tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-78600875477982838532024-03-13T13:56:43.707-05:00Smiling Shelly's StoriesSmiling Shellyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08637671430642830420noreply@blogger.comBlogger142125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7860087547798283853.post-13731749069360179122011-04-23T21:14:00.005-05:002011-04-23T21:33:35.253-05:00I've Shed My Shell...<div>Hi friends!<br /><br />I know it's been a long time... If you're wondering where I am, I've shed my shell and can now be found at <a href="http://lifenblacknwhite.wordpress.com/">http://lifenblacknwhite.wordpress.com/</a>. </div><div> </div><div>I hope you'll come visit me there :)<br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://s198.photobucket.com/albums/aa274/yboyd/Blog/?action=view&current=Shellysig.gif" target="_blank"><img border="0" alt="Photobucket" src="http://i198.photobucket.com/albums/aa274/yboyd/Blog/Shellysig.gif" /></a></div>Smiling Shellyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08637671430642830420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7860087547798283853.post-82645580257469305182010-02-17T20:11:00.003-06:002010-02-17T22:43:41.082-06:00Shelly Don't Play Dat!<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5vMdsrnZ6M/S3zFUpq2CdI/AAAAAAAAAZE/zvVryzM9Srg/s1600-h/In_Living_Color_Homey_The_Clown_Dont_Play_Dat-T-link.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 145px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 145px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439439408530328018" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5vMdsrnZ6M/S3zFUpq2CdI/AAAAAAAAAZE/zvVryzM9Srg/s400/In_Living_Color_Homey_The_Clown_Dont_Play_Dat-T-link.jpg" /></a><br /><div><br /><div>In today's world, with today's technology, where people can share 'what's on your mind' with anyone and everyone, from anywhere in the entire world - be it on Twitter, Myspace, Facebook or some other social networking forum. How does it not occur that you should stop and ask yourself 'how will this information be perceived?' before pressing that "Share" button?<br /><br />And if you post updates that could be construed as insensitive, disrespectful or vulgar. How is it that you're surprised when people respond negatively or remove you from their friends list or, worse yet, you get fired?<br /><br />If you're on my friends list, there are certain things you should know about me:<br /><br />First and foremost, I make no pretenses.<br /><br />You know if I like you and you know if I don't. If you're not sure, neither am I.<br /><br />I am strong minded and opinionated - and it's okay to disagree with me. I understand that not everyone is going to see things the same way I do. And although I may not necessarily agree with you, I'm completely comfortable with agreeing to disagree.<br /><br />When I'm right, I'm right and I will remain right until you prove to me that I'm not; at which time I will admit I was wrong and apologize - if necessary.<br /><br />I know what I like and what I don't. And if you don't want my opinion, don't ask for it.<br /><br />So, when is enough, enough?<br /><br />Here's my philosophy:<br /><br />If I don't like you, I will ignore you - feel free to do the same to me.<br /><br />If you post about topics that don't really interest me, I'll hide you - feel free to do the same to me.<br /><br />If your negativity begins to have an impact to my mental well being, I will remove you - feel free to do the same to me.<br /><br />If I don't want you involved in my life at all, I will remove and/or block you - feel free to do the same to me.<br /><br />Last night, I came to the conclusion that someone on my friends list was negatively impacting my mental well being. I could have just as easily hidden this person, but after giving way too much thought to some of the comments that were made I decided instead to remove all temptation to respond in kind and deleted her from my list.<br /><br />Now, at the time, I did not realize how important it was for some to have you remain a "friend", as I would rather you remove me from your list than put on false airs and honestly, unless you're someone whom I stalk regularly (<span style="font-size:85%;"><em>you know who you are</em></span>), I probably wouldn't even notice if you were no longer in my list.<br /><br />Well, today I learned just how important that 'friendship' status is to some very sad and lonely people as this was the message I received...<br /><br />Subject: thanks<br /><br />"I noticed today that you deleted me from your friends list... Hopefully that was an error but n e way... Thanks A lot!!"<br /><br />I thought long and hard as to whether or not I would even bother with a response; but taking all things into consideration, I was unable to just let it go. After all, anyone who knows me knows that Shelly don't play dat!<br /><a href="http://s198.photobucket.com/albums/aa274/yboyd/Blog/?action=view&current=Shellysig.gif" target="_blank"><img border="0" alt="Photobucket" src="http://i198.photobucket.com/albums/aa274/yboyd/Blog/Shellysig.gif" /></a> </div></div>Smiling Shellyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08637671430642830420noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7860087547798283853.post-40123895787803759722010-01-22T21:25:00.004-06:002010-01-25T21:17:01.573-06:00WAKE UP!It was 5:00 a.m.<br /><br />She hated being woken up before her alarm was scheduled to sound; but on this morning nothing had happened to cause her to awaken early - no loud clap of thunder, no big bang, no children standing over her, nothing... So why was she awake? No, not only awake... WIDE awake.<br /><br />After several unsuccessful minutes of lying completely still, surrounded by total darkness, listening to the silence in a desperate attempt to recapture that extra hour and a half of treasured sleep, she popped one eye open to glance around the room, catching a glimpse of the expensive clothes hanger in the middle of the bedroom floor, and that's when she heard it...<br /><br />Listening to her hearts desire - the conversations of her mind when she had those precious few moments alone. The ones where her secret wishes to make a change would come to the forefront, but she didn't know how or when she would find the time to do what she knew needed to be done.<br /><br />God's whisper.<br /><br />He had woken her up early enough to get up and exercise before beginning her day.<br /><br />"<em>Okay, God</em>." She silently argued, "<em>I hear you; but why, oh why would you get me up at 5:00?</em>"<br /><br />"<em>That's too early and I'm still really tired. How about I make you a deal?</em>" She pleaded, "<em>You let me go back to sleep this morning and try again in a couple of days - but how about we make it 5:30 next time, m'kay?</em>" And she rolled back over, fluffing her pillow a few times and finally drifted back off to sleep.<br /><br /><div><p>Several weeks have passed since that original conversation with Him and she still had not gotten up any earlier in an attempt to get that morning workout in; BUT, she did recently join a gym with complete resolve to make herself attend <em>at least</em> three times a week.</p><p>Fast forward to yesterday morning, when the puppy woke her up at 4:30 a.m. to go outside. </p><br /><p>If that's not something you're familiar with, let me just tell ya: standing outside in 40 degree temperatures ,while you wait for a puppy to piddle, is a sure fired way to get your blood pumpin in the morning and make it extremely difficult to settle back in for a few more hours of sleep - but somehow she managed.</p><br /><p>I was telling a friend at work about my conversation with God the other morning, when he got me up at 5:00, and how I had made a deal with Him to try back in a few more days. So, when I told her of this morning's pre-dawn activities she so kindly reminded me of the deal I had made just the other day - stating that I had PROMISED Him I would make an attempt to get up and exercise.</p><br /><p>"<em>Yes, that's true," </em>I admitted. "<em>I did say I would get up and exercise the next time He got me up early, but I distinctly recall telling Him 5:30</em>."</p><br /><p>Well, NEVER say that God doesn't listen because <em>this</em> morning - despite the fact that I have been going to the gym and working out all week long, including last night which is why I was so wired I didn't get to sleep until well after midnight - He again had the puppy wake me up early. </p><br /><p>And while it was 5:00 when I got up to let her outside, guess what time it was when I came back in....</p><br /><p>Yep, you got it! It was 5:30 a.m. (almost on the dot). </p><br /><p>I had no excuses left. That was the deal I had made, I was wide awake and although I could almost hear the comfort of my warm and cozy bed calling to me, I had no choice; I had to get my butt up on the elliptical and work out.</p><br /><p>jkl;l;n;oih[p;jio;.nkln; </p><br /><p>Huh? What? Who's there??</p><br /><p>Oh, so sorry about that...that was my face hitting the keyboard as I fell asleep telling this story.</p><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5vMdsrnZ6M/S15eDIhWLvI/AAAAAAAAAYs/dN4X11I1X6Q/s1600-h/Asleep+at+the+Keyboard.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 318px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430881608575364850" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5vMdsrnZ6M/S15eDIhWLvI/AAAAAAAAAYs/dN4X11I1X6Q/s400/Asleep+at+the+Keyboard.jpg" /></a><br /><p>Guess who's going to sleep goooood tonight?!?!?</p><p>Moral of the story?? </p><p>Be careful what you promise - He has a way of making you keep them ;) I'm so thankful He's patient with me :)</p><a href="http://s198.photobucket.com/albums/aa274/yboyd/Blog/?action=view&current=Shellysig.gif" target="_blank"><img border="0" alt="Photobucket" src="http://i198.photobucket.com/albums/aa274/yboyd/Blog/Shellysig.gif" /></a> </div>Smiling Shellyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08637671430642830420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7860087547798283853.post-10854382348312278892010-01-22T20:59:00.002-06:002010-01-27T20:55:50.820-06:00The Class from HellYou may recall that I recently <del><a href="http://shellystories.blogspot.com/2010/01/signing-up-for-sadomasochism.html">signed up for sadomasochism</a></del> joined a gym.<br /><p>On day one I told you I got my ass kicked in a body pump class. </p><p>Seriously, after that first workout, my legs were like limp noodles. For a minute there, I thought I was going to have to get the thirteen year old to drive us home because my leg was shaking so bad I couldn't maneuver the clutch. </p><br /><p>Thank goodness the gym is right around the corner from the house - I drove home that night praying that I wouldn't catch a red light for fear I wouldn't be able to get out of first gear.</p><br /><p>Day two wasn't so bad. It was orientation night, I came home and got changed to go meet the personal trainer. She took down all my statistics (weight, body fat, BMI) <span style="font-size:78%;">the bitch </span><span style="font-size:100%;">and then she took me around to each piece of equipment and showed me how to set it up - seat height, how much weight to lift, the proper way to lift the weights, etc. Afterwards, I jumped on the elliptical and got in about a 45 minute workout.</span></p><br /><p>Saturday morning (day three) I got up early and went to the gym doing both the weights and 30 minutes on the elliptical.