<?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-2359910297917076218</id><updated>2012-02-16T00:09:46.902-08:00</updated><category term='mom'/><category term='Thanksgiving'/><category term='grief'/><title type='text'>Expressions</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rdk-expressions.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2359910297917076218/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rdk-expressions.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>ReneK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15646983754835025613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fgvucTfcy-U/SkTnGYUwTjI/AAAAAAAAAAM/x5vz1-44So8/S220/Doug+and+Rene.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>14</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2359910297917076218.post-1465405621080183581</id><published>2011-08-03T16:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-03T16:39:08.605-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sad Expressions</title><content type='html'>Today was a hard day.&amp;nbsp; I attended a funeral for a colleague.&amp;nbsp; She was young (44) and leaves behind two sons and a devoted husband.&amp;nbsp; Needless to say, I was keenly aware of her children's pain as I face that with my boys every day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rest in peace, Julia.&amp;nbsp; I'm honored to have known you.&amp;nbsp; And I will continue to keep Rad and the boys in my prayers.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2359910297917076218-1465405621080183581?l=rdk-expressions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rdk-expressions.blogspot.com/feeds/1465405621080183581/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rdk-expressions.blogspot.com/2011/08/sad-expressions.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2359910297917076218/posts/default/1465405621080183581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2359910297917076218/posts/default/1465405621080183581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rdk-expressions.blogspot.com/2011/08/sad-expressions.html' title='Sad Expressions'/><author><name>ReneK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15646983754835025613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fgvucTfcy-U/SkTnGYUwTjI/AAAAAAAAAAM/x5vz1-44So8/S220/Doug+and+Rene.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2359910297917076218.post-8026644666540556293</id><published>2011-06-28T13:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-28T13:57:37.207-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What a difference a year makes</title><content type='html'>I just re-read the few blogs I've written in the past year.&amp;nbsp; Didn't write much.&amp;nbsp; need to get better about that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, one of the few I wrote was in June -- because June is a bad month for me.&amp;nbsp; And now it's much worse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe I haven't written about what has happened the past few months.&amp;nbsp; Maybe writing makes it too real.&amp;nbsp; On April 15 of this year, I got a phone call from my ex-husband's mom.&amp;nbsp; My youngest son, J, was supposed to leave for Texas the next day for his annual spring break visit with his dad.&amp;nbsp; Bob's mom called to tell me that Bob was in the hospital and that I shouldn't send J.&amp;nbsp; They thought he had a stroke.&amp;nbsp; So, I cancelled J's trip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My youngest stepdaughter, Linda, left that night for Texas (from Louisiana).&amp;nbsp; By Sunday, the hospital was saying that it was prescription drug withdrawal and sent him home.&amp;nbsp; At that point, we decided to send my oldest son, C.&amp;nbsp; He flew into Texas Thursday morning.&amp;nbsp; Linda left the next day.&amp;nbsp; C and I talked daily.&amp;nbsp; His dad was not doing very well -- hallucinating, not knowing where he was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still, I expected things to get better.&amp;nbsp; They didn't.&amp;nbsp; C was supposed to come home the following Monday.&amp;nbsp; That morning at 530am, he called me and said he was taking his dad to the hospital.&amp;nbsp; A half hour later, Linda called saying the hospital had called her and said that Bob had a heart attack and was in critical condition.&amp;nbsp; At 7am,&amp;nbsp; C called me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His dad was gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How can that be?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two months later, I'm still numb.&amp;nbsp; And pissed off.&amp;nbsp; And sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to write more about the whole "trip to Texas" experience.&amp;nbsp; But not now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was talking about June.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boys always went to visit their dad in June.&amp;nbsp; Because Fathers day is in June.&amp;nbsp; And Bob's birthday is June 23.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, it has been a rough few weeks.&amp;nbsp; And, of course, today is the anniversary of my mom's death.&amp;nbsp; 25 years.&amp;nbsp; Feels like yesterday.&amp;nbsp; That hole inside of me is still there.&amp;nbsp; And now my boys have holes too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;June sucks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2359910297917076218-8026644666540556293?l=rdk-expressions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rdk-expressions.blogspot.com/feeds/8026644666540556293/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rdk-expressions.blogspot.com/2011/06/what-difference-year-makes.