<?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-8609152358230427062</id><updated>2012-02-16T09:37:24.011-06:00</updated><category term='the beginning'/><category term='love'/><category term='faves'/><category term='Family'/><title type='text'>Happily Ever After</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tiffshappilyeverafter.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8609152358230427062/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tiffshappilyeverafter.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Tiff</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06006465184777834560</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEN33rs0dvQ/SRxqa1PqeII/AAAAAAAAAB8/jrToM6GPoJg/S220/blogself1.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>8</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8609152358230427062.post-6016406173198619778</id><published>2008-12-18T21:06:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-18T21:35:00.138-06:00</updated><title type='text'>You'll Shoot Your Eye Out!</title><content type='html'>So my sister and Kevin planned a fun-filled evening with James and I last week! THANK YOU GUYS--we really did have a lot of fun!  We went to see a "live" play of "The Christmas Story."  This happens to be their favorite movie and they really wanted to share the play experience with James--we all were very impressed with this grown-up date we had planned.  So, we all dressed up and made a night of it! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;James was quiet as a mouse through the ENTIRE first part!  He watched all the kids in the play and didn't miss a single thing...he was just soaking it ALL in.  After "half-time" as James called it there was more!  He intently watched the entire 2nd half as well!  We were so happy (and I was relieved) that he had so much fun and acted so well-behaved.  He really did watch all of it...we know this because when Saturday morning came he re-enacted it!  Mostly just the "you'll shoot your eye out" part as he fake hit himself in the eye and fell on the floor.  Over and over again.  I thought how cute that he remembers part of the play.   :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A week later he gets a Nerf type plane launcher--guess what he did?  He said, "I'm gonna shoot my eye out!" and he launched that plane right into his own eye!  Ouch!  Luckily no bruising or anything.  Sara happened to be on the phone when this happened...or she may not have believed me!  She did say that the play was supposed to have the opposite effect and that he was supposed to learn NOT to shoot his eye out, ha...ha! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, yesterday I'm out with a friend of mine and he yells "I gotta gooo Wee Wee!"  OMG I about died laughing and had to explain to my friend the whole thing.  Of course, we called Auntie right away and left this on her voicemail.  So, note to self...remember to take Sara's kids to "The Christmas Story!"   If you have any warnings on other almost grown-up things that should have warning labels...please let me know!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8609152358230427062-6016406173198619778?l=tiffshappilyeverafter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tiffshappilyeverafter.blogspot.com/feeds/6016406173198619778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8609152358230427062&amp;postID=6016406173198619778' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8609152358230427062/posts/default/6016406173198619778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8609152358230427062/posts/default/6016406173198619778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tiffshappilyeverafter.blogspot.com/2008/12/youll-shoot-your-eye-out.html' title='You&apos;ll Shoot Your Eye Out!'/><author><name>Tiff</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06006465184777834560</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEN33rs0dvQ/SRxqa1PqeII/AAAAAAAAAB8/jrToM6GPoJg/S220/blogself1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8609152358230427062.post-7433178418507681236</id><published>2008-12-07T22:07:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-07T23:00:59.543-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><title type='text'>Holiday Buzz</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I absolutely LOVE the holidays! I love eating, laughing, spending time with family and friends and mostly just watching my son experience things for the first time! At 3 he thinks he is so grown up and I honestly believe that in &lt;em&gt;his &lt;/em&gt;mind &lt;em&gt;he is&lt;/em&gt;!  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;His daddy always tells him to "Take Care of Mamma" anytime that he leaves. The neatest thing about this is that James does "take care of Mamma." It's adorable to see him automatically try to fill his "grown up" role as he tries to open the doors for me, makes sure I'm okay if I sneeze or becomes concerned if I'm coughing. These are the little things that give me massive amounts of encouragement and strength especially &lt;em&gt;this holiday season&lt;/em&gt;. God knew what He was doing when he blessed me with my son.