<?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-811123212028912969</id><updated>2011-10-07T18:14:15.131-04:00</updated><category term='prayer; children'/><category term='Reading'/><category term='shaving legs for the first time.'/><category term='school projects'/><category term='finances'/><category term='the lake'/><category term='Revolution in our Church'/><category term='books'/><category term='stuff'/><category term='curfews'/><category term='treats'/><category term='thanksgiving'/><category term='Lighten the load'/><category term='twins'/><category term='God&apos;s strength in hard times.'/><category term='house buying'/><category term='library'/><category term='Family; living together'/><category term='tubing the salt river'/><category term='missions trip'/><category term='church camp'/><category term='sauces'/><category term='prayer cover'/><category term='summer'/><category term='James Dobson'/><category term='cell phones'/><category term='Dads'/><category term='sleepovers'/><category term='Calm'/><category term='`'/><category term='retreats'/><category term='sales'/><category term='our boys'/><category term='sleeping late'/><category term='family'/><category term='mother&apos;s instinct'/><category term='Faith'/><category term='toddlers'/><category term='rearranging schedules'/><category term='tacos'/><category term='swine flu'/><category term='Redonna cheese crisp'/><category term='trying'/><category term='balance'/><category term='rudeness'/><category term='Chicken Soup for the Soul'/><category term='thermometers'/><category term='movie ratings'/><category term='sleepless nights'/><category term='accidents'/><category term='please and thank you'/><category term='peace'/><category term='sick kids'/><category term='living your passion'/><category term='end of school'/><category term='schedules'/><category term='Christmas'/><category term='drop in and say hi'/><category term='beauty pageants'/><category term='Hebrews 11'/><category term='memory'/><category term='Playtime'/><category term='decisions'/><category term='Cooperisms'/><category term='manners'/><category term='crazies'/><category term='delusions of Grandeur'/><category term='Cop a squat'/><category term='Stormie O&apos;Martian'/><category term='teenage driving'/><category term='Father&apos;s day'/><category term='Dave Ramsey'/><category term='Baseball'/><category term='debates and the chore jar'/><category term='holidays'/><category term='routines'/><category term='Phil Wing Band'/><category term='scratching'/><category term='Routine'/><category term='wants'/><category term='sick'/><category term='fun'/><category term='home made laundry soap'/><category term='travel ball'/><category term='juggling'/><category term='letting go'/><category term='Psalm 46:10'/><category term='Velocity summer camp'/><category term='Aspberger&apos;s Syndrome'/><category term='graduation parties; food'/><category term='birthday parties'/><category term='the older the better'/><category term='moving'/><category term='rules'/><category term='wash your hands'/><category term='economize'/><category term='burt&apos;s bees'/><category term='watch your kids around water'/><category term='sleeping in'/><category term='mosquitos'/><category term='crying'/><category term='biting'/><category term='losing weight'/><category term='losing child at the park'/><category term='guilt'/><category term='talent show'/><category term='Harry Potter'/><category term='God&apos;s peace'/><category term='cup of coffee'/><category term='Chicas por Jesus'/><category term='Touched out'/><category term='mouthy kids'/><category term='managing life'/><category term='Hello from afar'/><category term='cheating financially'/><category term='fundraising'/><category term='Saturdays with Stella'/><category term='Jentezen Franklin'/><category term='staples and stitches'/><category term='quiet moments'/><category term='strong willed'/><category term='Fridays'/><category term='saving money'/><category term='memories'/><category term='twilight and bakugan'/><category term='carmel corn'/><category term='summer fighting'/><category term='momma space'/><category term='God&apos;s grace'/><category term='eggies'/><category term='Nora Roberts'/><category term='Stealing Home'/><category term='Do Hard Things'/><category term='running late'/><category term='free stuff'/><category term='happiness'/><category term='Ideal Mother&apos;s Day'/><category term='great friends'/><category term='prayer'/><category term='worry'/><category term='bedtimes'/><category term='drowning'/><category term='teenage drivers'/><category term='summer reading'/><category term='children'/><category term='teachers'/><category term='covet'/><category term='youth group'/><category term='reach out'/><category term='random'/><category term='kids school'/><category term='Christmas picture'/><category term='kids fighting with parents'/><category term='no lunches'/><category term='Christmas tree'/><category term='tantrums'/><category term='compassion'/><category term='praying'/><category term='fighting'/><category term='black friday'/><category term='teenagers'/><category term='chore jar'/><category term='waffles.'/><category term='dreams'/><category term='smiles'/><category term='quiet'/><category term='Kool-Aid mom'/><category term='Cleaning'/><category term='budgets'/><category term='discipline'/><category term='eating'/><category term='Allsion Pittman'/><category term='volunteering'/><category term='weekends.'/><category term='free movies'/><category term='Kevin Lehman'/><category term='baptism.'/><category term='fear'/><category term='school bedtimes'/><category term='backpacks'/><category term='Mother&apos;s Day'/><title type='text'>Mom's Sweet Spot</title><subtitle type='html'>"She is clothed in strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come..."Prov. 31:25

As a mother of four, including a set of twins, my life is chaos.  You have to find your sweet spot, not perfect, just sweet.  Think about it, life is pretty hilarious.  Come laugh with me.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>255</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-3123547585043634848</id><published>2010-06-04T06:38:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-04T06:48:07.610-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='God&apos;s peace'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='toddlers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='quiet moments'/><title type='text'>Morning Mists</title><content type='html'>As I sit here and look into our backyard, a mist is lifting off the lake.  A lone duck swims by.  It's almost creepy until you just take a deep breath and realize the peace in the moment.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;How many moments of pure peace do we pass up every day in our hectic lives.  From what I remember, and the memories are very fuzzy, when the twins were babies, we had no peace.  Three in diapers, one in preschool, life was crazy.  I literally have no physical memory of the first two years of their lives.  I have snippets......going to the pediatrician, the triple stroller and the grocery store, the endless diaper changes.  Spending ten dollars on one bottle, because you did not have to hold it, it had a tube and you could just stick it into the baby seat and put the nipple in their little mouths and move on until burpee time.  I bought four of them and thought I spent way too much money.  But you cannot put a price on your sanity, or what little there is left of it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I remember crying for a month when the twins gave up naps.  I used to get so much done during nap time.  I once painted a bathroom during nap time.  I loved nap time.  Nap time was for running around like a crazy person getting all the stuff done you cannot do with three toddlers hanging around.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, as you wake up this morning to kiddie chaos, where will you find your moment of peace?  Do you wake up early to drink coffee by yourself?  Read your bible?  Watch a duck swim by?  Or a couple of Canadian geese with the goslings (six of them) swim by, dad in front, momma in the back.  Just saw that by the way.  Find a way to find five minutes.  Take a deep breath, find your happy place, and then you can face the rest of the day.  There is nothing wrong with hiding in your closet for five minutes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Where will you find your moment of peace today?  Share the quiet.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-3123547585043634848?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/3123547585043634848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=3123547585043634848' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/3123547585043634848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/3123547585043634848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2010/06/morning-mists.html' title='Morning Mists'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-9191354810928161980</id><published>2010-06-01T06:20:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-01T06:31:08.791-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Memorial Day Weekend</title><content type='html'>As I sit here in my barbeque hangover, way too much steak, I wonder what every one else did this weekend.  Mine was packed.  My favorite was when our house was invaded Sunday night by the high school small groups.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All year long, I have been the leader for the high school girls small group.  That is what our church calls our bible studies.  I have been humbled by their faith.  We did a purity study and it was amazing.  The boys did a study too.  They have been incredibly moved.  We do have a rule that what is said in small groups, stays in small groups, so I don't know everything they talked about, but I do know they watch Fineus and Ferb.  A great show by the way.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;They all came over and swam in the lake, made smores and hung out.  Love it.  Even with the mosquitos, we had a blast.  The boys spent the night and Taco Bell was involved in the middle of the night, but they had fun.  I have done a million towels in the washer and dryer and all the swim suits.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All of this was worth it to watch these kids grow in their faith in God.  Awesome weekend.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What did you burn on the grill this weekend?  Share the love.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-9191354810928161980?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/9191354810928161980/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=9191354810928161980' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/9191354810928161980'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/9191354810928161980'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2010/06/memorial-day-weekend.html' title='Memorial Day Weekend'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-3955126743382224288</id><published>2010-05-26T06:18:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-26T06:43:51.082-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Living on a lake</title><content type='html'>Our new house is on a small subdivision lake.  The kind with paddle boats and little docks.  I love it.  Tatum has  turned out to be our little water baby.  Every day after school, she is swimming with her friends.  They put on life vests and swim back and forth from Emily's house to our house.  Or beach to beach if you will.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We looked long and hard for house.  We prayed even harder.  Our church prayed.  Our family and friends prayed.  At times I was so discouraged and downtrodden.  The lowest of the lows.  But through it all, even the tears, I trusted God.  I prayed for the house He wanted for us.  I prayed that He would put us where He needed us to be.  We looked at nicer houses.  We looked at bigger houses. We put in offers and counter offers and everything in between.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In the end, we got the disco house and we love it.  As I sit on my deck drinking coffee or down at the beach watching the kids swim, I know we are exactly where we need to be.  Where God wants us to be.  I have a peace in my heart that I have never had before.  I love it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;How many times do we forget to wait on God and try to handle things ourselves?  How's that working for us?  Not good usually.  Waiting on God is the hardest thing I have ever done and the most rewarding.  Patience is not my strong point, but I am finally getting it.  God in charge of your life is humbling and life changing and hard.  God's time is not our time.  But had I not waited on Him, I would not have this house.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So what are you putting in God's hands today?  Do you have the strength to leave it there????&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-3955126743382224288?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/3955126743382224288/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=3955126743382224288' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/3955126743382224288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/3955126743382224288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2010/05/living-on-lake.html' title='Living on a lake'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-167111527596019221</id><published>2010-05-24T06:05:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-24T06:23:36.035-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Five Staples later....</title><content type='html'>So, as you all know, we bought a foreclosed house that needed a lot of work.  The backyard is on a hill and there is this waterfall thing that we could not figure out how to work.  My brother-in-law looked at it a different way and got it going on Saturday.  Hooray!  We were all down there cleaning it out and rearranging rocks so it would flow properly.  Then, as I stepped on our little landing, where we had just placed a small, wrought iron and tile mosaic table, one of the tiles on the landing tipped.  The sand had eroded away underneath it.  I fell down, my head whipped back and I cracked it on the very sturdy small table.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I saw stars, little flying birdies, and grabbed the back of my head.  I had scraped the back of my calf on the way down too.  Landed pretty hard.  In all the times I have cracked my head, I have never cracked it open, until now.  Take my hand away from the back of my head and it is covered in blood.  Head wounds bleed a LOT.  It can be scary.  Tatum, my daughter, is already crying and her cousin is trying to be brave and hug her.  I tell them I am fine.  My mother in law gets me a wet rag, Scott gets me a bag of ice and I decide we better get to urgent care.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When you crack your head open, you always feel like your head is going to explode, but this was so painful.  We get to urgent care, they are not sure if they want to take a head wound, did I pass out?  No?  Okay, come on back.  The doctor has a thick accent and asks me what happened.  I tell him we were down on the beach.  Beach?  Like I have lost my mind or my brains were seeping out.  I explain that we live on a lake and we have a beach.  I didn't think I was at the ocean or anything.  He then tells me he is going to put in staples.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He also explains that it hurts more to numb the area than to just staple away.  Okay, after five staples, and the first one "not sitting right" so it was taken out and put back in.  I say, next time, numb away.  Scott has bruises where I squeezed his leg as the staples were going in, it was not fun.  I also was crying my eyes out and since I was laying on my side, snot and tears were sliding down my face.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Prescriptions for motrin and anti-biotics and instructions that if I start vomitting or seeing double to take me to the hospital and we are on our way home.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I get the staples out on Thursday, all I wanted to do was clean out the waterfall and make it look nice.  Yucko.  Oh well, better me than one of my kids.  My head is still ringing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Any trips to the urgent care or ER for you this weekend??  Share the love and pass the tylenol.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-167111527596019221?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/167111527596019221/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=167111527596019221' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/167111527596019221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/167111527596019221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2010/05/five-staples-later.html' title='Five Staples later....'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-6394622961898389478</id><published>2010-05-21T05:58:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-21T06:13:20.070-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Man Trip</title><content type='html'>So my baby, I should say my first baby, who just turned sixteen is on a man trip.  Six friends, all Christians, going out to explore the "mitten" that is Michigan.  They leave this morning, are headed across the state and then they are doing the perimeter of the mitten.  Home on Sunday.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have to say, I was not crazy about this trip.  Six boys, ages 22-16 in two cars, exploring Michigan together.  Most would think it was a drinking, girl chasing trip.  Most would be wrong.  If I even had a doubt, which I do not, something that happened a couple of weeks ago would have squashed it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The trip involves one of Tyler's small groups.  That is our church's name for bible study.  Tyler is involved in two and usually is reading  another on the side.  It humbles me how much he is on fire for God.  They were meeting in our basement and I went downstairs to see if they needed snacks.  I figured they would be mostly goofing off with a little bible stuff thrown in for good measure.  I was wrong.  They were diving into the book of Revelation and discussing and arguing points and really getting into the Word.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;These are the same kids that went for a Pond run when it was 45 degrees out.  A pond run involves only boys, in the middle of the night, and they swim and they don't wear suits.  This is a part of male bonding I don't even pretend to understand.  Much like peeing in the woods together and other uniquely male things I don't want to discuss that involve noises from various body parts.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, my kid is off on his first real man trip.  The company he is keeping is awesome, so I guess I am okay with this.  I am just remembering when we traded his pacifiers for a batmobile.  So grown up.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyone in your house taking a trip and growing up?  Share the love.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-6394622961898389478?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/6394622961898389478/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=6394622961898389478' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/6394622961898389478'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/6394622961898389478'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2010/05/man-trip.html' title='Man Trip'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-763270353358251770</id><published>2010-05-19T06:07:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-19T06:22:54.295-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It's starting.....</title><content type='html'>We already have one teenage boy who insists on showering in the morning.  Now we have two.  Now my daughter wants to shower in the morning.  That would be five of us showering in the morning.  Oh the humanity.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have to shower in the morning, I have short hair.  Those of us with short hair know that you wake up looking very scary.  I call it the curse of the short hair.  Spikes are everywhere followed by flat spots, it truly is lovely.  My husband has always showered in the mornings.  Let's face it, the older we get, the more we need something to wake us up in the morning.  Added to that fact is that we are now walking at 5:00 a.m. every morning and we need to wash off the funk.