<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7890950380919345507</id><updated>2012-02-16T06:43:53.100-05:00</updated><title type='text'>On Being Freed</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Angi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05691210867008688853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gvRzE9H2pMk/TgEicnQ84II/AAAAAAAAAKk/lkq_5WFztz4/s220/me.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>41</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7890950380919345507.post-1930582601621880700</id><published>2011-06-22T10:43:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-22T10:46:31.843-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Check Out Tumbler</title><content type='html'>Do you need another thing to be addicted to?? Come check out Tumbler. It's pretty fun and I like that I can save things there that have meaning to me. It's like a bulletin board - when you have a picture or quote or video clip that is important, you put it there.  Best way to see what I mean is to check it out. Go here ----&amp;gt;  &lt;a href="http://beingfreed.tumblr.com/"&gt;On Being Freed Tumbler&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7890950380919345507-1930582601621880700?l=beingfreed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/feeds/1930582601621880700/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7890950380919345507&amp;postID=1930582601621880700' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/1930582601621880700'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/1930582601621880700'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/2011/06/check-out-tumbler_22.html' title='Check Out Tumbler'/><author><name>Angi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05691210867008688853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gvRzE9H2pMk/TgEicnQ84II/AAAAAAAAAKk/lkq_5WFztz4/s220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7890950380919345507.post-6169121046797276152</id><published>2010-06-05T19:47:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-05T19:53:05.667-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Grant and Kaleigh</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/TArihIZA31I/AAAAAAAAAKE/S2sMiJmVAbA/s1600/IMG_4869vignette.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/TArihIZA31I/AAAAAAAAAKE/S2sMiJmVAbA/s320/IMG_4869vignette.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479440955465588562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/TArigdvJ8rI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/OXJHIgWch8E/s1600/IMG_4872Done.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/TArigdvJ8rI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/OXJHIgWch8E/s320/IMG_4872Done.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479440944015733426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wanted to share a couple of pics I took today of Grant and his girlfriend Kaleigh.  I took them today at Kaleigh's open house. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first one shows Grant's new teeth pretty well. Cost us $5000 and I'm glad he's smiling and showing them off! LOL Thankfully, Blake has told us he wants nothing to do with braces so we will actually have one child who doesn't cost us thousands of dollars in orthodontia! Whew!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7890950380919345507-6169121046797276152?l=beingfreed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/feeds/6169121046797276152/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7890950380919345507&amp;postID=6169121046797276152' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/6169121046797276152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/6169121046797276152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/2010/06/grant-and-kaleigh.html' title='Grant and Kaleigh'/><author><name>Angi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05691210867008688853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gvRzE9H2pMk/TgEicnQ84II/AAAAAAAAAKk/lkq_5WFztz4/s220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/TArihIZA31I/AAAAAAAAAKE/S2sMiJmVAbA/s72-c/IMG_4869vignette.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7890950380919345507.post-4242892025762080057</id><published>2010-06-05T00:03:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-05T00:07:53.638-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Cloning</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/TAnNApCHyeI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/Y7lf4u1wF5U/s1600/Blake+and+Me.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 296px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/TAnNApCHyeI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/Y7lf4u1wF5U/s320/Blake+and+Me.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479135832571365858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honestly, I really never thought my kids looked a whole lot like me. For some reason people will stop me and Ashley and say how much she looks like me but I DO NOT see it.  Not at all.  But the other night I ran across a picture of myself and seriously thought I was looking at my youngest son Blake. For the first time ever, I see a major resemblance to myself in one of my kids. You be the judge.  The picture on the left is me when I was 12 or 13 years old.  The one on the right is Blake right now at 15. Weird stuff!&lt;br /&gt;**If you click on the picture you can see it bigger to get a better look.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7890950380919345507-4242892025762080057?l=beingfreed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/feeds/4242892025762080057/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7890950380919345507&amp;postID=4242892025762080057' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/4242892025762080057'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/4242892025762080057'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/2010/06/cloning.html' title='Cloning'/><author><name>Angi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05691210867008688853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gvRzE9H2pMk/TgEicnQ84II/AAAAAAAAAKk/lkq_5WFztz4/s220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/TAnNApCHyeI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/Y7lf4u1wF5U/s72-c/Blake+and+Me.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7890950380919345507.post-6690585665110210728</id><published>2009-12-13T19:29:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-13T20:10:38.823-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas Time</title><content type='html'>Won't even try to catch up since it's been the entire fall I've passed by.   But here we are at Christmas time again and I feel as though it was just here. Is it just me or is time whizzing by????  Crazy thing, time...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So tonight it's just Brent and I and our youngest Blake home. We've been playing games, making goodies like puppy chow and chocolate covered stawberries, and reading by the fire and the Christmas tree. Lovely winter/Christmas time things to do.  I honestly do not mind winter except the driving in it part.  Gives me a good excuse to do indoor things that I enjoy but feel guilty doing when it's gorgeous outside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I was doing childhood memories the other day with my cousin Carrie and it made me think about writing down as many as I could remember, you know, before Alzheimer's sets in. Here are some of my favorite childhood Christmas memories....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Waking up and tip toeing out to a living room chuck full of goodies! Especially the year I got the Barbie pool and "Santa" had actually taken the time to fill the pool and put the Barbies all around it like I caught them in the middle of a great pool party.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Winning the Santa that our classroom built that was four feet high and really fat out of plaster of paris and newspaper. It was the first thing I ever won and I was soooo excited. There is a picture I know I have somewhere with my brother Lyle and I sitting with it. Silly...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Grandpa Forcia showing up for our annual Christmas Eve Christmas party and very seriously telling us he had just run over Rudolf. I remember all of us cousins totally believing him and freaking out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SyWO7Sfd04I/AAAAAAAAAJk/8_HClaPNsAM/s1600-h/cousins.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SyWO7Sfd04I/AAAAAAAAAJk/8_HClaPNsAM/s320/cousins.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414891276210131842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The year my cousin Nikki and I swore we saw Santa climbing in through a window down the street from her house in Dewitt. I later figured out it was an American flag flapping around but man did I believe! I still drive by that house today and think of that memory...really...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dancing with my grandma to Christmas songs in her dinning room...her hair was blazing red and piled up in a behive she did even after it went out of fashion...and she wore an apron every time I saw her like the ladies of old...other times of the year she danced polka's with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first Christmas I was to have to spend alone, sophmore year of college...thought I could handle it and then about 10 pm that night I called my mom and told her I was heading up to where she was at my Grandma's...a two hour drive!  This actually brings tears to my eyes becuase I totally remember how I felt that night...nobody should be alone on Christmas...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first Christmas I spent married to my best friend. He bought me a VCR...I know there had to have been more but I really remember that VCR beucase it was 1989 and it was very cool to own one, LOL.  We felt very grown up....a couple of weeks later we found out we were already pregnant with Grant that night.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SyWMeViQ-kI/AAAAAAAAAJc/bwSWPqLPzHA/s1600-h/DSCF2592.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SyWMeViQ-kI/AAAAAAAAAJc/bwSWPqLPzHA/s320/DSCF2592.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414888579787717186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our first Christmas with our own child, Grant...he didn't even get it being only a couple of months old but we thought it was pretty cool. I remember we got him a wind up music box toy thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the very very very best memories are the ones that we made for our children.  Never have I had so much fun in all my life than I had doing Christmas for my children.  Brent sneaking out the bathroom window to jingle bells outside the house, Santa throwing up the cookies on the Santa plate, Santa leaving footprints on the fireplace, reading the Christmas story from the Bible to the children and then reading A Night Before Christmas while they were all cuddled in their matching footy pajama's, Christmas Eve services, Christmas Eve driving by houses with the best lights, early Christmas presents the kids would start begging for around December 10th (and Brent teasing them by letting them open toothbrushes), the looks on their faces on Christmas morning when they would come down the stairs in the morning (at 5 am!), our special Christmas breakfast pizza from Fabiano's we'd get the night before....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SyWQaQ0zcGI/AAAAAAAAAJs/_h95hBRfXow/s1600-h/n686929782_1780556_9017.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SyWQaQ0zcGI/AAAAAAAAAJs/_h95hBRfXow/s320/n686929782_1780556_9017.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414892907850330210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;how quickly it was all over....last year everyone slept till almost 8 and we had to actually roll Grant out of his bed becuase the other two wanted to get started. No one "believes" anymore, obviously....I guess if they still did I would have to be worried, LOL.  All the magic is gone...for now...I guess until we have grandbabies start coming around. For now we have a small drought of Christmas magic...but it's still waiting in my heart for the next chapter in my life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7890950380919345507-6690585665110210728?l=beingfreed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/feeds/6690585665110210728/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7890950380919345507&amp;postID=6690585665110210728' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/6690585665110210728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/6690585665110210728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/2009/12/christmas-time.html' title='Christmas Time'/><author><name>Angi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05691210867008688853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gvRzE9H2pMk/TgEicnQ84II/AAAAAAAAAKk/lkq_5WFztz4/s220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SyWO7Sfd04I/AAAAAAAAAJk/8_HClaPNsAM/s72-c/cousins.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7890950380919345507.post-2289602471828933642</id><published>2009-08-14T14:11:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-14T14:51:50.011-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer So Far - JUNE</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SoWpZMKgudI/AAAAAAAAAIM/V_pvvjJxSDU/s1600-h/DSCF3216.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SoWpZMKgudI/AAAAAAAAAIM/V_pvvjJxSDU/s320/DSCF3216.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369884380936321490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ooppps! Summer hit and I didn't get back around to blogging!  Well, I'll have to do some catching up here. We've been having a great time.  Brent finally agreed to getting us a pool after years of begging....and then it's been the coolest summer on record and the pools hardly been used!  