</p><br /><p>Monday night, the teen and ol' pro go to the gym. On the way there, they talk about what they're going to do: Sugar decides she's going to check out the cycling class and I was going to repeat my Saturday routine (weights and elliptical). </p><br /><p>Well, for those of you who've ever gone to a gym you will know, Monday's are always the busiest nights at the gym and everything seemed to be taken so I decided instead to join Sugar in the spin class.</p><br /><p>About twenty minutes into the workout, I came to the conclusion that the instructor lady was trying to kill me. </p><br /><p>I <em>soooo</em> couldn't hang.</p><br /><p>Finally, I quietly gathered up my aching butt and my burning thighs and took them to something that I knew I could do - yep, the elliptical (my favorite!)</p><br /><p>Spin class my ass - <span style="font-size:180%;">HA!</span> - more like purgatory!<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5vMdsrnZ6M/S2D7ZHi0J0I/AAAAAAAAAY0/W9Q7_oDjN8o/s1600-h/Devil+Tire+(2).jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 292px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431617559549192002" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5vMdsrnZ6M/S2D7ZHi0J0I/AAAAAAAAAY0/W9Q7_oDjN8o/s400/Devil+Tire+(2).jpg" /></a> </p><p>In other news: I'm SO proud of Sugar - who stuck it out for the entire workout (and survived)! She's awesome!</p><p><a href="http://s198.photobucket.com/albums/aa274/yboyd/Blog/?action=view&current=Shellysig.gif" target="_blank"><img border="0" alt="Photobucket" src="http://i198.photobucket.com/albums/aa274/yboyd/Blog/Shellysig.gif" /></a> </p>Smiling Shellyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08637671430642830420noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7860087547798283853.post-84796127691390441452010-01-18T19:52:00.005-06:002010-01-18T20:55:57.276-06:00Signing up for Sadomasochism <a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5vMdsrnZ6M/S1UfMsfIxoI/AAAAAAAAAYk/hS5IfRKn_mY/s1600-h/stock-vector-plump-woman-jogging-vector-34267288.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 284px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428279228825650818" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5vMdsrnZ6M/S1UfMsfIxoI/AAAAAAAAAYk/hS5IfRKn_mY/s400/stock-vector-plump-woman-jogging-vector-34267288.jpg" /></a><br /><div>Not one to make New Years resolutions, she did tell herself that she would make an effort to attain a couple of personal goals in the year 2010.<br /><br />The first goal she wanted to work towards was putting aside more time for one of her favorite pastimes - blogging. While it is still only January, she has made an honest effort to delve back in to her love of story telling and hopefully, as time ticks on, she will be able to continue with a schedule that allows her the necessary time for this passion.<br /><br />The other thing that she has told herself she would like to accomplish is to get back into shape. Realistically speaking, she knows there are two things that will have to happen in order to achieve this goal: 1) keep her mouth shut - <em><span style="font-size:85%;">aka step away from the food</span></em> - and 2) get off her butt - <em><span style="font-size:85%;">aka exercise.</span></em><br /><em><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></em><br />Today she took the first step towards reaching her goal.<br /><br />Today she joined the gym.<br /><br />And today... she got her ass kicked!!<br /><br />After <del>signing up for sadomasochism</del> joining the gym, she went back up there for her first - <span style="font-size:85%;">and quite possibly her last</span> - Body Pump class.<br /><br />Did the instructor not notice how big she was?? </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Did she not take one look at her and equate all that girth to the fact that this girl was most likely out of shape??<br /><br />I'm not sure she did, because that woman tried her damnedest to kill me!<br /><br />Apparently, I enjoy torment because my plan for tomorrow - <em>provided I don't wake up dead from this afternoon's <del>torture chamber session</del> workout</em> - is to go back for more... *sigh*<br /><br />Lord, give me strength <span style="font-size:78%;">(to get out of the bed in the morning and be willing to do this all over again)</span>. Amen.<br /><a href="http://s198.photobucket.com/albums/aa274/yboyd/Blog/?action=view&current=Shellysig.gif" target="_blank"><img border="0" alt="Photobucket" src="http://i198.photobucket.com/albums/aa274/yboyd/Blog/Shellysig.gif" /></a> </div>Smiling Shellyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08637671430642830420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7860087547798283853.post-17587918615180631682010-01-11T20:18:00.006-06:002010-01-11T21:38:13.093-06:00Cardboard Pizza?It had been a long week:<br /><br />Still getting back into the swing of things after the holidays. A spittle of snow had fallen over the city - closing the schools - with two day highs reaching a whopping 7 to 8 degrees.<br /><br />Friday had finally arrived!<br /><br />Sugar called to ask what they were going to do for supper. "Can we go out tonight?" she asked.<br /><br />Way too cold to even think about getting out and trying to wrap up all of her work before heading home for the weekend, she didn't have time to give much thought to dinner.<br /><br />"No baby, it's too cold to go anywhere tonight." She said to the disappointed teenager. "I'll think about it and figure something out before I get home."<br /><br />Sometime between hanging up the phone and arriving home, pizza popped into her mind.<br /><br />It's quick... it's easy... it's perfect!<br /><br />Now on to the next important quandary: what kind of pizza would it be?<br /><br />Pizza Hut - Nah<br /><br />Domino's - No<br /><br />Papa John's - Not tonight<br /><br />What then??<br /><br />Freezer section - Kroger - DiGiorno (three meats, stuffed crust pizza)<br /><br /><em>Mm-mm! Just as good as any of those others and cost less too.</em><br /><div></div><br /><div>That decided it - Pizza it was!<br /><br />She calls Sugar and tells her to preheat the oven, then heads to Kroger to pick up their dinner. She comes home, unwraps it and pops it into the preheated oven - reading the directions, she sets the timer for...<br /><br />What?? 6 minutes...<br /><br /><em>"Wow!"</em> she thought to herself as she heads towards the restroom to change out of her work clothes, <em>"I knew it didn't take long but that's remarkably fast."</em><br /><br />Not giving it another thought, she changes clothes and the timer soon goes off. As she heads back towards the kitchen, she starts thinking to herself, <em>"there's no way that pizza can be ready this quickly."</em><br /><br />"Wait a minute." She says to Sugar, trying to stop her before she gets too far into cutting the slices, "is that pizza really done? "<br /><br />"Yes," Sugar replies, already having sliced it into fours.<br /><br />Looking at the pizza, she clearly sees that it is not done so she picks up the package and reads the instructions again:<br /><br />Bake 25 - 27 minutes.<br /><br /><em>Where in the hell did she get six minutes from?</em><br /><em></em><br />Oh well, back into the oven it goes.<br /><br />21 minutes later, the pizza is <em>really</em> done and as they begin slicing....<br /><br />Have you ever heard the term, <em>"It tastes like cardboard?"</em><br /><br />Yeah?!?!<br /></div><div>Well, they discover where that saying came from when they realized that they had cooked the</div><div>pizza.... *<em>drum roll please</em>* .... <br /></div><div></div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5vMdsrnZ6M/S0vr1jY7MAI/AAAAAAAAAYc/jal01RnSLhU/s1600-h/StuckPizza.gif"><img style="WIDTH: 300px; HEIGHT: 293px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425689481363271682" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5vMdsrnZ6M/S0vr1jY7MAI/AAAAAAAAAYc/jal01RnSLhU/s400/StuckPizza.gif" /></a><br /><div><strong><span style="font-size:180%;">on-the-cardboard!<br /></span></strong><br />And <em>this</em>, folks, is why I leave the cooking to the thirteen year old.<br /><br /><a href="http://s198.photobucket.com/albums/aa274/yboyd/Blog/?action=view&current=Shellysig.gif" target="_blank"><img border="0" alt="Photobucket" src="http://i198.photobucket.com/albums/aa274/yboyd/Blog/Shellysig.gif" /></a> </div>Smiling Shellyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08637671430642830420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7860087547798283853.post-16757949377793851302010-01-08T20:11:00.007-06:002010-01-09T17:39:40.191-06:00Brrr - Who left the freezer door open?I went to bed in Mississippi and woke up in Alaska.<br /><div></div><br /><div>Who left the freezer door open?<br /><br />What is <em>up</em> with this weather??<br /><br />Never, in my history of living here - which has been all of my life - can I recall us ever having temperatures in the single digits (and that's not even accounting for the wind chill factor).<br /><br />I <strong>hate</strong> cold weather!<br /><br />My feet have been freezing all - day - long!<br /><br />It's cold at the office on a regular winter day, where the highs are in the 40's and the lows are in the 30's. Can you imagine what it's like on a day like today??<br /><br />My manager and I have to take turns using our heaters because if we both run them together, we blow a fuse - we learned that lesson the hard way <span style="font-size:78%;">(a couple of times)</span>. Then we get fussed at because <em>technically</em> they tell us we aren't supposed to have heaters.<br /><br /><em>Well, if it weren't freezing in there all the time, we wouldn't need them now would we?? You think I could convince the company to buy us all a Snuggie?</em><br /><br />So today, I worked with a blanket over my lap, a scarf around my neck and at one point I even had gloves on. Can you imagine trying to type with gloves on your hands?? Let me just tell ya, it ain't that easy.<br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5vMdsrnZ6M/S0fuQE88JOI/AAAAAAAAAYU/IE6JZKLWaf4/s1600-h/Frozen.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424566236165711074" style="WIDTH: 184px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 225px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5vMdsrnZ6M/S0fuQE88JOI/AAAAAAAAAYU/IE6JZKLWaf4/s400/Frozen.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />In my next life, I want to be a bear so I can sleep through this whole miserable season. <em>Grrr</em>! </div><div> </div><div></div><div>Who woulda thunk the day would ever come where I would long for temperatures in the 40's?!? Heck, at this point I would even take the 30's...<br /><br /><a href="http://s198.photobucket.com/albums/aa274/yboyd/Blog/?action=view&current=Shellysig.gif" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" src="http://i198.photobucket.com/albums/aa274/yboyd/Blog/Shellysig.gif" border="0" /></a> </div>Smiling Shellyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08637671430642830420noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7860087547798283853.post-35611254713406161072010-01-06T20:24:00.000-06:002010-01-07T19:19:41.504-06:00The Gentle CycleWe've all had them, moments when we've put the cereal box in the refrigerator or the milk in the cabinet...<br /><br />It was five a.m. when she stumbled out of bed, tripping over the five year old's shoes on her way to stop that constant buzzing sound, coming from the direction of her dresser.<br /><br />Slapping at the annoying culprit, she finally gets the alarm turned off and wanders, sleepy eyed, into the bathroom for her morning shower.