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2359910297917076218/posts/default/8026644666540556293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2359910297917076218/posts/default/8026644666540556293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rdk-expressions.blogspot.com/2011/06/what-difference-year-makes.html' title='What a difference a year makes'/><author><name>ReneK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15646983754835025613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fgvucTfcy-U/SkTnGYUwTjI/AAAAAAAAAAM/x5vz1-44So8/S220/Doug+and+Rene.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2359910297917076218.post-8037471666706506485</id><published>2011-01-10T15:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-10T15:54:21.830-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thankful Expressions</title><content type='html'>Thank you.&amp;nbsp; To my husband.&amp;nbsp; To my children.&amp;nbsp; To God.&amp;nbsp; To my friends.&amp;nbsp; To my mom and grandma.&amp;nbsp; To my spirit guides.&amp;nbsp; To the angels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will never be able to show enough gratitude.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2359910297917076218-8037471666706506485?l=rdk-expressions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rdk-expressions.blogspot.com/feeds/8037471666706506485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rdk-expressions.blogspot.com/2011/01/thankful-expressions.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2359910297917076218/posts/default/8037471666706506485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2359910297917076218/posts/default/8037471666706506485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rdk-expressions.blogspot.com/2011/01/thankful-expressions.html' title='Thankful Expressions'/><author><name>ReneK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15646983754835025613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fgvucTfcy-U/SkTnGYUwTjI/AAAAAAAAAAM/x5vz1-44So8/S220/Doug+and+Rene.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2359910297917076218.post-7790704008945483929</id><published>2011-01-02T10:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-02T10:53:25.340-08:00</updated><title type='text'>New Year Expressions</title><content type='html'>2010&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;was a tough year for us.&amp;nbsp; As my oldest son approached the big 18th birthday, we struggled.&amp;nbsp; He struggled to become an adult.&amp;nbsp; I stuggled to let him become an adult.&amp;nbsp; How could I be his mom and let him grow when all I want to do is protect him.&amp;nbsp; He reached that milestone on the day after Christmas.&amp;nbsp; I look at him and see a 6 week old baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And my youngest son is approaching his 13th birthday.&amp;nbsp; He's gaining a lot of independence.&amp;nbsp; He seems to have conquered middle school with no problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over the past few weeks, as I've been struggling to figure out what my role is supposed to be in their lives, I've realized that I haven't spent enough time praying...and trusting God to handle things.&amp;nbsp; I've gotten better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day I was watching television (CSI Miami, believe it or not) and heard a prayer that is exactly what I need.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Angels of God&lt;br /&gt;From Heaven so bright,&lt;br /&gt;Watch over my children &lt;br /&gt;And guide them a-right.&lt;br /&gt;Fold your wings round them&lt;br /&gt;And guard them with love.&lt;br /&gt;Sing to them softly&lt;br /&gt;From Heaven above.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't have it memorized yet...but I will...and it's going to become my mantra and my focus.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2359910297917076218-7790704008945483929?l=rdk-expressions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rdk-expressions.blogspot.com/feeds/7790704008945483929/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rdk-expressions.blogspot.com/2011/01/new-year-expressions.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2359910297917076218/posts/default/7790704008945483929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2359910297917076218/posts/default/7790704008945483929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rdk-expressions.blogspot.com/2011/01/new-year-expressions.html' title='New Year Expressions'/><author><name>ReneK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15646983754835025613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fgvucTfcy-U/SkTnGYUwTjI/AAAAAAAAAAM/x5vz1-44So8/S220/Doug+and+Rene.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2359910297917076218.post-5697092589090022305</id><published>2010-11-15T08:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-15T08:21:18.828-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mom'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grief'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Thanksgiving'/><title type='text'>Dear Mom</title><content type='html'>Dear Mom,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been a long time since I wrote you a  letter.&amp;nbsp; Not that it's been long since I talked to you -- seems like I  do that every day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of all of the days/times of the year,  Thanksgiving is the hardest.&amp;nbsp; It always has been.&amp;nbsp; You loved  Thanksgiving so much and that love definitely rubbed off on me.&amp;nbsp; I want  to take care of everybody.&amp;nbsp; Every year I go searching through your old  rusted recipe box.&amp;nbsp; And every year I find your Thanksgiving menu.&amp;nbsp; I  know it by heart.&amp;nbsp; But every year I sit and stare at it for an hour and  hear your voice and hear the sounds of you feverishly cooking.&amp;nbsp; And  every year I wish you were here so you could sit back, relax and watch  me do all of the things you always did.