That's the only bummer this summer. But we've still had some fun with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SoWtSjeQa_I/AAAAAAAAAIs/xcNVE3kZroI/s1600-h/IMG_0396.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SoWtSjeQa_I/AAAAAAAAAIs/xcNVE3kZroI/s320/IMG_0396.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369888664980581362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next, Ashley graduated! Yeah!  We had a wonderful graduation weekend this time, compared to Grant's last year with the deadly storms!  Ashley's went off without a hitch, thank God.  Tons of family and friends came to celebrate with us.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SoWtSRLBC1I/AAAAAAAAAIk/g7iTw38seL4/s1600-h/IMG_0375.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SoWtSRLBC1I/AAAAAAAAAIk/g7iTw38seL4/s320/IMG_0375.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369888660068043602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After graduation we went on our first vacation with the Ziglers to Yogi Bear park.  We took Blake and Ashley and Ava and Kyle. It was a very fun park and I highly &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SoWtRCVg4hI/AAAAAAAAAIU/6jvIzCMA9Cc/s1600-h/IMG_0354.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SoWtRCVg4hI/AAAAAAAAAIU/6jvIzCMA9Cc/s320/IMG_0354.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369888638905672210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SoWtRo3DSeI/AAAAAAAAAIc/6eRKtHaccYo/s1600-h/IMG_0365.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SoWtRo3DSeI/AAAAAAAAAIc/6eRKtHaccYo/s320/IMG_0365.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369888649246886370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;recommend it for people with young kids.  You will stay busy from sun up to sun down!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yogi Bear Trip.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SoWxLnP-U2I/AAAAAAAAAI0/hK6ld43Vs7M/s1600-h/DSCF3401.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SoWxLnP-U2I/AAAAAAAAAI0/hK6ld43Vs7M/s320/DSCF3401.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369892943781843810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SoWxNPvSrRI/AAAAAAAAAJU/dmg85r2067A/s1600-h/DSCF3447.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SoWxNPvSrRI/AAAAAAAAAJU/dmg85r2067A/s320/DSCF3447.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369892971830488338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SoWxMn2u21I/AAAAAAAAAJM/csmRT1Dn-vA/s1600-h/DSCF3431.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SoWxMn2u21I/AAAAAAAAAJM/csmRT1Dn-vA/s320/DSCF3431.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369892961124277074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SoWxMagIjOI/AAAAAAAAAJE/CcpVaUdnSr4/s1600-h/DSCF3425.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SoWxMagIjOI/AAAAAAAAAJE/CcpVaUdnSr4/s320/DSCF3425.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369892957539831010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SoWxMG205hI/AAAAAAAAAI8/RVTl-vhpyN4/s1600-h/DSCF3408.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SoWxMG205hI/AAAAAAAAAI8/RVTl-vhpyN4/s320/DSCF3408.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369892952266302994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I'll post July later....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7890950380919345507-2289602471828933642?l=beingfreed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/feeds/2289602471828933642/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7890950380919345507&amp;postID=2289602471828933642' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/2289602471828933642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/2289602471828933642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/2009/08/summer-so-far-june.html' title='Summer So Far - JUNE'/><author><name>Angi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05691210867008688853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gvRzE9H2pMk/TgEicnQ84II/AAAAAAAAAKk/lkq_5WFztz4/s220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SoWpZMKgudI/AAAAAAAAAIM/V_pvvjJxSDU/s72-c/DSCF3216.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7890950380919345507.post-8826340439160637853</id><published>2009-05-31T22:44:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-31T22:48:30.945-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Rare Moment</title><content type='html'>Saturday was a rare moment for me....actually ended up, somehow, with all three of my babies in the van with me to go out shopping for clothes. Sounds silly for me to think this so awesome but I haven't had everyone in the car with me in a while and in the old days, me and my three kiddos were always hanging together, homeschooling, field trips, shopping, out to lunch, etc, while dad was at work. It was an every day thing for years and years....after Grant graduated last year, I think we have all been in the car together ONCE! Then there was yesterday....I'm sentimental...but other than the debates Grant loves to have about politics and religion, it was so fun.  Felt like old times hanging with my kiddos, driving around running errands. Got everyone clothes for this coming weekend for Ashley's graduation and open house.  Feeling very sentimental about that too....can't believe how fast I have two of my babies grown up and out! Way too fast.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7890950380919345507-8826340439160637853?l=beingfreed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/feeds/8826340439160637853/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7890950380919345507&amp;postID=8826340439160637853' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/8826340439160637853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/8826340439160637853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/2009/05/rare-moment.html' title='A Rare Moment'/><author><name>Angi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05691210867008688853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gvRzE9H2pMk/TgEicnQ84II/AAAAAAAAAKk/lkq_5WFztz4/s220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7890950380919345507.post-8166025518329008545</id><published>2009-05-25T09:59:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-25T10:27:22.816-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Write about the Peaceful Times Too</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/Shqqp6Ba-uI/AAAAAAAAAIE/M4CGqlnJ53o/s1600-h/IMG_0002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/Shqqp6Ba-uI/AAAAAAAAAIE/M4CGqlnJ53o/s320/IMG_0002.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339767945127721698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just to be fair, I thought I'd actually pop on when the aliens let my kids come and visit. You know, I shouldn't always write about the horrible parts of raising teens. Sometimes there are good times still, like the old days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grant calls me last night and says to scratch his old plan of not returning to school this fall (which had soooo disappointed us - nothing good ever comes of taking time off from college, not in my opinion anyway). Now he's going to go ahead and keep going. Yeah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know, you can't make these kids do anything. You can tell them to please learn from your 40 years of wisdom. They want to figure things out themselves. And I get that, I do. I remember wanting to make my own way. I mean, I completly left the state at 18 years old and moved myself to Colorado. Loved being on my own in my OWN town. Loved buying my car byself and getting myself a job and paying my own bills. I get it. But it sure would be nice if they did listen a bit. Well, maybe he did since he's going to keep going.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ashley is mellowing with graduation nearing. I remember getting nuts as it came around.  It made me stressed out. Ashley seems to be taking it all in stride.  That makes things a lot easier on mom, for sure!  She layed down in bed with me this past week too...hadn't done that in months...was very nice....short cuddle. So sad those are pretty much gone but I understand they have to be. She's pretty much a grown up after all as is Grant.  Just sad they're gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blake has stepped back in to the public schools and tested beyond his grade after a year back home. Perfect! yeah!  He had dropped considerably after two years at public school (6th and 7th) compared to his first six years of schooling at home.  That's why we pulled him to get him back on track and he is.  Tested post high school in vocabulary and comprehension, 10th grade in language arts, ready for 9th in math even when there was still six weeks of school left.  I feel very good about having pulled him and gotten him back on track. At the end of 7th they were going to hold him back!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, anyway, thought I should post good news too!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7890950380919345507-8166025518329008545?l=beingfreed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/feeds/8166025518329008545/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7890950380919345507&amp;postID=8166025518329008545' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/8166025518329008545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/8166025518329008545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/2009/05/write-about-peaceful-times-too.html' title='Write about the Peaceful Times Too'/><author><name>Angi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05691210867008688853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gvRzE9H2pMk/TgEicnQ84II/AAAAAAAAAKk/lkq_5WFztz4/s220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/Shqqp6Ba-uI/AAAAAAAAAIE/M4CGqlnJ53o/s72-c/IMG_0002.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7890950380919345507.post-298751102237318591</id><published>2009-05-08T23:56:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-09T00:04:48.310-04:00</updated><title type='text'>More Prom Pics</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SgUAp2O0PUI/AAAAAAAAAHg/hmC1v4t7RJc/s1600-h/IMG_9925.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SgUAp2O0PUI/AAAAAAAAAHg/hmC1v4t7RJc/s320/IMG_9925.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333670052622515522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SgUAppIHvvI/AAAAAAAAAHY/E1psDfPEXeU/s1600-h/IMG_9911.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SgUAppIHvvI/AAAAAAAAAHY/E1psDfPEXeU/s320/IMG_9911.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333670049104772850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SgUApfCkNJI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/AtdVBMj1O18/s1600-h/IMG_9904.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SgUApfCkNJI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/AtdVBMj1O18/s320/IMG_9904.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333670046397117586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SgUAo6SI0PI/AAAAAAAAAHI/M1vk9_HEbZs/s1600-h/IMG_9903.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SgUAo6SI0PI/AAAAAAAAAHI/M1vk9_HEbZs/s320/IMG_9903.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333670036530319602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7890950380919345507-298751102237318591?l=beingfreed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/feeds/298751102237318591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7890950380919345507&amp;postID=298751102237318591' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/298751102237318591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/298751102237318591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/2009/05/more-prom-pics.html' title='More Prom Pics'/><author><name>Angi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05691210867008688853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gvRzE9H2pMk/TgEicnQ84II/AAAAAAAAAKk/lkq_5WFztz4/s220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SgUAp2O0PUI/AAAAAAAAAHg/hmC1v4t7RJc/s72-c/IMG_9925.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7890950380919345507.post-1939870815256949228</id><published>2009-05-08T23:15:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T23:55:53.841-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SgT-gWep5JI/AAAAAAAAAHA/CGh9hS6XSlo/s1600-h/IMG_9868.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SgT-gWep5JI/AAAAAAAAAHA/CGh9hS6XSlo/s320/IMG_9868.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333667690456933522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SgT-gJV5BpI/AAAAAAAAAG4/A7wKYCCRBKk/s1600-h/IMG_9866.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SgT-gJV5BpI/AAAAAAAAAG4/A7wKYCCRBKk/s320/IMG_9866.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333667686930515602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SgT-f8BUirI/AAAAAAAAAGw/MvIAV8QVGzk/s1600-h/IMG_9856.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SgT-f8BUirI/AAAAAAAAAGw/MvIAV8QVGzk/s320/IMG_9856.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333667683354577586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SgT-fq8XayI/AAAAAAAAAGo/Khxuw7unvqo/s1600-h/IMG_9852.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SgT-fq8XayI/AAAAAAAAAGo/Khxuw7unvqo/s320/IMG_9852.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333667678770391842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SgT-fQ3FiCI/AAAAAAAAAGg/F3yKnlEpiUU/s1600-h/IMG_9846.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SgT-fQ3FiCI/AAAAAAAAAGg/F3yKnlEpiUU/s320/IMG_9846.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333667671768926242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SgT38H16rMI/AAAAAAAAAFw/nkE_XEt2OCA/s1600-h/IMG_9839.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SgT38H16rMI/AAAAAAAAAFw/nkE_XEt2OCA/s320/IMG_9839.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333660470982913218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;PROM 2009&lt;br /&gt;Grand Ledge High School&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight both Grand and Ashley went to the Grand Ledge prom. Ashley took her boyfriend of four months and Grant took his girlfriend who is still in high school. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We followed them around tonight to meet friends and take pics.  I'm so glad they got to go to one prom together. Loved the photo op of them together. Here are a few pics.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7890950380919345507-1939870815256949228?l=beingfreed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/feeds/1939870815256949228/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7890950380919345507&amp;postID=1939870815256949228' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/1939870815256949228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/1939870815256949228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/2009/05/prom-2009-grand-ledge-high-school-prom.html' title=''/><author><name>Angi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05691210867008688853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gvRzE9H2pMk/TgEicnQ84II/AAAAAAAAAKk/lkq_5WFztz4/s220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SgT-gWep5JI/AAAAAAAAAHA/CGh9hS6XSlo/s72-c/IMG_9868.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7890950380919345507.post-2612537171911901726</id><published>2009-05-02T18:20:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-02T18:22:07.674-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A blast from the past....found an old poem I wrote for my son Grant just before he turned 10. It is published on another site I used to write for way back in 2000. And now he is 18 years old!!! This brought tears to my eyes....&lt;br /&gt;*********************************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h1 style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 120%; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0px;"&gt;Poem for my Firstborn on the ache of his growing up&lt;/h1&gt; &lt;span class="rgr"&gt;Jul 09 '00&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span class="d-r"&gt; I decided that I would like to share with you a special poem that I wrote for my first born child, a son. He is soon to be 10 years old and I just can not figure out where the years went. It was just yesterday that I nursed him at my breast and kissed his baby sweet belly while counting his chubby toes. Now, he is running off to be with his friends, playing big boy sports, and hunting with his dad. He still will cuddle with me on occaision but these times are begining to get farther and farther between. It really breaks my heart. I know I have raised a very happy and confident son and his moving away from me and into the world is the right thing but it still hurts, as I am sure all of you who have gone through this know. Here is the poem that I wrote for him a few months ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Swaying back and forth&lt;br /&gt;Me and my baby&lt;br /&gt;Hugging and holding my firstborn&lt;br /&gt;Under my heart&lt;br /&gt;Remembering&lt;br /&gt;When you were inside&lt;br /&gt;Under my heart&lt;br /&gt;And I was swaying back and forth&lt;br /&gt;Dreaming of you&lt;br /&gt;And what you would be&lt;br /&gt;Now here you stand&lt;br /&gt;Getting so tall and grown up&lt;br /&gt;No longer my baby&lt;br /&gt;Now my little man&lt;br /&gt;And I ask you&lt;br /&gt;If you remember&lt;br /&gt;Remember the way I would sway with you&lt;br /&gt;Before you were born&lt;br /&gt;And when you were a baby&lt;br /&gt;And you say "Yes"&lt;br /&gt;You remember&lt;br /&gt;You say "This feels real mom"&lt;br /&gt;And my heart melts feeling you sway with me&lt;br /&gt;Back and forth&lt;br /&gt;Under my heart&lt;br /&gt;Then you look up at me and smile&lt;br /&gt;"Love you mom" you say&lt;br /&gt;Then your gone&lt;br /&gt;Down the road with your friends&lt;br /&gt;And I stand there watching you&lt;br /&gt;As I sway back and forth&lt;br /&gt;Empty arms knowing how few times are left&lt;br /&gt;To hold you under my heart&lt;br /&gt;Swaying back and forth &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The time really is short. My mother tried to tell me this and I didn't believe her when I had a screaming two year old and newborn. Now they are almost 10 and almost 9 and I long for the two sweet babies to hug and hold. I had a third baby much later and his time flew even faster. I hardly remember his babyhood at all. It went so fast. So cherish the days that you have, even when you feel you are at your wits end. It is all over very quickly and you too will find yourself swaying back and forth with empty arms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7890950380919345507-2612537171911901726?l=beingfreed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/feeds/2612537171911901726/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7890950380919345507&amp;postID=2612537171911901726' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/2612537171911901726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/2612537171911901726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/2009/05/blast-from-past.html' title=''/><author><name>Angi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05691210867008688853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gvRzE9H2pMk/TgEicnQ84II/AAAAAAAAAKk/lkq_5WFztz4/s220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7890950380919345507.post-4620072887971857999</id><published>2009-03-15T21:17:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-15T21:30:03.937-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Aliens Took My Children - Watch Out, They'll Come for Yours too!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/Sb2pEnI8T4I/AAAAAAAAAE0/pBoDmLjJBU0/s1600-h/DSCF2585.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/Sb2pEnI8T4I/AAAAAAAAAE0/pBoDmLjJBU0/s320/DSCF2585.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313589032058113922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went through some old pictures tonight with the mother and mother-in-law. Just had to take pics of some and put them on here and Facebook. The memories that come out of them, wow.  See these cute little guys in red??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, here's the weird thing. I really, really think Aliens came down and stole them and replaced them becuase these teenagers in my house are NOTHING like these guys here. NOTHING. I've thought this before but figured people would think I'm crazy. Maybe those out there that read this that have teenagers can relate, maybe not. But I think it. I think it so much sometimes I get sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/Sb2ph4zqNoI/AAAAAAAAAE8/mJIwnqgPMvA/s1600-h/DSCF2583.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/Sb2ph4zqNoI/AAAAAAAAAE8/mJIwnqgPMvA/s320/DSCF2583.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313589535016892034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now these wonderful guys here in costumes, still my kids. The aliens had not come yet. And they wouldn't come for quite a few years yet. I figure they took them slowly. Grant was the first one to be replaced. It happened somewhere about the time he turned 16.  And it was quick too. One night he came for a cuddle in my bed when the whole house was asleep (he did this a lot, all the way to 16...I looked forward to it so much) and the next day he was different and never came again to cuddle and chat with me.  He began being rude and disrespectful and making messes he didn't clean up. Brent and I called him the rude roommate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, about a year later they came for Ashley. She was about 15. They must come for the girls earlier, i don't know. She went from this sweetie pie that people would stop me and ask "how did you raise such a sweet girl?? Tell us the trick?" to another rude roommate. Very weird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we are down to one kid.  He's still quite a bit younger than the 16 and 15 that the other two got taken so we might be safe for awhile.  I sure hope so. I don't really want to lose another one to those aliens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My question is, do they bring them back? My mom says they do.  Either at age 24 or when they have a child, which ever one comes first. I'm looking forward to seeing my kids again then I guess. I sure miss them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;: )&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7890950380919345507-4620072887971857999?l=beingfreed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/feeds/4620072887971857999/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7890950380919345507&amp;postID=4620072887971857999' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/4620072887971857999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/4620072887971857999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/2009/03/stuck-in-memories.html' title='Aliens Took My Children - Watch Out, They&apos;ll Come for Yours too!'/><author><name>Angi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05691210867008688853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gvRzE9H2pMk/TgEicnQ84II/AAAAAAAAAKk/lkq_5WFztz4/s220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/Sb2pEnI8T4I/AAAAAAAAAE0/pBoDmLjJBU0/s72-c/DSCF2585.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7890950380919345507.post-8700934117822717720</id><published>2009-03-11T18:16:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-11T18:31:26.812-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Why is it....</title><content type='html'>...that teenagers are what they are?? Do we need to be tested?? Do we have to payback for what we did to our own parents as teenagers??  Or is it just the way we get our gray hair for old age? Whatever the reason, I still have to sit and wonder what God was planning when he gave us teenagers. The very word is a problem for me. "Teenagers"  If you search throughout history you will NOT find that word in existence before America had at least 48 of it's states. So who created it? And do they "really" exist, these "teenagers"? Sometimes I think that they didn't exist before the word and that children of that age were just as sweet as the rest of the ages at some point back in history. Once the word was created, then they felt they better live up to it and started misbehaving. That's my feeling anyway, take it or leave it for yourself. But I really think if we hadn't of labeled them all things would be fine.  Just like if you label a child "troubled" more times than not they will live right up to that name.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So why do I lament today? Well, I'm on my second one (yes, I have three teenagers but the third and youngest one has not REALLY hit it yet and so I don't count him) and I'm wore out.  The other night after yet another battle with a teen who thinks they know EVERYTHING and have no qualms about telling it all to my face in not such a nice voice I decided I was done. No, not done with my children. Done with teenagers and so I sat down and prayed and gave them to God. They are really His after all. He just gave them to me for awhile. So, now I'm giving them back. I told Him that they are in His hands (which they always were anyway but I'm verbalizing it so I KNOW with certainty).  And let me tell you, I feel better than I have in three years! That's how long it's been, just shy of three years since the oldest of my dearest, sweetest, most adorable children took on the label of "teenager" and started us on this wild ride. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I can do at this point is go on my knees and pray and pray for these children to not get so lost they can't find their way home.  Pray that they continue to know God like they've know Him as a child. A wise parent of three grown children once told me "The only thing you can do as a parent of teenagers is PRAY PRAY PRAY".  So that's what I'm doing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7890950380919345507-8700934117822717720?l=beingfreed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/feeds/8700934117822717720/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7890950380919345507&amp;postID=8700934117822717720' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/8700934117822717720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/8700934117822717720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/2009/03/why-is-it.html' title='Why is it....'/><author><name>Angi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05691210867008688853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gvRzE9H2pMk/TgEicnQ84II/AAAAAAAAAKk/lkq_5WFztz4/s220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7890950380919345507.post-7932408567137117230</id><published>2009-02-01T20:53:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-01T21:01:04.222-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Girl Weekend in Detroit</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SYZTiWGotCI/AAAAAAAAAEs/dy80BkMu4pM/s1600-h/DSCF2223.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SYZTiWGotCI/AAAAAAAAAEs/dy80BkMu4pM/s320/DSCF2223.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298013861162038306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SYZTiLvjb9I/AAAAAAAAAEk/a_k6E0bhodo/s1600-h/DSCF2211.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SYZTiLvjb9I/AAAAAAAAAEk/a_k6E0bhodo/s320/DSCF2211.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298013858380869586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SYZTh1rWo8I/AAAAAAAAAEc/eP_CInGEbOw/s1600-h/DSCF2199.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SYZTh1rWo8I/AAAAAAAAAEc/eP_CInGEbOw/s320/DSCF2199.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298013852457673666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SYZThn5d3FI/AAAAAAAAAEU/kOt-VVIADvU/s1600-h/DSCF2171.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SYZThn5d3FI/AAAAAAAAAEU/kOt-VVIADvU/s320/DSCF2171.