<br /><br />After a few minutes of unsuccessfully working to get a good lather in her hair, and with the cobwebs of sleep still firmly rooted in her brain, she begins to think about the order of things while taking an inventory off all her shower products: shampoo bottle, check; men's shampoo, check; Gillette facial scrub and wash, check; children's shampoo and conditioner, check; feminine wash, check; All Clear facial scrub, check; bar of soap, check.<br /><br />And suddenly, the fog begins to clear her mind....<br /><br />Wait - a - minute: Her shampoo is clear, <em>yes</em>. What she put in her hair was clear, <em>yes</em>.<br /><br />Ohhoho - laughter spilling forth as she looks back and forth between the bottles and the light bulb begins to burn a little brighter - yep!<br /><br />That explains the mystery of the missing suds!<br /><br />She had just washed her hair with the very, <em>very</em> gentle cycle!<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5vMdsrnZ6M/S0P7opUf2GI/AAAAAAAAAYM/HAYwlSSGFpQ/s1600-h/summers-eve-feminine-wash_1252091823_LRG.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423455051989375074" style="WIDTH: 175px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 175px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5vMdsrnZ6M/S0P7opUf2GI/AAAAAAAAAYM/HAYwlSSGFpQ/s400/summers-eve-feminine-wash_1252091823_LRG.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">I only hope it doesn't cause her hair to become coarse. ;) Just sayin'..</span><br /><br /><a href="http://s198.photobucket.com/albums/aa274/yboyd/Blog/?action=view&current=Shellysig.gif" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" src="http://i198.photobucket.com/albums/aa274/yboyd/Blog/Shellysig.gif" border="0" /></a>Smiling Shellyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08637671430642830420noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7860087547798283853.post-19504562250302486232010-01-05T20:00:00.000-06:002010-01-05T20:13:45.131-06:00When Pigs Fly<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5vMdsrnZ6M/S0PxWBs41rI/AAAAAAAAAYE/4ryXvKPQBfA/s1600-h/pig-fly.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423443737000335026" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 332px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 310px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5vMdsrnZ6M/S0PxWBs41rI/AAAAAAAAAYE/4ryXvKPQBfA/s400/pig-fly.gif" border="0" /></a><br /><div>They're droppin' like flies!<br /><br />These days, everyone seems to know someone who's had it.<br /><br />I'm talking about the swine flu.<br /><br />We went through about a three week period of illness in the Shell household. Sugar had "not the flu" then Spice got sick with a high fever - also diagnosed as "not the flu", then Sugar got sick again and we took her back to the doctor only for her to be diagnosed with the flu.<br /><br />After hearing several comparable stories from friends and co-workers, I became convinced that the flu tests they give in the doctors office aren't very accurate and my manager confirmed my suspicions when she had to take her girls to the doctor with flu like symptoms and the doctor actually told her that those tests have about a 30% accuracy rate.<br /><br />Meanwhile, a good friend of mine had a similar situation going on in her household. First her son got "not the flu" and about a week later she was taking him back to the doctor with no improvement. Then she got sick with "not the flu" - but her niece was diagnosed with the flu.<br /><br />I was talking to her, trying to convince her that the doctors were wrong and that she did in fact have the flu when it happened again.<br /><br />You see, every time she stays home sick a bird somehow ends up getting stuck in her fireplace - and I'm usually talking to her when it happens.<br /><br />She said that he had been in there for a while and he was annoying the crap out of her, but she just didn't feel like dealing with letting him out.<br /><br />I told her to just tell him he better get out of there before she gave him the flu<br /><br />"No wait!" I said, "He'll give YOU the bird flu and you'll give HIM the swine flu...and then pigs really will fly."<br /><br />And there you have it, folks! How diseases transfer from animal to human and human to animal.<br /><br />Glad I could clear that up for you. :)<br /><br /><a href="http://s198.photobucket.com/albums/aa274/yboyd/Blog/?action=view&current=Shellysig.gif" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" src="http://i198.photobucket.com/albums/aa274/yboyd/Blog/Shellysig.gif" border="0" /></a> </div>Smiling Shellyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08637671430642830420noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7860087547798283853.post-40750084411731017652010-01-04T18:17:00.004-06:002010-01-04T20:27:57.723-06:00Twilight Zone PhoneThe phone rang and I answered it.<br /><br />From the moment I picked up the phone a switch was flipped and I was no longer sitting behind my desk at work; instead, I had been transformed to an alternate universe.<br /><br />"Let me speak to James" the caller said gruffly<br />"I'm sorry." I told him, "but you have the wrong number."<br />"Is this 4566?" He asked.<br />"Yes, those are the last four digits of my..." I began<br />"Is this 555-4566?" he interrupted.<br />"Yes, but this is the bank" I explained.<br /><br /><em>Now, at this point you would think that he would realize his mistake and disconnect right??</em><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">WRONG!</span><br /><br />The conversation proceeded as follows:<br /><br />Him: "Well, let me ask you this."<br />Me: *silence*<br />Him: "You're the bank, right?!"<br />Me: "Well, no sir but I do work for the bank."<br />Him: "Okay, let me ask you this then. How do I open an account?"<br /><br /><em>Seriously, is this guy seriously asking me how to open an account when he clearly thought he was calling a private number to speak to James?? Okay, this must be a joke, I think to myself but I continue as follows:</em><br /><br />Me: "You would go into one of our full service locations and see someone on the desk side to open an account."<br />Him: "Could I go into Monroe and open an account?"<br /><br /><em>Monroe? What's on Monroe? We don't have a bank on Monroe</em><br /><br />Me: "Monroe?" I repeat for clarification.<br />Him: "Yeah, this is the bank right?"<br />Me: "Yes sir, I work for *name of bank* but I'm not in the centers. Are you referring to *name of bank*?" I ask again, for clarification.<br />Him: "Yeah, there's a *repeats name of bank* on Monroe."<br />Me: "Oh, well in that case; yes, you could go into that location and see someone on desk side and they could assist you with opening an account."<br /><br /><em>Okay, I've clearly answered all of his questions, right? Surly he's going to say thank you and disconnect, right?</em><br /><br /><em>Yeah -</em> <span style="font-size:180%;">wrong again!</span><br /><br />Him: "Okay good. Let me ask you this then. What are your prices?"<br />Me: "Our prices?"<br />Him: "Yeah, your prices to open an account."<br /><br /><em>Okay, at this point I'm beginning to think I'm the victim of an early morning radio prank. The longer this conversation continues, the stranger it gets. I kept waiting for the DJ to start laughing and tell me that it was all a joke, but that announcement never happened.</em><br /><br />Me: "As I said, I'm not in the centers so I don't have that information but what I can do for you is look up the number to one of our branches and you can call them."<br /><br /><em>Anything to get him off the phone at this point...</em><br /><br />Him: "Yeah, that would be mighty nice."<br />Me: "Okay great, can you hold please?"<br />Him: "Yeah, thank you kindly."<br /><br />So, I put him on hold and I look up our phone numbers but of course, there isn't a number for a center on Monroe because that doesn't exist.<br /><br />Me: "Sir, are you still there?"<br />Him: "Yes, I thank you for doing this. My birthday is coming up and I need to save some money."<br />Me: "You're welcome and thank you for holding. Now I've been looking but I don't see a branch on Monroe... I do, however, see one on Madison. Will that one work?"<br />Him: "Yeah, Madison. That's it. I need to put some money aside. You see, my birthday is coming up and they're throwing me a party. The lady's going to jump out of the cake and I don't want to spend all my money."<br />Me: *chuckling* "Oh, okay...Well, the number to our Madison location is 555-5378. You just give them a call and someone will be able to assist with your questions."<br />Him: "Thank you so much and happy new year."<br />Me: "You're welcome. Happy new year to you too and I hope you have a happy birthday."<br />Him: "Thank you, and one more thing..."<br /><br />Here's where I thought the radio host was going to laugh and tell me they were pulling my leg but instead, he says: "You're about to have a baby, aren't you?"<br /><br /><em>Crazy caller on the phone say wha'?!?!?!</em><br /><br />Me: "Um...No."<br />Him: "Huh, I usually don't get that wrong. Oh well, sweet dreams"<br /><br />Now, I'm not really sure if the last thing he said to me was "sweet dreams" or "I'll see you in your dreams." or "I saw it in my dreams." all are pretty creepy.<br /><br /><br />This morning, I got to work and had a voice mail. I checked it and it was a lady calling because she heard that I paint houses...<br /><br />You think they may be related?? Maybe he had so much fun messing with me that he gave my number out to the rest of the crazies in his family. I don't know, what do you think?<br /><br /><a href="http://s198.photobucket.com/albums/aa274/yboyd/Blog/?action=view&current=Shellysig.gif" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" src="http://i198.photobucket.com/albums/aa274/yboyd/Blog/Shellysig.gif" border="0" /></a>Smiling Shellyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08637671430642830420noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7860087547798283853.post-64444834263822964092010-01-01T22:34:00.005-06:002010-01-02T00:35:55.762-06:00Happy New Year Decade!<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g5vMdsrnZ6M/Sz7NcbNmf2I/AAAAAAAAAX8/Q-4pWCLZM7w/s1600-h/happynewyear.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421996889625493346" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 310px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g5vMdsrnZ6M/Sz7NcbNmf2I/AAAAAAAAAX8/Q-4pWCLZM7w/s400/happynewyear.gif" border="0" /></a> As the clock struck midnight, it was out with the old and in with the new.<br /><br />Many milestones where reached in 2009: In June, Mr. Shell and I celebrated our thirteenth anniversary and Spice, our youngest, turned five. In the fall she started kindergarten.<br />Sugar, our oldest, went into the Seventh grade and in November she became a [GULP!] teenager.<br />November also marked our one year anniversary of blissful happiness in our new home. For the first time ever, we live in a neighborhood where we could put our outdoor decorations out without fear that they would grow legs and walk off. We said goodbye to our long time family dachshund, Sam. And blogging took a backseat to social networking and farming on Facebook.