&amp;nbsp; I miss you so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The  boys are scattered all over the US.&amp;nbsp; Ric is too busy to visit.&amp;nbsp; Bobby  can't.&amp;nbsp; Stephen can't afford to.&amp;nbsp; Then, of course, there's Dad.&amp;nbsp; I can't  bring him here.&amp;nbsp; And the idea of going there terrifies me.&amp;nbsp; There's  very little I wouldn't give to have any of them close to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And  not to belittle our relationship with Doug's family.&amp;nbsp; They are  awesome.&amp;nbsp; And we are very much part of that family.&amp;nbsp; We love them and  they love us.&amp;nbsp; It's very much like Grandma and Grandpa Bell.&amp;nbsp; But that  can't and shouldn't replace us -you and Dad and Bobby and Del and  Stephen and me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look at my own little family and I know  that we have the solid type of family relationship that I had growing  up.&amp;nbsp; I know that my boys have that in their hearts and souls.&amp;nbsp; But we're  at that really scary part -- the part where they're growing up and will  have their own lives apart from us before too long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom, I  wish you were here.&amp;nbsp; I wish you could sit with me and we could talk  about everything -- what it feels like to have a child on the brink of  adulthood, how to juggle two full time jobs and do them both justice,  the best way to make pumpkin pie....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes my need to  have "my family" close by is almost palpable.&amp;nbsp; Sometimes it threatens to  immobilize me.&amp;nbsp; I wake up not really sure how to proceed.&amp;nbsp; But then I  hear Doug's voice or Chris' or Jesse's and I know where I am and what  I'm doing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our Thanksgiving will be awesome this year.&amp;nbsp;  I'm doing the whole "mom to the world" thing -- just like you liked to  do.&amp;nbsp; I'm organizing a Thanksgiving potluck for my office that will make  100 or so people smile.&amp;nbsp; We're having pie night with some good friends  of ours (I love making pies but always use Pillsbury ready made  crusts!).&amp;nbsp; Then on the Sunday before Thanksgiving, we're having two  families that are dear friends of ours over for a pre-Thanksgiving  dinner -- turkey, dressing and all the fixings....almost the exact same  menu as yours that's in the recipe box.&amp;nbsp; And then, on Thanksgiving day,  we'll be with our Knaphus family.&amp;nbsp; (And that is a very, very good  thing.&amp;nbsp; It is very much like our Thanksgivings).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been  a really hard year in many different ways.&amp;nbsp; There have been so many  days/nights that I've wished you were here.&amp;nbsp; But every time I start  missing you too much, I hear Chris' five-year-old voice as we're driving  through the Abilene countryside&amp;nbsp; "Mom, look!&amp;nbsp; There's your mom!&amp;nbsp; She's  an angel!".&amp;nbsp; And I know you're always with us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Thanksgiving, mama.&amp;nbsp; I love you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your daughter always,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fgvucTfcy-U/TOFd1ePFt9I/AAAAAAAAAC8/GDuTuo0IrN4/s1600/mom_rene.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fgvucTfcy-U/TOFd1ePFt9I/AAAAAAAAAC8/GDuTuo0IrN4/s320/mom_rene.jpg" width="255" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Rene'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2359910297917076218-5697092589090022305?l=rdk-expressions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rdk-expressions.blogspot.com/feeds/5697092589090022305/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rdk-expressions.blogspot.com/2010/11/dear-mom.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2359910297917076218/posts/default/5697092589090022305'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2359910297917076218/posts/default/5697092589090022305'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rdk-expressions.blogspot.com/2010/11/dear-mom.html' title='Dear Mom'/><author><name>ReneK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15646983754835025613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fgvucTfcy-U/SkTnGYUwTjI/AAAAAAAAAAM/x5vz1-44So8/S220/Doug+and+Rene.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fgvucTfcy-U/TOFd1ePFt9I/AAAAAAAAAC8/GDuTuo0IrN4/s72-c/mom_rene.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2359910297917076218.post-3380791570365088598</id><published>2010-11-01T07:39:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-01T07:39:48.301-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Jumbled Expressions</title><content type='html'>I have sorely neglected this blog....probably out of fear of writing and admitting to an anonymous world what my family has been going through.&amp;nbsp; But we are strong.&amp;nbsp; And we love each other.&amp;nbsp; Perhaps later I will share.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2359910297917076218-3380791570365088598?l=rdk-expressions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rdk-expressions.blogspot.com/feeds/3380791570365088598/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rdk-expressions.blogspot.com/2010/11/jumbled-expressions.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2359910297917076218/posts/default/3380791570365088598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2359910297917076218/posts/default/3380791570365088598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rdk-expressions.blogspot.com/2010/11/jumbled-expressions.html' title='Jumbled Expressions'/><author><name>ReneK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15646983754835025613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fgvucTfcy-U/SkTnGYUwTjI/AAAAAAAAAAM/x5vz1-44So8/S220/Doug+and+Rene.