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ckbruce.blogspot.com/feeds/7307865606115082034/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3078812346236571262&amp;postID=7307865606115082034&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3078812346236571262/posts/default/7307865606115082034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3078812346236571262/posts/default/7307865606115082034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ckbruce.blogspot.com/2008/07/few-house-pics.html' title='A few house pics'/><author><name>Christian Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10400614534690575254</uri><email>ckbruce@rocketmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17665716646528108641'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YUrLUL4m510/SH0ScQc9uTI/AAAAAAAAAKM/ovEuhifkI0k/s72-c/the+kitchen+again.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3078812346236571262.post-4320661293159284589</id><published>2008-07-12T16:07:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-12T16:36:09.084-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='anniversary'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gamble'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='casino'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='buffet'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dessert'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food'/><title type='text'>Time is running out.</title><content type='html'>We close on the house on Friday. Our lease here at the apartment is up on July 29th which means we HAVE to be moved out and the apartment has to be cleaned from top to bottom by the 29th at noon. So how have I been spending my days, you ask? Sleeping. I have never been so unmotivated in my life. I feel terribly embarrassed! It isn't because I am just being lazy, it is because I don't feel well. I promise. I even missed out on the final walk through on the house today. I was in too much pain to get up and get ready to go. I hope that wasn't a mistake. Hubs did go and said everything was fixed to our liking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have personally packed 4 boxes. 2 boxes of scrapbooking materials and 2 boxes from my closet.  I guess you could say I am not doing my part. BUT I have been working. I did miss 2 days of work this week but 1 was for our anniversary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of our anniversary, it was July 9th. We have been married for 4 years and together for 9 years. Amazing, considering I am only 27. Hubs took the day off to spend the day with me. I had been suffering from a horrible migraine for 5 days beforehand so I was a little weary. We decided to go to the Casino and have lunch at their buffet. We are NOT gamblers and had never even been before. Neither one of us like throwing away our money and having nothing to show for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we had a wonderful buffet lunch which included this heavenly dessert buffet bigger than our new kitchen! Everything imaginable was there and I wasn't going to leave without tasting absolutely everything I wanted to! :) To Hubs horrid embarrassment, I proceeded to bring back about 8 plates of dessert (some had multiple desserts on them), one bowl of ice cream topped with m&amp;amp;m minis, caramel sauce and homemade whipped cream AND a rootbeer float. I only ate 2-3 bites of each thing, I am not a pig after all :) It was heaven I tell you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh don't worry, I ate regular food too. I had 3 pieces of bbq salmon (SOOOOO yummy!), a'gratin potatoes, butter and chive mashed potatoes, buttered brussel sprouts, fried okra, buttered broccoli, cornbread with honey, one yeast roll, one parmesan roll, 1/2 a piece of 4 cheese pizza, some nachos with queso, guac, sour cream, bean and corn salsa, lettuce and tomatoes on top, a bowl of cantaloupe, some crab salad, some fried potatoes and I think that might be it. Wow, it seemed like I ate alot more than that :) I love buffets, can you tell?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What? You want me to tell you about the desserts too? OK...there was a chocolate cream pie, strawberry shortcake with the best damned homemade whipped cream I have ever had in my entire life!!! Then I had 3 chocolate strawberries (which I only ended up eating 1 of), 2 pieces of meringue candy, a pretzel stick in chocolate, a piece of chocolate espresso cake, some strawberry swirl cake (they didn't actually label the desserts), a cup of chocolate mousse, some tiny handmade chocolate with a cherry on top, a layered brownie and cheesecake of some sorts, a raspberry cheesecake and I do believe that was it. And at one point, I asked Hubs to go up there with me so he could help me carry it back. Even as embarrassed as he was, he did it for me :) Good ol' Hubs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At one point I was getting one of my first plates of food and one of the buffet chefs behind the counter saw my face full of smiles and said "How are you doing today happy girl?" That was kind of embarrassing. I guess I couldn't hide my overwhelming excitement due to the food heaven surrounding me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After at least an hour at the buffet I tried to get Hubs to sit there with me for another hour so we could get hungry again but he insisted that I was the only one who would get hungry again for quite some time. So we left and went into the casino, with visions of big money dancing in our heads.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had decided to only spend $20. We're broke, buying a house and need all the money we have but we figured we would try on our lucky day. We played penny slots, nickel slots, quarter slots and 1 dollar slot. Between us we won about $6 but we gambled it away and walked out of there $20 poorer than when we had arrived.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now let me ask you something. How in the world is gambling fun? Even when we won, we won no more than $2.50 and the money was sucked from our hands faster than I can eat a cookie (and let me tell you, that is pretty damn fast!). How is that fun? And we were there at noon on a Wednesday and there were a ton of people there too. We just don't see the appeal. Thankfully, because I couldn't handle it if Hubs decided he had a thing for gambling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway...I held onto Hubs arm all day, we talked and smiled and laughed like we were dating and had a really really good day! Granted we made it home by 3:00 but he did one of my favorite things and lay in bed for the rest of the day and we watched 6 Feet Under and another movie I can't quite remember. Overall, it was a great day! Best of all? The next day Hubs emailed me to tell me how much fun he had AND to tell me that he kept smiling when he thought about me and my desserts :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think the buffet employees might remember me for a while :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i45.photobucket.com/albums/f67/comfortjunkie/signature.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3078812346236571262-4320661293159284589?l=ckbruce.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ckbruce.blogspot.com/feeds/4320661293159284589/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3078812346236571262&amp;postID=4320661293159284589&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3078812346236571262/posts/default/4320661293159284589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3078812346236571262/posts/default/4320661293159284589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ckbruce.blogspot.com/2008/07/time-is-running-out.html' title='Time is running out.'/><author><name>Christian Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10400614534690575254</uri><email>ckbruce@rocketmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17665716646528108641'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry></feed>