<?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-7417335097812251392</id><updated>2011-11-27T19:16:07.720-05:00</updated><category term='rude neighbors'/><category term='cancer'/><category term='florida'/><category term='home buying'/><category term='quilt'/><category term='sahm'/><category term='mortgage'/><category term='renter&apos;s rights'/><category term='Patch'/><category term='two jobs'/><category term='steve johnson'/><category term='Soap operas'/><category term='divorce'/><category term='cigarettes'/><category term='leaky bladder'/><category term='diapers'/><category term='love'/><category term='war'/><category term='rainy day'/><category term='Day&apos;s of our lives'/><title type='text'>PUT ON YOUR GLASSES SO YOU CAN HEAR ME</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://putonyourglassessoyoucanhearme.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7417335097812251392/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://putonyourglassessoyoucanhearme.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Shannon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04979203652805321792</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7q-n49IOuTk/SdGakldA2FI/AAAAAAAAAAM/PlMYQBEqZB0/S220/shanny+024.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>10</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7417335097812251392.post-268410159905658335</id><published>2009-04-10T09:33:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-10T09:35:09.232-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Be back soon...</title><content type='html'>My Gramma died thursday morning. Spent the day helping family. It's gonna be a very long weekend. Be back soon....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7417335097812251392-268410159905658335?l=putonyourglassessoyoucanhearme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://putonyourglassessoyoucanhearme.blogspot.com/feeds/268410159905658335/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://putonyourglassessoyoucanhearme.blogspot.com/2009/04/be-back-soon.html#comment-form' title='27 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7417335097812251392/posts/default/268410159905658335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7417335097812251392/posts/default/268410159905658335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://putonyourglassessoyoucanhearme.blogspot.com/2009/04/be-back-soon.html' title='Be back soon...'/><author><name>Shannon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04979203652805321792</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7q-n49IOuTk/SdGakldA2FI/AAAAAAAAAAM/PlMYQBEqZB0/S220/shanny+024.jpg'/></author><thr:total>27</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7417335097812251392.post-8882535858246011181</id><published>2009-04-07T23:22:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-07T23:36:14.760-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Engaged?</title><content type='html'>So my significant other told me the other night he'd marry me if I gained 150lbs.  Do you think he's trying to NOT get married to me?&lt;br /&gt;( He has a fantastic sense of humor, oh , and we've been together for going on 16 years...)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7417335097812251392-8882535858246011181?l=putonyourglassessoyoucanhearme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://putonyourglassessoyoucanhearme.blogspot.com/feeds/8882535858246011181/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://putonyourglassessoyoucanhearme.blogspot.com/2009/04/engaged.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7417335097812251392/posts/default/8882535858246011181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7417335097812251392/posts/default/8882535858246011181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://putonyourglassessoyoucanhearme.blogspot.com/2009/04/engaged.html' title='Engaged?'/><author><name>Shannon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04979203652805321792</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7q-n49IOuTk/SdGakldA2FI/AAAAAAAAAAM/PlMYQBEqZB0/S220/shanny+024.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7417335097812251392.post-8645399487550313701</id><published>2009-04-06T23:15:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-06T23:30:56.655-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I watched Bob the Builder for 5 hours...</title><content type='html'>Watched my cousins girls today while he ran errands.  The oldest just turned 4 yesterday. The other will be 3 in a few months. As a gift, some wonderful soul gave the birthday a girl a Bob the Builder &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;dvd&lt;/span&gt;.  She insisted upon watching it here , today.  So for 5 hours the same 4 episodes played over and over.  The same excitement every time. When I suggested maybe a different movie or show, it was shot down immediately. "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Noooooo&lt;/span&gt; , I wanna watch Bob" okay , okay so I let them watch it, over and over and over again.  Not exactly how I wanted to spend my day , but it could have been worse.&lt;br /&gt; I prefer &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;YoGabbaGabba&lt;/span&gt; if I am going to spend the day with the same show on. I kind of find it entertaining myself and don't mind sitting and watching it.&lt;br /&gt;What do YOU love/hate about your kids favorite shows?  Mine is only one and doesn't follow anything. She enjoys Sesame Street and Clifford but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;that's&lt;/span&gt; just cause i put them on in the am while I make her breakfast.  I can't wait to see what &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; in for in the coming years! (Please, please don't let her ever see or like BARNEY!!!!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7417335097812251392-8645399487550313701?l=putonyourglassessoyoucanhearme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://putonyourglassessoyoucanhearme.blogspot.com/feeds/8645399487550313701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://putonyourglassessoyoucanhearme.