<br /><br />As we ring in the new year, we make resolutions in hopes of accomplishing goals that, up until now, have always seemed unattainable. We tell ourselves: "This will be the year that I get myself organized." or "This year, I'm going to join that gym and get serious about my health." or how about this one, "This year, I'm going to lose weight." And all these things are said with good intentions and thoughts of starting anew, "It's out with the old and in with the new," we say. But as January winds down and the realities of life start settling back in, we realize we aren't making as much progress as we had hoped and all those good intentions usually fall to the wayside.<br /><br />Not one to make a bunch of new year resolutions that are sure to be broken before the end of a full month, I will admit that I have recently felt a strong conviction towards blogging - I miss it!<br /><br />For a while, I though I wanted to try my hand at writing a novel but, after many false starts, I just don't feel that I have a story in me. While I love telling stories and I love reading stories, I don't feel like I could "make up" a story that would be interesting enough for people to want to read - much less go out and buy.<br /><br />To me, blogging is not the same as writing. With my blog, I can take an ever day event and spin it into a tale. While I may never be good enough to have a published novel, I can honestly say that I love telling stories. I love finding ways to take what may have started out as a negative situation and turning it into source of laughter.<br /><br />I tell you all this to say: In 2010, I am resolved to make more of an effort to listen to my creative voice and tell the stories that are inside my head instead of ignoring them as I have in this last year.<br /><br />One of my favorite things about myself is that I'm creative. I feel that God has blessed me with the gift of creativity and I also believe if you do not use the gifts He gives to you, He may also take them away, and I certainly don't want my creative voice to become mute. So watch out world, Shelly's blogging again and YOU may be her next <del>victim</del> story! ;)<br /><br />I'll talk to you soon and Happy New Year :)<br /><br /><a href="http://s198.photobucket.com/albums/aa274/yboyd/Blog/?action=view&current=Shellysig.gif" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" src="http://i198.photobucket.com/albums/aa274/yboyd/Blog/Shellysig.gif" border="0" /></a>Smiling Shellyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08637671430642830420noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7860087547798283853.post-35911706922641019582009-10-28T18:24:00.003-05:002009-10-28T18:48:46.872-05:00Boo Boo The Fool<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5vMdsrnZ6M/SujYCGKSXJI/AAAAAAAAAX0/hLb0WY_2ak8/s1600-h/BooBoo.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397801683928636562" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 328px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 187px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5vMdsrnZ6M/SujYCGKSXJI/AAAAAAAAAX0/hLb0WY_2ak8/s400/BooBoo.gif" border="0" /></a><br /><div>What do I look like, Boo-boo the fool??<br /><br />Wait a minute! Don’t answer that!<br /><br />I <em>said</em>, don’t answer that! *sigh*<br /><br />Oh well... if you answered yes to that question, then you aren’t in the boat by yourself. Apparently my soon-to-be-thirteen-years-old daughter thinks so too.<br /><br /><br />I must admit, there are a lot of things that I’m not good at remembering:<br /><br />I may not remember what movies I’ve bought.<br /><br />I may not remember which CD’s we have.<br /><br />I might not remember the name of a book I’ve read or a movie that I’ve watched.<br /><br />In fact, it’s very possible that I won’t remember your name – I’m horrible with names!<br /><br />So maybe it seems odd to her that I would be able to remember each and every outfit that she has.<br /><br />But… <span style="font-size:130%;">I do!</span><br /><br />If she would stop and think about it for a minute, it probably wouldn’t seem so strange. After all, where does she think all those clothes come from? They don't just magically appear in your closet. (<em>HA! I wish!</em>)<br /><br /><em>Noooo</em>…someone has to go shopping for them and had to pay for them.<br /><br />And who does she thinks washes all those clean clothes that she throws in the laundry basket, instead of putting them back up after being worn for all of two seconds?<br /><br />And after all of those <del>clean</del> dirty clothes have been washed, who does she think folds them and then looks at them, sitting on the couch for a week while waiting for them to grow legs and make their way back upstairs? </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Yeah, that would be <span style="font-size:180%;">ME!<br /></span><br />So, can someone please help me understand why she would think that she could come downstairs this morning wearing a black skirt with a pink jacket over it AND a pair of jeans, and expect me to believe that the black SKIRT is a strapless SHIRT?!?!<br /><br />I swear, sometimes I wonder what planet that girl hailed from.<br /><br /><a href="http://s198.photobucket.com/albums/aa274/yboyd/Blog/?action=view&current=Shellysig.gif" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" src="http://i198.photobucket.com/albums/aa274/yboyd/Blog/Shellysig.gif" border="0" /></a> </div>Smiling Shellyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08637671430642830420noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7860087547798283853.post-56961979410633440382009-10-05T18:15:00.011-05:002009-10-05T21:37:37.023-05:00Not One to Complain...Monday's - noted to be one of the least favorite days of the week.<br /><br />Now, I'm not usually one to complain, <span style="font-size:78%;">much </span><span style="font-size:100%;">but today has been a stereotypical Monday... </span><br /><br />Nothing puts me in a grumpy mood quicker than when my much needed beauty rest gets interrupted.<br /><br />This morning - <u>one</u> <u>full</u> <u>hour</u> <u><em>prior</em></u> to wake up time - I hear the sound of my oldest daughter singing a little tune that went something like this:<br /><br />♪♪ Time to wa-ake up ♪ Wakeup Sugar ♪♪<br />♪Time to wa-ake up ♪ Wakeup Sugar ♪<br />♪♪ Time to wa-a-a-ake up♪♪<br /><span style="font-size:85%;">(repeat three times, getting progressively louder)</span><br /><br />Alright so, admittedly, I really did enjoy hearing that little jingle this morning - it made me smile. However, I would have enjoyed it much more had it actually been time to wake up.<br /><br />I'm just sayin' ;)<br /><br />This, accompanied by the vibration of the phone, continued every ten minutes for an hour and I finally gave up all hope of trying to latch on to the last precious minutes of my cherished slumber. I rolled out of bed to get this cold and dreary Monday started.<br /><br />But I'm not one to complain, <span style="font-size:78%;">much...</span><br /><br />Looks like I'm definitely going to need my morning cup of java, which I go into the kitchen to fix only to discover that my coffee maker is now disassembled. Apparently the oldest was trying to be helpful so she took my coffee maker apart and cleaned it in the dishwasher - leaving instead a sink full of dirty dishes.<br /><br />But I'm not one to complain, <span style="font-size:78%;">much...</span><br /><br />With the coffee pot now reassembled, I set it up to brew and go off to take my shower, brush my teeth and get dressed.<br /><br />As I'm finishing up on the last touches of my morning routine I notice a strange gurgling sound coming from the kitchen. I learn that the source of the noise is my coffee maker, complaining because I forgot to put the lid down when I put it back together causing percolation problems.<br /><br />But I'm not one to complain, <span style="font-size:78%;">much...</span><br /><br />At work, my computer locks up and I lose a report that I had just spent two hours putting together.<br /><br />But I'm not one to complain, <span style="font-size:78%;">much...</span><br /><br />After work, Spice had her first golf lesson. For an hour, I stand out in the cold, wet drizzle - while my baby learns to identify all the parts of a golf club as well as the proper grip and stance - fighting off the worlds largest mosquitoes.<br /><br />But I'm not one to complain, <span style="font-size:78%;">much...</span><br /><br />Once practice was over, I decided a quick meal was in order so we drove to McDonald's where it was clearly obvious that they would not be getting my order correct... so we left in favor of Wendy's.<br /><br />I placed our order and pulled up to the first window to pay.<br /><br />As I'm searching for my card I vaguely recall hearing the manager and cashier talking about her being afraid of/allergic to bees. I finally found the card and as I hand it to the cashier, I immediately feel the relevance of their conversation as a sharp, stinging pain shoots up the back of my arm.<br /><br />"Well," I announce, as cheerfully as possible to the two lovely people having a conversation about bees but don't bother to warn my that he's IN.MY.CAR. "You don't have to worry about that bee anymore because he'll be dying soon since he just stung me."<br /><br />But I'm not one to complain, <span style="font-size:78%;">much...</span><br /><br />Now I'm home and Sugar comes out to help me carry the food in. I tell her that I got stung and she informs me that the culprit - a wasp, not a bee - is still on the car.<br /><br />Guess he was going to hang around and see if he could get me again, since my arm was only swollen to half its regular size.<br /><br />But I'm not one to complain... oh, who the hell am I kidding?!?!? That shit hurt! (<em>and it's still hurts!!</em>)<br /><br />Without complaining, I'll just say this: I'm glad there is only one Monday in a week - and that this one is almost over (pray for me y'all; I still have a couple more hours to go before it becomes official *sigh*)<br /><br /><a href="http://s198.photobucket.com/albums/aa274/yboyd/Blog/?action=view&current=Shellysig.gif" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" src="http://i198.photobucket.com/albums/aa274/yboyd/Blog/Shellysig.gif" border="0" /></a>Smiling Shellyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08637671430642830420noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7860087547798283853.post-13322976985406857882009-09-04T21:01:00.005-05:002009-09-07T21:09:17.078-05:00FED UPHave you ever gotten to the point where you can't take one. more. single. thing??<br /><br />You may remember me sharing the frustrations I've been dealing with over the past couple of weeks, with the cooties being passed back and forth between both of my girls.<br /><br />And the cherry, on top of the whipped cream, on top of the icing, on top of the cake was when Sugar coughed ON. MY. ARM. only for me to discover she had a fever of <span style="color:#ff0000;"><strong>102</strong></span>!!!<br /><br />Needless to say, I took her BACK to the doctor the next morning where she was diagnosed with the flu. Strain A flu, to be specific.<br /><br />What does that mean, you ask??? Well, let me just tell ya...<br /><br />Apparently there are two major strains of flu: Strain A and Strain B.<br /><br />But strain A happens to be the strain that the dreaded swine flu is in. Which means... If you are diagnosed with strain A flu, you have to stay out of work/school for 7 calendar days <em>or</em> until you are symptom free for 24 hours - whichever comes <em>later</em>.<br /><br />I know what you're thinking - I thought so too. In fact, I had to re-read that same sentence a couple of times myself. But in answer to your question, that is not a typo: If you or your child has strain A of the influenza virus, you will be out for a MINIMUM of 7 days.