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298013848758770770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we've done Chicago twice and decided to take on Detroit for our girl weekend with my sister Christine and neice Brittany. Ashley and I joined them at my brothers holtel in Dearborn, the Hyatt Regency. Wow, what a gorgeous hotel. We were totally pampered and spoiled. It was awesome. Stayed up till 3:00 in the morning taking like teenagers (my sister and I, the actually proverbial "teenagers" passed out about 1:00).  Here are some quotes from the weekend:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"At least I can find my own mashed potatoes!" Ashley&lt;br /&gt;"I ordered potatoes, where are they??" Christine&lt;br /&gt;"You mean Canada isn't part of the United States???" Ashley and Brittany the homeschool girls&lt;br /&gt;"Don't pee on my laptop!" Angela to Christine&lt;br /&gt;"Scallops!" Ashley&lt;br /&gt;"Hey, ask Chris, I mean Rich!" Ashley talking about the waitor&lt;br /&gt;"He's so cute I want to dunk him in my coffee" Ashley&lt;br /&gt;"Today, Barrak Obama adds Canada as teh 51 first state." Brittany&lt;br /&gt;"Is that how you get your exercise Barry?" As he drops his keys for the 100th time and bends over to pick them up.&lt;br /&gt;"We're losing her!" Brittany about ash falling asleep, but no, the phone vibrates and she's up.&lt;br /&gt;"Can I go to bed now?" Ashley&lt;br /&gt;"Christine, don't you eat too much!" Dad from facebook (even though he wasn't here, he WAS!)&lt;br /&gt;"But facebook IS real!" Angela after being told that Lonny doens't believe.&lt;br /&gt;"Why do they call it Red Bull when it is yellow?? Why not call it yellow Bull?? " Brittany after her first can of Red Bull&lt;br /&gt;"Why are some letters cooler than others???" Angela&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, P is such a nerdy letter" Christine&lt;br /&gt;"Take my pulse!" Brittany have her can of Red Bull&lt;br /&gt;"Wait Aunt Angi!! I dropped my shoe out of the car!" Brittany&lt;br /&gt;"Whoa, naked aunt!" Ashley when she forgot to knock.&lt;br /&gt;"Psych Chris, Um, I mean Rich" Ashley&lt;br /&gt;"Sounds like a book title - Rich and the Magic Forks!" Christine&lt;br /&gt;"What are you looking at swan??" Ashley&lt;br /&gt;"I can't get to the plates!" Brittany&lt;br /&gt;"Why did you stop at the yellow light?" Brittany to Aunt Angi when she pulled nicely to a stop at a red light - doesn't it make you wonder how she drives??? to which I explained to her that yellow means slow down. to which she says "Oh, okay, I've been doing it wrong."&lt;br /&gt;"It's just better at the Hyatt." All of us&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, every single one of them in an inside joke but I'm sure it will bring back memories for years to come when we read them. We were all laughing so hard this weekend our sides hurt. Shoot, my jaw is aching!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can see all the pictures if you are interested on my facebook but here are a couple teasers.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7890950380919345507-7932408567137117230?l=beingfreed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/feeds/7932408567137117230/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7890950380919345507&amp;postID=7932408567137117230' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/7932408567137117230'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/7932408567137117230'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/2009/02/girl-weekend-in-detroit.html' title='The Girl Weekend in Detroit'/><author><name>Angi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05691210867008688853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gvRzE9H2pMk/TgEicnQ84II/AAAAAAAAAKk/lkq_5WFztz4/s220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SYZTiWGotCI/AAAAAAAAAEs/dy80BkMu4pM/s72-c/DSCF2223.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7890950380919345507.post-3558280737340596231</id><published>2008-11-30T18:31:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-30T18:39:50.812-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Decorating the Tree</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274599281792576882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/STMkGcvG7XI/AAAAAAAAAEM/RZJB_ACjzK0/s320/DSCF1268.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/STMi0-Isq-I/AAAAAAAAAEE/EPQMepbKEKo/s1600-h/DSCF1273.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274597882009005026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/STMi0-Isq-I/AAAAAAAAAEE/EPQMepbKEKo/s320/DSCF1273.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tonight was tree decorating night. Love this night and God blessed us with gorgeous snow for the occaision. Love how it's coming down white and heavy and beautiful. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, this night is quite different now that we have all teenagers. Grant and his girlfriend lounged on the couch nearby, reluctantly. Had to drag them in and get them to hang. Grant had Ally put his things on the tree. Ashley was popping in and out, mostly on the computer and then hollaring at me about putting her picture on the internet. Blake was still into it but not near as much as last year. 13 is an odd age. Sometimes acting young, others acting like a full blown teen. Today he's been more young, cuddling me while we watched the Santa Clause and still wanting to decorate. Love that and cherish that, this is my last one! Ahhhh....so sad, so bittersweet.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now the four of them are all cuddled up in the living room, next to the lighted tree, and watching Home Alone. I close listening to their laughter....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7890950380919345507-3558280737340596231?l=beingfreed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/feeds/3558280737340596231/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7890950380919345507&amp;postID=3558280737340596231' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/3558280737340596231'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/3558280737340596231'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/2008/11/decorating-tree.html' title='Decorating the Tree'/><author><name>Angi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05691210867008688853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gvRzE9H2pMk/TgEicnQ84II/AAAAAAAAAKk/lkq_5WFztz4/s220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/STMkGcvG7XI/AAAAAAAAAEM/RZJB_ACjzK0/s72-c/DSCF1268.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7890950380919345507.post-3341692703004765306</id><published>2008-11-27T11:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-28T17:09:11.244-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Thanksgiving</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/STBr9kcB8NI/AAAAAAAAAD8/FYJ-rdIKfdE/s1600-h/my+kids+nov+2008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273833869148287186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/STBr9kcB8NI/AAAAAAAAAD8/FYJ-rdIKfdE/s320/my+kids+nov+2008.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So much to be thankful for I don't even know where to start. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My faith, my family, my friends....God has surely blessed me and I never feel worthy enough for all of it. But I thank Him just the same. We're all healthy, we have jobs to support us and that we both enjoy, my eighteen year old is doing awesome in college and work and coming around out of his pain in the butt status - love him! My thirteen year old is doing so much better in school this year (homeschooling) and working hard at his first job. My daughter is so beautiful and doing awesome in school (except for French 3 right ash?? LOL She says two years should have been enough) and graduating this year. We have a great home over our heads, cars to drive (well, two solid ones and one that loves to keep us guessing - but that's the fun of living right? A little gamble! LOL) We've got family galore (every other day we're with family - or they're spending the night, or we're playing cards, or we're out to dinner) to support us, friends who love to hang with us (card parties in the winter, bonfires in the fall and summer, hunting groups, coffee meet ups) - what more could we ask for?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thank you Lord for all of it. None of it is becuase of me, all of it is because of You!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I leave you with a pic I took yesterday of three of my blessings....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7890950380919345507-3341692703004765306?l=beingfreed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/feeds/3341692703004765306/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7890950380919345507&amp;postID=3341692703004765306' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/3341692703004765306'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/3341692703004765306'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/2008/11/happy-thanksgiving.html' title='Happy Thanksgiving'/><author><name>Angi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05691210867008688853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gvRzE9H2pMk/TgEicnQ84II/AAAAAAAAAKk/lkq_5WFztz4/s220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/STBr9kcB8NI/AAAAAAAAAD8/FYJ-rdIKfdE/s72-c/my+kids+nov+2008.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7890950380919345507.post-8723191452026869715</id><published>2008-11-23T20:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-23T20:51:32.432-05:00</updated><title type='text'>On Leadership</title><content type='html'>Today we talked about leadership at church.  Thought I throw down a couple of interesting points about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leadership starts with a servants heart. A good leader will actually serve those around him.  This hit me. I mean, think of the kind of people who have been leaders to you: teachers, parents, pastors, bosses - which ones did you like the most? Probalby those who didn't just expect you to do for them but the ones who did things for you stand out to you don't they? I had a 6th grade teacher who was amazing. She stands out to me. I thought about the reason she stands out and it's because she cared about me and did things to help me out when my parents were going through a divorce and I had changed schools several times. She had a servants heart and becuase of this I was more likely to follow her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, as always I apply this to my parenting and wonder how the kids see me. Does my servants heart show through to them?  I hope so. I hope they know how much I care about them and want to do things for them. And I hope it makes me a better leader/parent to them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you Lord for the wonderful Sunday with my family.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7890950380919345507-8723191452026869715?l=beingfreed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/feeds/8723191452026869715/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7890950380919345507&amp;postID=8723191452026869715' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/8723191452026869715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/8723191452026869715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/2008/11/on-leadership.html' title='On Leadership'/><author><name>Angi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05691210867008688853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gvRzE9H2pMk/TgEicnQ84II/AAAAAAAAAKk/lkq_5WFztz4/s220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7890950380919345507.post-5932187535664437089</id><published>2008-11-23T12:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-23T12:52:15.259-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Raising Teenagers is like Nailing Jello to a Tree</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SSmYKSNgdSI/AAAAAAAAAD0/jLYa80v1Sek/s1600-h/DSCF0488.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271912141268481314" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SSmYKSNgdSI/AAAAAAAAAD0/jLYa80v1Sek/s320/DSCF0488.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Teenagers, such a bitter sweet experience raising them, let me tell you people. And Brent and I are in uncharted territory as far as our friends and family go. We're the first to have them and the first to go through what you go through with them. (As we've been with every stage in having children since everyone else waited and we jumped right in LOL). But we're learning all the time what it takes, learning on the job. But isn't that the definition of parenting? Learning on the job?? Do the best you can do, love them, teach them, and pray for them to make it through the teenage years.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Sweet:&lt;/strong&gt; Those big kid hugs that are so rare seem so much more precious now when you get them. As babies they "need" the loving like food and water and you just get thier cuddles and kisses all day long. When they are teenagers, even though they actually still need it, they wouldn't admit that if their life depended on. So when you get the hugs, or a hand hold, you know they are doing it becuase they want to. Exactly how I think God feels when you come to him for no other reason than you want to. Not becuase you need anything. Getting that loving from a teenager is special. It is much further and farther between but when you get a little, you know they are doing it for other reasons; for you (maybe realizing a mom needs a hug or loving) or becuase they just want to hug you. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Bitter Sweet:&lt;/strong&gt; Today we were all in the car together, as a family. What's the big deal you ask? Well, this doesn't happen much any more now that Grant is graduated and has his own car. And since Ashley got more of her own life going on. Even Sunday's, Grant has met us at church. Today we were all in the same car for the first time in months and I cherished it. I looked around the car at my family and thought, I wonder how long before this happens again?? Or will it ever again? Call me crazy sentimental, I know. I'm the same crazy person that thought about that last time you put your child down and NEVER pick them up again. Here, let me explain. You know how you are always picking up your baby, your toddler, you little kid, shoot, i'm still picking up Blake so 13 isn't unheard of. But....there will come a day when you pick up that big kid, hug him, set his/her feet on the ground and you NEVER pick them up in your arms again, ever. This is such a sad thought to me, especially since it's practically impossible to know when that last time is. On thinking about this today I think I haven't picked up Blake now in a bit and I'll bet I can't any more. He jsut grew like 5 inches and two shoe sizes in the last month. Now, of course, I'll have to try but I'll bet it's over. A month or two ago I picked him up, hugged him, and set him down to never hold my baby in my arms like that again. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, teenagers are an interesting species. We are doing our best and praying every day but in the end, this walk of life we each have, it's between ourselves and our God and no one else. Brent and I can be there to guide them and love them and help them, but they have to make the decisions themselves on how they walk the walk. And something I had to learn early on so I wouldn't go crazy, it's not personal to the parents. If you did your best, if you will be proud to stand before God and go over your parenting style with him, then it is not personal if your child turns out to be the black sheep of them family. That is personal between the child and God. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Parenting is personal too....this is what I tell people who want to give me advice, and Brent tells them this too, if you havne't been through what we've been through, and been through it successfully, then do NOT give us advice. We only take advice from parents who have successfully been through the stage that we are at now. Now, I love comparing issues with parents who are IN the same issues we are in. But if you don't have teenagers, don't try to give people advice about their teenagers. You have NO clue what it's like raising and loving one of these interesting creatures.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So yeah, it is like nailing jello to a tree trying to raise these guys, but knowing that I have God, and that I've been raising my children the way God tells me to raise them since day one, then I know I just have to keep trying to nail that Jello up to that tree and hope it starts sticking one day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7890950380919345507-5932187535664437089?l=beingfreed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/feeds/5932187535664437089/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7890950380919345507&amp;postID=5932187535664437089' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/5932187535664437089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/5932187535664437089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/2008/11/raising-teenagers-is-like-nailing-jello.html' title='Raising Teenagers is like Nailing Jello to a Tree'/><author><name>Angi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05691210867008688853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gvRzE9H2pMk/TgEicnQ84II/AAAAAAAAAKk/lkq_5WFztz4/s220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SSmYKSNgdSI/AAAAAAAAAD0/jLYa80v1Sek/s72-c/DSCF0488.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7890950380919345507.post-8928790223902314347</id><published>2008-11-23T00:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-23T00:14:19.956-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Missing My Trip</title><content type='html'>I have been so bummed for the past two days. Ashley and I were supposed to go to my sister's for our annual visit during hunting week and the weather made us cancel.   Living in Michigan can totally suck some times.  You just never know what the weather is going to do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, years past we have had a lot of fun. When the kids were all young and I was a stay at home, homeschooling mom, we made an entire week out of it! Each year we took turns at each other's houses.  You'd find us going on field trips together, schooling the kids on a project together, doing art/crafts (one year we made duct tape purses, flip flops, and bikini's!), or bible studies. It was always a lot of fun! Those years have gone now and it has shrunk to a weekend and as of last year shrunk to the girls only.  Oh well, times are always changing and there's nothing you can do about it . : ( Just wish we could have gone this year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, instead of that, my husband said he'd take me out all weekend and make sure I had some fun.  Last night we did dinner and a movie. The movie by the way, was extremely dramatic and I left wanting to cry. People behind me were actually crying. It was called "The Boy in the Striped Pajama's" and it was about a concentration camp.  The ending was unexpected and definitely not happy.  Just awful.  A well done movie but the topic just is never going to be anything to smile about obviously.  Then this morning he made me breakfast and we got on a long over due honey due list and house cleaning. The kids all pitched in and we got a lot done!  Tonight he made us a turkey dinner with the fixings ( I have NO IDEA why he did this so close to our thanksgiving dinners but I didn't push it, LOL) and then we went to hang with Spencer and Caroline (Brent's brother and his wife) to relax and visit (Lonier's came too so the gang was just about all there). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow is church and then I'm not sure what yet but I have to do something so I dont' think about missing my sister and our visit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7890950380919345507-8928790223902314347?l=beingfreed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/feeds/8928790223902314347/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7890950380919345507&amp;postID=8928790223902314347' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/8928790223902314347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/8928790223902314347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/2008/11/missing-my-trip.html' title='Missing My Trip'/><author><name>Angi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05691210867008688853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gvRzE9H2pMk/TgEicnQ84II/AAAAAAAAAKk/lkq_5WFztz4/s220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7890950380919345507.post-3681648559744826551</id><published>2008-11-16T09:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-16T09:06:57.264-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Verse for This Snowy Sunday</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SSAo9QlXeUI/AAAAAAAAADs/UP2-yidOsAw/s1600-h/cross.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269256596912306498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 115px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 198px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SSAo9QlXeUI/AAAAAAAAADs/UP2-yidOsAw/s320/cross.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:130%;"&gt;And without faith it is impossible to please God, because anyone who comes to him must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who earnestly seek him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Hebrews 11:6&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7890950380919345507-3681648559744826551?l=beingfreed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/feeds/3681648559744826551/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7890950380919345507&amp;postID=3681648559744826551' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/3681648559744826551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/3681648559744826551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/2008/11/verse-for-this-snowy-sunday.html' title='Verse for This Snowy Sunday'/><author><name>Angi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05691210867008688853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gvRzE9H2pMk/TgEicnQ84II/AAAAAAAAAKk/lkq_5WFztz4/s220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SSAo9QlXeUI/AAAAAAAAADs/UP2-yidOsAw/s72-c/cross.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7890950380919345507.post-7623495980655109660</id><published>2008-11-15T22:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-15T22:37:03.566-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Opening Day 2008</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt; &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269094001926949730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SR-VE_D_S2I/AAAAAAAAADk/JbvdGUhRxPg/s320/DSCF0965.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269093996575816674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SR-VErILe-I/AAAAAAAAADc/TcRGhi86kg0/s320/DSCF0928.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;What a cool day in history, Freed history that is. This is definitely one for the record books.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, Brent and Spencer have been hunting on Spencer new land in Clinton county (just down the road from us). Today, opening day of gun, they were there again and planned to stay all day. They actually gave up a 25 year tradition of being in the UP on this day. (side note - this is the first time in 25 years I've seen Brent on November 15th - weird!) Anyway, about noon Brent calls to me and whispers (which I don't really get???) that Spencer got a nine point so he had to stay out to get one instead of coming in and warming up. I whisper back "Well, have fun babe, I'm going shopping". &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Two hours later I get another phone call. I open my cell phone to more whispering "I got one, I got one!" Now, if he got it, why are we whispering??? So he's all excited and tells me he'll call me back to tell me what he got. I was so happy for him. Love seeing him so geeked.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, I head over there to take pics for the guys and it turns out Brent's is a 10 point! So, Brent and Spencer both got big bucks today, two hours apart, from the same stand, using the same gun! What are the odds of brothers doing that on opening day? I'm so happy for these guys. Well, enough of the girl version of the story, here are the pics. If you want the guy version of the story I'm sure Brent or Spencer will tell you all about it even if you don't ask! LOL&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7890950380919345507-7623495980655109660?l=beingfreed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/feeds/7623495980655109660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7890950380919345507&amp;postID=7623495980655109660' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/7623495980655109660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/7623495980655109660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/2008/11/opening-day-2008.html' title='Opening Day 2008'/><author><name>Angi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05691210867008688853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gvRzE9H2pMk/TgEicnQ84II/AAAAAAAAAKk/lkq_5WFztz4/s220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SR-VE_D_S2I/AAAAAAAAADk/JbvdGUhRxPg/s72-c/DSCF0965.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7890950380919345507.post-1288507198976249342</id><published>2008-11-12T21:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T21:35:48.232-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Kids</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SRuR9VsORuI/AAAAAAAAADU/Jk0wXzbtZYM/s1600-h/DSCF0905.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267964672120604386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SRuR9VsORuI/AAAAAAAAADU/Jk0wXzbtZYM/s320/DSCF0905.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Here is Blake thinking he's way too cool ....I just found this picture on my camera. Don't know when he took it but I just bought him that jacket last week. LOL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SRuR8ubSf6I/AAAAAAAAADM/y1NJcQ-dkJQ/s1600-h/grantally.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267964661580595106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SRuR8ubSf6I/AAAAAAAAADM/y1NJcQ-dkJQ/s320/grantally.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is Grant and his girlfriend Ally.  Ashley gave me this picture off her MySpace. I thought it was sooooo cute! He probably doesn't even know I have it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SRuR8StrTHI/AAAAAAAAADE/GboO6roosw4/s1600-h/ashfootball.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267964654141525106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 170px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 226px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SRuR8StrTHI/AAAAAAAAADE/GboO6roosw4/s320/ashfootball.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; And my one and only girl....this is Ashley's pic from her camera but I just thought it was too cute.  Love her happy smile....and don't knwo what is up with two of my kids taking pics of themselves in the mirror.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just thought I'd throw in some current pics of my kiddos, snapshots. I rarely do the snapshot thing but I know I should more. Brent actually gets after me for always having posed/professional shots. Sheesh, what a problem! Anyway...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7890950380919345507-1288507198976249342?l=beingfreed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/feeds/1288507198976249342/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7890950380919345507&amp;postID=1288507198976249342' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/1288507198976249342'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/1288507198976249342'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/2008/11/my-kids.html' title='My Kids'/><author><name>Angi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05691210867008688853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gvRzE9H2pMk/TgEicnQ84II/AAAAAAAAAKk/lkq_5WFztz4/s220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SRuR9VsORuI/AAAAAAAAADU/Jk0wXzbtZYM/s72-c/DSCF0905.