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Grant has recently discovered girls actually exist in junior high and started taking showers every morning.  Between that and the Axe cologne/deodorant, he smells quite nice.  Tatum is hitting that sixth grade mark where she wants to shave her legs (I let her), wear make-up (light mascara only) and do her hair.  The hair for a tweenage girl is a little nuts.  Could be great, could be horrible, you never know.  Go figure.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So now, the quest has become who can shower first and how much hot water is left.  Yucko.  I usually shower last and to a tepidness I have come to embrace.  I just cannot shave my legs because of the goosebumps.  The resulting big foot sightings are not helpful.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When Cooper discovers girls, and because he has aspberger's, this may never happen, we are in trouble.  Six showers in the morning.  This could get ugly.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Who is hogging all the hot water at your house?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-763270353358251770?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/763270353358251770/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=763270353358251770' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/763270353358251770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/763270353358251770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2010/05/its-starting.html' title='It&apos;s starting.....'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-2294094922460012992</id><published>2010-05-18T05:47:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-18T05:58:04.865-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Thirteen year old boys..</title><content type='html'>Okay, I have posted my angst at the teenage boy phenomenon.  The testosterone, the man hair sprouting up, all those things.  I have gone through this with one of my children.  Here comes the second one.  All I can say is WHY?  Why would you do your assignments and not turn them in?  Why would you talk back about everything.  I mean everything, from ketchup to not having his older brother's curfew.  Why would you punch a wall and fracture your hand?&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Which just happened over the weekend.  My oldest was going to prom and they starting scrapping at each other and I called a stop to it so the suit would not get messed up.  Older brother got in the last hit.  Apparently I did not yell enough at the older one.  Never mind that the girl and her mother were driving up the street, to our home,  to take pictures.  Never mind that it's my first prom as a mom.  Never mind that the thirteen year old started it all by taking the sunglasses that perfected the "look" for prom.  It's still my fault that Grant punched a wall because I did not do anything about Tyler hitting him.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I really want to get inside his mind sometimes and do some spring cleaning.  The stuff that comes out of his mouth sometimes.  It's my fault his hand is broken.......Hmmmmmm, I did not punch a wall in frustration.  He did.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So now, after urgent care and the chaos, we must go to the orthopedic surgeon to get a cast.  He has a boxer's fracture of the fifth knuckle.  Fabulous.  Love it.  No more baseball, no more track.  Period.  The end.  No more sports until it is healed.  Now I will have to sit on him to allow himself to heal.  Great.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Who's punched what in your world?  Share the fisticuffs.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-2294094922460012992?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/2294094922460012992/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=2294094922460012992' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/2294094922460012992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/2294094922460012992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2010/05/thirteen-year-old-boys.html' title='Thirteen year old boys..'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-8999253675415581342</id><published>2010-05-17T06:03:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-17T06:10:32.825-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunburn, oh the agony</title><content type='html'>Okay, so I am foolish.  I used to live in Arizona, so when I am out working in the yard in Michigan, for some unknown reason, I do not think to put on sunscreen.  The sun just is not that intense.  Or so I think.  I am horribly wrong by the way.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Our new house is on a lake.  You have to rake algae out of the lake, in addition to leaves, crawdads, and various other stuff.  We also had to weed the beach.  So after church yesterday, I donned my bathing suit top and board shorts and off to rake I went.  The whole family was working in the yard, but I actually got into the water and raked.  Three hours worth.  From one in the afternoon to four in the afternoon.  Then I took a shower and noticed a little bit of burn.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This "little" bit of burn progressed into a flaming wall of ouchiness on my shoulders.  The thought of wearing a bra today may send me over the edge.  I have to go to work, so I have to wear a bra, but it's not going to be a fun day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Why do I do this?  Why not just put on sunscreen?  Why does the sun in Michigan fool me, one time, every summer?  Why?  I do not know, but I am sure I will do it again next year.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Pass the aloe vera gel and avoid patting me on the back today.  Thanks.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-8999253675415581342?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/8999253675415581342/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=8999253675415581342' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/8999253675415581342'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/8999253675415581342'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2010/05/sunburn-oh-agony.html' title='Sunburn, oh the agony'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-4725016851503675793</id><published>2010-05-14T06:01:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-14T06:19:18.219-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Teenagers</title><content type='html'>I am a youth leader at our church.  Technically in "charge" of high school girls, but I will love on any of those kids.  Our youth group runs the gamut of new believers to kid with a faith so huge, I am humbled.  I never set out to be a leader, but God usually puts you where He needs you, so here I am.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Teenagers today face a world with no moral compass.  None, except their parents.  And a lot of parents want to be their friend, not their parent, with horrifying results.  Again, no moral compass.  We are upon prom season and graduation party season.  Only one of my children is going to prom and it is as a good friend, not a boyfriend/girlfriend situation, so I am okay with that.  Tyler's faith and walk with God is so amazing to me, that even if he was going as boyfriend/girlfriend, I would not be worried.  That is not me putting my head in the sand, that is me being fully involved in my child's life.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Knowing his friends, where he stands, what he's doing, all those things lead his father and I to trust him.  It is not as if he has never messed up, he has and will again, but he is working on his faith on a daily basis and has it more together at 16 than I did at 35.  Again, I am humbled.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Back to Prom.  Mothers of girls, please, please, please, go shopping with your daughter for her dress.  Please do not encourage her to buy the "sexiest one".  Please do not encourage her to go bra-less.  Please do not give her permission to stay out all night.  If you are going to do all of these things and your daughter's dress has more holes in than swiss cheese, don't be shocked by anything that happens that night.  Be a parent, not a friend. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mothers of boys, talk about honor and respecting girls.  Talk to them about the fact that the girl they are going out with is someone's daughter, someone's sister and a child of God.  Do not get them a hotel room for the night.  Send a message of respect and principles to your son and expect great things of him.  Be a parent and not a friend. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am telling you, by someone who is around teenagers all the time and twice on Sundays, these kids are crying out for guidance.  Crying out for rules and regulations.  They will fight you and say you are not fair, but in ten years, they will thank you for sticking to your guns.  As much as they might gripe about it, these kids crave structure.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Do your kids know about the consequences for their actions?  Good and bad?  Are you having hard discussions?  I hate it too, but it is a necessity.  These children (and they are still children) are facing things in their lives that were always on the fringes of our lives.  If we knew potheads in school, they know heroin addicts.  If we knew "that" girl who got in trouble, there are seven in the sophomore class who are pregnant.  I could go on and on, but you get the picture.  It's not different anywhere else and there is no perfect utopia where everyone is just fine.  We are all struggling.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, if you don't own a teenager, is there one in your life who you can lead?  Mentor?  Be a part of their lives?  Speaking into their lives positively?  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Where is the teenage chaos in your life?  Share the love.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-4725016851503675793?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/4725016851503675793/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=4725016851503675793' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/4725016851503675793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/4725016851503675793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2010/05/teenagers.html' title='Teenagers'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-4069927810468353177</id><published>2010-05-13T05:58:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-13T06:07:58.498-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Little Ducky</title><content type='html'>Well, our new house is on a lake (pond really, but whose counting?) and we have ducks and geese.  Actually, they fire off these noisy flare gun type things to scare away the geese because they poop so much.  But I digress.  Ducks are everywhere.  We have had this group of one female and three males on our lake, but no ducklings.  Kind of weird.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As I was coming home from taking the kids to school, I see a lone duckling wandering in the middle of the street.  No momma duck, no daddy duck, just baby duck.  So, I stop my mini-van in the middle of the street, put on my flashers and get out to help the baby duck.  It promptly waddles right under my mini-van, yikes.  I get it out and drive home with it, not really sure what to do.  I have three dogs, so the trick was to get inside, to my mother-in-law for help, without alerting the doggies.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I get inside, swoop into my mom-in-law's bedroom and we decide what to do.  You are probably asking yourself why I went home with the duckling.  I was in my pajamas to drive the kids to school and didn't want to walk around the neighborhood in my PJ's when I haven't yet met most of the neighbors, carrying a duck.  That's just me.  We put the baby duck in a box and proceed (after I get dressed) to go back to where I found him to see if there are any ducks around.  There are, but we don't want to get too close, so we let the little guy go nearby and back away.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here's my problem.  What if that wasn't his family?  What if those ducks hurt my duck?  What if it was a baby goose?  What happened to my little duck?  I don't have the answers and I don't want to go looking and find a dead baby duck, so I will live with my fantasy that he is re-united with his family and living large on worms and grass.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But if I see him again today, I am keeping him and raising him as one of the family.  Just sayin'.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-4069927810468353177?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/4069927810468353177/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=4069927810468353177' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/4069927810468353177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/4069927810468353177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2010/05/little-ducky.html' title='Little Ducky'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-6470710712571927728</id><published>2010-05-12T05:46:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-12T05:57:42.150-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What's New with You?</title><content type='html'>So many things happening in the last couple of months.  We moved into the Disco house and we love it.  We lived in a construction zone for three months, had more "pop ups" than we could count and finally, finally, there are no noises when I get home from work.  I can walk through my house without my contractor walking in another door.  As great a job as our contractor did, I am not sorry to &lt;i&gt;not&lt;/i&gt; see his truck in my driveway.  If you need any and all repairs/work done on your home and you live in the Detroit metro area, email me for Mark Harrop's number, he does exceptional work and is very reasonable.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I also went back to work full time.  I don't work at Starbucks anymore and once my "free" pounds of coffee run out, I will have to find a cost effective solution to my addiction.  I am scared for that day.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Back before I had kids, I was a licensed optician.  So, I got re-certified and went looking for a job.  And I actually got one.  No one was more shocked than me.  And I love it, another shocker.  I am working more hours, but have more energy and love my new job.  Working full time does have some drawbacks, like planning dinners, instead of picking something up every day, but I really, really love it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think one of the reasons I truly love it is that I really prayed, for months before, for God to put me in the job He needed me to be at.  I dropped off so many resumes to so many places and ended up in the perfect one for me.  That brings me such peace.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The kids are adjusting pretty well, and I don't have to work as late as at Starbucks, I am home by 8pm at the latest and home every morning to get them off to school, so that's good.  The crock pot is getting a work out, and if you have any exceptional recipes for that, post those too.   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am back to blogging, which I love.  So what's new with your crew?  New jobs?  New babies?  New empty-nesters?  Share the love.  God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-6470710712571927728?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/6470710712571927728/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=6470710712571927728' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/6470710712571927728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/6470710712571927728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2010/05/whats-new-with-you.html' title='What&apos;s New with You?'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-5050069769370205368</id><published>2010-05-11T08:41:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-11T08:42:38.557-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Gone too long</title><content type='html'>Sorry folks, I guess living in a construction zone took the best from me.  I am back and will be blogging starting tomorrow, so much to share.  Hope everyone out there is doing well and praising God for all the blessings in their lives.  See you manana.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-5050069769370205368?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/5050069769370205368/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=5050069769370205368' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/5050069769370205368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/5050069769370205368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2010/05/gone-too-long.html' title='Gone too long'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-5028606712678706856</id><published>2010-02-16T07:55:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-16T08:04:38.196-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Construction Zone Living</title><content type='html'>So, for the last three weeks, in the new house, we live with the sights, sounds and smells of construction.  To say I am flustered is an understatement.  You see, I know these things need to get done.  We need two more bedrooms in the basement.  Which means we need an egress window in the basement.  We need another bathroom in the basement.  We needed to turn the front living room (which real people never really use anyways) into our master bedroom.  We are making the house fit our family, which is great.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I know it's a blessing that we are able to do this.  And a blessing that our contractor is a Christian, honest and reliable and a friend.  I get all of that.  I really do.  But coming home from work to nail guns and saws and dust is making me a little crazy. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Also, the boxes.........oh the boxes.  We cannot unpack everything because no one is in their right bedrooms yet.  Every time I go downstairs, I face the boxes.  The boxes are mocking me.  They laugh at me behind my back, I am sure of it.  Plus, when I need something, I must go a digging.  Not fun.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, I will keep trying to be positive and they will keep on building.  Hopefully, by March we will all be settled.  If you know this won't be true, LIE TO ME.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-5028606712678706856?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/5028606712678706856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=5028606712678706856' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/5028606712678706856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/5028606712678706856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2010/02/construction-zone-living.html' title='Construction Zone Living'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-7694414259534887842</id><published>2010-01-27T06:07:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-27T06:14:58.804-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Back!!!!!</title><content type='html'>We have moved into the new house and now the fun begins.  Who knew there could be so many boxes in such a small space?  The things we cannot find are hilarious.  We cannot find the big blue tub of dog food.  We cannot find a box that had the toothbrushes and apparently Scott's belt in it.  The toothbrushes are in the bathroom, the box is missing and here we go!!!  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The garage is packed, the pod is packed and I have got to tackle these things pronto.  The cable is hooked up, so we did not miss American Idol last night!  Well, I missed it because I was doing stuff, but the kids saw it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have made the pledge never to move again.  Ever.  I hate it.  I hate being unsettled.  I hate the last minute packing that has to be last minute or no one would have clothes.  I hate the never ending job of unpacking, finding a place for it, and then breaking down boxes.  YUCK.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But I love our new house.  Every day I look out my back door wall (arcadia door for those of you in the Southwest) and see a lake and various wildlife.  Love it.  