<br /><br />Now, while I understand and completely agree with the importance of preventing the spread of the potentially deadly strain of the N1H1 virus - <span style="font-size:85%;">heck, I'll even go so far as to say I agree with taking necessary measures to prevent the spread of ANY virus</span> - I had already been at home with sick kids for almost two weeks. To me, one more week added to that sentence felt like the proverbial nail in the coffin.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">At this point, I feel I need to add a disclaimer stating that I am not complaining about my children being sick. No parent likes to see their children sick. And while I am blessed that I have the ability to work from home, I like having adult interactions. I like the people I work with and I enjoy going to work each day. </span><br /><br />And now back to our regularly scheduled blog post...<br /><br />So, we've gone to the doctor and she's been diagnosed as having strain A influenza. The doctor writes a prescription for our household, in an effort to prevent us all from getting sick too. They give Sugar a mask to put over her face and we're escorted out to the back side of the office - <em>I told her now she knows what Michael Jackson must have felt like, except she still has a nose.</em><br /><br />The whole family is now on Tamiflu and suddenly Spice starts behaving like a little monster - I mean, even more so than usual - and that's putting it mildly. I don't know what got into that girl but I am not exaggerating when I tell you that she threw a first class kicking, screaming - <u>at</u> <u>the</u> <u>top</u> <u>of</u> <u>her</u> <u>lungs</u> - fit for about fifteen minutes one night.<br /><br />With all the recent changes in her daily routine, it's hard to pin point the cause of this extreme behavior. It could be that she's still trying to get acclimated to the more structured environment of school. Add to that, that she's accustomed to taking a three to four hour nap in the afternoons and that's not happening anymore; it could be that she's simply exhausted. It might be that she still isn't feeling well or, it may be that she's seen someone else throwing fits and thought she would come home and try it out.<br /><br />But the most perplexing of all is that her conduct in school deteriorated too. She has been bringing home a green smiley face every day since school started (<em><span style="font-size:85%;">that's the best you can get</span></em>) and suddenly she was bringing home orange and yellow dots (<em><span style="font-size:85%;">not good! Orange is one step away from red, which is the worst!</span></em>).<br /><br />Now, I'm not living in some fantasy world where I am delusional enough to believe that my little girl is going to be perfectly behaved every single day; after all, I did give her the pseudonym of Spice not Angel. ;) While she is my child and I do love her, I also know that she is very stubborn and can be quite obstinate when she so chooses - but something weird was going on here.<br /><br />Taking the timing of this decline into consideration, I decided to read up on any possible conditions caused by the medicine we were all taking... Sure enough, there it was in black and white: This medication could cause extreme behavioral changes in some and this is most likely to occur in young children.<br /><br />"Well there you go." I thought to myself, "this explains it. Once we finish this round of medicine, her behavior will improve and we will be back to normal around here." -<span style="font-size:85%;"> whatever <em>that</em> is ;)<br /><br /></span>Last Sunday was her final dose of the <del>liquid evil</del> medicine and on Monday she brought home another green smiley face. <em>YAY</em>!:) This desired pattern of good behavior continued throughout the entire week, thus proving that the culprit of all of last weeks heartburn was indeed the Tamiflu.<br /><br />That is until...TONIGHT.<br /><br />Tonight, the evil twin returned for round two of the B.B.B. (<em><span style="font-size:85%;">Bratty Behavioral Battles</span></em>). And this time, Sugar thought she was going to join in on the fun too - it must be the full moon...<br /><br />But, after almost three whole weeks of running back and forth to the doctors office, getting coughed on, being under house arrest and spending $157.00 in medicine - all in the name of love for her children - momma had reached the end of her rope.<br /><br />She was FED UP!<br /><br />The girls have been in their rooms since 7 pm and they were <del>told</del> <del>warned</del> strongly advised that they had better not to come back down for the remainder of the night, because not even Calgon could take me far enough away for them to escape my wrath if I had to correct them one more time tonight.<br /><br />Tomorrow, Mr. Shell comes home and I get to run away from home and escape reality for a while when I go to the movies. Until then, please pray for my children. Ask that the Lord remain by their mother's side because I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that He is the only reason I have not hurt them tonight.<br /><br /><a href="http://s198.photobucket.com/albums/aa274/yboyd/Blog/?action=view&current=Shellysig.gif" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" src="http://i198.photobucket.com/albums/aa274/yboyd/Blog/Shellysig.gif" border="0" /></a>Smiling Shellyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08637671430642830420noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7860087547798283853.post-70347926103963606472009-08-25T20:19:00.005-05:002009-08-25T21:44:34.295-05:00Need My Cootie Shot!I wouldn't call myself a germaphobe.<br /><br />Honest, I wouldn't!<br /><br />If I had to define it, I would say that I have a healthy respect for staying far, <em>far</em> away from anyone carrying contagious diseases.<br /><br />My policy is: I did not go into the nursing profession and I don't get paid a doctors salary; if you are sick, stay away from me! I don't love you that much and I certainly don't want it!!<br /><br />Seriously, anyone who has ever thought they were doing the right thing by <del>dragging their sick ass</del> coming into work when they were clearly sick will tell you how I feel about this...<br /><br />If you are sick - if you even <em>think</em> that you might be contagious - <span style="font-size:180%;">STAY HOME!!</span> The company will still be here when you get better; in the meantime, I don't want your germs and I would appreciate it if you would keep your cooties to yourself!<br /><br />Don't come around me and, if you do, prepare to be disinfected! I will spray your ass with Lysol in a New York minute!!<br /><br />So, as you can see, I have a healthy respect for staying clear of people with germs.<br /><br />People ask me all the time what I do when my children get sick. The answer is, I keep them home from school and quickly take them to the doctor so that they can get well soon. When they are at home, they are in their beds (and yes, sometimes they are in my bed too), getting the necessary amount of rest so that they can hurry up and get well. I usually give them lots of fluids, chicken noodle soup and regular doses of whatever medication the doctor prescribed. When they are well enough to leave their sick bed, their bedding gets stripped and washed in hot water with Lysol and their rooms get disinfected.<br /><br />As you can see, I'm not such a germaphobe that I can't tend to my children when they're sick. I take care of them and give them love, but I do not hug and kiss all over them. They're sick and while I do love them that much, I still don't want to share. I'm just sayin'. ;)<br /><br />So, what led to the anxiety attack tonight??? Well, it goes like this:<br /><br /><ul><li>Last Monday - Sugar came home from school complaining that she wasn't feeling well.</li><li>Tuesday - she was very sick with a fever.</li><li><div align="left">I took her to the doctor and she was tested for Strep and the Flu (both negative). </div></li><li><div align="left">She was diagnosed as having a sinus infection.</div></li><li>Wednesday - she was still feverish and started coughing</li><li>Later that day, she started feeling better and she was back in school on Thursday.</li><li>Saturday - Spice started coughing (Sugar was still coughing, but hers was now a dry cough).</li><li>Sunday - Spice is coughing and has a high fever.</li><li>Monday - Spice stays home from school.</li><li>Mr Shell takes Spice to the doctor</li><li>She is diagnosed as having an upper respiratory infection BUT she wants to know who's going to take her to school (this is her first year in school and she doesn't understand that she can't go to school with a fever).</li><li>Today, Spice is back in school</li><li>Right as I get out of my car to head into work, my phone rings</li><li>It's Sugar calling from Middle School to tell me that she doesn't feel good. I ask her what's wrong and she says she feels like she's going to be sick. I gave her some medicine to help with the coughing this morning and she hadn't eaten breakfast so I figure that's probably what is making her feel ill and ask her to try to stick it out.</li><li>This afternoon, when I pick her up, she's still coughing and now she's sneezing too. </li><li>We go pick up Spice.</li><li>We head to Walgreens to get some more cough medicine, since nothing I have seems to be helping.</li><li>Meanwhile, she is sitting in the front seat, coughing and sneezing on me. Seriously!! I am trapped in the car with this girl and her germs, and she <u>for real</u> <strong>coughs.</strong> <strong>on.</strong> <strong>my.</strong> <strong>arm</strong>. </li><li>I am <em>completely</em> grossed out!!</li><li>And, as if that isn't bad enough, when I get back in the car from purchasing the cough syrup I feel her forehead and she has a fever!!!</li><li>We get home and I take her temperature: <span style="color:#ff0000;"><strong>102!</strong></span> </li></ul><p><span style="font-size:180%;">(AND I WAS IN THE CAR WITH HER WHILE SHE WAS COUGHING AND SNEEZING ALL OVER ME!!!)</span></p>I looked like <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3nOxdKcqC_I">Ace Ventura, Pet Detective, riding down the street with my head stuck out the window</a>... Okay, so maybe I am a <span style="font-size:78%;">little bit</span> of a germaphobe after all. :(<br /><br /><br />PLEASE, PEOPLE!!! The flu season is striking early this year and it's supposed to be a bad one. If you are sick - STAY HOME!!<br /><br />In the words of my youngest, "I'm for serious!"<br /><br /><a href="http://s198.photobucket.com/albums/aa274/yboyd/Blog/?action=view&current=Shellysig.gif" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" src="http://i198.photobucket.com/albums/aa274/yboyd/Blog/Shellysig.gif" border="0" /></a>Smiling Shellyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08637671430642830420noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7860087547798283853.post-53043792034572139082009-08-12T22:23:00.006-05:002009-10-29T19:36:36.629-05:00Keep your panties on!It’s funny how things change as you grow older. When I think back on my past, sunburn is not something that I have ever had to concern myself with.<br /><br />When I was young, I used to spend every waking hour of the Summer month’s in a pool and then, in my teenage years, not only would I stay in the pool but I would dry off by laying out for hours in the sun, and NONE of this was done with any of us wearing this stuff they have nowadays called sunscreen.