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-watched-bob-builder-for-5-hours.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7417335097812251392/posts/default/8645399487550313701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7417335097812251392/posts/default/8645399487550313701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://putonyourglassessoyoucanhearme.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-watched-bob-builder-for-5-hours.html' title='I watched Bob the Builder for 5 hours...'/><author><name>Shannon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04979203652805321792</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7q-n49IOuTk/SdGakldA2FI/AAAAAAAAAAM/PlMYQBEqZB0/S220/shanny+024.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7417335097812251392.post-7568665480350392232</id><published>2009-04-05T23:50:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-06T00:30:49.621-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='two jobs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mortgage'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='florida'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='home buying'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sahm'/><title type='text'>Move or stay for 30 years?...</title><content type='html'>We have a home in Florida. We don't want to live there. We don't want to sell it. We have a problem :( &lt;br /&gt;Home buyer woes.... it sucks.  We have a one year old, I stay at home with her. John works one full time and one part time job so we can have things this way. Neither of us wants me to work outside the home. Obviously at this point I would be working to pay someone to be watching Fiona when I am the best person for the job.  Mind you this is in no way saying that I have something against a mother who works whether she has to or not. Most woman return to their jobs after they have baby for numerous reasons. Many , because they actually held a position that they had leave from, and were probably making a very decent wage. others have no choice, they have to work so ends can continue to be met. others just prefer to have lives outside the home, and all of these are okay.  But for us, me being at home with our child makes the most sense.&lt;br /&gt;This leads us to our home dilemma. We could be living nearly bill free if we were to reside in our home in Florida.  It was a gift to us from john's great grandmother nearly 10 years ago.  We have a home that has no taxes , no mortgage , minimal upkeep and its less than a mile from the beach.  However it is 1500 miles away from family and friends.  There are hurricanes and tornado's. Snakes and palmetto bugs(roaches).  Sharks and gators.  Nascar fans and spring breakers. and the list goes on for reasons not to want to be there.  We don't really enjoy our home there. But for many reasons John will not sell it.  Even though, recession or not, the money could be used to buy , or put a substantial chunk down onto another home and give us the home we need and desire.&lt;br /&gt;I have been looking for 2 years now. Since the day we got up here in NY for property.  It all looks appealing , but when you realize that once you commit its yours forever unless you can pass it off to someone else , I think it makes us shit ourselves just a wee bit.  We have no debt. Which is worse than having too much in the eyes of a lender.  john was forced to get a credit card because we couldn't even look at a house without having credit history.  We always buy our vehicles used and with cash.  We pay our insurance outright every 6 months.  We have no mortgage or any bills other than monthly regulars like electric, water, gas, tv/cable/phone. and those disappear when you don't want them any more.   So we have been forced to use a credit card the past few years.  and of course just like most people in our situation , we will foreseeable never have enough money for a down payment on a home. We know about the programs for first time buyers. but you basically have to physically be living in the home for 7-10 years before moving or selling or you have to pay back all or get penalized for the money given to you for it. And frankly i don't know that he or i want to live here for 7-10 years forcibly.  &lt;br /&gt;  I don't know... I'm really tired right now so I have a million thoughts in my brain that won't shut up about things like this.  So I will leave things with this. John and I both turn 34 in may. The thought of it taking 30 years to pay something off makes me want to vomit. i will be 64 and still in the same place.  This is a real problem for me, for both of us actually.  So what are we to do?  I figure winning the lottery is always nice to hope for.  An anonymous donor , giving us our dream home , or at least the money to buy it.  Or maybe one day john or i will do a good deed and be repaid by a stranger. Or maybe John could take on job #3 as a part time stripper.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7417335097812251392-7568665480350392232?l=putonyourglassessoyoucanhearme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://putonyourglassessoyoucanhearme.blogspot.com/feeds/7568665480350392232/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://putonyourglassessoyoucanhearme.blogspot.com/2009/04/move-or-stay-for-30-years.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7417335097812251392/posts/default/7568665480350392232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7417335097812251392/posts/default/7568665480350392232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://putonyourglassessoyoucanhearme.blogspot.com/2009/04/move-or-stay-for-30-years.html' title='Move or stay for 30 years?...'/><author><name>Shannon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04979203652805321792</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7q-n49IOuTk/SdGakldA2FI/AAAAAAAAAAM/PlMYQBEqZB0/S220/shanny+024.