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7890950380919345507.post-7262570645399341187</id><published>2008-11-05T16:21:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-05T16:21:50.733-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Verse for Today</title><content type='html'>Everyone must submit himself to the governing authorities, for there is no authority except that which God has established. The authorities that exist have been established by God. - Romans 13:1 (NIV)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7890950380919345507-7262570645399341187?l=beingfreed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/feeds/7262570645399341187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7890950380919345507&amp;postID=7262570645399341187' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/7262570645399341187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/7262570645399341187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/2008/11/verse-for-today.html' title='Verse for Today'/><author><name>Angi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05691210867008688853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gvRzE9H2pMk/TgEicnQ84II/AAAAAAAAAKk/lkq_5WFztz4/s220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7890950380919345507.post-6973584641079987665</id><published>2008-11-05T07:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-05T07:21:58.894-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Election</title><content type='html'>Well, all I can say about this election is I'm glad God is in charge. He must have a reason to allow someone like Barrak Obama to come to presidency. Someone who could not even get FBI clearance becuase of all his questionable connections. Someone who believes in allowing people to kill babies.  Someone who thinks it's okay to sit on your backside all day long and collect money from the hard working people of America. Someone who's own pastor damn's America. Someone who had Cuban flags in several of his campaign offices (probably becuase of money he recieved from them and had to display them).  Someone who is more comfortable running America in a communistic way. The attitude of "we deserve it" is rampant in America. You DON'T deserve free hand out's people. You have to WORK for the American dream and the rich people who did just that deserve it. If you want the "American Dream" but don't work for it you DON'T deserve anything extra.  And someone who says gays have rights....so everyone is okay that in the future your children and grandchildren will be exposed to gay behavorior right in the streets instead of allowing those people to keep their sin between them and God? Scary.  Sinning should not be made legal. I am not judging sinners. I'm a sinner just like everyone else. But I don't flaunt my sin. I'm ashamed of my sin and ask God's forgiveness every day.  But some how a lot of America is okay with these things and that scares me for our future unless I think how God is in charge and this is in His grand plan. Thank you Lord. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, sorry for getting heated. I'm just bothered, extremely.  My children have to grow up in this world, unless God comes back before then and honestly, I think He is coming soon. This place is getting out of hand and He isn't going to tolerate it much longer. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Lord - your will be done on Earth as it is in Heaven. You are in charge God.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7890950380919345507-6973584641079987665?l=beingfreed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/feeds/6973584641079987665/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7890950380919345507&amp;postID=6973584641079987665' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/6973584641079987665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/6973584641079987665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/2008/11/election.html' title='Election'/><author><name>Angi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05691210867008688853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gvRzE9H2pMk/TgEicnQ84II/AAAAAAAAAKk/lkq_5WFztz4/s220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7890950380919345507.post-6242647846038464991</id><published>2008-11-01T22:56:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-11-01T23:03:22.312-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Quincy</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We've had Quincy over for the weekend and I took the opportunity to take some new pictures of her. Here are some of them:&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263889554458787522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SQ0XqRZnvsI/AAAAAAAAACk/EHTSfxpDYs0/s320/quincy3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263889551132854242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SQ0XqFAqB-I/AAAAAAAAACc/rcKQfvjRizk/s320/quincy2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263889550729884274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 229px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SQ0XqDglMnI/AAAAAAAAACU/oUXu2Cfg4oU/s320/quincy1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've just been hanging out and then tonight Brent and I took her and Blake to dinner at Relli's in Dewitt.  The last picture above was Quincy's idea. She made me drag that chair outside and then she posed all on her own. Do you think she's grown up with a photographer for an aunt??&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7890950380919345507-6242647846038464991?l=beingfreed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/feeds/6242647846038464991/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7890950380919345507&amp;postID=6242647846038464991' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/6242647846038464991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/6242647846038464991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/2008/11/quincy.html' title='Quincy'/><author><name>Angi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05691210867008688853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gvRzE9H2pMk/TgEicnQ84II/AAAAAAAAAKk/lkq_5WFztz4/s220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SQ0XqRZnvsI/AAAAAAAAACk/EHTSfxpDYs0/s72-c/quincy3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7890950380919345507.post-4443144755448927828</id><published>2008-10-28T22:20:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-28T22:32:56.579-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Fireproof - Wow!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SQfIxlsGaTI/AAAAAAAAACM/-n3axi_kJQc/s1600-h/fireproof_galleryposter.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262395443861940530" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 216px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SQfIxlsGaTI/AAAAAAAAACM/-n3axi_kJQc/s320/fireproof_galleryposter.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Went on a date night tonight with my hubby to see Fireproof. Wow guys, go see this movie! It was awesome. And make sure and take your spouse along.  I left that theatre feeling so good and inspired.  The movie does start a little slow but give it time becuase it gets great!  This movie got me thinking too, just like Sunday night at church.  But I don't want to give the movie away and talk about much of it. Just go see it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7890950380919345507-4443144755448927828?l=beingfreed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/feeds/4443144755448927828/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7890950380919345507&amp;postID=4443144755448927828' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/4443144755448927828'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/4443144755448927828'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/2008/10/fireproof-wow.html' title='Fireproof - Wow!'/><author><name>Angi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05691210867008688853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gvRzE9H2pMk/TgEicnQ84II/AAAAAAAAAKk/lkq_5WFztz4/s220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SQfIxlsGaTI/AAAAAAAAACM/-n3axi_kJQc/s72-c/fireproof_galleryposter.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7890950380919345507.post-3313778178911108828</id><published>2008-10-27T21:33:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-27T21:34:40.866-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7890950380919345507-3313778178911108828?l=beingfreed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/feeds/3313778178911108828/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7890950380919345507&amp;postID=3313778178911108828' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/3313778178911108828'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/3313778178911108828'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/2008/10/on-being-freed.html' title=''/><author><name>Angi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05691210867008688853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gvRzE9H2pMk/TgEicnQ84II/AAAAAAAAAKk/lkq_5WFztz4/s220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7890950380919345507.post-4934743593687346328</id><published>2008-10-26T22:05:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-26T22:17:47.741-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Jack Van Impe</title><content type='html'>Wow, just got back from seeing Jack Van Impe tonight at church. Wow. What a wonderful speaker and his message tonight on the end times was incredible. I could never tell you everything about it so if you're interested in God or the end times or salvation, or anything, his site is great. &lt;a href="http://www.jvim.com/"&gt;www.jvim.com&lt;/a&gt; .  Or you could talk to me too. Anyway, I took my whole family tonight, even my mom and Grant's girlfriend.  I sure hope they all took it in. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And just for myself, thinking about what I heard tonight, makes me want to get more on fire for God and do more to spread his word and his love. I know my main mission field is my children and I've been doing that since the day they were born. And I loved doing the Young Christian Leaders Group I started with a friend at my old school. But I'm not there any more and I want to do something more like that again. I'll be praying that God gives me some more things to do. I actually am going to stay a little involved with the Young Christian Leaders from my old school. The guy I started it with called me last week and asked if I could at least go to the activities and help with the devotions at the activities. I jumped at the chance for sure. I miss those guys. Well, I'm doing a lot of thinking tonight for sure. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God is awesome! And in case anyone reading this doesn't know, God does love you, just like a mother or father loves their children (and all of us with children know how much that love encompasses us).  And this is how I've been feeling since i've had teenagers. We are teenagers to God's parenting....acting out, sinning, partying, and then trying to be good, trying to be respectful, you know, bouncing around like teenagers do, all the drama.  The same way I feel about my teenagers I know God feels for me, for all of us.  He just keeps loving even when we mess up. And he waits patiently for us to come back if we run off on a crazy time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7890950380919345507-4934743593687346328?l=beingfreed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/feeds/4934743593687346328/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7890950380919345507&amp;postID=4934743593687346328' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/4934743593687346328'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/4934743593687346328'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/2008/10/jack-van-impe.html' title='Jack Van Impe'/><author><name>Angi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05691210867008688853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gvRzE9H2pMk/TgEicnQ84II/AAAAAAAAAKk/lkq_5WFztz4/s220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7890950380919345507.post-4802557639771198531</id><published>2008-10-25T16:45:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-25T16:50:01.759-04:00</updated><title type='text'>More of the Senior Shoot</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SQOFytH88gI/AAAAAAAAACE/0jFkz_WEOWk/s1600-h/woodschair.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261195895851774466" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 213px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SQOFytH88gI/AAAAAAAAACE/0jFkz_WEOWk/s320/woodschair.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SQOFyYGMH7I/AAAAAAAAAB8/3m4KC4LLH4E/s1600-h/ashraspberry.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261195890207236018" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 213px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SQOFyYGMH7I/AAAAAAAAAB8/3m4KC4LLH4E/s320/ashraspberry.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here are a couple more pics of Ashley's shoot with me the day we went driving around. The goofy girl of mine just changed right in the car without a care in the world! I would never have done that when I was her age. But I love this color on her. I have to remember that and buy her more stuff this shade. I can't believce what it does for her.  This is two different spots but the one with the woods in the background was so gorgeous. the wind was blowing leaves down while we were shooting and it was very peaceful. I coul dhave sat there all day. Anyway, as always I ask, isn't my daughter just so pretty??? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7890950380919345507-4802557639771198531?l=beingfreed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/feeds/4802557639771198531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7890950380919345507&amp;postID=4802557639771198531' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/4802557639771198531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/4802557639771198531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/2008/10/more-of-senior-shoot.html' title='More of the Senior Shoot'/><author><name>Angi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05691210867008688853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gvRzE9H2pMk/TgEicnQ84II/AAAAAAAAAKk/lkq_5WFztz4/s220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SQOFytH88gI/AAAAAAAAACE/0jFkz_WEOWk/s72-c/woodschair.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7890950380919345507.post-2633772018663645731</id><published>2008-10-25T00:23:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-25T00:31:08.897-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Scared....</title><content type='html'>Tonight I was sitting here with Blake and Brooks when we all heard what sounded like cupboard doors being opened and closed several times upstairs. We were all downstairs including the dog so what could the noise have been?? Well, needless to say we all jumped up and ran out of the house, got in the truck and pulled out the driveway and watched.  Even grabbed the dog! Luckily I had my cell phone on me and I called Brent and the cops. See, Ashley had left earlier in the evening and left the front door unlocked. We got home late and I didn't like seeing that the door was unlocked but settled in for the evening any way.  An hour later we heard the noise and there's no way it was a mistake, or something falling. Well, the cops checked the house and found nothing but they took about 15 minutes to get here and we were parked across the street. There was plenty of time for someone to run off. That's the only reason they could have been making the noise. I figured we trapped someone in here and they were wanting out so they made the noise to freak us out so they could get out. Well, now we're all freaked out, an hour later and cops gone. Grrrrrr....hate this feeling. And Brent's not home yet either. I also have two boys who do not want to stay here tonight. Well, that's my story. Guess we just have to get past it and go to bed. Hate stuff like this....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7890950380919345507-2633772018663645731?l=beingfreed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/feeds/2633772018663645731/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7890950380919345507&amp;postID=2633772018663645731' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/2633772018663645731'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/2633772018663645731'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/2008/10/scared.html' title='Scared....'/><author><name>Angi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05691210867008688853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gvRzE9H2pMk/TgEicnQ84II/AAAAAAAAAKk/lkq_5WFztz4/s220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7890950380919345507.post-7019169709361431170</id><published>2008-10-23T22:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-23T22:36:13.906-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Hugs</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SQE0kUawbaI/AAAAAAAAAB0/EepCk30vHRs/s1600-h/granttracks.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260543638306319778" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 230px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SQE0kUawbaI/AAAAAAAAAB0/EepCk30vHRs/s320/granttracks.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Why are hugs so great?? All I know is a hug feels so good and it feels even more extra special when you get it from you 18 year old son who thinks he's a grown up. Those hugs are few and far between and when I get one, it melts me inside. I snuggle in and smell my baby's neck and wonder how he's bigger than me. He squeezes me tight, for a second, maybe two, and then is off but wow, I could live off a hug like that for days. If you dont' have teenagers, you probably can not even close to understand this but things change dramatically as your kids get to this age. It's bitter sweet. Of course they have to pull away and go and be themselves out there in the big world but it hurts just the same becuase to me, with the weird way time folds on itself, he's still my baby. I swear his neck still smells exactly the same. So, I'm just thankful to God tonight for the moments he still gives me, however small they are. That boy of mine can be a pain, but I love him so much....so much...my first born. My dreams of motherhood came true the day he was born.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7890950380919345507-7019169709361431170?l=beingfreed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/feeds/7019169709361431170/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7890950380919345507&amp;postID=7019169709361431170' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/7019169709361431170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/7019169709361431170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/2008/10/hugs.html' title='Hugs'/><author><name>Angi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05691210867008688853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gvRzE9H2pMk/TgEicnQ84II/AAAAAAAAAKk/lkq_5WFztz4/s220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SQE0kUawbaI/AAAAAAAAAB0/EepCk30vHRs/s72-c/granttracks.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7890950380919345507.post-3263648906762898414</id><published>2008-10-23T18:24:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-23T18:31:04.207-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I Don't Know...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SQD7IZ2yxxI/AAAAAAAAABs/cTwvcONJm6c/s1600-h/ashdrummond.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260480486566971154" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 306px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SQD7IZ2yxxI/AAAAAAAAABs/cTwvcONJm6c/s320/ashdrummond.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Made my girl laugh ..... she's been wanting this guy to pick her up and take her to school every morning. Well, I don't know him and that' s a rule about hanging out with friends...if I don't know them, then the answer is no. She just keeps bugging me like crazy the last few days and I started quoting "My Big Fat Greek Wedding" - a show we both love....the dad says when he learns about the new guy " is he a nice boy? I don't know. does he come from a nice family? I don't know. Do they go to church? I DON'T KNOW" She figured out what I was doing and started lauhging and calling me crazy. Well, bottom line, he has to come over and hang out a few times if she wants to ride with him. Yeah, I'm a mean mom and I'm proud of it!! But you know what I do know? I love my daughter with every part of my being and I will always love her no matter what.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7890950380919345507-3263648906762898414?l=beingfreed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/feeds/3263648906762898414/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7890950380919345507&amp;postID=3263648906762898414' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/3263648906762898414'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/3263648906762898414'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/2008/10/i-dont-know.html' title='I Don&apos;t Know...'/><author><name>Angi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05691210867008688853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gvRzE9H2pMk/TgEicnQ84II/AAAAAAAAAKk/lkq_5WFztz4/s220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SQD7IZ2yxxI/AAAAAAAAABs/cTwvcONJm6c/s72-c/ashdrummond.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7890950380919345507.post-3365091088678936672</id><published>2008-10-22T22:16:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-22T22:19:45.278-04:00</updated><title type='text'>21 years - and it's like yesterday</title><content type='html'>What a cool night. I met with a friend after 21 years!  We both took the same mission trip to Africa in 1987...whoa, 1987...and just ran into each other on Facebook and then realized our kids go to the same homeschool group and she lives about eight miles down the road! How crazy is that? So we met for coffee tonight and talk about the old days and the old friends and caught up. Made the years melt away on the one hand but made me feel old on the other when we talked about it being 21 years ago.  Wow! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was sure fun though, catching up with an old friend, someone who knew you "when"... you were young, skinny, carefree, and full of dreams....those were the days.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7890950380919345507-3365091088678936672?l=beingfreed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/feeds/3365091088678936672/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7890950380919345507&amp;postID=3365091088678936672' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/3365091088678936672'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/3365091088678936672'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/2008/10/21-years-and-its-like-yesterday.html' title='21 years - and it&apos;s like yesterday'/><author><name>Angi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05691210867008688853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gvRzE9H2pMk/TgEicnQ84II/AAAAAAAAAKk/lkq_5WFztz4/s220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7890950380919345507.post-8445775197201068754</id><published>2008-10-21T20:39:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-21T22:03:50.695-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Facebook</title><content type='html'>Just thinking tonight how glad I am I started using facebook. I've found so many of my old friends and have been keeping in better touch with family. My sister and I had not been able to have as many phone calls as we used to either and now we're keeping in better touch. I'm loving it.  I found friends from my two Teen Missions teams from back in the 80's. How cool is that? Makes me feel young and old at the same time.  We're all sharing photos and memories.  Good times for this old soul of mine, almost that dreaded 40 here in a very short few weeks.  Where did the years go?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7890950380919345507-8445775197201068754?l=beingfreed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/feeds/8445775197201068754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7890950380919345507&amp;postID=8445775197201068754' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/8445775197201068754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/8445775197201068754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/2008/10/facebook.html' title='Facebook'/><author><name>Angi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05691210867008688853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gvRzE9H2pMk/TgEicnQ84II/AAAAAAAAAKk/lkq_5WFztz4/s220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7890950380919345507.post-6305020603877577866</id><published>2008-10-20T20:28:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-20T20:34:13.832-04:00</updated><title type='text'>random thoughts on a monday</title><content type='html'>why are teenagers so....so....grrrrrr....? Well, my mom's says so it doens't hurt so bad when they leave. Hmmmm, she just might be right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rainy fall days are awesome, seriously, call me crazy but I love them! cuddle up with a book by the fire awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ashley is not happy tonight - we took the land line phone all the way down to basic so she can't use it anymore except for quick calls. She is so in love with her daddy now! NOT!  We just figure it's dumb paying for it when we all (except Ash) have cell phones. I'm only keeping it so the house has a phone - meaning Ashley - for emergencies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spent a while teaching Blake tonigth about the French and Indian War. Love history - I get so into it and he's like "yeah, mom, got it, can we move on??"  Then we did his math and he got 100%. His math is now an overall A and last year he was so NOT an A, if you get my meaning. Brent and I are so proud of him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7890950380919345507-6305020603877577866?l=beingfreed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/feeds/6305020603877577866/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7890950380919345507&amp;postID=6305020603877577866' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/6305020603877577866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/6305020603877577866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/2008/10/random-thoughts-on-monday.html' title='random thoughts on a monday'/><author><name>Angi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05691210867008688853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gvRzE9H2pMk/TgEicnQ84II/AAAAAAAAAKk/lkq_5WFztz4/s220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7890950380919345507.post-3170943989172185875</id><published>2008-10-19T21:46:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-19T22:03:48.955-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Two Thoughts For Sunday</title><content type='html'>"take the world up out of me, put the fruit back on the tree"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Make it your ambition to lead a quiet life, to mind your own business and to work with your hands, just as we told you so that your daily life may win respect of outsiders and so that you will not be dependent on anybody." 1 Thessalonians 4:11-12&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These two thoughts really caught me today. The first one in a song - I hear this song all the time and this sentence always catches me. The second one caught my eye when I was looking for something else in my Bible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do they make me feel?? Convicted.  