<br /><br /><em>Sunscreen?? The heck you say. What on earth is that??<br /><br /></em>Now, as I <span style="font-size:78%;">tiptoe</span> up to the door of <span style="font-size:78%;">40</span>, I spend just a couple of hours in the water without this sunscreen stuff and I come out looking like a well cooked lobster. No wonder the dolphins all loved me so much, they thought I was food!<br /><br />If you’ve ever had sunburn before, I’m sure you know how horribly uncomfortable it can be; but for me, this was a first and let me just say…<span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;">OUCH!!!</span><br /><br />It was so painful, it even hurt to wear my clothes!<br /><br />Then about a week later, on top of still being terribly sensitive, you start to itch. And I'm not talking about a little, tiny, twitch of the nose type of itch, I'm talking about a tingling sensation that goes so deep, you feel like you're about to come out of your skin... and then, you do!<br /><br />So here it is, a little over a week after I had been deep fried, and I was sitting in my cubical at work - itching, scratching, burning, squirming and a whole bunch of other words that end with 'ing' - thinking to myself how much better I would feel if I could go into the ladies room and remove just one, single article of extremely uncomfortable clothing.<br /><br /><br />Now, it's not often that I will write about a book that I'm reading or listening to - except as a review; but as I sat there, trying to think of inventive ways to scratch my back without causing even more damage to my already acutely delicate skin, I was reminded of the book that I had just begun listening to on the way into work this morning...<br /><br /><br /><br />Her sister's had talked her into wearing a miracle bra and, while those things really do perform supernaturally amazing feats, anyone who's ever worn one knows how uncomfortable they can be, and that under-wire crap is a killer!<br /><br />After a little while she's had enough discomfort and decides that it's not worth it, so she heads towards the ladies room to remove the offending garment only to find that both the women's and men's rooms were closed. Spotting a patch of trees surrounding the property, in the distance, she goes behind one to discreetly remove the disagreeable article of clothing. No sooner had she unhooked the latch and removed it from under her clothing than she felt the blast.<br /><br />Sometime later, the policeman discovered her hidden under tree limbs and debris, caused from the jolt of the explosion, and about twenty feet away, in the branches of a magnolia tree, they found a miracle bra.<br /><br />HA! That would <em>so</em> be my luck!<br /><br />Not that I would ever be brazen enough to remove my undergarments while at work, mind you; but, I was so <em>extremely</em> uncomfortable that I must admit the thought of doing just that was very appealing to me.<br /><br />And then, I remembered this hilarious story and decided it would be best to hang in there until I could remove the worrisome apparel in the safety of my own home, where I wouldn't have to worry that some type of traumatic event would happen, causing said undergarment to end up over the head of what would most assuredly be either a very nice looking or high ranking man. *<em>sigh</em>*<br /><br />Note to self (<em>and anyone else who may be reading this</em>): Be sure to wear sunscreen in order to help prevent discomfort of this magnitude and possible embarrassment from surrendering to the very real temptations to remove any unmentionables in public places. I'm just sayin' - Keep your panties on! ;)<br /><br /><a href="http://s198.photobucket.com/albums/aa274/yboyd/Blog/?action=view&current=Shellysig.gif" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" src="http://i198.photobucket.com/albums/aa274/yboyd/Blog/Shellysig.gif" border="0" /></a>Smiling Shellyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08637671430642830420noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7860087547798283853.post-2990366789606381622009-08-12T19:16:00.007-05:002009-08-13T20:58:41.028-05:00Summer VacationThe Shell family had not had a vacation together in a couple of years, their children had never seen a beach, Summer was quickly coming to an end and this was going to be the youngest Shell's first year in school.<br /><br /><br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#ff0000;">Family Vacation 2009: Panama City, FL</span></strong><br /><br /><br /><br /><strong>Day 1 - Swimming with the dolphin's:</strong><br /><br /><br /><br />What an amazing experience this was; so amazing, in fact, that Mr. Shell jumped into the water with his cigarette's, lighter, car keys and cell phone in the pocket of his swimming trunks.<br /><br /><br /><br />The Shell family heads out for a two hour tour, to Shell Island, to go swimming with the dolphin's - cue theme song from Gilligan's Island.<br /><br /><br /><br />It's an overcast day, and we're in a covered pontoon boat..<br /><br /><br /><br />Did she think to pack the sunscreen lotion? Yep.<br /><br /><br /><br />Did she think to put it on? Nope.<br /><br /><br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#ff0000;">Note to self:</span></strong> Two things you need to remember the next time you go swimming with the dolphins: 1) Sunscreen is ineffective when it's sitting in the bottom of your purse - put the sunscreen on <em>before</em> you leave the hotel room. 2) Take Dramamine!<br /><br /><br /><br />Yeah, turns out that this turtle doesn't have sea legs; she's a land turtle. A land turtle that almost got sick on the dolphins - NOT FUN! For a minute there, I thought my snorkel was going to become a blow hole. Thank goodness the nausea didn't hit me until towards the end of our two hour tour - cue theme from Gilligan's Island once more.<br /><br /><br /><br />Second half of day 1: Rest and recuperation for momma Shell. Later that evening, after a shower and a nap, we walked around Pier Park in search of some good eats and some night time entertainment, ending the evening with a night time stroll along the beach.<br /><br /><br /><br /><strong>Day 2 - Day at the Beach:</strong><br /><br /><strong></strong><br /><br />It's been a long time since Shelly has been to the beach and even longer for Mr. Shell; so long in fact, that Mr. Shell got into the water with his new pack of cigarette's, his wallet and the car keys in the pocket of his swimming trunks - <em>again</em>.<br /><br /><br /><br />Who knew that the beauty of that water would move him to the point of complete distraction. At the beginning of this little trip of ours, he also had a tube of chap stick. We still don't know where that went; but, given his track record, I can only assume that it's somewhere in the bottom of the Gulf. Who knows, the dolphins may now be swimming around with kiss-ably soft snouts. ;)<br /><br /><br /><br />Did she remember the sunscreen? Yep.<br /><br /><br /><br />Did she remember to put it on? Yep.<br /><br /><br /><br />Did they go buy an umbrella so she wouldn't have to sit in direct sunlight? Yep.<br /><br /><br /><br />Did she stay under the shelter of the umbrella? Nope.<br /><br />Her children were calling for her to get in with them and the allure of that beautiful water was too great for her to ignore.<br /><br /><br /><br />Did the sunscreen help? Nope.<br /><br />On day one, she got fried like a chicken. On day two, she got boiled like a lobster. Basically, she got cooked to a crisp!<br /><p><strong>So, the moral of the story is...</strong></p><em><span style="color:#ff0000;">..for Mr. Shell:</span></em><br /><br />1) Maybe it's time to quit smoking.<br /><br />2) Be sure to empty all of your pockets before getting into the water.<br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;"><em>...for Mrs. Shell:</em><br /></span><br />1) You are not a sea turtle, a chicken or a lobster.<br /><br />2) Wear your sunscreen and take your medicine.<br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://s198.photobucket.com/albums/aa274/yboyd/Blog/?action=view&current=Shellysig.gif" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" src="http://i198.photobucket.com/albums/aa274/yboyd/Blog/Shellysig.gif" border="0" /></a>Smiling Shellyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08637671430642830420noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7860087547798283853.post-13930837622502902342009-08-10T21:37:00.006-05:002009-10-29T19:38:27.132-05:00Back-to-schoolMy oldest daughter is in the seventh grade this year. [GULP!]<br /><br />I clearly remember our drive, nine years ago, to our very first day of school. She was going into K-4 (also known as pre-kindergarten). She has a late birthday and missed the cut off for kindergarten by a month or two. Her father and I both felt that she was too smart to continue going to day care and that she would benefit most from an early start into a big girl school.<br /><br />Several weeks before that first day of school, everyone around kept telling me that I should take that day off, that it was going to be an emotional experience and to take tissues because I was going to cry.<br /><br />"No way," I would tell them all. "I've been dropping her off every morning since she was six weeks old. This is just another day of dropping her off in the morning on my way to work. I'll be fine."<br /><br />We woke up that morning and got her dressed for her first day of big girl school. She was so excited and looked so cute, how could I be sad on such a joyous occasion? I wouldn't; I was sure of it.<br /><br />We drove to school, talking about it the entire way: discussing all the wonderful things she was going to learn and how she was going to have so much fun and how she had to listen to her teacher and obey what they told her to do. All spirits were high and then... we hit the drive to the school and, like a boldar landing on my chest, my breath got swept away and the tears started stinging the backs of my eyes.<br /><br />This was my baby, she was going to big girl school, growing up right before my very eyes.<br /><br />Before the tears had time time to register and no sooner than I had come to a complete stop in the chosen parking space than my big girl threw off her seat belt, grabbed her back-pack, and swung open her door, oblivious to her mommy's emotional struggles, and says "Okay, bye mommy. I love you!"<br /><br />Fast forward to nine years later...<br /><br />Today was the first day of kindergarten for my youngest baby and I just knew I would a wreck. I took the day off of work and had tissues ready in the event of another dreaded emotional battle.<br /><br />I don't know if it was because of the difference in their personalities, the differences in their ages or the difference in the amount of drive time - almost an hour for Sugar, nine years ago, as opposed to about two minutes for Spice, today; but whatever the reason, I handled this transition much better than the first go around.<br /><br />One thing remained the same though....No sooner than I had come to a stop in the chosen space, my other baby threw off her seat belt, grabbed her back-pack, slung open the car door and said, "Okay, bye mommy. I love you!"