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7417335097812251392.post-1415615721570705117</id><published>2009-04-03T08:39:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-03T08:39:00.282-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='divorce'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='war'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>Home again, Home again...</title><content type='html'>My cousin Jason will be here this morning with his two little girls for 2 weeks. Jason was more like a brother to my sister and I growing up , as he felt more like one of our family than his own. He is on leave from another tour (voluntary) during this war. He works in intelligence and most of his work he cannot speak about , and a lot of it , believe me , you don't want to know. He spends many countless days and nights alone in his own little room looking at endless codes and correspondence from those planning on hurting us here and those living here already with their plans in motion. His job does not make him happy, he does it for the continued safety of his girls and those he loves.&lt;br /&gt;He returned to his post in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Afghanistan&lt;/span&gt; after being home for a year and a half. He was married and had a baby girl, and realized that he was needed for our country and for his families continued security financially and emotionally. So he returned for a year and came home to his wife to father another little girl.  when the youngest was barely 1 he and his wife who was only 20 to his 31 decided to get divorced.  She was too young to be tied down with the whole wife and mother scenario and wanted to enjoy her youth.  This was a horrible &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;disappointment&lt;/span&gt; for the man whom risked his life because he felt he should to better his family.  And an even greater &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;disappointment&lt;/span&gt; to come home from a war and not being able to live with your little girls that mean everything to you.&lt;br /&gt;So Jason decided to change the direction of his life.  He knew that if he returned voluntarily for 18 months he would be done for good. Have enough money for a house for him and his daughters. And a chance to be there for his daughters.  So he left for Iraq to continue to search for those who try to harm us here.&lt;br /&gt;Two months after he left he calls home to speak with his daughters and he hears them call someone else daddy.  The girls mother got married to a man she met while Jason had been gone. Yeah within 2 months she was remarried and having the girls call another man daddy.  Claiming that daddy didn't want to be around them so she had to find them a new one.  Can you imagine how this would feel to a man away at war.  There to make life better for his kids.  She told his girls to call him Jason , not daddy any longer.   He was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;devastated&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;He has now been in for 14 months of the 18 he promised.  He will be picking up his girls in Texas from their mother and her new husband, and bringing them here to NY.  He is so proud of them. He wants nothing more than to have them with him.  And I feel so horrible that his immature ex has made this so hard for him.  This is not one sided. I have listened (heard) them on the phone discussing the children and their life.  And I can't believe just HOW immature she really is.   She is beautiful and sweet in her own way , but unbelievably selfish and naive.  You would think being a mother would make you change your way of life for a good reason. She thinks the kids take up too much of her time , and that she really wants to go out and do all the things she hasn't been able too.   I can't even comment on all the ridiculously immature things that she has said and done that I have heard first hand , let alone Jason's accounts of her behavior.&lt;br /&gt;Good grief I could go on forever.... but at least for the next few weeks he can be here with his "real" family. My parents and sister and I welcome him home from that awful place.  His beautiful , sweet little ones are such an enormous reflection of the Jason we remember as kids.  I want to thank him and everyone else that is away from those they love , doing things that I would/could never do.  I am thankful that he is coming home to visit safe and well and that its not us visiting him to put him to rest.  Life is precious and short and we need to take advantage of the time we have together.  So I will be enjoying my short and precious amount of time with Jason and his girls and I will be thankful that he chose to share his time with us.  We will always love and appreciate him and what he does for us without even asking.  Just like i appreciate what all the other men and women are doing for us there that don't even know all the people they are really affecting here back home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7417335097812251392-1415615721570705117?l=putonyourglassessoyoucanhearme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://putonyourglassessoyoucanhearme.blogspot.com/feeds/1415615721570705117/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://putonyourglassessoyoucanhearme.blogspot.com/2009/04/home-again-home-again.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7417335097812251392/posts/default/1415615721570705117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7417335097812251392/posts/default/1415615721570705117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://putonyourglassessoyoucanhearme.blogspot.com/2009/04/home-again-home-again.html' title='Home again, Home again...'/><author><name>Shannon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04979203652805321792</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7q-n49IOuTk/SdGakldA2FI/AAAAAAAAAAM/PlMYQBEqZB0/S220/shanny+024.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7417335097812251392.post-6970294781876099863</id><published>2009-04-02T08:28:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-02T18:45:14.780-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Soap operas'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='steve johnson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Day&apos;s of our lives'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Patch'/><title type='text'>Day's of Our Lives</title><content type='html'>And so is my painful addiction...