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2359910297917076218.post-1164672774320142838</id><published>2010-07-07T08:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-07T08:27:26.010-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sleepless in Sandy Expressions</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Expressions.&amp;nbsp; The name of my blog.&amp;nbsp; The reason I have a blog.&amp;nbsp; I need to be able to write things down.&amp;nbsp; To express.&amp;nbsp; And, yes, to vent.&amp;nbsp; The problem with "letting it all out" is that you don't know who is reading.&amp;nbsp; My husband?&amp;nbsp; My kids?&amp;nbsp; My employers?&amp;nbsp; Hmmn.&amp;nbsp; How can I be free to truly express myself?&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;Anyway, I feel the need to express.&amp;nbsp; Part of the problem is that I don't have any real friends here who I can call on the phone at any time and just let it all out.&amp;nbsp; And I don't want to constantly pester the one or two friends that I do have.&amp;nbsp; I also don't want to always vent to my brothers.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;So, what's up in my little corner of the world?&amp;nbsp; Well, last night was a rough one.&amp;nbsp; My DH and I don't fight.&amp;nbsp; Seriously.&amp;nbsp; We never fight.&amp;nbsp; We get irritated and annoyed but we don't yell or scream.&amp;nbsp; But tension does invade our space at times.&amp;nbsp; Last night was one of those nights.&amp;nbsp; And why did it happen?&amp;nbsp; I'm not 100 percent sure.&amp;nbsp; I know why I was tense and I'll get into that in a minute.&amp;nbsp; I have no idea what is going on with DH.&amp;nbsp; I made a comment about the air conditioner being set so low and WHAM!&amp;nbsp; He went into full defensive mode.&amp;nbsp; I actually wasn't "accusing" him of anything.&amp;nbsp; Our air conditioner seems to have a mind of it's own sometimes (seriously, it has this programming capability that thinks for itself!).&amp;nbsp; But DH decided I was attacking him for turning the air down.&amp;nbsp; Uh.&amp;nbsp; No.&amp;nbsp; I honestly don't care what it's set on.&amp;nbsp; He said he'd turned it down the night before because we were having guests and wanted to cool the house down.&amp;nbsp; Uh.&amp;nbsp; (again).&amp;nbsp; OK.&amp;nbsp; Weird because we had a very cool evening and had the house open, but OK.&amp;nbsp; I honestly didn't really care.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;That set off a night of tension and no sleep....which, of course, didn't help anything.&amp;nbsp; I lay in bed and tried to sleep.&amp;nbsp; I tried to think of someone I could call and talk to and came up blank.&amp;nbsp; (That makes me kind of sad.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Eventually, I feel into a restless sleep and woke up unsettled.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;The truth of the matter is that I was unsettled before the ominous air conditioner episode.&amp;nbsp; For some reason, demons chose last night to rear their ugly heads.&amp;nbsp; This particular demon was addiction.&amp;nbsp; Not mine.&amp;nbsp; But fear of addiction claiming someone close to me -- again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;I was born into a family of addictive personalities.&amp;nbsp; Somehow, I managed to escape that curse.&amp;nbsp; Like so many other things, I am different than the rest of my family.&amp;nbsp; I'm the only girl.&amp;nbsp; I'm the only brunette.&amp;nbsp; Etc.&amp;nbsp; Etc.&amp;nbsp; And I'm the only one who doesn't have an addictive personality.&amp;nbsp; I'm not sure why, but there's no doubt that it's true.&amp;nbsp; I have tried all those bad habits that people get addicted to (well, no, not all of them...but the common ones) and I have always been able to walk away.&amp;nbsp; I smoked a pack a cigarettes a day for a while (not a huge habit, but a habit) and one day just set them down and never smoked again.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I've gone through period where I drank quite a bit.&amp;nbsp; One day I'd realize that I was drinking too much and I'd just stop -- even with full bottles of alcohol in the house, I'd not have a drink for months.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;But, as I said, I'm the only member of my family that doesn't have the addictive personality.&amp;nbsp; every other member has, at one time or another, struggled with something.&amp;nbsp; And, for the most part, they have overcome their addictions.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night, I discovered one of the effects of growing up in that type of situation -- an almost overwhelming fear of addiction happening to someone that I love.&amp;nbsp; My kids.&amp;nbsp; My husband.&amp;nbsp; I don't voice this fear, however.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;I have talked to my kids about the hereditary nature of addictions.&amp;nbsp; I've cautioned them without trying to scare them.&amp;nbsp; They will make their own way and hopefully my guidance will help.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;But I can't share the fear with them.&amp;nbsp; Or with anyone else, really.&amp;nbsp; But I feel it.&amp;nbsp; I know that I'm ok.&amp;nbsp; That I can drink a glass of wine every night for a month and still be ok.&amp;nbsp; Because I've proven to myself that I can.&amp;nbsp; But I don't know that the people I love can do that.&amp;nbsp; And it haunts me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;My first memory of someone in the throes of addiction is from a period of time when I was seven-years-old.&amp;nbsp; My mom had left my dad.&amp;nbsp; Again.&amp;nbsp; It happened a number of times over the years.&amp;nbsp; I remember her coming home from somewhere and knowing something was wrong with her.&amp;nbsp; I had no idea what it was.