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was the first Thanksgiving in 9 years that my husband didn't join us for Turkey Dinner with my family. I was sad to leave him behind, but I knew that doing so would somehow help me move forward. Of course all of the food was amazing and I'm positive I consumed more than my share, but this year at our annual gathering I noticed more than ever the "dynamics" of my local family...my mom, grandma, (late great-grandma and late great-great-grandma) are widowed---none remarried; my aunt, sister, cousin and soon to be me are all divorced; my youngest cousin isn't married yet and my oldest cousin is very happily married with two beatiful girls.  All of this stood out to me more than ever!  This was my &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"ah-hah"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; moment that gave me the determination to decide that I &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;will &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;choose to make decisions that will help me live my dream of a happy home which includes being &amp;amp; having a loving spouse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just spending time with my family made me feel loved and warmed my soul.  James had so much fun playing "tea" with his "Nana" and cousins (Ellee &amp;amp; Preslee). The girls eventually dressed up as Disney Princesses and James refused to wear a dress (I was proud of him--he really is ALL boy!). They also played chase around and around and around the kitchen/living room over and over again. These are the small almost unnoticeable moments that make my life "Happily Ever After."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Thanksgiving 2008: Preslee, Ellee &amp;amp; James&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277275274004361234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEN33rs0dvQ/STyl5sj7cBI/AAAAAAAAAC0/0moQZe1jhEQ/s320/Thanksgiving2008.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8609152358230427062-7433178418507681236?l=tiffshappilyeverafter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tiffshappilyeverafter.blogspot.com/feeds/7433178418507681236/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8609152358230427062&amp;postID=7433178418507681236' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8609152358230427062/posts/default/7433178418507681236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8609152358230427062/posts/default/7433178418507681236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tiffshappilyeverafter.blogspot.com/2008/12/holiday-buzz.html' title='Holiday Buzz'/><author><name>Tiff</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06006465184777834560</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEN33rs0dvQ/SRxqa1PqeII/AAAAAAAAAB8/jrToM6GPoJg/S220/blogself1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEN33rs0dvQ/STyl5sj7cBI/AAAAAAAAAC0/0moQZe1jhEQ/s72-c/Thanksgiving2008.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8609152358230427062.post-557870711581128427</id><published>2008-11-17T21:18:00.009-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-17T21:55:04.368-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='faves'/><title type='text'>Add these to my faves...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Friday was supposed to a football game with James &amp;amp; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Gma&lt;/span&gt;, but we decided it was too cold and opted for dinner only. James scarfed down everything Sara was eating! It was quite cute to watch him look up to his Auntie with his adorable little smile and snatch a piece of food right off whatever bite she was about to take!?! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Now this is amazing for two reasons: 1) James NEVER eats anything! and 2) Sara would normally &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;gnaw&lt;/span&gt; your fingers off for even attempting to snatch food out of her hand. ;) Love ya, sis! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I dropped James off at home and spent a fun &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gEN33rs0dvQ/SSI3-04tUtI/AAAAAAAAACs/-zfoFwD0q4E/s1600-h/THE_Lemon_Drop_Martini%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269836066464813778" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 266px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 166px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gEN33rs0dvQ/SSI3-04tUtI/AAAAAAAAACs/-zfoFwD0q4E/s320/THE_Lemon_Drop_Martini%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;night at my sister's! It's interesting how fun cards can be after a few "Lemon Drop Martini's!" WARNING: I'm not responsible for any cheating if I've been drinking...shhhhhh....don't tell anyone! (; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you EVER want to know how to make a FABULOUS martini...check this out!  &lt;a href="http://themartinidiva.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://themartinidiva.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Saturday it was time for a relaxing Starbucks, our infamous breakfast at "Sara's" and the new Madagascar movie. It was a fun movie...but it wasn't Wall-E so he made up excuses like I have to go potty or I'm hungry so he could get out and walk around....too smart that '&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;lil&lt;/span&gt; guy!