<br /><br />*<em>sniff-sniff</em>*<br /><br />My girls -fearless, or maybe it's just as Spice told her daddy today, "I'm ascited!" ;)<br /><br /><a href="http://s198.photobucket.com/albums/aa274/yboyd/Blog/?action=view&current=Shellysig.gif" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" src="http://i198.photobucket.com/albums/aa274/yboyd/Blog/Shellysig.gif" border="0" /></a>Smiling Shellyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08637671430642830420noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7860087547798283853.post-50205180040712657662009-06-22T05:00:00.001-05:002009-06-22T05:00:22.253-05:00Our Secret To SuccessIt was early morning, not a cloud in the sky, with the highs for the day predicted to be in the hundreds, it was already humid. They sat waiting for the light to turn green when the daughter looked towards her mother and said, “That’s the kind of car I want when I get old enough to drive.”<br /><br />The mother glanced out her window and pointed to the four door sedan that was in front of the cute little convertible sports car she knew her child was referring to and replied, “What, that white one right there?”<br /><br />“Nooo, not that one; that one.” She said, calling her mother’s attention to the death trap behind it.<br /><br />“Well, you’ll have to wait until you’re able to afford that one on your own because your father and I aren’t going to get you a car like that.”<br /><br />“What kind of car will you get me?”<br /><br />“Something safe, with four doors and a roof, and something that you will be able to pay for with whatever job you have. I wasn’t given a car; my father helped me get one, but I had to pay for it out of my own money that’s what I plan on doing for you. I think it helps you better understand the value of a dollar and what it’s like to have to be responsible for something.”<br /><br />“Who will teach me how to drive?”<br /><br />“Your father or I will.”<br /><br />“I want you to teach me; daddy drives crazy.”<br /><br />“Daddy drives for a living every single day, I’m sure he would be just as good at teaching you to drive as I would.”<br /><br />“Well, that’s true; but you drive on the interstate every day.”<br /><br />“So does your daddy.” She said as she chuckled inwardly between the vast differences of driving a big rig across the U.S. and taking the interstate to come into town each day.<br /><br />“That’s true!” the girl exclaims, as if the thought that he actually drives every day is just now occurring to her “I never realized how much you and daddy have in common. I see now why you guys are in love.”<br /><br />Yes, that must be it!<br /><br />Today we celebrate thirteen years of marriage and I now know that the secret to our success stems from our all important commonality of driving down the interstate every day. ;)<br /><br />Happy Anniversary, Babe.<br /><br />I love you (<em>and not just because we both drive on the interstate every day either</em>) but I'm talkin' 'bout for real dough.<br /><br /><a href="http://s198.photobucket.com/albums/aa274/yboyd/Blog/?action=view&current=Shellysig.gif" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" src="http://i198.photobucket.com/albums/aa274/yboyd/Blog/Shellysig.gif" border="0" /></a>Smiling Shellyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08637671430642830420noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7860087547798283853.post-90208119049338934242009-06-16T17:22:00.005-05:002009-06-16T17:58:23.212-05:00Farm Town ShellyFor those of you who might not have noticed; I’ve been MIA in Blogville for a while.<br /><br />It seems my blogging brain has taken a leave of absence. There are things that happen almost daily that I laugh at and think what a good story it would make but I haven’t written in so long, it looks likes I may have forgotten how.<br /><br />Anyway, although I have been missing from Blog Land, I have still been around; so I thought I would take a minute to let you all know, <em>just in case you were interested</em>, what it is that is taking up all of my time these days – aside from the usual: Work, Kids, Pets, Family/Friends, Movies, Reading, Cleaning – Okay so, being honest, cleaning isn’t really playing THAT big of a part in this scenario (<span style="font-size:85%;">since I do my best to avoid it like the plague</span>) but, since I live with the human tornado, it is a small factor - et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. The list could go on for days…<br /><br />The newest addiction in my life (and I try to only allow myself one addiction at a time – not including my books) is my Farm.<br /><br />Yep, you read that right…I have a Farm. And, as it turns out, I’m a very good farmer! Who knew? A girl who can’t even keep her plastic plants alive is now a Virtuoso Farmer - and it must be so, because that’s what it tells me under the status bar, whenever I visit my Farm Town.<br /><br />Okay, okay, so if you want to get <em>technical</em> about it, it is only a ‘virtual’ farm; but still… to me - and probably several other thousands of people, like me, who are addicted to this Facebook application – it is very real.<br /><br />I’ve got all kinds of crops! Corn, Coffee, Pumpkins, Peas, Sunflowers, etc.<br /><br />I have a barn with hay in it and a variety of animals: horses, cows, narcoleptic pigs, little chicks, roosters, donkeys and llamas too – I’m hoping someone will gift me a turkey soon and I can’t wait ‘til I can get a bull!<br /><br />I’ve also got a cute little white house with several puppies and a few cats milling around outside. It’s surrounded by hedges and a beautiful river, and I’ve planted several flowers out front to add a splash of color.<br /><br />Now, I know what you’re thinking; so let me just go ahead and ease your mind…<br />No, I really don’t think my success at farming has anything to do with having OCD tendencies; although, I have discovered that ones ability to become an avid virtual farmer must be genetic.<br /><br />For instance, mom and I are both outstanding members of the Farm Town community - Nope, just because she has those very same tendencies towards OCD, I still don't think that has anything to do with how skilled we are in Farm Town ;) We really do our part to keep things thriving and beautiful, and we’re exceptional neighbors! Making sure to visit all of our surrounding farms to rake, weed and water whenever needed.<br /><br />In fact, I call mom the Farm Town Stalker. Every time I turn the computer on and go to my farm she’s already there, looking around and leaving me messages letting me know how many crops I have in need of harvesting. HA!<br /><br />In contrast, we have another family of farmers, whose names I won’t mention (<span style="font-size:85%;">uh-hum, Amy and Sandra</span>), who <del>really stink</del> aren't very good at this farming thing. They both have four little fields that they planted eons ago and then they never came back to care for them. Mom and I both keep doing our part to help maintain their farm, but it's all to no avail. No amount of water, weeding or raking is going to make those poor crops come back to life. :(<br /><br />Hmmm…that leads me to another thought: Maybe, if we could convince them to become better members of the Farm Town society, I would be able to devote more time to some of my other passions, such as blogging. I’m just sayin’ ;)<br /><br />Okay, so now that I’ve admitted yet another of my <del>many</del> few obsessions; I promise, I’ll try to do a better job of figuring out how to devote an equal amount of time to all of my <del>addictions</del> passions.<br /><br />Until I figure it out, I’m certainly open to your ideas and/or suggestions… And here's a little snapshot of what's been consuming my spare time :)<br /><br /><br /><p align="center"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5vMdsrnZ6M/SjgjGeGHypI/AAAAAAAAAXs/iCfP6prcA8I/s1600-h/FarmTown.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348063151567391378" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 250px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5vMdsrnZ6M/SjgjGeGHypI/AAAAAAAAAXs/iCfP6prcA8I/s400/FarmTown.jpg" border="0" /></a></p><br /><br /><a href="http://s198.photobucket.com/albums/aa274/yboyd/Blog/?action=view&current=Shellysig.gif" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" src="http://i198.photobucket.com/albums/aa274/yboyd/Blog/Shellysig.gif" border="0" /></a>Smiling Shellyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08637671430642830420noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7860087547798283853.post-2651948801977403492009-04-21T21:36:00.005-05:002009-04-21T23:24:05.408-05:00The Community of Blogville<div>When I first began blogging, I didn't know much about it. I thought it was just a creative way for me to share some of our family events with friends and family, not realizing that it would lead me to a whole'nother community; but, that is exactly what it has done.<br /><br />Through this little hobby of mine, I have met some amazing people.<br /><br />Through the stories that they have shared, I have met their husbands, their children and their pets. Together, we have celebrated anniversaries, birthdays and other important milestones that may occur.<br /><br />We have shared best parenting practices and what NOT to do's. ;)<br /><br />We have given each other support and advice.<br /><br />Through the laughter and tears, we have come to know each other and we have grown into this community that I like to call Blogville.<br /><br />In the Blogville community, there is one lady in particular with whom I felt an immediate connection. The stories she told and the comments that she made always made me smile.<br /><br />Shorty after I met her in Blogville, she went away on the trip of a lifetime.<br /><br />Here's a woman who had never traveled anywhere - she'd never been on a plane, she'd never been in a cab, and she'd never spent the night away from her family - and she gets invited to go on a month long trip across the Mediterranean.<br /><br />While she was away, taking pictures of the public facilities in honor of me and her good friend Kenny, I did some catching up on some of the past stories <a href="http://amahoney-amy.blogspot.com/">In My <em><span style="font-size:78%;">her</span></em> Life</a>.<br /><br />We had never met in 'real' life but I just knew if we ever did, we would quickly become the best of friends.<br /><br />Almost immediately after returning home from her trip, she had to have back surgery and ended up on bed rest for well over a month. Once she was recovered enough to have visitors, I took a little trip to her end of Crazyville and we spent the day - and well into a good part of the afternoon - on bed rest together.<br /></div><br /><p align="center"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5vMdsrnZ6M/Se6ZunvcLdI/AAAAAAAAAXk/C_elmhvHkdY/s1600-h/Bed+Rest+with+Amy.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327364435446869458" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g5vMdsrnZ6M/Se6ZunvcLdI/AAAAAAAAAXk/C_elmhvHkdY/s400/Bed+Rest+with+Amy.jpg" border="0" /></a></p><br /><div><br />My prediction of us quickly becoming the best of friends was confirmed the minute I pulled into her driveway, greeted by <del>Bo</del> Shannon and escorted to the front door where this picture was awaiting my arrival:<br /><br /><br /><p align="center"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_29b93k8FndA/SI_X3oprD7I/AAAAAAAABRI/60FrwQPWftQ/s1600-h/DSCF1160.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228635043205418930" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_29b93k8FndA/SI_X3oprD7I/AAAAAAAABRI/60FrwQPWftQ/s320/DSCF1160.JPG" border="0" /></a></p><br /><br />Since that <a href="http://shellystories.blogspot.com/2008/07/i-enjoyed-our-little-cute.html">first trip to Crazyville</a>, we have met up on several occasions and are indeed very good friends.