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so into this stupid soap opera that I seriously do not know what I will do if they kill off or send away another key character. I mean I have been watching the damn thing since I was a kid. And frankly I am not sure why I still do , I just can't help myself. It is so unrealistic and overdone that I long for the ridiculousness of it. It makes my day. It comes at a perfect time in the afternoon for a nice hour rest. And good old DVR is there for me during emergencies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even sadder than my undying love for the show is my 1 year old daughter had to hear the show in the womb and has watched it with me every weekday since her birth. And no matter where she is or what she is doing , when she hears the theme music she stops and listens to it, like it's a fucking lullaby and that really frightens me. What have I done?! My baby girl is soothed by the most unlikely thing. My God , my addiction has finally affected someone else! OH the shame....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I am not alone with this. There are plenty of woman and MEN out there that are addicted to soaps. They all say that they would never watch that kind of thing because it's stupid , and while they are right , it is stupid, they can't resist the temptation of tuning in the next day for more bullshit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;John took a year off a few years ago just because he could , and since I would be at work when it would be on he began watching it. I think out of guilt at first, that he was at home relaxin every day , while I was still at a job. but very , very quickly and with much shame he got hooked on it and said it was almost harder than cigarettes to quit. Why oh why do I still watch it. My baby is one , she runs now and it's spring. The sun is shining and the weather is getting beautiful and yet I still get shaky when I think about being out away from the precious TV when its on. I mean I can watch it when its late at night and shes asleep , but sometimes I CAN'T wait till then. I don't smoke , drink or use drugs. But I actually think this is almost as unhealthy for me. Do they make soap operas in pill or liquid form? OOH maybe in "PATCH" form :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 290px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.daysofourlives.com/imagerepository/out_of_the_past_patch_johnson_patch_290x200.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7417335097812251392-6970294781876099863?l=putonyourglassessoyoucanhearme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://putonyourglassessoyoucanhearme.blogspot.com/feeds/6970294781876099863/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://putonyourglassessoyoucanhearme.blogspot.com/2009/04/days-of-our-lives.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7417335097812251392/posts/default/6970294781876099863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7417335097812251392/posts/default/6970294781876099863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://putonyourglassessoyoucanhearme.blogspot.com/2009/04/days-of-our-lives.html' title='Day&apos;s of Our Lives'/><author><name>Shannon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04979203652805321792</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7q-n49IOuTk/SdGakldA2FI/AAAAAAAAAAM/PlMYQBEqZB0/S220/shanny+024.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7417335097812251392.post-4433439923169611533</id><published>2009-04-01T12:50:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-02T18:45:57.637-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='quilt'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rainy day'/><title type='text'>Rainy</title><content type='html'>It's a very dark day. Rainy. Menacing. Not like I like my days to be typically. A thunder boom or two would be a nice change from the flakes and flurries. But all I can do is wait. Trying to get my latest quilt finished. Pictures to come. It shouldn't take too much longer.&lt;br /&gt;FiFi is sitting on the floor with a book chewing on the cord to her dog pull toy. I'm in my chair finishing up loose ends online and staring at the stack of quilt squares waiting to be cut and trimmed neatly so I can zip them up. Happy April 1st, hope your's is a warm one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7417335097812251392-4433439923169611533?l=putonyourglassessoyoucanhearme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://putonyourglassessoyoucanhearme.blogspot.com/feeds/4433439923169611533/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://putonyourglassessoyoucanhearme.blogspot.com/2009/04/rainy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7417335097812251392/posts/default/4433439923169611533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7417335097812251392/posts/default/4433439923169611533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://putonyourglassessoyoucanhearme.blogspot.com/2009/04/rainy.html' title='Rainy'/><author><name>Shannon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04979203652805321792</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7q-n49IOuTk/SdGakldA2FI/AAAAAAAAAAM/PlMYQBEqZB0/S220/shanny+024.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7417335097812251392.post-4278385831916336515</id><published>2009-04-01T08:00:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-02T18:48:17.917-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cigarettes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='renter&apos;s rights'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rude neighbors'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cancer'/><title type='text'>What are my rights?