We will still have construction for about a month to get the bedrooms in the basement done.  So dust will be a constant companion, but that's okay.  This too shall pass.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Any funny moving stories out there?  Share the love.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-7694414259534887842?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/7694414259534887842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=7694414259534887842' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/7694414259534887842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/7694414259534887842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2010/01/im-back.html' title='I&apos;m Back!!!!!'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-6286761975148063709</id><published>2010-01-04T07:27:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-04T07:27:36.658-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Taking some time off....</title><content type='html'>A little time off to move and strip wallpaper.  God bless everyone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-6286761975148063709?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/6286761975148063709/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=6286761975148063709' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/6286761975148063709'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/6286761975148063709'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2010/01/taking-some-time-off.html' title='Taking some time off....'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-1897328821287422986</id><published>2009-12-31T06:17:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-31T06:29:05.562-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Wallpaper................blech</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SzyKV38Ru7I/AAAAAAAAADg/c9Tr56gTYhQ/s1600-h/100_0004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SzyKV38Ru7I/AAAAAAAAADg/c9Tr56gTYhQ/s320/100_0004.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421360159845890994" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, the new house has silver lame wallpaper in the kitchen.  I bought all the stuff to get it off.  I spent three hours yesterday, attempting to get it off the wall.  I got about one third of it off, maybe creeping towards a half.  But the paste is still on the wall, and I understand you have to get that off too.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Stripping wallpaper is not for the faint at heart.  First you have to score the wall, then spread on the goo, then wait, then start taking pieces off.  Just when you are ready to give it up for the day, you get a really big piece off and keep going.  I officially hate stripping wallpaper.  I am beginning to look at the white with black felt wallpaper in the front hallway in a whole new light.  It's not so bad.  It's actually coming back into style.  Because as hard as the silver lame stuff is, the felt stuff will be harder.  So what if my front hallways looks like a bordello, what do I care?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Okay, I will probably be stripping &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SzyKjnbql_I/AAAAAAAAADo/hr7qJt6RlUI/s320/000_0001.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421360395932309490" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;that bad boy too, but MAN, this is harder than I thought.  I clearly remember helping my sister do this like twenty years ago and you used some kind of toxic stuff with gloves and it just shooped right off the wall.  I could not find the toxic stuff.  I need the toxic stuff, not this stuff I can use without gloves and around children.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;One of my best friends has a steamer, but she lives in Illinois and I live in Michigan.  How much pizza and wine do you have to promise to get people to help you strip wallpaper?  Just asking.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Have you ever taken on a home improvement project that should have been easy and once you got into it, wanted to just stop?  That's how I feel right now.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-1897328821287422986?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/1897328821287422986/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=1897328821287422986' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/1897328821287422986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/1897328821287422986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/12/wallpaperblech.html' title='Wallpaper................blech'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SzyKV38Ru7I/AAAAAAAAADg/c9Tr56gTYhQ/s72-c/100_0004.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-7345495062690116295</id><published>2009-12-30T09:44:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-30T09:52:27.410-05:00</updated><title type='text'>New Years?</title><content type='html'>When I was younger, we used to go to the Tempe Block Party on New Year's Eve.  I actually saw the Gin Blossoms there in concert.  Met them too and my friend Cindy dated the drummer.  I used to be cool.  The Tempe Block Party is an outside party where they shut down Mill Ave and there are games and beer gardens and fun.  Leave there, get some Denny's and get home around 4:00 a.m.  No problem.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now, we stay home with the kids, eat snacks and make noise at midnight.  If we make it that far.  Then we go to bed and "sleep in" until 8 or 9 in the morning.  Woohoo.  Hey, if that makes me uncool, so be it.  I cannot come back from a six hour drunk anymore.  It takes at least a week and I do NOT have that kind of time.  I don't even drink anymore.  I just don't see the point.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So we stay in and have fun and we love it.  I probably like it more than all those wild New Year's of my youth because I don't have to recover.  Except from too little sleep.  That is no big deal.  I can always go to bed at like 7:00 p.m. the next night.  So I am an old fogey and I love it.  I don't want to be out there with all the non-designated driver's at 3:00 a.m.  It's a slim chance that a drunk driver will plow into my house.  I know it happens, but it's a one in a million to me.  Being out there on the roads definitely increases my chances of being hurt or worse.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So what do you do on New Years?  Stay home with the kids or go out and play?  Share the love.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-7345495062690116295?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/7345495062690116295/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=7345495062690116295' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/7345495062690116295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/7345495062690116295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/12/new-years.html' title='New Years?'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-3405257878936178385</id><published>2009-12-29T06:13:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-29T06:27:38.505-05:00</updated><title type='text'>So, when it rains, it pours</title><content type='html'>Yesterday morning, in a spurt of energy, I planned my day.  Wake up at 5:30, read bible, make coffee, finish laundry, run to new house to strip wallpaper, get some stuff for closing on new house, go to work.  Well........In getting the laundry basket, which was quite full, off of our little "shelf" on the sink by the washer, the board covering the sink slid off and landed right on my right foot.  The pain was instant and would not go away.  After about 45 minutes of trying to convince myself that I was fine, that shooting pain when I moved my foot was normal, I gave up.  I woke up my mother-in-law, and explained the situation. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have to tell you, I hate the ER and will avoid it at all costs.  I would rather just go to urgent care.  If that makes me stupid, so be it.  Urgent care does not open until 10:00 a.m..  How is that "urgent"?  Six in the morning is urgent, ten in the morning is just humming along.  So after ice and swelling, I am off to urgent care.  With the nine thousand other people who got sick or hurt this weekend.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In between all this, I have to call my boss at Starbucks and tell her I think I broke my foot.  We have been super, super busy this holiday season, so this went over like a lead balloon.  She was great and got my next three shifts covered, but I feel as if I am letting my team down.  I hate that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As I sit in not so "urgent" care, I get called back, and X-rayed and there is no break.  Then why all the pain I ask?  Well, you have bruised the soft tissue and that usually hurts worse than a break.  Great.  More pain and a longer "recovery".  Fabulous.  All this and we are supposed to close on the new house this week and move and get stuff done and all that jazz.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have several friends who are going through the "pouring" stage.  It's not just raining, it's not just pouring, it's flooding in epic proportions.  I am constantly amazed how much junk life can throw at a mom/wife and how we continue to bounce back and keep going.  We, as moms and warriors of God, ROCK.  I will admit to a lot of praying and reading of the bible, but that is my "go to" strategy.  Pray and give it to God and sit back and be amazed at His wondrous grace.  We beat the Energizer bunny, hands down.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I will limp along on my day today, did not sleep well, might go back to bed.  Is it raining in your life???  Some sprinkles or a downpour?  Share the love.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-3405257878936178385?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/3405257878936178385/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=3405257878936178385' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/3405257878936178385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/3405257878936178385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/12/so-when-it-rains-it-pours.html' title='So, when it rains, it pours'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-6359321807868062390</id><published>2009-12-28T06:13:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-28T06:13:28.448-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Shelby mother pens 'Chicken Soup' stories - News - Advisor</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href=http://sourcenewspapers.com/articles/2009/12/27/news/doc4b326f8748bef184371652.txt&gt;Shelby mother pens 'Chicken Soup' stories - News - Advisor &amp; Source&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Posted using &lt;a href="http://sharethis.com"&gt;ShareThis&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-6359321807868062390?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/6359321807868062390/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=6359321807868062390' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/6359321807868062390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/6359321807868062390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/12/shelby-mother-pens-soup-stories-news.html' title='Shelby mother pens &amp;#39;Chicken Soup&amp;#39; stories - News - Advisor'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-3852475669257797733</id><published>2009-12-28T06:03:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-28T06:10:22.705-05:00</updated><title type='text'>When to take down Christmas</title><content type='html'>So the eternal question is......when do we take down Christmas.  I know some people leave the lights on their house all year long, but I am not speaking about them.  When do you take down the Christmas stuff?&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I admit it, I love Christmas.  Love it.  Love everything about it.  Wanted more snow this year, and that didn't happen, but still, love it.  I have collected nativity scenes for years and I love putting them out.  Since we have been living in limbo for a couple of years, they have stayed packed, but I am looking forward to getting them all out next year.  I have bins upon bins of Christmas decorations.  I did restrain myself this year because we are moving shortly, so there is not that much stuff out.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I do remember one year when the thought of putting it all away became overwhelming to me.  I think we do that to ourselves sometimes, psych ourselves out of something.  I finally put everything away when my in-laws were coming to visit, in February.  Yikes.  Sometimes the thought of the job is worse than the job itself.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My usual routine, because I have a fake tree, is put it up right after Thanksgiving and take it down on New Year's Day.  That seems about right and gets me just about six whole weeks of Christmas cheer.  I usually forget one thing and that stays up all year.  But I had a dear friend once tell me that you are supposed to do that, so there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When do you take down Christmas?  How does it make you feel?  Share the love.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-3852475669257797733?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/3852475669257797733/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=3852475669257797733' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/3852475669257797733'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/3852475669257797733'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/12/when-to-take-down-christmas.html' title='When to take down Christmas'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-5428249298670185720</id><published>2009-12-21T20:23:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-21T20:24:22.178-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Taking some time off....</title><content type='html'>Taking a little time off to move and be crazed by that.  And of course, taking time off to celebrate Christmas with the family.  I will see you in the new year.  God bless us everyone.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-5428249298670185720?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/5428249298670185720/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=5428249298670185720' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/5428249298670185720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/5428249298670185720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/12/taking-some-time-off.html' title='Taking some time off....'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-3563199312390847278</id><published>2009-12-14T09:27:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-14T09:37:30.067-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Wrapping the gifts</title><content type='html'>So, as I sit here blogging, I need to be wrapping.  The shopping is done (mostly) and now I must wrap.  I do this after many years of wrapping on Christmas Eve and cursing myself for not doing it sooner.  I have no rhyme or reason on how to wrap, I just want to get it done.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have a friend who wraps her kids presents all in different paper for each child.  One gets santa, one gets candy canes, etc. etc.  So then, she puts them all under the tree and doesn't tell them which is which until Christmas morning.  That's one way of doing things.  I admire it, I just don't do it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I also do not put any presents under the tree until Christmas eve after the kids have gone to bed.  To me, there is something so magical about waking up to all that under the tree.  I love that expression of joy on their faces when they see it all.  That's my tradition.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Everyone has different and wonderful traditions.  Some open presents on Christmas Eve, some go to midnight mass, some have family Christmas early (we did that yesterday and the house was CLEAN) some just read the Chrismas story on Christmas eve.  Whatever your tradition is, I say embrace it.  Be silly, be serious, be whatever you need to be, just embrace the season and the craziness.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am off to wrap, wrap, wrap.  Have a blessed day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-3563199312390847278?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/3563199312390847278/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=3563199312390847278' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/3563199312390847278'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/3563199312390847278'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/12/wrapping-gifts.html' title='Wrapping the gifts'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-8624739032574152651</id><published>2009-12-11T06:56:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-11T07:01:50.346-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Cleaning for Christmas</title><content type='html'>Why do we do this?  The family is coming over Sunday, so we need to clean every nook and cranny.  Why?  Is the family really looking in corners for dust bunnies?  The house will be destroyed after thirty people eat dinner, sit around talking, someone will wrestle.  Blah, blah, blah.  So why do we do it?&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And who in the heck started this anyways?  I mean, I clean up on a regular basis, and there is no black ring in my toilet, so who was the first?  Can we go back in time and beat her up a little bit?  Was she cocky enough to have a maid and demand this stuff?  I'm just saying.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Isn't your family supposed to love you warts and all?  Why not dust bunnies and all?  Today, I shall move the couches, vacuum the couches, deep clean the bathroom, and then go to Starbucks and work for five hours in an outdoor mall when the wind chill is five below zero.  Whatever.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love Christmas as much as the next person, but this is getting ridiculous.  What are you cleaning up for this Christmas season.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-8624739032574152651?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/8624739032574152651/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=8624739032574152651' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/8624739032574152651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/8624739032574152651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/12/cleaning-for-christmas.html' title='Cleaning for Christmas'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-8235763163597952102</id><published>2009-12-09T09:28:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-09T09:36:43.859-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dreaming of a White Christmas</title><content type='html'>So, we get rain instead of snow.  My kids were very disappointed that they did not have a snow day.  They live for snow days, and we only get about three a year.  We had a little snow and now rain, and later, just for kicks and giggles, it's getting cold enough to freeze all the rain.  Should make rush hour interesting.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My favorite past time in the midwest is watching snow fall.  It's so calming and quiet.  Turn off every electrical appliance, and light and watch it snow.  The big fat flakes are the best.  I would settle for around ten inches on Christmas Eve, as long as I am off and can sit and enjoy the snow.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My kids want to have snowball fights, make snow angels and snow men.  I do too.  So fun.  This month we are getting ready to move right after Christmas, so I will take all the calm I can get, and all the fun.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, as our holidays get more and more hectic, I encourage you to slow down, watch some snow or a sunset, or the grass grow.  Take a minute or an hour and settle your soul.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-8235763163597952102?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/8235763163597952102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=8235763163597952102' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/8235763163597952102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/8235763163597952102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/12/dreaming-of-white-christmas.html' title='Dreaming of a White Christmas'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-61505346670240684</id><published>2009-12-07T06:49:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-07T06:57:23.813-05:00</updated><title type='text'>To Carmel Corn or not to Carmel Corn</title><content type='html'>As Christmas approaches, I am ferklempt.  