<br /><br />Currently, she is on an extended break from Blogville and I don't know when she will return; but, since returning from the trip of a lifetime, her life has been one blow after another: beginning with her back surgery, then her mom's knee surgery, next was her dad's stroke, plus she has two teenage boys going through teenage issues, and now their precious Allie - who has also had health issues since her return - is being put to sleep this week.<br /><br />All this being said, I would like to take this moment to reach out to the Blogville community and ask that you lift her and her family up in your prayers during these difficult times and pray that the waters soon still so that they may enjoy some peace and serenity before the next storm arrives.<br /><br />I <3><br /><br /><div>need to talk. Ag Shame, My Skattie! ;)</div><br /><br /><div><a href="http://s198.photobucket.com/albums/aa274/yboyd/Blog/?action=view&current=Shellysig.gif" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" src="http://i198.photobucket.com/albums/aa274/yboyd/Blog/Shellysig.gif" border="0" /></a> </div></div>Smiling Shellyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08637671430642830420noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7860087547798283853.post-15683055748529193532009-04-17T23:30:00.000-05:002009-04-19T00:00:12.374-05:00MiscommunicationOn Thursday's I pick her up from the library after tutoring.<br /><br />As we were headed home, she is telling me all about her day and then she says that I have to be at the school at 7:15 tomorrow for early registration.<br /><br />"Why are you just now telling me this?" I asked her, hating it when she waits until the last minute to give me important information like this.<br /><br />"I just found out today" she replies.<br /><br />Friday morning, she runs downstairs at 6:30. "Momma!" She says, concerned that we have overslept.<br /><br />"Go get dressed, Sugar" I calmly tell her, as I roll out of the bed.<br /><br />She comes back down less than two minutes later, dressed and ready - <em>according to her</em>.<br /><br />"There's no way that you got ready that fast." I tell her, stunned at the speed she can actually go should the need arise.<br /><br />"uh-hu" she says, trying to make me believe that she got dressed, including bra and deodorant, brushed her hair AND her teeth in under two minutes.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:180%;">YEAH RIGHT!<br /></span><br />"Get back up stairs and finish getting ready." I tell her, "and brush your teeth."<br /><br />Deflated, she goes back upstairs and then I hear "There goes my bus right there."<br /><br />"Don't worry about it, Sugar, just get ready."<br /><br />"Okay," she replies, sounding relieved that she didn't get yelled at for missing her bus.<br /><br />"Didn't you tell me yesterday that I had to be at your school at 7:15 today?"<br /><br />"Yeah, tonight."<br /><br />And <em>THAT</em> my friends, is why I was late for work this morning.<br /><br /><strong>Note to parents of school aged children:</strong> When your child comes home the night before and tells you that you have to be at school at 7:15 the next day...be sure you discern if they mean AM or PM.<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://s198.photobucket.com/albums/aa274/yboyd/Blog/?action=view&current=Shellysig.gif" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" src="http://i198.photobucket.com/albums/aa274/yboyd/Blog/Shellysig.gif" border="0" /></a>Smiling Shellyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08637671430642830420noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7860087547798283853.post-3352685386001356862009-04-14T20:40:00.004-05:002009-04-14T21:38:27.633-05:00Happy Spring and Welcome Back!Hi all!<br /><br />Remember me?<br /><br /><br />Shelly. The one who gives stories from her shell??<br /><br /><br />Did you know that being a turtle has its disadvantages?<br /><br /><br />Oh yes, it's true!<br /><br /><br />Sure we seem to live a relaxed lifestyle, taking our time getting wherever it is that we are headed and our tough exterior leads people to believe that nothing can bother us. BUT, if someone or something comes along and rocks our world, tipping us onto our backs, we have a heck of a time figuring out how to get back on our feet again.<br /><br /><br />Work has been the windstorm that has me tipped over onto my back for these past few months. I finally recovered, but all that fast motion has given me a fright - it's still cold and scary out there - so I've burrowed down until the warmth of Spring beckons me, making me feel safe enough to come back out of my hole.<br /><br /><br />Meanwhile, plenty has been going on in my little corner of the world. Unfortunately, when things are stressful at work my creative juices get zapped.<br /><br /><br />Last weekend I took a little mini-vacation (<em>I hope everyone had a wonderful Easter break!!</em>)<br /><br /><br />On Friday we took Spice to get her shots for school - did you know that they have to have <strong>5 shots </strong>now before they can get into kindergarten?? <strong>[GULP!]</strong><br /><br /><br />Having only gone through this once before - six years ago, with Sugar, the world renown Drama Queen - I wasn't sure how well this 5 shots thing would go over with Spice, so we decided to give her two on this visit and we'll go back in a couple of months for the remaining three.<br /><br /><br />Well, let me just tell you....She was SUCH a trooper! She sat there and watched them give her the shots; she didn't move - not even a flinch - and she didn't cry.<br /><br /><br />I was <strong>SO VERY</strong> proud of her!<br /><br /><br />And Sugar....well, she was absolutely amazed! She didn't think it was even possible for someone to get a shot without crying at least ten minutes before they give it to you. ;)<br /><br /><br />With it being Good Friday, we had to get an early morning appointment because the offices were closing early.<br /><br /><br />Sugar wasn't very excited about getting up that early in the morning when she didn't have school... And after Sugar expressed her displeasure with a sticky note, Spice had to have one too...<br /><br /><br /><p align="center"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5vMdsrnZ6M/SeVGK7cfyuI/AAAAAAAAAXc/WkeV6bVPeus/s1600-h/DSCF1765.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324739288005331682" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5vMdsrnZ6M/SeVGK7cfyuI/AAAAAAAAAXc/WkeV6bVPeus/s400/DSCF1765.JPG" border="0" /></a></p><br /><br />I tell ya... Never a dull moment. :)<br /><br /><a href="http://s198.photobucket.com/albums/aa274/yboyd/Blog/?action=view&current=Shellysig.gif" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" src="http://i198.photobucket.com/albums/aa274/yboyd/Blog/Shellysig.gif" border="0" /></a>Smiling Shellyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08637671430642830420noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7860087547798283853.post-32528868629289718612009-03-26T22:01:00.006-05:002009-03-26T22:18:14.613-05:00Just for LaughsSometimes at work, time permitting, I like to lighten things up a little by finding a cute little funny to tack on to the bottom of my emails.<br /><div></div><br /><div>Today I was scrolling through the comics and came across one that made me laugh out loud -<em>Literally!</em></div><br /><br /><div>While I didn't think it was appropriate to share with the people I was sending my email to, it got me so tickled that I had to share it with someone; so, I emailed it to several of my close friends with a personal note of how it made me think of my poor kids - having me as their mother must be difficult. Bless their hearts!</div><br /><br /><div>Anyway... Since I'm not in the blogging boat alone, I thought I would share it with all of my blogging buddies as well - I'm sure you'll get as big a kick out of it as I did ;)</div><br /><br /><div>Enjoy!</div><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5vMdsrnZ6M/ScxDqOOauhI/AAAAAAAAAXU/Sxc00-P4z_E/s1600-h/ComicStrip.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317699652669848082" style="WIDTH: 505px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 158px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g5vMdsrnZ6M/ScxDqOOauhI/AAAAAAAAAXU/Sxc00-P4z_E/s400/ComicStrip.gif" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div><a href="http://s198.photobucket.com/albums/aa274/yboyd/Blog/?action=view&current=Shellysig.gif" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" src="http://i198.photobucket.com/albums/aa274/yboyd/Blog/Shellysig.gif" border="0" /></a></div>Smiling Shellyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08637671430642830420noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7860087547798283853.post-40673323462422840352009-03-24T19:43:00.005-05:002009-03-24T21:53:38.857-05:00Step Out of Your BoxFast food marketing.<br /><br />I'm not sure what the criteria is for a person to obtain such a position, but one would think that they would need to have the ability to think outside of the box; <em>right</em>?<br /><br /><br /><br />In my opinion, the one working for Taco Bell may need to BOX up his stuff and move on (<em><span style="font-size:85%;">Isn't their most recent slogan to "Think Outside the Bun"a play on the common phrase 'Think Outside of the Box'?</span></em>) In fact, I have an extra one - box, that is - that he can borrow.<br /><br />Here it is, right here...<br /><div align="center"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5vMdsrnZ6M/ScmXCz-DJ0I/AAAAAAAAAXE/IOXCRYsnSRk/s1600-h/DSCF1638.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316946909653575490" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g5vMdsrnZ6M/ScmXCz-DJ0I/AAAAAAAAAXE/IOXCRYsnSRk/s400/DSCF1638.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><br /><br /><p align="left">The one that they put my lunch in today.<br /><br />Yep, that's right. They gave me this GREAT BIG BOX for two little soft taco's and a chicken quesadillia.<br /><br />Now, I realize that this may seem like a lot of food to some; but <em>seriously</em>, was it deserving of an entire BOX??<br /><br />Every other time I've ever gone to Taco Bell, they've been able to fit my entire family's order into one of their little plastic bags; so why, today, did they put three itsy bitsy items in a BOX?<br /><br />I might feel differnly if the BOX they gave me were similar to the ones McDonald's uses for their Happy Meals; but <em>nooooooo</em>, they gave me a GREAT BIG <strong>OPEN</strong> BOX.<br /><br />So, not only did I look like a great big oinker, carrying in a <em>huge</em> BOX of food; but, the wind caused the napkins to start flying through the parking lot, so I was the great big, <em>littering</em> oinker, carrying in a huge BOX of food.<br /><br />Thanks Taco Bell! That's just the image I was going for. <a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g5vMdsrnZ6M/ScmaprAWveI/AAAAAAAAAXM/Vdh_zi5RUxg/s1600-h/That%27s+All+Folks.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316950875797110242" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 348px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g5vMdsrnZ6M/ScmaprAWveI/AAAAAAAAAXM/Vdh_zi5RUxg/s400/That%27s+All+Folks.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://s198.photobucket.com/albums/aa274/yboyd/Blog/?action=view&current=Shellysig.gif" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" src="http://i198.photobucket.com/albums/aa274/yboyd/Blog/Shellysig.gif" border="0" /></a> </p>Smiling Shellyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08637671430642830420noreply@blogger.com6