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Sunday was an introduction to a new church...James had a great time and kept calling it "my church, my church" ...um...yes, we plan to go back next Sunday. A little electric guitar jam session on a Sunday morning never hurt anyone, right? Oh and the Cowboys won! All in all...no complaints! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;One day at a time...I can do this. Thank you all for your love and support!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8609152358230427062-557870711581128427?l=tiffshappilyeverafter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tiffshappilyeverafter.blogspot.com/feeds/557870711581128427/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8609152358230427062&amp;postID=557870711581128427' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8609152358230427062/posts/default/557870711581128427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8609152358230427062/posts/default/557870711581128427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tiffshappilyeverafter.blogspot.com/2008/11/add-these-to-my-faves.html' title='Add these to my faves...'/><author><name>Tiff</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06006465184777834560</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEN33rs0dvQ/SRxqa1PqeII/AAAAAAAAAB8/jrToM6GPoJg/S220/blogself1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gEN33rs0dvQ/SSI3-04tUtI/AAAAAAAAACs/-zfoFwD0q4E/s72-c/THE_Lemon_Drop_Martini%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8609152358230427062.post-1856187931125557007</id><published>2008-11-13T22:24:00.009-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T23:10:53.339-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the beginning'/><title type='text'>Simply the Facts or TMI</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;So I'm one of "those" people that truly believes everything does happen for a reason. I may not like it or accept it at first, but after my smart a** remarks, venting and finally reasoning I can see the good in things most of the time. This happens to be one of those times. I posted the "How We Met" blog earlier today to set the mood for happiness. Because, this is one of those times that I need to trust my instincts and truly believe that "everything does happen for a reason." Today, followed one of the most difficult days of my life. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Remember that record scratching sound...eerrrrr--like everything comes screeching to a halt...that was my life on July 16th when my Prince of a Husband who I so much love and adore said the most painful words that will forever be etched into my mind... "I want a divorce." Even as I write this almost four months later it still brings tears to my eyes and feelings come rushing back. That was THE day my little blip of a world crashed in on me and everything as I knew it ceased to be what I thought it was. My perspective on everything changed and I cried and cried and cried for 9 weeks straight. At some point with some strong encouragement from my best friend (my sis) I came to my senses and went to the Dr....and I got all fixed up with some medications that helped me get to this place I am in now. This is my happy place where I can mention the word &lt;em&gt;divorce&lt;/em&gt; and not burst into tears. It's been the most difficult situation I've ever had to manage through, but you know what I AM managing through it and I will be okay.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;The saddest part is...there's no punch line...no rest of the story...no cheating...no drama...just a I don't love you anymore, you're mean and I don't feel like you love me. No options...just divorce. I was so shocked. This isn't happening to me...divorce has never been an option, and this is the man I love and fell in love with and brag about all the time. My life seemed a blur and nothing made sense except for my beautiful baby boy. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Oh yes, back to the story...yesterday was my husband and I's first counseling appointment...he agreed to go because I wouldn't give up...well it was basically just the clarifying moment that he was serious...divorce was the only option. My counselor assured me that sometimes people just can't give what they don't have no matter how much we want them to. Okay, I can accept that. She also told us that we haven't heard each other because I have Generalized Anxiety Disorder...what? This was a new term for me...I had never hear of it before and had no idea what she was talking about. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;After HB left and I continued to talk with my counselor she proceeded to name everything about me it was like she had been a little fly on the wall my whole life. She asked me a few questions, gave me a few scenarios and asked how I felt in those situations and I replied unknowingly giving almost every symptom of GAD. The good news is it can be treated and I don't feel like I'm "on edge" all the time...which I've pretty much felt like all my life. I can sleep at night without my mind racing about everything...I don't obsessively worry as much and I'm learning to control my breathing and thoughts. The main thing she tried to get across is that my actions/reactions to my Husband were NOT a direct reflection on him or how I felt about him...it was me being anxious and worrying and trying to keep my little world "safe." I was so relieved to know that I wasn't crazy and now that I've been on medicine I don't know how I ever lived without it. I never knew you could fall asleep without racing thoughts!?! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;I'll keep you updated as I work through this process. My hope in "telling all" is that it may help someone else. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gEN33rs0dvQ/SR0HNqmJJfI/AAAAAAAAACU/23-_t5AmDMc/s1600-h/myhappilyeverafter.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268375070447314418" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 198px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gEN33rs0dvQ/SR0HNqmJJfI/AAAAAAAAACU/23-_t5AmDMc/s320/myhappilyeverafter.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;My baby boy is what got and still does get me through my days, nights, sadness, he is who made me suck it up and get through each day one day at a time. He is my "Everything Happens for a Reason." Thank God for Little Boys and I thank God everyday for blessing my life with my 3 year old son. So even through all the storm...&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;He is and will always be "&lt;em&gt;MY HAPPILY EVER AFTER&lt;/em&gt;."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8609152358230427062-1856187931125557007?l=tiffshappilyeverafter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tiffshappilyeverafter.blogspot.com/feeds/1856187931125557007/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8609152358230427062&amp;postID=1856187931125557007' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8609152358230427062/posts/default/1856187931125557007'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8609152358230427062/posts/default/1856187931125557007'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tiffshappilyeverafter.blogspot.com/2008/11/simply-facts-or-tmi.html' title='Simply the Facts or TMI'/><author><name>Tiff</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06006465184777834560</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEN33rs0dvQ/SRxqa1PqeII/AAAAAAAAAB8/jrToM6GPoJg/S220/blogself1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gEN33rs0dvQ/SR0HNqmJJfI/AAAAAAAAACU/23-_t5AmDMc/s72-c/myhappilyeverafter.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8609152358230427062.post-3338272027260038902</id><published>2008-11-13T12:27:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T12:45:21.366-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>How We Met</title><content type='html'>It was August of 1999, I was 25--he was 40, so big deal I can handle this, right?!  My student (his 16 yr. old son) was in my class and invited his "Dad" to be a guest speaker for my Law class.  He had many facets of experience in this field...former Force Recon Marine, Police Officer, Bodyguard--perfect topics for my class!  So here he came in his &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;hounds tooth&lt;/span&gt; jacket and buff body, so professional and something about him just drew me in.  He asked me out and we went on a date to the zoo and spent every waking (and sleeping) moment together we could after that.  It was like a Fairy Tale--love at first sight...no really...I was smitten and knew I would love this man forever.  He was intelligent, funny, fair, a gentlemen and it didn't take long for me to earn the title of Princess and he was my Le Guardian &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;de&lt;/span&gt; la Princess (we eventually even had these words engraved in our wedding bands.)  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Awwww&lt;/span&gt; the embrace of new love...I can recall those feelings just like it was yesterday.  I'm just going to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;reminiscence&lt;/span&gt; in those memories for a little while...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8609152358230427062-3338272027260038902?l=tiffshappilyeverafter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tiffshappilyeverafter.blogspot.com/feeds/3338272027260038902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8609152358230427062&amp;postID=3338272027260038902' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8609152358230427062/posts/default/3338272027260038902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8609152358230427062/posts/default/3338272027260038902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tiffshappilyeverafter.blogspot.com/2008/11/how-we-met.html' title='How We Met'/><author><name>Tiff</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06006465184777834560</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEN33rs0dvQ/SRxqa1PqeII/AAAAAAAAAB8/jrToM6GPoJg/S220/blogself1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8609152358230427062.post-7900592145154975890</id><published>2008-07-27T17:01:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-27T17:18:09.491-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I promise to get better!