&amp;nbsp; It was many years later when I found out that it was amphetamines.&amp;nbsp; That memory is burned into my brain.&amp;nbsp; And there are many more.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;So, where is this rambling leading.&amp;nbsp; Nowhere.&amp;nbsp; I just needed to write it down.&amp;nbsp; Perhaps to put the fear and memories into words gives them less power.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;And I know that, last night, when my DH got all wound up, he was probably feeding off of my unspoken, unexpressed fear.&amp;nbsp; I couldn't say anything.&amp;nbsp; He hadn't done anything wrong.&amp;nbsp; And my fear was/is totally unreasonable.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent the sleepless night telling myself that the fear was unreasonable.&amp;nbsp; Everything is fine.&amp;nbsp; And it really, really is fine.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt; But that demon always seems so close at hand. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2359910297917076218-1164672774320142838?l=rdk-expressions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rdk-expressions.blogspot.com/feeds/1164672774320142838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rdk-expressions.blogspot.com/2010/07/sleepless-in-sandy-expressions.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2359910297917076218/posts/default/1164672774320142838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2359910297917076218/posts/default/1164672774320142838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rdk-expressions.blogspot.com/2010/07/sleepless-in-sandy-expressions.html' title='Sleepless in Sandy Expressions'/><author><name>ReneK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15646983754835025613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fgvucTfcy-U/SkTnGYUwTjI/AAAAAAAAAAM/x5vz1-44So8/S220/Doug+and+Rene.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2359910297917076218.post-1690893762761297350</id><published>2010-06-21T16:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-21T16:02:52.455-07:00</updated><title type='text'>June Expressions</title><content type='html'>June isn't my favorite month.&amp;nbsp; My kids leave to go to their dad's for the summer.&amp;nbsp; It's the anniversary of my mom's death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ugh.&amp;nbsp; Two of my least favorite things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year, only J went to see his dad.&amp;nbsp; That was hard -- sending him away without his big brother to protect him.&amp;nbsp; It's been a few days and he seems to be doing pretty well.&amp;nbsp; That's always a relief.&amp;nbsp; Doug and I are doing OK, too, although we miss him.&amp;nbsp; Big brother, C, is having a tough time.&amp;nbsp; He misses his brother.&amp;nbsp; He misses his dad.&amp;nbsp; Fortunately, he's too busy to worry too much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for the other thing, June 26...i'm going to try to not think about it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2359910297917076218-1690893762761297350?l=rdk-expressions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rdk-expressions.blogspot.com/feeds/1690893762761297350/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rdk-expressions.blogspot.com/2010/06/june-expressions.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2359910297917076218/posts/default/1690893762761297350'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2359910297917076218/posts/default/1690893762761297350'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rdk-expressions.blogspot.com/2010/06/june-expressions.html' title='June Expressions'/><author><name>ReneK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15646983754835025613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fgvucTfcy-U/SkTnGYUwTjI/AAAAAAAAAAM/x5vz1-44So8/S220/Doug+and+Rene.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2359910297917076218.post-2810823865244475342</id><published>2010-05-05T12:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-05T12:15:20.927-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Anniversary Expressions</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fgvucTfcy-U/S-G_1i2jxuI/AAAAAAAAABc/x_fSvLzzwu0/s1600/IMG_1693.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fgvucTfcy-U/S-G_1i2jxuI/AAAAAAAAABc/x_fSvLzzwu0/s320/IMG_1693.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Today is my wedding anniversary.&amp;nbsp; I'm at work.&amp;nbsp; Doug is at work.&amp;nbsp; Three years ago at exactly this hour our open house was about to begin.&amp;nbsp; Everything was done.&amp;nbsp; The ceremony was done.&amp;nbsp; We were married. &lt;br /&gt;The food was ready.&amp;nbsp; Someone else was making sure that it was served and everyone was fed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dear friend Konny Sinton, as well as Doug's Aunt Bonnie, Uncle Verl, and cousin Rob and many, many others, kept everything under control. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fgvucTfcy-U/S-HAVH9xGVI/AAAAAAAAABk/I46ucNeXcmI/s1600/IMG_3598.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fgvucTfcy-U/S-HAVH9xGVI/AAAAAAAAABk/I46ucNeXcmI/s320/IMG_3598.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;It was fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the most important part was that we were officially a family.&amp;nbsp; We had been a family for a long time. But now it was official&amp;nbsp; The ease at which Doug accepted being a father has always amazed me.&amp;nbsp; And the ease at which the boys accepted Doug was truly astounding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fgvucTfcy-U/S-HAz7s29-I/AAAAAAAAABs/yehtA2JitoI/s1600/IMG_3627.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fgvucTfcy-U/S-HAz7s29-I/AAAAAAAAABs/yehtA2JitoI/s320/IMG_3627.JPG" /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Some things are just meant to be.