I do not really feel like doing my holiday baking.  I always make carmel corn.  Last year, for our women's tea at church, I made carmel corn for 100 ladies.  Yuck.  Don't get me wrong, I love me some carmel corn.  Especially when it comes out of the oven and you eat it warm.  It is seriously the best stuff in the world.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So here I sit, getting ready to move right after Christmas.  I have the family Christmas here this Sunday.  I have youth events and chaos and love and stuff to do.  I do not have that warm fuzzy feeling of baking and love in the kitchen.  Because to bake is to love.  I always bake with love and I always make carmel corn for the holidays.  It's just a crazy holiday for me this year.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't want to make cookies or decorate them or clean up after the whole baking scene.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here is my question, is that wrong?  Is it wrong not to want to bake for hours on end and be so tired I cannot see?  I am already that tired and I have not baked one small thing.  I love Christmas, but this one will probably be very low key.   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, am I wrong or right?  Should I bake or not?  Share the love.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-61505346670240684?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/61505346670240684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=61505346670240684' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/61505346670240684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/61505346670240684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/12/to-carmel-corn-or-not-to-carmel-corn.html' title='To Carmel Corn or not to Carmel Corn'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-6880429563391469874</id><published>2009-12-02T06:17:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-02T06:56:33.713-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The New House</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SxZRGxNqDVI/AAAAAAAAAC4/zXS0ry68gKY/s1600-h/100_0049.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SxZRGxNqDVI/AAAAAAAAAC4/zXS0ry68gKY/s320/100_0049.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410601179063913810" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SxZNRhF1wzI/AAAAAAAAACw/Jq2TIpVFk5M/s1600-h/100_0002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SxZNRhF1wzI/AAAAAAAAACw/Jq2TIpVFk5M/s320/100_0002.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410596965668209458" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, after months of searching and eleven offers, we have a contract on a new house.  Well, it's new to me.  It's an 1800 square foot ranch with an 1800 square foot finished basement.  It's on a lake, which is very nice.  It also has not been updated since 1963, when it was built.  We call it the disco house.  I will add some more pictures to the side of this post, you will die laughing.  The thing is, the basement is so obnoxious I have to keep it pristine.  It has red and orange shag carpet up the walls surrounding my black naugahyde circle bar.  Now, we are not big drinkers, and the bar will probably be stocked with pop and juice, and for parties, the occasional beer or wine.  It does have a mini-fridge.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's the main level I have issues with, serious issues.  Sky blue and silver lame wallpaper in the kitchen.  That matches the white countertops with sky blue trim.  Which matches the painted cabinets that, for some unknown reason, they took sky blue detail tape, the kind you detail cars with, and "accented" the cabinets with it.  They also used sky blue shelf paper, even on the outside of a cabinet, to "blend" it in with the whole kitchen theme.  When you finally recover enough to look down, it's to see lavender linoleum (it was probably sky blue in 1963) inset with white starbursts in key locations.  There are no words.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We also have a "yellow" bathroom.  Here in the midwest in the 1960/1970 era they color coded bathrooms.  So I have a yellow tub/shower, yellow tile all around it and up the walls, yellow sinks and a yellow toilet.  This can be done quite tastefully if you downplay the color in the rest of the bathroom, they decided to accent it more.  I have gold faucets.  Gold lame butterfly wallpaper.   They painted the cabinets yellow.  They put those smokey gold lined mirror squares around the toilet.  It's a sight not to be believed.  We also have a pink bathroom, accented with gray.  And pink roses on the striped wallpaper.  Again, you have to see it to believe it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This said, some paint, and new kitchen counter tops and some tile here and there and it will be an awesome house.  It has cove ceilings and in it's day was definitely a custom house.  We just need to give it some tender loving care.  I have lovingly described this house at work and some unknown Santa delivered a disco ball to me by way of an elf.  I have absolutely no idea who it was, but I am hanging that bad boy in the basement.  Now all I need is a lava lamp and strobe light.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Any moving horror stories?  What about wallpaper?  Share the love.  And the pictures if you have them.  At the end of the day, the view is worth it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-6880429563391469874?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/6880429563391469874/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=6880429563391469874' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/6880429563391469874'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/6880429563391469874'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/12/new-house.html' title='The New House'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SxZRGxNqDVI/AAAAAAAAAC4/zXS0ry68gKY/s72-c/100_0049.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-4265783042375767476</id><published>2009-12-01T06:34:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-01T06:54:12.498-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='black friday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sales'/><title type='text'>Black Friday sales</title><content type='html'>Okay, was I the only one who went out at 4:00 a.m. to get a portable DVD player for $47.00?  Just asking.  I actually hit Walmart and Target and was home by 8:15.  Does this make me a crazy person or a saver of money?  Most people will tell you both.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The Black Friday sales are not for the faint at heart or the easily offended.  The line in Target started in the very back of books, went through electronics, back around garden to the food section, where you "looped around" and went back to garden, to bikes and then you began the loop towards the front of the store.  At one point, the lines intersect.  Some lady was mad.  Very mad, she had gotten in the wrong line.  Because there was a line for electronics that was different than the regular line.  There was mass confusion and chaos ensued.  This lady wanted to make sure no one was cutting in line in front of her because she had already, blah, blah, blah......  It's the Black Friday sales, what did you expect?  There are going to be lines, ridiculous lines, there is no avoiding them.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There is a bonus to the lines.  People swarm at the opening and just start shoving stuff into their carts.  Then, as they sit in line for 30-45 minutes (or longer) they discard what they really don't want.  That is how I found a hoodie in Tyler's size.  Because, when I finally reached the hoodie section, there were three smalls left in blazing red.  Standing in line there were digital photo frames, DVDs, various articles of clothing and someone actually put down one of the Ipod touch's that were on sale.  Someone scooped that puppy right up.  You have to be on alert for these things, the discards can be something you came in for and missed because you were getting something else.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have seen it all at these sales.  Oh, the humanity.  I find it ironic that while attempting to get a bargain for the "giving" season, someone, in order to get a good parking space, nearly ran down ten people, honking all the way.  All sense of decency goes out the window.  Unless you stand by me, I refuse, absolutely refuse, to be rude or upset if I missed my "bargain".  That is just the nature of the beast.  I say "excuse me" and "thank you" and I will pass you the movie you cannot reach because the carts are ten deep.  A little help, a little smile, a joke to pass the time.  All these things can make the chaos a little bit cheerier.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, did you go out on Friday, or sleep quietly in your bed?  Share your story.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-4265783042375767476?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/4265783042375767476/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=4265783042375767476' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/4265783042375767476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/4265783042375767476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/12/black-friday-sales.html' title='Black Friday sales'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-5992018688752016998</id><published>2009-11-30T07:00:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-30T07:07:50.602-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm back in the land of the living.</title><content type='html'>Hello folks.  Sorry I have been away, sick as two dogs.  I did not have the flu, I had bronchitis and two ear infections.  When I first went to the doctor, I only had one ear infection.  I had to tell the doctor that only four year olds get ear infections, he laughed at me.  I also had to go back to the doctor, because, even on antibiotics, I had gotten worse instead of better.  I hate that.  So more antibiotics, stronger ones and lots of sleep and I am better.  Sort of.   I am still coughing up stuff, but I at least can function.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, I apologize for being away so long.  How is everyone?  Everyone eat too much on turkey day?  We will be taking on some issues of Christmas and family and all that jazz in the coming weeks.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours and we will be talking tomorrow.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-5992018688752016998?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/5992018688752016998/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=5992018688752016998' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/5992018688752016998'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/5992018688752016998'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/11/im-back-in-land-of-living.html' title='I&apos;m back in the land of the living.'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-354800158182131547</id><published>2009-11-18T08:19:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-18T08:20:49.501-05:00</updated><title type='text'>So sick, so sorry</title><content type='html'>Sorry to say I have not been blogging because I have the flu.  I do not know if it is the 'swine' because going to the doctor so he can tell me I have the flu is ridiculous.  I am pushing fluids and should be up and running next week.  God bless.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-354800158182131547?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/354800158182131547/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=354800158182131547' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/354800158182131547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/354800158182131547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/11/so-sick-so-sorry.html' title='So sick, so sorry'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-6243453541922786638</id><published>2009-11-09T09:54:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-09T10:10:22.791-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Getting hurt or lying, which is worse.....</title><content type='html'>So yesterday, I come home from a nice Home Depot trip to see the whole family one the front porch.  It was a beautiful fall day here in Michigan, 66 degrees and sunny.  So no surprise there.  Then I see Tatum, tears streaming, sitting there with ice on her shoulder.  What happened you ask?  Well do you want what the cousins and her brother and the neighborhood kids came up with or do you want the truth?  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What they all came up with, to avoid getting in trouble (which was ten times worse for lying) was that she tripped in the woods and fell.  What actually happened was that she was being lifted up by three of them to touch a rope in a tree in the woods and someone slipped and she fell directly on her shoulder.  Hmmmmmmmmmmmmm, a simple fall or falling from five feet up.  Which would make her cry and scream when we try to move her arm???  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So after a trip to the Urgent Care, which is anything but urgent, no broken bones, but a severe bruise.  I get out of the minivan and there are all the little liars in the driveway.  So I yell at them all, because I am ticked off.  I am not angry that Tatum got hurt, that is just kid stuff that happens.  For the love of Pete, the day before JJ Kosek was jumping out of our tree into a pile of leaves, from 15 feet up.  Of course, when I saw him, I made him stop, but he had already done it three or four times.  Kids are kids and stuff happens.  I was mad that they lied how she was hurt, because it does matter.  It matters, because a fall from a hight is worse than a trip and fall.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Of course, all the kids think I am insane, but I am used to that.  I really am mad about it.  My question to all of you is, am I way off base or right on the mark.  Seriously, I want to know.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-6243453541922786638?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/6243453541922786638/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=6243453541922786638' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/6243453541922786638'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/6243453541922786638'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/11/getting-hurt-or-lying-which-is-worse.html' title='Getting hurt or lying, which is worse.....'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-3140731543464118584</id><published>2009-11-05T06:46:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-05T06:59:17.321-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Swine Flu</title><content type='html'>Okay, our youth group has started to ask, "do you have the swine?" when anyone coughs or does not feel good.  Schools are closing, although, much to my children's chagrin, ours have not.  People are standing in long lines to get the H1N1 vaccine.  The question is to vaccinate or not to vaccinate my kids.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here's my problem, when I brought it up, that I was going to call the pediatrician and take them in, my fifteen year old flat out refused to go.  He has watched the youtube video of the cheerleader who, because of the H1N1 vaccine, can no longer walk straight and has various motor skill difficulties now.  He feels that there is no long term studies on the vaccine and does not want to get it.  I hate to say it, but he makes a great point.  In all of our panicking, are we going too far? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My other problem is that there is mercury in the vaccine.  Manufacturers use mercury as a preservative in vaccines.  Cooper has Asperger's syndrome, which is a form of autism.  I don't think he should have the vaccine because there is so much research about autistic children not being able to filter out certain metals and other products out of their bodies.  The metals then form proteins in their brain that mimic opiates, thus the rocking back and forth, etc.  You have to do your own research, and make your own decisions, but mine is to not get Cooper the vaccine.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That leaves me two children, who if they get vaccinated and the others don't and the swine gets into my house, we are all going to be sick.  So I made the decision to not get my kids vaccinated against the swine.  Quite frankly, everyone I know who has had it touch their homes, if watched and managed properly, have been fine after some very rough days.  I am not taking this lightly, I am just wondering if we are all overreacting ever so slightly.  I know this is serious, and if my kids run a fever for more than ten straight hours, I will be hitting the doctor's office.  I am not being foolish, I am being cautious.  I have lysoled and cleaned and make use of hand sanitizer.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What are you doing about the Swine?  Share the love and wash your hands.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-3140731543464118584?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/3140731543464118584/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=3140731543464118584' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/3140731543464118584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/3140731543464118584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/11/swine-flu.html' title='The Swine Flu'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-3315871996087772571</id><published>2009-11-04T07:05:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-04T07:12:32.979-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanksgiving approaches.....</title><content type='html'>As thoughts of turkeys and stuffing and yumminess, I have to think about all the work that goes into the day.  It is a lot of work.  If you are the one cooking, it's a long day.  My husband says that it is the best meal I make all year.  Wow, that is a compliment.  I do love to cook, and I love thanksgiving, so I don't really mind cooking, but it is a tiring day.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What do you make for Thanksgiving?  I make a roasted turkey, stuffing (traditional sage with celery and onion),mashed potatoes, corn, green bean cassarole, sweet potatoes with apples and cinnamon, creamed spinach, crescent rolls, pumpkin pie and apple pie.  Oh and gravy, lots of gravy.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Some friends fry a turkey, which I have tried, and it  is awesome.  Some smoke a turkey.  Some barbeque a turkey.  I love turkey.  I talk to mine when I am preparing it.  My kids think I am nuts.  I have to talk to it so it turns out right.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What are your Thanksgiving traditions?  Share the love.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-3315871996087772571?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/3315871996087772571/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=3315871996087772571' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/3315871996087772571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/3315871996087772571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/11/thanksgiving-approaches.html' title='Thanksgiving approaches.....'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-5287940776167342918</id><published>2009-10-29T07:04:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-29T07:12:09.672-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Halloween is approaching</title><content type='html'>I have to say, I do like Halloween.  Candy, apple cider and all that jazz.  I have pumpkin lights up, much like Christmas lights.  I bought pumpkins.  Unlike a lot of people in Michigan, I have no problem buying my pumpkins at Walmart.  I do not have to go to a patch and pick my own and pay for the experience.  I may try to grow some at some point in my life, but this year, I got them at Wallyworld.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have made candy bags.  I just cannot hand out one piece of candy.  This is my mother-in-law's fault, as she started me on this journey.  