</title><content type='html'>We own our home in Florida , but we rent 1 half of a duplex here in NY. We had horrid nightmarish neighbors when we moved in, but of course didn't realize it until we were already moved in and the baby was due any day, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;soooooooooo&lt;/span&gt;. Fast forward a year and the landlord booted the neighbors for a myriad of reasons , none of which even had to do with any complaints from us , which is hilarious in it's own right. Anyhow, the new &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;tenants&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I refer to them as "The Frank's" as in Anne. As I wish they would hide away in the attic and not be seen or heard for fear of death by me. Now I am not a Nazi nor do I have hatred for the Jewish or any other , but all the same, it is what it is. I still wish they would hide in the attic or just &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;disappear&lt;/span&gt; by train in the night to somewhere that I could forget about them entirely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They are far, far worse than their &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;predecessors&lt;/span&gt;. And without even having to compare here are my biggest complaints. THE NOISE , MY GOD THE NOISE!!!!!!!! I said it for the last people and I'll say it again ' just because you can't hear us doesn't mean we can't hear you!!' We are &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;courteous&lt;/span&gt; people and would never purposefully make rude, destructive and deliberate noise and act like elephants or a circus! And we have a one year old! They have a child that is around 3 and is either being raised by wolves in daycare or has mental problems. When they are here which is (fortunately for us &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;sporadic&lt;/span&gt; for now) not often, but enough to make me scream. They allow? the youngster to scream incessantly, seriously, get a stop watch. And this is not acceptable behaviour for any child. I mean scream like an asshole. Not a tantrum , but full on wild animal with no language skills , which scares the hell out of me. The child runs from the attic to the cellar 236 times in the hour that they are here and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;that's&lt;/span&gt; just up the stairs. She jumps down the 3 flights one step at a time , like she weighs 350lbs. Runs up, jumps down thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud . My floor boards bounce with every thud. My glass of water quakes and my baby sure as hell ain't getting any naps with that going on. My cat thinks there is an earthquake or natural disaster happening and we just moved up here from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;florida&lt;/span&gt; after 10 years and she never seemed as scared during hurricanes or &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;tornado's&lt;/span&gt;, so do the math with that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And to make it worse they act as if the child isn't even there until they want something and then it's 3 people each one screaming louder than the other to try and hear and get their point across. GOOD GRIEF! And then they spank the child till the child screams another hour from that , and so on and so on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My only saving grace is the fact that I will not be offering to have the child over for a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;play date&lt;/span&gt;, they can't even tell that we have a child. It makes me feel good knowing that even at one she has manners even when she is out of control, she's never like that. And she's had her share of meltdowns. I am very appreciative of the fact that they have only been in and out for almost a month. I think they only spent the night 2 times, and no, I don't care where they go or where they have been, I'm just thankful they are not here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So they are animals. And unfortunately they are selfish uneducated animals at that. The man looks like he breaks windows with his face for a living and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;that's&lt;/span&gt; unfortunate on a man who can't be more than 24. Seriously he must be in bar brawls nightly by the looks of him, the teeth( or lack thereof) the skin, the attitude the list goes on. And she , for lack of a better word or description , looks like she hasn't had any food of nutritional value her entire life. Lack of iron is an understatement. she has tattoos on her neck and I watched her place diet &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;pepsi&lt;/span&gt; into the child's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;sippy&lt;/span&gt; cup. And this leads me to the biggest dilemma...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...the smoking. Neither of them can go for 2 minutes without hacking up a cancer riddled lung or lighting another cigarette. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Every time&lt;/span&gt; they get into or out of their vehicle with their small child , they have cigarettes lit and all the windows up. They go into the house smoking and instantly fill the place with a pack of cigarettes a piece within the hour they are here. Besides the fact that they are giving their child lung cancer and god knows what other problems, the cellars to our places are open at the top. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;Sooooo&lt;/span&gt; with every exhale they produce enough smoke to fill their side of the house and it gets sucked into the cold air return and circulated through the cellar and sucked up into our furnace. And then it fills our side with the vile cancerous air that we try so hard to avoid. I mean within minutes of them entering the house , they smoke so &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;incessantly&lt;/span&gt; that it fills our place immediately like they are in our side! My child was hospitalized a few days after &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;Christmas&lt;/span&gt; with the worst case &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;scenario&lt;/span&gt; RSV. She had a fever of 105 for days and they &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;couldn't&lt;/span&gt; get it down and she wasn't breathing well on her own. We work hard to not expose her to situations where she would be around air like that, or other pollutants that could &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;agitate&lt;/span&gt; her young precious lungs. So I cannot imagine a parent purposely smoking while in a closed environment with their child. Or smoking around them at all!! Who is so stupid nowadays as to really think that they will not be the one to get cancer or that the child doesn't smoke so they aren't effected.