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fgvucTfcy-U/S-HBKpN9RFI/AAAAAAAAAB0/n6jxgYXjenE/s1600/family1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fgvucTfcy-U/S-HBKpN9RFI/AAAAAAAAAB0/n6jxgYXjenE/s320/family1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other almost overwhelming part was the total love and acceptance from Doug's family of me and the boys.&amp;nbsp; We were immediately and completely part of the family.&amp;nbsp; I don't think I will ever be able to tell them just how much that means to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fgvucTfcy-U/S-HByP2F0UI/AAAAAAAAAB8/E0zPGDe5MJU/s1600/IMG_1802.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fgvucTfcy-U/S-HByP2F0UI/AAAAAAAAAB8/E0zPGDe5MJU/s320/IMG_1802.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember that day, three years ago, so fondly.&amp;nbsp; Every moment is captured in my heart.&amp;nbsp; It was amazing.&amp;nbsp; It made me so, so happy.&amp;nbsp; I love my husband so much and every single day I am overjoyed that we are together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fgvucTfcy-U/S-HDNpjvhCI/AAAAAAAAACM/dEwsWaQ3w-g/s1600/IMG_1821.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fgvucTfcy-U/S-HDNpjvhCI/AAAAAAAAACM/dEwsWaQ3w-g/s320/IMG_1821.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fgvucTfcy-U/S-HC6iaVJkI/AAAAAAAAACE/QDGpl4BLS1k/s1600/IMG_3696.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fgvucTfcy-U/S-HC6iaVJkI/AAAAAAAAACE/QDGpl4BLS1k/s320/IMG_3696.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is my anniversary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am happy.&amp;nbsp; I wouldn't change a thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you, Doug.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2359910297917076218-2810823865244475342?l=rdk-expressions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rdk-expressions.blogspot.com/feeds/2810823865244475342/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rdk-expressions.blogspot.com/2010/05/anniversary-expressions.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2359910297917076218/posts/default/2810823865244475342'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2359910297917076218/posts/default/2810823865244475342'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rdk-expressions.blogspot.com/2010/05/anniversary-expressions.html' title='Anniversary Expressions'/><author><name>ReneK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15646983754835025613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fgvucTfcy-U/SkTnGYUwTjI/AAAAAAAAAAM/x5vz1-44So8/S220/Doug+and+Rene.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fgvucTfcy-U/S-G_1i2jxuI/AAAAAAAAABc/x_fSvLzzwu0/s72-c/IMG_1693.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2359910297917076218.post-4340874230151333793</id><published>2010-04-08T11:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-08T11:44:10.294-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Reflection expressions</title><content type='html'>I woke up today all wound up about my ex-husband.&amp;nbsp; I don't really know what triggered it. I've read a lot of stories on blogs lately about spousal abuse.&amp;nbsp; I was married for 12 years, although the final five we were separated.&amp;nbsp; I was not physically abused.&amp;nbsp; But the emotional abuse was fairly deep.&amp;nbsp; And the scary part was that, while I was living this life, I never knew the impact it had on me.&lt;br /&gt;I have a lot to say about this subject.&amp;nbsp; But, when I woke up this morning in such a tizzy, I talked to my current husband about it.&amp;nbsp; (He's awesome, by the way).&amp;nbsp; That helped a lot.&amp;nbsp; I may write more later.&amp;nbsp; But, for the moment, I'm ok.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2359910297917076218-4340874230151333793?l=rdk-expressions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rdk-expressions.blogspot.com/feeds/4340874230151333793/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rdk-expressions.blogspot.com/2010/04/reflection-expressions.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2359910297917076218/posts/default/4340874230151333793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2359910297917076218/posts/default/4340874230151333793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rdk-expressions.blogspot.com/2010/04/reflection-expressions.html' title='Reflection expressions'/><author><name>ReneK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15646983754835025613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fgvucTfcy-U/SkTnGYUwTjI/AAAAAAAAAAM/x5vz1-44So8/S220/Doug+and+Rene.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2359910297917076218.post-1171306740945891729</id><published>2010-03-26T15:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-26T15:22:48.814-07:00</updated><title type='text'>More Prom Expressions</title><content type='html'>C. had a great time at prom.&amp;nbsp; They spent an hour or so getting photos taken by various parents.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They were late for their dinner reservations at a very popular SLC restaurant so they chose an alternate.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; They were seated very quickly (amazing for a Saturday night).&amp;nbsp; The waiter told them it was because they looked so nice. :-)&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The dance itself was held at the Utah State Capitol building -- quite the venue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, they had a great time.&amp;nbsp; I've recovered from feeling really old.&amp;nbsp; Actually, this event made me (quite fondly, I might add) remember my senior prom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fgvucTfcy-U/S60zoz-b4KI/AAAAAAAAABE/WZJQulWZKlM/s1600/Chris_kayli_2010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" nt="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fgvucTfcy-U/S60zoz-b4KI/AAAAAAAAABE/WZJQulWZKlM/s320/Chris_kayli_2010.