I do really miss Halloweenie.  In our neighborhood in Az, we had hotdogs down in Kim's cul-de-sac and everyone brought something to share.  Yummo.  We all sat down there to hand out candy.  If you were VIP, you could go into Kim's house to get some chili, a closely guarded secret.  It was our own personal block party of fun.  I miss that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here in Shelby Township, Michigan they have the BEST trick or treating protocol.  At 7:00 p.m. the tornado siren goes off signaling the start of trick or treating.  At 8:00 p.m. the same alarm goes off to signal the end of trick or treating.  No late night ringing of the bell.  No chaos.  No children wandering until all times of the night.  Awesome.  Done in an hour.  Love it.  Everyone should do this everywhere, it just makes sense.  The only thing that would make it safer would be to ban driving of all kinds on side streets during this time.  I know that is a pipe dream, but there you go.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What Halloween traditions to you observe?  Share the love.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-5287940776167342918?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/5287940776167342918/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=5287940776167342918' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/5287940776167342918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/5287940776167342918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/10/halloween-is-approaching.html' title='Halloween is approaching'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-2058699440178838749</id><published>2009-10-23T07:26:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-23T07:44:11.544-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Twelve Year Old Boys</title><content type='html'>All I can say is, if I did not know I would get through this, I would ship him off to military school.  I have a fifteen year old boy, so I know this is a phase.  But working our way through the phase may kill me.  Let me explain.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Progress reports came in the mail.  After weeks of asking the proper questions..."have any homework?" "Any missing assignments?"  "How is middle school?" we get the ugly truth.  Grant is failing English (I believe it is now called Language Arts) and getting a D in tech ed.  Now, all I have heard about tech ed is how easy it is.  That it is a no brainer and super easy.  Well apparently, so is getting a D.  My mother taught english for over forty years and I am actually scared to tell her of this.  She will die.  Maybe literally.  Seriously, this is her grandson and he is failing at his native language.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So Scott and I lower the boom.  Grant is grounded, this gets a shrug.  Grant is down to three meals a day, no snacks, the hair gets cut off, he has more chores to do and he has to get all his grades up to a B.  Not a B-, a B.  All this and all I get is a shrug of the shoulders like so what?  So then, I ground him from youth group and the David Crowder concert this sunday, which is a youth group event.  Now I get the tears rolling.  You see, if you don't take away something they care about, they will just keep doing what they are doing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Twelve year old boys are an odd bunch.  They are hormonal, but do not know why.  They are trying to be "men" but are still boys at heart.  Middle school, which we all remember, has it's own set of horrors to deal with.  I get all that.  I just hate, and I do mean hate, the shoulder shrug, the constant arguing of his point, and the dreaded eye roll.  When Bill Cosby, in Himself, talks about, "Don't you roll your eyes at me, I will roll them right back into your head" I get it.  I am also quite familiar with the "I don't know"  Really?  Really, really?  You don't know how your sister got a bloody nose?  You don't know how my nail clippers got onto your bed.  You don't know why you have four missing assignments?  Which I found at the bottom of your locker when I went to your middle school and helped you clean it out.  He would have had a B in English but for the missing assignments.  Why?  Why, why, why, why why?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Maybe it's seventh grade.  Maybe it's middle school.  Maybe it's just me as a mom.  I don't know.  Wait a minute........that is not acceptable.  Oh no, maybe they really don't know.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So any twelve year olds out there in your life?  Share the chaos.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-2058699440178838749?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/2058699440178838749/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=2058699440178838749' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/2058699440178838749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/2058699440178838749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/10/twelve-year-old-boys.html' title='Twelve Year Old Boys'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-1952789007013312898</id><published>2009-10-21T06:20:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-21T06:28:53.897-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I am back from Vicodan Land</title><content type='html'>Okay, so my minor procedure on friday knocked me out more than I thought it would.  I  had more pain than I thought.  Definitely more than the cramping they say is going to happen.  I got some great stuff through my IV in the recovery room.  Could feel it go up my neck.  Whoooooo.  Then I was on vicodan the rest of the day.  Don't remember much.  I know I watched "He's not that into you" and thought it was mediocre at best.  I also watched Monsters vs. Aliens, which I think I loved, but it's a little fuzzy in parts.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;By friday midnight, it was obvious that the vicodan and my acid reflux did not agree with one another.  So I switched to four tylenols.  Yes, I know you are not supposed to take four tylenols at once, but it was still painful.  By the time I got Tylenol 3 with codeine called in on Saturday, I did not need it.  I was just tired and needed to rest.  Sunday I did too much with church, fall fun day, and small groups, so monday I was tired.  Today is my first day back at work, so we will see how it goes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think the anesthesia kicked my butt more than the procedure itself.  I know I feel quite well after the Novasure and hopefully it will put an end to my very bad, very painful periods.  We shall see next month.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Have you ever been to vicodan land?  Did you come back okay?  Share the hazy memories.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-1952789007013312898?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/1952789007013312898/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=1952789007013312898' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/1952789007013312898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/1952789007013312898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/10/i-am-back-from-vicodan-land.html' title='I am back from Vicodan Land'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-7836486244375550381</id><published>2009-10-15T06:31:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-15T06:33:28.987-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A little time off</title><content type='html'>So, tomorrow I am having some out patient surgery.  Nothing serious, just the Novasure procedure, to stop my heavy monthly cycles.  So, I will not be blogging for a while, but will be back next week.  Have a blessed week and look for the funny in everything.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-7836486244375550381?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/7836486244375550381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=7836486244375550381' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/7836486244375550381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/7836486244375550381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/10/little-time-off.html' title='A little time off'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-6273522665887067698</id><published>2009-10-14T08:30:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-14T08:39:46.809-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Picture day.....the horror</title><content type='html'>Okay, up until this point, I have enjoyed picture day in my family.  Pick out a nice shirt, comb some hair, maybe some curling for Tatum.  No problem.  Well Tatum is now eleven years old.  She is shaving her legs and today, straightening her hair.  She got up at 5:30 to start this process.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;She picked out her shirt (I believe it's hollister a hand me down for sure) and straightened her hair.  Then, she humbly came down and asked if she could wear some mascara and some lip gloss.  I let her do that.  Then she came down and asked if she could wear some eye shadow.  Now she is pushing it.  I say no.  She stomps up the stairs.  I tell her to watch it, or I will scrub her face.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now Grant is in the bathroom brushing his teeth and will not let her in.  Let the screaming commence.  Oh my gosh, she still has 45 minutes until the bus and she has to fix her lip gloss.  God help me.  Trying to be sympathetic was a little trying after the fourth attempt at lip gloss with no smears.  Then a flick of the hair, in the lip gloss, let's all start over again.  I just went into my bedroom and screamed into my pillow.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Let's not overlook the fact that now she can pick her background color.  There are six choices.  Finally, after yelling at her after the fifteenth "I don't know", she picks purple.  Ten bucks says she changes her mind if her best friend picked something else.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She is off to the bus.  Someone pass the valium or at the very least, tequila.  Yikes.  For the record, Cooper could not care less, but he picked a green background, his favorite color.  Of course it did not match his shirt......oh well.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Any pre-teen girls in your life?  Share the love.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-6273522665887067698?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/6273522665887067698/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=6273522665887067698' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/6273522665887067698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/6273522665887067698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/10/picture-daythe-horror.html' title='Picture day.....the horror'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-1476893052167496198</id><published>2009-10-12T06:32:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-12T06:42:28.951-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='God&apos;s strength in hard times.'/><title type='text'>So......not writing as much</title><content type='html'>Many may have noticed that I am not writing as much as I used to.  Bad habit to fall into, but I will try to improve.  We just have so much going on with trying to find a house.  Making over ten offers on ten houses only to be beat out of them all by a higher offer or a cash offer.  Who has 160 grand just sitting around in today's economy?  So all I do is look at foreclosed houses and then race around to do an offer and then fax the offer and then etc. etc. etc..&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I admit to being quite weary in all of this and very depressed.  It seems like I am doing all God is requiring of me to get all this stuff done.  I look at just about every house out there, even the scary ones.  I was feeling quite scared and then yesterday in church I was reminded of God's capabilities.  God's, not mine.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"How can you say the Lord does not see your troubles...How can you say God ignores your rights?  Do you not know?  Have you not heard?  The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth.  He will not grow tired or weary, and his understanding no one can fathom.  He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak."  Isaiah 40: 27-29&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That is some powerful stuff.  God does not get tired of me.  God gives me strength.  Sometimes, our greatest faith is born out of our greatest struggles.  So what are you struggling with today?  Get out your bible and solve those problems.  God is good and he is our heavenly father who loves us dearly.  He has the power to stop and bend down and pick you up today.  To uphold you.  To care for you.  To provide for you in a way that no one else can.  Go to Him and be comforted.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-1476893052167496198?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/1476893052167496198/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=1476893052167496198' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/1476893052167496198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/1476893052167496198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/10/sonot-writing-as-much.html' title='So......not writing as much'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-5479771479805296186</id><published>2009-10-08T06:31:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-08T06:37:31.288-04:00</updated><title type='text'>To doctor or not to doctor</title><content type='html'>Cooper came home glassy eyed and feverish yesterday.  I could tell he was way off his game.  Poor sweetie.  In today's swine flu chaos, I debated taking him into the doctor.  I gave him dinner, he ate it and kept it down.  I gave him Tylenol and that got his fever down.  I had him take a shower and go to bed early.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This morning, so far, he is nice and cool.  So, in the flu pandemic, what to do with a fever?  I am not a panicking type mom, but the flu hits hard and fast.  Is it wrong to take a minute and not rush off to the doctor?  What do you think?  Are you going to the doctor no matter what?  Do we risk not taking them?  I am curious as to how everyone is handling the flu season with the swine on the horizon.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, let me know what you are dealing with today as far as sickness goes.  Share the love, but keep your own germs!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-5479771479805296186?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/5479771479805296186/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=5479771479805296186' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/5479771479805296186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/5479771479805296186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/10/to-doctor-or-not-to-doctor.html' title='To doctor or not to doctor'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-1336041317717582721</id><published>2009-10-07T09:36:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-07T09:41:56.766-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My first Homecoming Dance</title><content type='html'>Okay, I am a sappy mom.  I admit that.  Any school program where three year olds are singing, I am crying my eyes out.  If it's my child, all the more.  Tyler, my fifteen year old is going to two homecomings.  Both with girls that are just friends.  One last weekend, one this weekend.  He is wearing his dad's black suit.  I have bought a black shirt.  One girl accessorized with hot pink, so I bought a hot pink tie.  The next girl is wearing yellow, so I bought a yellow tie.  Last friday, Tyler did a dress rehearsal.  He came down stairs, all dressed up and I admit it.  I cried.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He looked me in the eye and said, "NO!".  I am not allowed to cry, even when he leaves.  He is so grown up and he looked so handsome.  I cannot wait to post some pictures.  I was so proud of him and all he did was dress up.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know, as the mother of four, this is only one of many homecoming dances.  And proms.  And everything in between.  I love it.  Pictures, corsages, all that jazz.  No one ever asked me to homecoming, so I never went.  Girls today don't wait, they either go with their friends, or ask a boy that is a friend.  Love it.  No more anxiety.  You go girls.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So what new milestone are you hitting this year with your kids?  Is it first steps, first dance?  Share the love.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-1336041317717582721?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/1336041317717582721/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=1336041317717582721' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/1336041317717582721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/1336041317717582721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/10/my-first-homecoming-dance.html' title='My first Homecoming Dance'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-4487023159918477332</id><published>2009-10-02T06:48:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-02T07:07:14.217-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Strictly for the girls.......</title><content type='html'>Okay, so I have really bad periods.  Very bad and heavy and all that stuff.  So I finally found an OB/GYN here in Michigan that I like and he suggests we look at everything.  I have an ultrasound, that shows some Andiometriosis (sp?) and then they schedule a biopsy.  No cancer or anything, they just need a tissue sample to see what method of treatment is best for me.  I have never had one of those done, but I go off to the doctor.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have done a little research.  I might get crampy, it could hurt a little, stuff like that.  My doc told me to get some advil on board about two hours prior, to help with any pain.  I am prepared.  I get taken into a little exam room, asked all the right questions and told to undress from the waist down and sit in this chair/exam table thing with a sheet over all my business and wait.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Doc comes in, we talk about when the results will be in, various options for me when we know the results and so forth.  He calls in the nurse, tells me to sit back and proceeds to push a pedal that literally turns me upside down.  So my business is right up in his face.  Hello.....the chair was not upside down when I entered the room, how am I supposed to know I would be upside down for this little procedure.  Really?  Really, really?  Yes, upside down.  The whole thing takes about a minute and a half.  I did feel a pinch, but not much more.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You know and I know, after having children, we lose all modesty.  And I do trust and like my doctor, but come on, upside down?  I still cannot get over it.  Is there no justice in this world?  How come men aren't upside down?  Or scooting closer to the edge of the table?  Why is this saved just for us?  If you are going to tell me this goes back to Eve and all that apple stuff, I am gonna blow a gasket.  Is there no justice?  I don't know.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know we have to do these things for our health, I was just sharing with you in case you have to go in for a biopsy of your nether regions.  I'm just saying......&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-4487023159918477332?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/4487023159918477332/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=4487023159918477332' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/4487023159918477332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/4487023159918477332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/10/strictly-for-girls.html' title='Strictly for the girls.......'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-3633961054484341782</id><published>2009-09-29T06:23:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-29T06:33:20.338-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Fall!!!!!!!!!!!</title><content type='html'>Yeah, a crispness to the air, the leaves beginning to change.  I love it.  Here in Michigan, it means cider mills and fresh warm cinnamon donuts.  There is nothing like fresh pressed cider and warm donuts.  