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what can I do? Can I call my landlord and tell him that the neighbors should have their child taken away because they are knowingly causing the child harm by exposing her to smoke that she doesn't have a choice or a way of getting away from? No , because she's not my kid. But they are exposing MY child to it and SHE is my responsibility. Is it the responsibility of my landlord to provide clean safe air for my child and us? Or does he not have the right to ask the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;tenants&lt;/span&gt; to not smoke inside the place? I am in a spot because John and I are willing to move out tomorrow if we have to keep breathing in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;their&lt;/span&gt; foulness. I don't know what to do about this , but I know I have to do something. We will not be living in this place forever anyways but is it worth living here another day if I'm putting one of us at risk for something we could have prevented by leaving now?&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 369px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.cartoonstock.com/lowres/vsh0421l.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7417335097812251392-4278385831916336515?l=putonyourglassessoyoucanhearme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://putonyourglassessoyoucanhearme.blogspot.com/feeds/4278385831916336515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://putonyourglassessoyoucanhearme.blogspot.com/2009/04/what-are-my-rights.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7417335097812251392/posts/default/4278385831916336515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7417335097812251392/posts/default/4278385831916336515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://putonyourglassessoyoucanhearme.blogspot.com/2009/04/what-are-my-rights.html' title='What are my rights?'/><author><name>Shannon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04979203652805321792</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7q-n49IOuTk/SdGakldA2FI/AAAAAAAAAAM/PlMYQBEqZB0/S220/shanny+024.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7417335097812251392.post-2193723007032509758</id><published>2009-03-31T11:44:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-02T18:48:46.205-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='leaky bladder'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='diapers'/><title type='text'>Leaks</title><content type='html'>I'm not really sure who leaks more? My one year olds diapers or me. It wasn't so bad in the beginning for either of us, so why, one year later are we both leaking like mad? I have been pondering this for the past few months and really can't come up with any real reasons except for maybe laziness?! Have the diapers just said "okay, I'm gonna work hard for the first 3 changes today , but forget about the 4-6th!" And has my bladder just said "look bitch , you think you're tired? I'm exhausted , and your lucky I don't tell colon to give up too."&lt;br /&gt;So, am I to assume I am lucky that we are just leaking pee? Because if we were both shitting our pants I guess I would really have something to complain about.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7417335097812251392-2193723007032509758?l=putonyourglassessoyoucanhearme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://putonyourglassessoyoucanhearme.blogspot.com/feeds/2193723007032509758/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://putonyourglassessoyoucanhearme.blogspot.com/2009/03/leaks.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7417335097812251392/posts/default/2193723007032509758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7417335097812251392/posts/default/2193723007032509758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://putonyourglassessoyoucanhearme.blogspot.com/2009/03/leaks.html' title='Leaks'/><author><name>Shannon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04979203652805321792</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7q-n49IOuTk/SdGakldA2FI/AAAAAAAAAAM/PlMYQBEqZB0/S220/shanny+024.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7417335097812251392.post-5387189792682939302</id><published>2009-03-30T23:53:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T23:56:56.344-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Listen up</title><content type='html'>I have decided to rant and rave on here about stuff I love, like, hate and hate that I love. So go ahead and put on your glasses so you can hear me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7417335097812251392-5387189792682939302?l=putonyourglassessoyoucanhearme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://putonyourglassessoyoucanhearme.blogspot.com/feeds/5387189792682939302/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://putonyourglassessoyoucanhearme.blogspot.com/2009/03/listen-up.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7417335097812251392/posts/default/5387189792682939302'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7417335097812251392/posts/default/5387189792682939302'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://putonyourglassessoyoucanhearme.blogspot.com/2009/03/listen-up.html' title='Listen up'/><author><name>Shannon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04979203652805321792</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7q-n49IOuTk/SdGakldA2FI/AAAAAAAAAAM/PlMYQBEqZB0/S220/shanny+024.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