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2359910297917076218-1171306740945891729?l=rdk-expressions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rdk-expressions.blogspot.com/feeds/1171306740945891729/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rdk-expressions.blogspot.com/2010/03/more-prom-expressions.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2359910297917076218/posts/default/1171306740945891729'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2359910297917076218/posts/default/1171306740945891729'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rdk-expressions.blogspot.com/2010/03/more-prom-expressions.html' title='More Prom Expressions'/><author><name>ReneK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15646983754835025613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fgvucTfcy-U/SkTnGYUwTjI/AAAAAAAAAAM/x5vz1-44So8/S220/Doug+and+Rene.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fgvucTfcy-U/S60zoz-b4KI/AAAAAAAAABE/WZJQulWZKlM/s72-c/Chris_kayli_2010.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2359910297917076218.post-2202059342353065846</id><published>2010-03-22T08:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-22T08:28:11.314-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sluggish expressions</title><content type='html'>Mondays are not my favorite days.  Although, I guess I should be happy for every day, so that's how I'm going to approach it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm having a little trouble getting my engine going today.  My alarm didn't go off for some reason.  I woke up just a few minutes after it should have...but it's always rough to start the week late, even if only a few minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Prom was a huge success.  C had a marvelous time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J's team won their first basketball game.  It was good...although, of course, he didn't think he played well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rest of the weekend was uneventful.  Hubby, youngest and I ate breakfast at the Original Pancake House.  It was yummy.  Ate too much.  Then went grocery shopping (yippee).  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had our family movie night.  Watched "Dirty Rotten Scoundrels".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nice weekend.  Ended quickly.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday sluggies are here.  But!  I get to see the Celtics tonight!!!  YEAH.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Oh, yeah.  The Jayhawks lost.  Put a damper on my Saturday.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2359910297917076218-2202059342353065846?l=rdk-expressions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rdk-expressions.blogspot.com/feeds/2202059342353065846/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rdk-expressions.blogspot.com/2010/03/sluggish-expressions.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2359910297917076218/posts/default/2202059342353065846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2359910297917076218/posts/default/2202059342353065846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rdk-expressions.blogspot.com/2010/03/sluggish-expressions.html' title='Sluggish expressions'/><author><name>ReneK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15646983754835025613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fgvucTfcy-U/SkTnGYUwTjI/AAAAAAAAAAM/x5vz1-44So8/S220/Doug+and+Rene.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2359910297917076218.post-719518969092392590</id><published>2010-03-20T15:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-20T15:19:27.731-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Prom Expressions</title><content type='html'>It's Saturday.  It's C's Junior Prom tonight.  Who ever heard of prom in March?  My husband, the native Utahn, said "when should it be?"  Apparently early is the norm here.  It snowed yesterday.  Prom and snow?  Weird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But today is gorgeous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are some other weird things about prom here.  One of those is that it's an all day affair.  Chris was up bright and early -- 645am.  I think he's nervous and anxious.  This is a "first date" with the girl he's taking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We headed to the florist at 9am and got the corsage, which is very pretty.  After that, he went to a friends' house to lend his assistance to brunch preparation.  This guy's mom fixed brunch for the group of six.  C picked his date up at 11am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After brunch, they went to the zoo.  Sounded like a very fun date to me.  About 330pm, he texted me "best date ever".  He's a great kid.  And, no, he didn't text while he was on his date.  He waited until he dropped her off at her house to get ready for the night.  The evening resumes at 6pm in evening wear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look at him, the man that he is, and I see the newborn baby.....or the toddler...certainly not the 17-year-old who is much more a man than a little boy.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll write more later.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2359910297917076218-719518969092392590?l=rdk-expressions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rdk-expressions.blogspot.com/feeds/719518969092392590/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rdk-expressions.blogspot.com/2010/03/prom-expressions.