All the fall decorations are coming out and the soup pot has returned.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yesterday was the first crisp day of the year and I made chili.  Yummo.  Chili with lil smokies in it with cheese on top and sourdough bread with butter.  I ask you, does it get any better than that?  Why yes it does because there was apple pie for dessert, made by my own little hands.  Oh yeah, and I got to get out my down comforter and sleep under the weight of loveliness.  I love sleeping under a bunch of blankets, makes me feel all burrowed in and comfy.  I have to find my slippers and my cabin socks.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cabin socks are these hand knit socks my mom makes and mails to me from Arizona.  I love them, but I also wear them out.  Every year I wear out the heels of them.  They really are not repairable, so I then call my mom and I get more sent to me.  Unfortunately, my brother in law and sister in law also love cabin socks.  Being the generous person I am, I will give them a pair or two a year.  But I think they have stolen some extras and are hoarding them in secret.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So what do you do for fall?  Do you live in a state where it is actually a season, or just a feeling?  Share the love.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-3633961054484341782?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/3633961054484341782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=3633961054484341782' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/3633961054484341782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/3633961054484341782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/09/its-fall.html' title='It&apos;s Fall!!!!!!!!!!!'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-1900148636234933591</id><published>2009-09-28T06:17:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-28T06:34:16.597-04:00</updated><title type='text'>new week, new possiblities</title><content type='html'>Okay, we all hate Mondays, me too.  But today, I will take the position of a brand new week means brand new opportunities.  I will try my personal best to be positive.  This will, of course, last until someone cuts me off in traffic, but hey, I can try.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Our attitude is directly related to how our days are going.  I have good days and bad days.  And sometimes (like the week before my period) the smallest thing will set me off.  I don't have to be rational if I am right.  Case closed.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I do try to be as positive as possible.  Mostly because I work with the most miserable person on earth.  This person is bound and determined to make everyone's life miserable around her.  At first, this angered me, but as I have come to recognize their attitude, I actually pity her.  I am convinced she will die alone.  This isn't some seventeen year old idiot.  This person is approaching thirty, it should be figured out by now.  I am not saying I was little miss mary sunshine in my early twenties.  I was and idiot, but usually in a good mood.  As you age, you learn lessons in protocol and reading people.  I have always said, when you hit your thirties, you learn to close your mouth more.  Just my opinion.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So where is your attitude this morning?  Can you rescue it from the pooper?  Can you pull it out of the monday blues and find a little sunshine this morning?  Let me know.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-1900148636234933591?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/1900148636234933591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=1900148636234933591' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/1900148636234933591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/1900148636234933591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/09/new-week-new-possiblities.html' title='new week, new possiblities'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-1557329748057884664</id><published>2009-09-25T07:28:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-25T08:01:18.668-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='staples and stitches'/><title type='text'>A staple to the head</title><content type='html'>Sound worse than it really is.  Grant called me from middle school yesterday right as the bus should have been pulling away from the school.  I thought he had missed the bus.  So he tells me that he was hit in the head with a chair.  Again, sounds worse than it really is.  Grant was bending down to get his chair to put up at the end of the day.  Another kid was picking his chair up, and it met Grant's scalp in a perfect storm of end of the day chaos.&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Some points to make............Grant himself called me.  Not a teacher, not a counselor, not anyone in authority.  He was bleeding from the head.  As I was waiting for him in the hall, in front of the assistant principal and the principal, they had no idea Grant was even hurt.  Once I told them why I was there, they asked all the right questions.  Also, my pediatrician, even though he has been in practice probably thirty years, does not do stitches in the office.  I was referred to the ER, in the same medical building. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So as I await treatment in the ER, I have already called my backup, the one and only Janet, mother-in-law supreme, to get my other children where they have to be.  You see, as you and I both know, if a monkey wrench it thrown into our days, we must then re-arrange the rest of our day.  We are not free to just go willy nilly to the ER.  Silly moms, chaos is our lives.  We must make the calls, inform the dads, let them know you have it all under control, make sure all the kids will get where they need to go.  This can then involve friends stepping in, family being roused from their routines, any and all help is called in.  Because you have probably been called and stepped in when needed.  We get all this done while waiting for the triage nurse to look at our kid. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;They take a look and get us back to "minor" treatment.  Clean it up, and tell Grant it would hurt more to numb it up and stitch it than to just staple it.  The physician's assistant talks him through it, and one staple later, we are on our way.  I did go to the pediatrician first, just trying to save some money if he did not indeed need stitches.  Which he did.  Which I knew, but money is tight, so off to the pediatrician first.  Long day.  One clue, if your child is hurt, always let them explain what happened.  They know the story and then it does not look like you are trying to cover something up.  The very last thing you need is CPS knocking on your door because you talked over your kid to explain what happened.  That's just my  two cents thrown in for free.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, now he is affectionately called staple head by one and all.  Thrilling, thrilling day.  Just one more reason we as moms need to stick together.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Any staples in your life?  Share the metal.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-1557329748057884664?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/1557329748057884664/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=1557329748057884664' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/1557329748057884664'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/1557329748057884664'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/09/staple-to-head.html' title='A staple to the head'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-607232633925772604</id><published>2009-09-24T06:01:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-24T06:08:11.267-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='teenagers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='waffles.'/><title type='text'>Waffles</title><content type='html'>For reasons I have yet to understand, some of my son's friends from our youth group, have decided to come over this morning for waffles.  Let's get something straight right away.  I don't make homemade waffles.  I never have.  I owned a waffle iron once, and never used it.  These will be Eggos from the freezer.  They just want to come over and say hi to "Momma Kay".  Okay........&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The teenage mind in hilarious.  I am sure this started as some kind of joke.  They don't even go to my son's high school, but to one farther away.  Yet, they are coming over for waffles.  I realize this is just a ploy to be random, but hey, I do love these kids. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I must go and warm up the toaster. I thought briefly about getting some sausage yesterday to compliment the waffles, but where is the randomness in that?  I will get out my Costco size syrup and the butter and the plates and make them waffles.  Hilarious.  If you have not hung out with teenagers lately, let me tell you, "random" is one of their favorite words.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Literally, five kids are getting up earlier than they have to, all in the name of crappy waffles from a wild haired, not had enough coffee, crazy lady.  Okey dokey.  Gotta love it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What is random in your life today?  Share the love.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-607232633925772604?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/607232633925772604/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=607232633925772604' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/607232633925772604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/607232633925772604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/09/waffles.html' title='Waffles'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-2784778909246057574</id><published>2009-09-22T09:12:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-22T09:21:27.331-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Hubby's birthday</title><content type='html'>So tomorrow, my husband will turn 40.  He will tell you that I will always be older than him.  While that is true, and somewhat cruel, he is hitting the big four oh.  I have asked him what he wants.  He wants new white t-shirts and underwear.  That's it.  Don't go all out.  Just some new underthings.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Whatever.  I will get him his underwear.  This brings up a great question.  Why are guys so hard to buy for?  How much cologne and ties can we buy?  How many audio books (they mostly hate to read), money clips, even six packs of their favorite beer can we buy?  How many stupid t-shirts with some kind of stupid saying about something they used to joke about?  He was a golf professional for fifteen years, so he needs no clubs, no shirts, no tees, nothing regarding golf.  I have, in the past, gotten him an official Tiger's jersey.  An official Red-Wings jersey, and we don't buy Lions anything, they are horrible.  Even Detroiters don't buy Lions stuff, it's just embarrassing to own.  He likes the Suns more than the Pistons, and he has a Suns jersey.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What do you get your hubby for his birthday?  Father's day?  Christmas?  Just curious.  I need more ideas please.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Have a great day, God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-2784778909246057574?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/2784778909246057574/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=2784778909246057574' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/2784778909246057574'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/2784778909246057574'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/09/hubbys-birthday.html' title='Hubby&apos;s birthday'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-1999788540349492338</id><published>2009-09-21T06:20:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-21T06:37:35.815-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Different Parenting......</title><content type='html'>We have all run up against another mother that parents their child differently than we do.  I always try to respect what they are doing.  Aside from beating the crud out of a kid, I usually just shake my head and walk away.  I don't want someone interfering with my parenting and I will respect someone else's style, even if I don't agree with it.  Sometimes, though, I get totally perplexed.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am a youth leader at our church.  We have some kids whose parents don't come to our church, but the kids do.  Most are fine with that, we don't sacrifice cats in the basement or require you to give up your oldest child for service.  It's just a non-denominational bible based church.  Nothing weird going on.  But I have actually been to the church, and researched the children's programs before enrolling my children in them.  There is a family whose teenagers are fighting with their parents to come to youth group.  The parents let them go to church camp, go on a mission trip, cross state lines with us, but now, they are "too into" it, and it has to stop.  Too into church.  Too into getting close to God.  Too into not fighting with each other and doing good.  Not that they are perfect or that our youth group spits out perfect kids, not gonna happen, but we are trying to get God into the center of these kids lives.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So riddle me this.........why?  I want you to know that when these kids have asked me, I always tell them, that though this is hard, they must respect their parents.  I do not encourage them to disobey their parents or sneak out or anything.  Nor does any leader, we respect the parents role in the family.  We have offered to speak to the parents to address any concerns to no avail.  We are going to be doing a purity bible study in small groups for both the boys and the girls.  I would love my kids to be exposed to that.  I read the book and I am blown away at the challenges that this study encourages these young people to address and handle.  I think it is going to be amazing.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know I am "in" the church, so my view may be skewed, but when my kids wanted to get involved in this group, I researched it.  Just like I would soccer, or band or whatever thing they were interested in.  That's my job, so I don't understand any parent who would say NO, and not do their research.  It also confuses me that these kids have freedom in just about all areas in their lives, just not for God.  There are worse things these kiddos could want to be involved in.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Share your opinions, am I off base, right on, or should just stay out of it.  Again, I have always encouraged these kids to, above all else, respect their parents.  Let me know.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-1999788540349492338?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/1999788540349492338/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=1999788540349492338' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/1999788540349492338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/1999788540349492338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/09/different-parenting.html' title='Different Parenting......'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-5800985178533766553</id><published>2009-09-18T07:50:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-18T07:58:34.835-04:00</updated><title type='text'>So, every now and again</title><content type='html'>So, from time to time, I turn on MTV to see what's on.  What happened to all the videos?  And why does every rap video have high priced cars and higher priced women?  And where is rock and roll?  Do they even show videos anymore?  I am trying to catch up on what my kids are into and there are no videos, just reality shows.  And the reality shows are pretty staged, don't you think.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On facebook, a friend of mine posted the video that started it all, Video killed the Radio star. This for me, brought back nostalgia from high school, my first concert and all that.  Do you have any 80's memories that stand out?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Big hair?  Parachute pants?  The horror when Eddie Van Halen started playing the keyboards?  The final acceptance of the same.  The Go'Gos and Thriller?  Hair bands, the good ones and the not so good ones who had one great song.  What hits it for you?  I actually found a picture of me in my Catholic School uniform............tragic.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Are you an 80's chick?  Share the love.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-5800985178533766553?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/5800985178533766553/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=5800985178533766553' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/5800985178533766553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/5800985178533766553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/09/so-every-now-and-again.html' title='So, every now and again'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-5120149601062053089</id><published>2009-09-16T06:14:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-16T06:25:43.118-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Okay, I gave in to coffee</title><content type='html'>So, I was off caffeine completely for nine months.  It took five horrible days filled with headaches to get off the stuff.  Just proof that my body was addicted, right?  Well, I had just sort of slipped in August, one cup on Saturday, that was it.  Then school started.  How in the heck am I supposed to wake up every day at 5:30 in the morning with no caffeine?  So I have allowed myself one cup a day of coffee.  Okay, it's a big cup, but still, I need some caffeine.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, I love it.  I have missed it.  I need it.  I work at Starbucks for cripes sake, now do you feel my pain of giving it up?  One beautiful cup of java in the morning with two sweet-n-lows and some cream.  Yep, cream, not milk, not skim milk, not creamer, but real, honest to goodness cream.  That is my indulgence.  Real cream in my coffee.  I don't know if that is a midwest thing, but people here put half-n-half in the coffee.  We stopped putting out whole milk and non-fat at work and we really only have about three people a week ask for it.  Everyone else puts in cream.  It is an indulgence, but since I am watching everything else, cream in my coffee is worth it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, I have officially fallen off the wagon of caffeine.  There are worse things I could be addicted to.  Okay, I love chocolate too, so kill me.  Life is good with a great cup of coffee (I grind my beans every morning) and a nice piece of chocolate.  Yum.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What do you indulge in?  Or are you sticking to your guns and being good?  Either way, good for you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-5120149601062053089?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/5120149601062053089/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=5120149601062053089' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/5120149601062053089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/5120149601062053089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/09/okay-i-gave-in-to-coffee.html' title='Okay, I gave in to coffee'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-7599437203336485091</id><published>2009-09-15T07:21:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-15T07:34:58.580-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A bee sting gone wrong....</title><content type='html'>So I get home from working last night at five thirtyish and my niece is here to do my hair (went a little blonder) and I am told to look at my 15 year old son's hand.  He had gotten stung by something on Sunday.  By five o'clock his had was hot and red and swollen.  Believe it or not, I had to take him kicking and screaming to our night owl clinic at the doctor's office.  I had to threaten him with missing youth group and band practice.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We arrive at the night owl clinic at six o'clock, we got called back at 7:45.  Every five minutes, Tyler asks me to leave, I absolutely refuse to leave until a doctor looks at his hand.  