Everyday I let the world take over my mind and many times I'll get to bed and begin my good night prayer to the Lord and realize I spent no time with him today other than a few quick prayers. This makes me sad and I think of how I'd feel if my children were too busy for me all day, several days in a row.  So Lord, I ask you to help me take the world out and put You in.  On the verse, whoa, yeah, minding my own business to me could encompass gossiping or talking about what is going on in other peoples' lives. Where do you draw the line? I guess if you're talking about uplifting things it's not gossip but anything that's not uplifting would be gossip.  Lord, help me mind my own business!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7890950380919345507-3170943989172185875?l=beingfreed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/feeds/3170943989172185875/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7890950380919345507&amp;postID=3170943989172185875' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/3170943989172185875'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/3170943989172185875'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/2008/10/two-thoughts-for-sunday.html' title='Two Thoughts For Sunday'/><author><name>Angi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05691210867008688853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gvRzE9H2pMk/TgEicnQ84II/AAAAAAAAAKk/lkq_5WFztz4/s220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7890950380919345507.post-6707156482083118514</id><published>2008-10-19T19:28:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-19T19:33:46.196-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Time with my Daughter</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SPvDfoHyLHI/AAAAAAAAABg/LIAuUwuf7kw/s1600-h/settingsun.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259011937998613618" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SPvDfoHyLHI/AAAAAAAAABg/LIAuUwuf7kw/s320/settingsun.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Went off this afternoon with my daughter to take pictures for her senior shoot. We are totally spreading it out and she's able to do her hair differently each time. We had fun driving around the back roads looking for spots. We stopped at one place and off in the distance there were cows. Ashley said "hey mom, lets get a picture with a cow!" What a doof! Then, and this is how you will know she is bipolar, i turn around and see some of those cool rolled hay bails, you know, the ones that are taller than you are?? I ask her to pose with that and she says "what do you think I am? a country girl??" She bounces around so much like that! Let me tell you. Well, here is an example of what we got today.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; This one was taken toward the setting sun so a very different look. Isn't my girl beautiful?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7890950380919345507-6707156482083118514?l=beingfreed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/feeds/6707156482083118514/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7890950380919345507&amp;postID=6707156482083118514' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/6707156482083118514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/6707156482083118514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/2008/10/time-with-my-daughter.html' title='Time with my Daughter'/><author><name>Angi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05691210867008688853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gvRzE9H2pMk/TgEicnQ84II/AAAAAAAAAKk/lkq_5WFztz4/s220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SPvDfoHyLHI/AAAAAAAAABg/LIAuUwuf7kw/s72-c/settingsun.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7890950380919345507.post-1349668350573348581</id><published>2008-10-19T09:34:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-19T09:37:18.870-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Blessed</title><content type='html'>how blessed is everyone who fears the Lord,&lt;br /&gt;who walks in His ways.&lt;br /&gt;when you shall eat of the fruit of your hands,&lt;br /&gt;you will be happy and it will be well with you.&lt;br /&gt;your wife shall be like a fruitful vine&lt;br /&gt;within your house.&lt;br /&gt;your children like olive plants&lt;br /&gt;around your table.&lt;br /&gt;behold, for thus shall the man be blessed&lt;br /&gt;who fears the Lord&lt;br /&gt;Psalm 128:1-4&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7890950380919345507-1349668350573348581?l=beingfreed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/feeds/1349668350573348581/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7890950380919345507&amp;postID=1349668350573348581' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/1349668350573348581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/1349668350573348581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/2008/10/blessed.html' title='Blessed'/><author><name>Angi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05691210867008688853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gvRzE9H2pMk/TgEicnQ84II/AAAAAAAAAKk/lkq_5WFztz4/s220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7890950380919345507.post-6820000642342395320</id><published>2008-10-19T09:24:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-19T09:29:42.362-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My Girl  - Senior Photo Time</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SPs2AiUTyLI/AAAAAAAAABY/Rlc0JG-iOo4/s1600-h/ashcloseup.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258856372725074098" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SPs2AiUTyLI/AAAAAAAAABY/Rlc0JG-iOo4/s320/ashcloseup.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SPs1dIJQ9BI/AAAAAAAAABQ/AFSz99w0as4/s1600-h/ashcar.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258855764404007954" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SPs1dIJQ9BI/AAAAAAAAABQ/AFSz99w0as4/s320/ashcar.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And my second sernior in as many years....Ashley. Here are a couple teasers. If you'd like to see the rest you have to go to wwww.flickr.com/photos/angelafreed . &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;But isn't she beautiful??? I still can't believe she's my girl even after 16 years. I know I don't deserve her. And when people stop the both of us and say how much we look alike, I say no way. She is a million times more beautiful!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7890950380919345507-6820000642342395320?l=beingfreed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/feeds/6820000642342395320/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7890950380919345507&amp;postID=6820000642342395320' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/6820000642342395320'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/6820000642342395320'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/2008/10/my-girl-senior-photo-time.html' title='My Girl  - Senior Photo Time'/><author><name>Angi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05691210867008688853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gvRzE9H2pMk/TgEicnQ84II/AAAAAAAAAKk/lkq_5WFztz4/s220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SPs2AiUTyLI/AAAAAAAAABY/Rlc0JG-iOo4/s72-c/ashcloseup.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7890950380919345507.post-4487043885993273509</id><published>2008-10-19T09:12:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-19T09:17:06.616-04:00</updated><title type='text'>sunday morning</title><content type='html'>Sunday mornings we get a taste of what it WILL be like. Brent and I don't sleep in much and are usually up hours before the kids.  All those years we begged THEM to sleep in while we were younger and could sleep in, they wouldn't do it. Now, Brent and I can't sleep in and the kids could sleep till lunch. What is that about??? So, Sunday mornings, becuase no one has to be anywhere, Brent and I bump around the house for a couple of hours before the kids have to get up and get ready. We have a quiet breakfast (this morning eggs and pancakes), watch TV, Brent likes the Waltons that he records, and I start laundry or do the dishes up.  And it's so quiet!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7890950380919345507-4487043885993273509?l=beingfreed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/feeds/4487043885993273509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7890950380919345507&amp;postID=4487043885993273509' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/4487043885993273509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/4487043885993273509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/2008/10/sunday-morning.html' title='sunday morning'/><author><name>Angi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05691210867008688853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gvRzE9H2pMk/TgEicnQ84II/AAAAAAAAAKk/lkq_5WFztz4/s220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7890950380919345507.post-8074176299725367212</id><published>2008-10-18T23:51:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-18T23:56:05.785-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Cousin Photo Shoot</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SPqu1v8jS8I/AAAAAAAAABI/aDzXP9q2Qdc/s1600-h/cousins.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258707753335212994" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SPqu1v8jS8I/AAAAAAAAABI/aDzXP9q2Qdc/s320/cousins.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We did our every other year cousin shoot the other day. This is one of the ones we got. Yeah, look at those teenaged boys of mine. They are having sooo much fun they can hardly stand it. This is how they looked in every one of them!  But the rest of them are cute. However, I think little W is in training to join his older boy cousins.  Either way, to continue the theme of this blog, this very probably is the last picture when they are all children and unmarried. We do it every two years so who knows where Grant will be in two years. I'm glad he's still here each morning let alone two years from now.  So, like I'm treasuring everything else, I'm treasuring this picture already thinking, yeah, this could be it. I might not be able to get him to the next shoot, who knows??? Plus Ashley will be all graduated by then too and off to college. It will be tough to do this again.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7890950380919345507-8074176299725367212?l=beingfreed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/feeds/8074176299725367212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7890950380919345507&amp;postID=8074176299725367212' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/8074176299725367212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/8074176299725367212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/2008/10/cousin-photo-shoot.html' title='Cousin Photo Shoot'/><author><name>Angi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05691210867008688853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gvRzE9H2pMk/TgEicnQ84II/AAAAAAAAAKk/lkq_5WFztz4/s220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a3QwzAdRnUk/SPqu1v8jS8I/AAAAAAAAABI/aDzXP9q2Qdc/s72-c/cousins.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7890950380919345507.post-4659596324360547128</id><published>2008-10-18T23:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-18T23:13:28.486-04:00</updated><title type='text'>and the beginning is more like the end that is a beginning</title><content type='html'>confused? yeah, i usually am too.  I'm beginning this new blog (and abandoning my old one) when it's practically the end of this season in my life. The season of my motherhood (the motherhood that you are mothering 24/7). But, that end will also bring a beginning. The beginning of my life with my hubby and I being together with no underage children we are responsible for. We are truely at a point where we're looking forward to this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I'm going to quickly.  Even though that new beginning is close, it's not here yet and don't get me wrong, i don't want to rush these last few years. I'm cherishing every moment. Eating up every hug and cuddle (however few they are getting to be - Grant). Living the most of every family moment, family game, family car ride, family vacation. Becuase I know how quickly it goes. I blinked the other day and my daughter was driving the car. Then I blinked again and Blake had a date!! What? Next thing I know I'll blink and Brent and I will be alone in the house, in the quiet, in the privateness.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I decided to abandon my old blog and start one where I'm concentrating on these last few precious years of "being freed" here at our home. I know i'm making it sound more dramatic that it is. I mean, they aren't disappearing off the face of the earth. But things are going to be different. They will have their own lives that center around themselves. Brent, and I, and our home will be on the outside orbiting, waiting for them to slow down so we can work in family time.  Family time won't just happen. Family time will have to be worked on and planned.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7890950380919345507-4659596324360547128?l=beingfreed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/feeds/4659596324360547128/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7890950380919345507&amp;postID=4659596324360547128' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/4659596324360547128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7890950380919345507/posts/default/4659596324360547128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beingfreed.blogspot.com/2008/10/and-beginning-is-more-like-end-that-is.html' title='and the beginning is more like the end that is a beginning'/><author><name>Angi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05691210867008688853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gvRzE9H2pMk/TgEicnQ84II/AAAAAAAAAKk/lkq_5WFztz4/s220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