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2359910297917076218/posts/default/719518969092392590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2359910297917076218/posts/default/719518969092392590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rdk-expressions.blogspot.com/2010/03/prom-expressions.html' title='Prom Expressions'/><author><name>ReneK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15646983754835025613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fgvucTfcy-U/SkTnGYUwTjI/AAAAAAAAAAM/x5vz1-44So8/S220/Doug+and+Rene.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2359910297917076218.post-853865771217712915</id><published>2010-03-19T09:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-19T10:30:39.091-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Beginning Expressions</title><content type='html'>I find it interesting that I needed to start this blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do I feel the need to pour my heart and soul out into the computer? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it's because I've been reading so many blogs and it seems so cathartic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it's because I added my old college advisor as a friend on Facebook.  He used to tell me "I want you to write something every day. It doesn't matter what your write just write."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it's because writing things down seems to be a better option that screaming or crying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow, I guess I really do feel like screaming and crying.  It's not that there's really anything wrong.  I almost feel guilty writing this blog -- because I'm deeply aware of the fact that there are so many people out there that have real problems to deal with.  Does that mean that my little, mundane issues have less of an impact on my life?  Not really.  It does mean that I can usually talk myself out of being upset or angry by realizing how blessed we really are.  And I do know that we are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I'm starting this blog as a place that I can express myself about whatever I feel like talking about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This has been a weird, stressful week.  To start with, I got sick.  That always stinks.  Trying to manage a couple full time jobs (the one at home and the one at the office) is hard enough when you feel good.  I've not done a great job at either of my professions this week.  Add to that the fact that I have one son who is constantly being monitored by the principal at school (that's another long story for another blog) and one who is 17 and going through incredible emotional growing pains.  And it's the week of prom, which is a big deal in most teenager's lives.  It's been a hell of a week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The issue with the principal surfaced this week, causing some anxiety.  Fortunately, it didn't turn into a big "need to go to the school and straighten this out" issue -- this time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The teenage issues, though, have swirled and banged against the wall repeatedly.  C, my teenage son, has been trying to find a job for months.  And he really has been trying.  And the fact that he hasn't, combined with all the other teenage angst, has turned him into a sad, angry, roaring lion.  He does realize, fortunately, that he really is ok and that everything he's going through is normal.  But that doesn't keep me from worrying.  Of course.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The final thing that's really bugging me is my family -- brothers, dad, cousins.  No, THEY don't bug me but being so far away is really, really bothering me.  I live very far away from them all.  (I'm in Utah, they're in Louisiana, Alabama, North Carolina, Kansas and Arkansas.)  We've been through a lot in the past few months.  And I miss them so much that it threatens to swallow me some times.  There's nothing I can do about it.  Even if I could transfer, it's not really an option.  First, my kids love it here.  And I'd never move C right before his senior year.  Secondly, my husband would not move.  His family is here.  If I moved out of state, it would be without him -- which is not an option.  So, I just have to deal with this gaping hole that I feel inside of me.  I'm trying to plan a trip to see at least some of my family this summer.  Finances are tough, though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basically, all of this stuff is normal life stuff.  I know that.  And I know that I'm blessed to have two healthy sons and a wonderful husband.  I have a good job, a nice place to live and a good life.  I thank God daily for all of this.  And I'm sure I'll get through this blue period. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I've expressed enough for now.  I promise that I'll express about the good things, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until next time,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rene'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2359910297917076218-853865771217712915?l=rdk-expressions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rdk-expressions.blogspot.com/feeds/853865771217712915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rdk-expressions.blogspot.com/2010/03/beginning-expressions.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2359910297917076218/posts/default/853865771217712915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2359910297917076218/posts/default/853865771217712915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rdk-expressions.blogspot.com/2010/03/beginning-expressions.html' title='Beginning Expressions'/><author><name>ReneK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15646983754835025613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fgvucTfcy-U/SkTnGYUwTjI/AAAAAAAAAAM/x5vz1-44So8/S220/Doug+and+Rene.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