Finally, the doctor comes in and take a look, not happy.  Puts him on antibiotics because it looks like cellulitis (sp?) and tells us to keep an antihistemine on board.  Oh yeah, if streaks start going up his arm, emergency room.  A little more red today is normal, but streaks up the arm, ER.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All this from some kind of sting/bite from some sort of flying insect who remains anonymous.  What the heck?  Bee stings are supposed to hurt and you put some baking soda paste on them and they go the heck away.  Not red streaks up arms and emergency rooms.  I did not like the look of the hand this morning, but the doc says a little worse this morning is normal.  I am very worried about what it will look like when he gets home from school today.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So anything weird happen to your kids from a bug bite?  Share the swelling.........&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-7599437203336485091?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/7599437203336485091/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=7599437203336485091' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/7599437203336485091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/7599437203336485091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/09/bee-sting-gone-wrong.html' title='A bee sting gone wrong....'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-6067011877603847080</id><published>2009-09-14T09:02:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-14T09:12:26.078-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Forgot Cooper's Lunch</title><content type='html'>Sorry so late today, apparently I am a horrible mom.  As I went to get a tea bag down, I noticed the brown paper bags that are used to pack Cooper's lunch.  Then it hit me.  I did not pack his lunch.  Now you may say, "That's okay, he won't starve".  Let's remember, this is my Aspberger's boy and his schedule may not be interrupted.  He will not eat cafeteria food, not because he may not like it, but because the entire cafeteria smells like a cafeteria.  So I scrambled myself into the shower because I work today, and I cannot go out looking like death.  If I had the day off I would have just thrown on a bra and gone and delivered his lunch.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you can call it lunch.  He has the same thing every day.  Pretzels, wheat thins and a Capri Sun.  Goldfish crackers for snack.  Do not deviate from the menu, ever, ever ever.  Well, I delivered his lunch and scrambled back home to write my blog before work.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What have you forgotten lately?  Make you cry or make you laugh?  Share the love.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless  you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-6067011877603847080?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/6067011877603847080/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=6067011877603847080' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/6067011877603847080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/6067011877603847080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/09/forgot-coopers-lunch.html' title='Forgot Cooper&apos;s Lunch'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-9134789693581772121</id><published>2009-09-11T06:40:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-11T07:02:20.284-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The homework dilemma</title><content type='html'>Okay, I am old.  I am not ashamed to admit that I have reached the ripe old age 42 and that I went to middle school thirty years ago.  That being said, I believe that I am not an idiot.  I am educated, and keep up on current events and such.  I often say I am full of useless information.  My husband and his brother, in an attempt to stump me, took out a dictionary one day.  They picked words at random and I knew the meaning or what it was about in every case.  I do read a lot.  I love to read.  Okay, so I am what I would call intelligent.  Mostly.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, the homework of a middle school child should not be that hard.  I mean, the Scientific Method and all that jazz.  The problem was that a packet was sent home to be completed, all these blank spaces, but no book or workbook or hand out to go with it.  So, how am I supposed to help with this stuff?  I could not.  Let me give you an example.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"1. Ask a question.  Also known as __________.  This step is what puts the scientific method into action and is based upon___________.  Involves a defined question. (what, why, how statements).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;No book, no workbook, no nothing.  So what do I do?  It only got worse from there.  The first page has two definitions on it, nothing really to do with the scientific method.  There is a page with some type of graph type thing about the scientific method and a paragraph kind of explaining it, that being said, no book, no specific words to help out.  I know I wasn't in class and that no notes were taken.  It is seventh grade and the first week of school.  These kids barely know what day it is at this point.  They can't figure out their locker combination and can barely find their way around a new school with new students from four or five grade schools.  Basically, the don't know their elbows from their you know whats.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I have to make a call this morning and Grant is going in before school to talk to the teacher and possibly do the homework at lunch.  Am I out of line to expect my child to be properly equipped to do his homework?  I am not that mom.  I do not excuse homework, he has to do it, but he needs the proper tools to complete it.  Help me out here moms, am I out of line?  Just asking.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What challenges are you facing this school year?  Share the love.....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-9134789693581772121?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/9134789693581772121/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=9134789693581772121' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/9134789693581772121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/9134789693581772121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/09/homework-dilemma.html' title='The homework dilemma'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-2947182213242583360</id><published>2009-09-10T06:42:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-10T06:59:09.686-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Beautiful Silence...</title><content type='html'>After a chaotic summer of petty arguments, back biting, fighting over the gaming station, fighting over which show to watch, finally, a little silence.  You see, all my children went to school and I did not have to work until later in the morning.  So after forgetting backpacks, putting on shoes, getting all lunches packed, etc., I sat on the couch and listened to the quiet.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I believe there is a wonderfulness to the quiet.  The perfect balance of a dog at my feet, a cup of coffee in my hand and the quiet.  I used to laugh hilariously at the Cosby show.  Every fall, Cliff and Claire would have this huge celebration on the first day of school.  Taking back the house.  Yeah, baby.  Celebrate.  Kids are in school.  If I clean a room, when I walk back into the same room, it will still be clean.  That alone is a minor miracle.  I can go to the store and not come home to two kids beating the crud out of each other.  Life is good.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think that it is okay to like the silence.  There is nothing wrong with liking the peace and quiet of an empty home.  I love it when they are home too.  I love having a houseful of kids, I just like it better when they are so tired from school, they don't have the energy to fight.  Or they are so bogged down with homework, they don't have time to fight.  That's what I call peace and quiet.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Do you ever find yourself listening to the quiet?  I am all about it.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and your quietness.......&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-2947182213242583360?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/2947182213242583360/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=2947182213242583360' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/2947182213242583360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/2947182213242583360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/09/beautiful-silence.html' title='The Beautiful Silence...'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-7797816446602773192</id><published>2009-09-09T06:34:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-09T06:50:29.869-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Oops, First day of school blocked my blog</title><content type='html'>So as I got four children off to three different schools yesterday, I also had to get myself ready for work at 7:30.  That's right, mom of the year here forgot to take the first day of school off.  I did not go with my youngest to the bus stop.  Bad mommy, bad, bad mommy.  Although, they are in the fifth and sixth grades respectively, so I don't feel too bad.  My middle schooler wanted to take a shower in the morning, even though he had taken one the night before.  We had to adjust his way of thinking, because I am not washing that many towels every darn day.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As my high schooler walked down the driveway, I stood in the doorway and asked if he was okay.  He looked at me like I was crazy and said, "Uh, yeah......."  I could not help it, it was his first day of high school.  Big bad high school.  He was absolutely fine.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It brought back the memory of his first day of kindergarten.  He went to a small private preschool/kindergarten.  The classroom was too small for the parents to go inside, so as they lined up our little ones, and marched them into class, we moms and dad just stood outside and waved and smiled.  Then they closed the door.  For many of us standing there, this was our first child going to school all day for the first time.  The door closed and we all looked at each other and started to bawl.  No sissy crying, true bawling our eyes out.  Our babies were in school.  So many of us had our younger ones in strollers, I personally had Grant and the twins in a triple stroller.  After a couple of minutes and many hugs, we dispersed to run our errands or whatever.  Our babies in kindergarten, sigh........&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now my "baby" is in high school, has his driving permit, and plays guitar.  Where did it all go?  Don't blink, next time I open my eyes he will be walking down the aisle.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;How was your first day?  Share the love.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-7797816446602773192?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/7797816446602773192/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=7797816446602773192' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/7797816446602773192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/7797816446602773192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/09/oops-first-day-of-school-blocked-my.html' title='Oops, First day of school blocked my blog'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-7953914001812344957</id><published>2009-09-04T09:46:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-04T10:04:01.799-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Last Hurrah....</title><content type='html'>Ah, Labor day weekend.  To those of you whose children have already started school, you are thinking, big deal, to those of us in Michigan, we are gearing up for the last fun time of summer.  Temperatures are already cooling off and some of the leaves on the very tops of the trees are beginning to turn color.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So as people hurry off to get "up north" and get all the food necessary for a proper barbecue, I shall sit on my deck and relax.  Of course I am working two of the three days, so goes the chaos of retail, but I will still get my barbecue on.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My main goal this weekend is to get the kids ready for school on Tuesday.  Yeah, they are going back.  All the moms shall sigh a sigh of relief and go out to breakfast and smile and the silence in their homes.  It's the most wonderful time of the year.  I love back to school, love it, love it, love it.  I just wish my chicas from AZ were here so we could go and have some coffee.  Yeah me!  Miss my gal pals there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What do you do on Labor Day weekend?  Share the love and the recipes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-7953914001812344957?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/7953914001812344957/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=7953914001812344957' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/7953914001812344957'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/7953914001812344957'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/09/last-hurrah.html' title='The Last Hurrah....'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-5167304717238545250</id><published>2009-09-02T06:05:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-02T06:11:25.245-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bedtimes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school bedtimes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kids fighting with parents'/><title type='text'>You can take the kid out of the fight......</title><content type='html'>But you cannot take the fight out of the kid.  I told my children that bed was at 9:30 last night.  Getting ready for school on tuesday.  Grant fought me tooth and nail.  Man, that kid has tenacity.  But MoooooooooooOOOOOOOm, I won't be able to sleep.  Mom, no, listen, Mom, Mom, Mom.  Gosh, you never listen to me.   MOM, it's not fair.  I am older than Tatum and she is still up.  Mom, what about Tyler?  Mom, how come?  Mom, just listen to me for a minute, MOm.  Geez, no one else is going to bed this early.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The only thing that worked was telling him if he did not get in his room and stay there, he was grounded until school.  Please note, you do not see Cooper in that conversation.  That is because, creature of habit that he is, he was already in bed.  He goes up, brushes his teeth, goes to the bathroom, asks for prayers and goes to bed at 9:00 every night.  Sometimes earlier if he is tired.  All summer he has done this.  I know my day with him is probably coming, but since he likes schedules, maybe not.....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Do you have one certain child who will fight with you about something until the end of the earth?  Share the love.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-5167304717238545250?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/5167304717238545250/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=5167304717238545250' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/5167304717238545250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/5167304717238545250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/09/you-can-take-kid-out-of-fight.html' title='You can take the kid out of the fight......'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-2991993404394308681</id><published>2009-09-01T06:11:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-01T06:30:10.281-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I did it!</title><content type='html'>I just received my second notice on a second story that will be published!  Now I am up to two stories published in three books.  My newest accomplishments come from the Chicken Soup for the Soul enterprise.  I will have two different stories in two different books.  And it's a paying gig.  Yeah me!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So what is my advice to you at this point in my life?  If you have a spark in your heart for something, try it.  Go for it.  Branch out.  Life in not only about paying the bills and trudging through it.  Try.  What has been your dream?  What has held you back from trying.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have always wanted to write, but having three kids in diapers does not leave any time to do anything except keep three kids in clean diapers and make sure your fourth child is not running amok breaking stuff in the house.  I understand if your children are very little that living in that season of your life leaves you very little time for anything else.  But as your children get older, you may find that burning desire in your heart becomes stronger.  Don't let your dream drown in your life.  If I can do it, anyone can.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So what is sparking a small flame in your heart today?  What do you want to be when you grow up, even though, technically, you are grown up?  Spread your wings a little a jump out of the nest.  Try.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-2991993404394308681?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/2991993404394308681/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=2991993404394308681' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/2991993404394308681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/2991993404394308681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/09/i-did-it.html' title='I did it!'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-8906799189195233729</id><published>2009-08-31T06:58:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-31T07:00:20.205-04:00</updated><title type='text'>200 posts??????</title><content type='html'>Wow, seems like yesterday I was sitting at Glorietta Christian writer's conference figuring out what the heck a blog was and how to create one.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think I have written on just about anything and everything related to kids.  And parenting kids, and so on.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I feel blessed to have you all in my life and am going to take today to just be grateful to still be writing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-8906799189195233729?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/8906799189195233729/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=8906799189195233729' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/8906799189195233729'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/8906799189195233729'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/08/200-posts.html' title='200 posts??????'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-2191730082169031176</id><published>2009-08-28T10:12:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-28T10:18:01.088-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Rainy day</title><content type='html'>Why is so hard to get out of bed when it is raining cats and dogs outside.  I want to curl up with a good book and leave the world behind.  I am covered in mosquito bites from last night's hangtime at the Kosek's.  I did use spray, but apparently left out some key areas and now have several bites in those areas, should be an interesting day at work.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am sitting here contemplating life and realize that I love a rainy day.  I takes these days to bake and cook and make the house smell yummy.  I have to do laundry and get ready for work and go pick up Tyler, who spent the night at the Kosek's.  Last hurrah of the summer.  They gave up the idea of sleeping outside somewhere around the ten thousandth mosquito bite.  I hope Stacey survived, all three of her children had friends spend the night, quite a houseful.  I believe at last count it was 19 kids altogether.  God bless her and Dan, I don't think I would have been able to handle that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I must go through the mud to pick up Tyler in the "country" this morning.  Make something for lunch and then go to work.  Maybe it will rain all day and the teenagers will avoid the mall tonight.  Oh well, Hope springs eternal.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What do you do on rainy days?  