</title><content type='html'>So, I've been gone for &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;most&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; of the summer and I do intend to update my blog soon! Even with all my traveling, I've still been working--writing curriculum and now I've been doing the 8-5 thing for 2 weeks assessing for National Board...ugh! Can't wait for summer to end so I can go back to only one job! Don't give up on me just yet. :) "It's 100 degrees outside..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227820398387976802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gEN33rs0dvQ/SIzy9EN02mI/AAAAAAAAABs/oC4HmNNhxFE/s320/This+is+why+im+hot.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Found this at &lt;a href="http://www.cafepress.com/islandvintage"&gt;http://www.cafepress.com/islandvintage&lt;/a&gt; Some really cute stuff! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8609152358230427062-7900592145154975890?l=tiffshappilyeverafter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tiffshappilyeverafter.blogspot.com/feeds/7900592145154975890/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8609152358230427062&amp;postID=7900592145154975890' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8609152358230427062/posts/default/7900592145154975890'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8609152358230427062/posts/default/7900592145154975890'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tiffshappilyeverafter.blogspot.com/2008/07/i-promise-to-get-better.html' title='I promise to get better!'/><author><name>Tiff</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06006465184777834560</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEN33rs0dvQ/SRxqa1PqeII/AAAAAAAAAB8/jrToM6GPoJg/S220/blogself1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gEN33rs0dvQ/SIzy9EN02mI/AAAAAAAAABs/oC4HmNNhxFE/s72-c/This+is+why+im+hot.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8609152358230427062.post-3971810720129098696</id><published>2008-06-24T15:24:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-24T16:16:03.582-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Trendy or Trashy?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I grew up in one of the most conservative households known to man and even I wear thong panties! Honestly, I just thought everyone did?! Recently during a lunchtime conversation with the girls at work they were talking about how appalling it was that the students undies peek out above their jeans from time to time. Now let me clarify...high school is the last place we should see undies! I totally agree with that. However, the girls continued on that they didn't understand how anyone could wear a pair of those "thongs" anyway. Don't forget my girls at work are a few years older than me.  They went on and on about how uncomfortable they must be, who would even buy those, they seemed kind of trashy, etc, etc. Well, of course, I just quickly withdrew from the conversation and became an innocent listener pretending to understand their theories. After all that I couldn't bring myself to say anything in defense of my ever-favorite thong panties.  I love my thongs!  They have so many great benefits including never showing a panty line!  Not to mention the fact that my husband adores the "cheeky" view! I mean ever since I tried my first thongs as a young teen I've never looked back!  I've really always thought that thongs are one of &lt;em&gt;the greatest fashion inventions&lt;/em&gt;.  Don't worry I do venture out every now and then testing out the low rise hip huggers and such, but I always go back to my trusty, trendy thongs.  So, girls what are your thoughts?  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8609152358230427062-3971810720129098696?l=tiffshappilyeverafter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tiffshappilyeverafter.blogspot.com/feeds/3971810720129098696/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8609152358230427062&amp;postID=3971810720129098696' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8609152358230427062/posts/default/3971810720129098696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8609152358230427062/posts/default/3971810720129098696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tiffshappilyeverafter.blogspot.com/2008/06/trendy-or-trashy.html' title='Trendy or Trashy?'/><author><name>Tiff</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06006465184777834560</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEN33rs0dvQ/SRxqa1PqeII/AAAAAAAAAB8/jrToM6GPoJg/S220/blogself1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8609152358230427062.post-2738505791983685364</id><published>2008-06-12T23:53:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-13T01:30:02.698-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Quirky, Slim &amp; Cigarettes, Oh My!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Sunday is quickly approaching and it's time to notice the little things in life that I so adore about my husband! Most importantly (keeping with the theme) he is truly a wonderful father. I'm so comforted knowing that my son is growing up in a home of love and mutual respect. So, I would like to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;publicly&lt;/span&gt; say, "Husband, thank you for being the strong, supportive, loving man that you are. I am proud to be your wife." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Father's Day is always a tough holiday for me to actually "celebrate" since my "Dad" has been gone for most of my adult life; however, this year I'm keeping it positive by sharing a few of my favorite or just quirky "Dad" memories...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gEN33rs0dvQ/SFIPUcGcbAI/AAAAAAAAABM/nj9DYFs2mCM/s1600-h/slimw.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211244562636106754" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 180px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 182px" height="166" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gEN33rs0dvQ/SFIPUcGcbAI/AAAAAAAAABM/nj9DYFs2mCM/s320/slimw.jpg" width="151" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Hearing him sing, "You've got to know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em, know when to walk away, know when to run, you never count your money when you're &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;sittin&lt;/span&gt;' at the table..." (can you guess who sings that?) or he would sing just anything by Slim Whitman. Yes, I think we (my brothers &amp;amp; sister) all could sing along! Oh, how embarrassed we would get when he would sing in public--he really had a terrible voice--&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;but I would give anything to hear it again now. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;He had an amazing vocabulary and an almost photographic memory--he remembered everything he read and could answer anything we ever asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gEN33rs0dvQ/SFIP8C5s2RI/AAAAAAAAABU/IBGdmrbnMzA/s1600-h/candy-cigarettes1.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211245243066538258" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 236px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 144px" height="181" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gEN33rs0dvQ/SFIP8C5s2RI/AAAAAAAAABU/IBGdmrbnMzA/s320/candy-cigarettes1.jpg" width="216" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;He would always bring us home a "surprise" after he had been away. It was usually just lipstick candies, candy cigarettes (anyone remember those?!), giant jawbreakers and such. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;He would ask us for "change" and trade us dollar bills--somehow we always ended up with more money than we had started with. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;He bought me a 3 speed bike at a garage sale and it was blue, my favorite color. He was so very proud of his purchase that he had to wax it so that it would be fit for his "Princess" (I know hard to believe, that's me!) Well, being the manly Dad that he was, he waxed my bicycle with his buffer that was powered by his 6' tall air compressor and yep, you got it...that crazy spinning tool just got caught in the brake cords and the cords went flying everywhere! I was crying, he was promising to fix it--&lt;strong&gt;oh, the drama!&lt;/strong&gt; Of course, he "fixed" it...&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;umm&lt;/span&gt;, yeah, my brakes &lt;em&gt;never &lt;/em&gt;worked right, but damn I had the cleanest &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;bicycle&lt;/span&gt; on the block. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gEN33rs0dvQ/SFIQR0XLVOI/AAAAAAAAABc/62Fxgcw2jck/s1600-h/falling+rock.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211245617120761058" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gEN33rs0dvQ/SFIQR0XLVOI/AAAAAAAAABc/62Fxgcw2jck/s320/falling+rock.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;How he told the Legend of "Falling Rock" on long road trips to Canada. He was an amazing story-teller. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;How he loved to throw pool parties and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;BBQ's&lt;/span&gt;...always inviting tons of people over so he could proudly feed them all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Okay, so kind of mushy for my first post! But, why not celebrate the happily ever after moments that make our lives just that? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;So, it's your turn...What are your favorite "Dad" memories?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8609152358230427062-2738505791983685364?l=tiffshappilyeverafter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tiffshappilyeverafter.blogspot.com/feeds/2738505791983685364/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8609152358230427062&amp;postID=2738505791983685364' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8609152358230427062/posts/default/2738505791983685364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8609152358230427062/posts/default/2738505791983685364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tiffshappilyeverafter.blogspot.com/2008/06/quirky-slim-cigarettes-oh-my.html' title='Quirky, Slim &amp; Cigarettes, Oh My!'/><author><name>Tiff</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06006465184777834560</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gEN33rs0dvQ/SRxqa1PqeII/AAAAAAAAAB8/jrToM6GPoJg/S220/blogself1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gEN33rs0dvQ/SFIPUcGcbAI/AAAAAAAAABM/nj9DYFs2mCM/s72-c/slimw.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