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-2191730082169031176?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/2191730082169031176/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=2191730082169031176' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/2191730082169031176'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/2191730082169031176'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/08/another-rainy-day.html' title='Another Rainy day'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-2828131574903686380</id><published>2009-08-27T07:58:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-27T08:03:12.164-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sophomore Registration</title><content type='html'>Quick one today, I have to take a shower so I do not embarrass my child at registration.  We go this morning so he can get his picture taken and get his class assignment.  Where did all the time go.  A good friend of mine is saying goodbye to her daughter as she leaves for college today.  So many kids getting ready for new adventures.  Amazing.  Then, last night when I was working, there was a very pregnant woman expecting her first child.  Some days it seems like yesterday when I got the news I was pregnant with Tyler, now he is starting high school.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;First steps, first words, first hurts, first smiles, all so long ago.  I relish the times we spend together now.  Having conversations, sharing Facebook, whatever.  He still doesn't have a cell phone.  Won't get one until he can pay for it himself.  Life sometimes, is not fair.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am off to get in the shower and put on make-up on my day off, a minor miracle really.  I will not cry and make him red in the face.  I will be happy that he has reached another milestone in his life.  I will be happy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-2828131574903686380?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/2828131574903686380/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=2828131574903686380' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/2828131574903686380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/2828131574903686380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/08/sophomore-registration.html' title='Sophomore Registration'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-1402315381786958140</id><published>2009-08-26T10:04:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-26T10:09:13.523-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Rainy days and laundry</title><content type='html'>So, I slept late because it is raining and I kept thinking it was six in the morning.  Nothing like a good sleep in.  That being said, I am a little behind in the laundry thing, so off I go to sort the stuff, wash, dry, fluff and put away the laundry.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Laundry is a never ending task in my world.  Yours too I imagine.  What do the kids actually do in their clothes to make them so dirty.  I cannot fathom it.  Thank God for bleach and all those pre-treating sprays.  I have come to know that I can get everything out except Sharpies.  That's really not too shabby.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I still have ten orphaned socks, cannot find the other one for the life of me.  There are in sock purgatory, with lost other items that will show up at weird times.  Oh well.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I am off to get going on the laundry and finding missing socks.  Making beds and cleaning rooms are the order of the day for the kiddos.  Last summer hang time tomorrow out at the Koseks, cannot wait for that.  Should be a blast.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Have a great day, God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-1402315381786958140?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/1402315381786958140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=1402315381786958140' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/1402315381786958140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/1402315381786958140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/08/rainy-days-and-laundry.html' title='Rainy days and laundry'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-7860573420520432082</id><published>2009-08-25T09:34:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-25T09:53:27.032-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Relying on God</title><content type='html'>In today's world, or at least in our little worlds, we pretty much run everything.  We all know that if momma goes down, everything goes down.  We are very used to being in charge and getting things done.  We do fundraising, we run meetings and businesses, we run PTA's and parents meetings, we meet the teachers, we get the kids where they need to go.  Moms do all these things and we do them well.  I wonder though if sometimes in our need for control, we forget about God.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God has always been in my life.  Even when I walked away from church and faith, I knew He was watching over me.  But I can tell you that it has taken a long time for Him to be the center of my life.  If I am running everything well, why do I need God?  Good question, we are all very good at running our lives and making things run smoothly.  But without God in my center, I sometimes felt I was running out of control.  Satan had an easy mark, because I was so tired.  I gave into sin because I could justify it.  I am not saying I am a sin free person now, that is just foolish.  But I do think I am doing a better job at recognizing it in my life and praying about it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have shared that I read the book "Fasting" by Jentezen Franklin.  Although I was bringing God into my daily life by choosing to start my day in the bible and praying.  Every day I do this to center my self and those around me.  Although this is a daily ritual, I was shocked at how much closer I have gotten to God through fasting.  It opened up an entire new look at my life.  Fasting is part of my "three strands are not easily broken" life.  Give, pray, fast.  Three strands that are keeping me centered in chaos.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You see, my life right now is in chaos.  My mother-in-law through no fault of her own is losing her house.  Scott and I tried to save it and were told it was considered a family bail out.  We can get a mortgage, but no one will give us a mortgage to buy her house.  Thirty banks said no.  So as we began to search for a home, we found the NSP program.  A federally funded program to get foreclosed homes off the market.  As we put in offers, they get rejected or someone got there first.  We need sixty days to close on this type of deal and we have around 45 days left in the house we are in.  Chaos reigns supreme in my life. It seems as if the blackness is closing in.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But as I fast and pray and continue to give, monetarily and through time and talent, I am peaceful.  God is in control.  I am not.  He is working supernaturally to put us in the house that He needs us to be in.  I cannot see all that is going on behind the scenes but He can.  I have let go of this and given it to God.  I still do my part of the work.  I look for houses, go through them, put in offers, run around and get papers signed.  Now, I have to wait and see and pray and hope.  As I come closer to God, He comes closer to me.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So as the chaos I am in errupts, I will be calm, I will pray and know that God is with me.  I release the control to him alone and know that we will all be fine.  We will get the house that God has picked for us.  We will amaze everyone involved by making it happen when it seems it should not, and we will tell them it is by God's grace that these things have happened.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Releasing control to God is the hardest thing I have ever done.  I struggle with it and want to take things back and make them work my way.  In doing that, I could be closing a door that God is opening.  I have to let Him work.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Where is chaos reigning supreme in your life?  Get your bible out, get into a Spirit filled church, and get some good friends around you who support you and will pray for you.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless  you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-7860573420520432082?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/7860573420520432082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=7860573420520432082' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/7860573420520432082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/7860573420520432082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/08/relying-on-god.html' title='Relying on God'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-1913729129926417058</id><published>2009-08-24T09:32:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-24T09:39:38.809-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Getting Ready for Three different schools.</title><content type='html'>Okay, Tyler is in high school, Grant in middle school and the twins at elementary school.  So where does this leave us?  Running around like crazy people and going nuts.  Filling out forms in quadruplcat (sp?) and going to open houses.  Yikes, sounds like madness and it is.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We don't start school here in Michigan until after Labor Day, so it is late this year.  I have two more weeks of at home kids.  So bored with each other that they fight constantly and make me crazy.  I did get them all new shoes.  Except for Tatum, she has inherited my shoe fetish and has way too many shoes.  And hand me downs from all her cousins.  Yikes, she has more shoes than I do.  I was very happy with my extra 30% off at Kohls and the shoes were all on sale, so three pairs of boys/men shoes for 80 bucks is not too bad.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hit all the back to school sales for supplies, don't really need crayons and markers and all that jazz, but needed spiral notebooks, pencils, and paper.  I need folders too, but I just remembered, I did not buy those yet, oops.  I will get those later.  I always buy markers and crayons when they are sale so I do not have to buy them in the middle of the school year for projects.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After all of this, we just wait until the day of school starts.  Yeah!!!!  I may take the day off and go listen to the silence.  I love listening to the silence.  It's my favorite sound.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What have you done to get ready for school?  How are the kiddies doing?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-1913729129926417058?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/1913729129926417058/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=1913729129926417058' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/1913729129926417058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/1913729129926417058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/08/getting-ready-for-three-different.html' title='Getting Ready for Three different schools.'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-6164915495747041561</id><published>2009-08-21T09:09:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-21T09:21:22.292-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Why do what you do?</title><content type='html'>Interesting.... our new youth pastor asked us to go around the table and explain why we work with the youth group.  Most of us have felt called by God to be there.  The funny thing is, God called us all in very different ways.  He works like that a lot of the time.  I think the point is to come when He calls.  It's never easy, but it's always worth it.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was "called" when my children wanted to go to winter church camp.  We did not have the money, but I had heard there were "scholarships" available.  So I went up to Pastor Tim and asked him about it and then told him I would do all the fundraising for the mission trip.  Silly girl, fundraising is for people who have time.  I did not.  That being said, between the cookie dough fundraiser, the silent auction/spaghetti dinner, the car washes and the mission letters going out, we raised all we needed to raise.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Somewhere in the middle of all that chaos, I fell in love with these kids.  So when PT asked me if I would be interested in being a leader at our summer church camp, Velocity, I said yes.  Then I fell in love even more.  These kids' hearts are on fire for God it is amazing to watch.  How could I NOT be a part of it.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So where is God calling you today?  Share the love.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-6164915495747041561?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/6164915495747041561/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=6164915495747041561' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/6164915495747041561'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/6164915495747041561'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/08/why-do-what-you-do.html' title='Why do what you do?'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-6543175916859868741</id><published>2009-08-20T15:34:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-20T15:39:26.152-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Had to get Squished</title><content type='html'>Sorry so late today.  Between writing up yet another offer to a bank for a foreclosed home and going to the doctor's today, this is it.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I had my mammogram today.  Blech.  Necessary and all that, but jeez louise, I hate it.  And then, the first squish was not good enough and they had to do it again.  Oh, and relax.  Oh, and don't breathe.  Man, at least it was a gal.  I often wonder if there are any men doing mammograms.  Wouldn't that get awkward?  I mean, they have to position every thing just so.  And my girls are not what they were  before children.  I think I would rather die than have a guy do that.  I'm just saying.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Other than that, I had to have an ultrasound because of my really bad, really heavy monthly friends.  Who is really no friend of all.  I mean, I am done having children, why do I have to have periods.  I have not had an ultrasound since the twins, and all that with a full bladder.  Again, I say, Blech.  Oh well, hopefully this gets me closer to a solution.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What's new in your medical world?  Is there anything more embarrassing than being a girl?  Just asking.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-6543175916859868741?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/6543175916859868741/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=6543175916859868741' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/6543175916859868741'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/6543175916859868741'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/08/had-to-get-squished.html' title='Had to get Squished'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-3411841504620485934</id><published>2009-08-19T06:12:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-19T06:23:59.108-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lighten the load'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='God&apos;s peace'/><title type='text'>If God is for us, who can stand against us?</title><content type='html'>As my life gets more chaotic, I find myself, at odd times going to my bible to seek comfort.  Since I usually seek comfort in brownies or some kind of chocolate and then, as an afterthought, go to God, this is a new one for me.  Going to God first is becoming a habit of mine that I want to keep.  I am embracing all the comfort of knowing I have a heavenly father that watches over my every step.  And knowing that all things happen in His perfect time, not my own.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That's a tough one to wrap my mind around.  His perfect timing.  We understand it once we come through something hard.  Being in the middle of something hard, it is not so easy to understand God' timing.  We have the perfect solutions, if only He would show up.  It is humbling to come to a place and know that He is showing up right on time.  His time is not our time.  We just wish He would hurry the heck up sometimes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As the things of this world weigh us down, let us all lighten our loads a little bit.  Go to God and receive his peace.  Which, according to the bible, we cannot fathom the depth of His peace, if we go to Him and ask for it.  Our Heavenly Father wants to know what we are going through and help us through it.  We just have to accept it.  Receive His Peace.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I encourage you all to go to God with all your stuff.  The small stuff too.  I truly believe He just wants the conversation to start.  No fancy words, just a lightening of our hearts.  Stand in the shadow of His protection.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-3411841504620485934?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/3411841504620485934/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=3411841504620485934' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/3411841504620485934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/3411841504620485934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/08/if-god-is-for-us-who-can-stand-against.html' title='If God is for us, who can stand against us?'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-7249404147430365594</id><published>2009-08-18T08:14:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-18T08:24:04.927-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Maxed Out</title><content type='html'>So, between looking for a house, getting ready for school, sleep overs, teenagers, and all the rest, I am a little maxed out.  I know we have all been on this precipice before.  Standing on the edge, knowing something very small could pitch us over it.  Usually, during these times, I like to hibernate.  That is so, if I do go bonkers, I do not offend those around me.  I don't have time to hibernate, so someone could get offended.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It could be the teenager who has become accustomed to telling me what he thinks he is going to do instead of asking.  It could be the surly co-worker, who is so miserable, I believe that this person will die alone with hundreds of cats.  It could be my brother in law's dog whom we babysit every day, who at this present time is jumping on me and trying to get me to pet him, thus messing up my typing.  All these have a decent shot at throwing me over the edge.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you add in that I have been up since three in the morning because I woke up thinking about all that is going on in my life, and tossed and turned until I just got up to read my bible.  That helped a lot, but I am still exhausted.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What do you do when you are maxed out?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-7249404147430365594?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/7249404147430365594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=7249404147430365594' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/7249404147430365594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/7249404147430365594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/08/maxed-out.html' title='Maxed Out'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-2856051235089374193</id><published>2009-08-17T09:16:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-17T09:18:23.800-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sorry no blog</title><content type='html'>Sorry, we have a family emergency, my mother in law's sister in law was in a car accident yesterday in the morning.  Someone ran a red light.  She is 75 and has two broken legs, at the hospital late last night and have to work this morning.  Please pray for Aunt Margie, she is spunky, but 75 and her right femur is smashed and her left tibia is smashed.  Not exaggerating, saw the x-rays.  Have a great day, God bless.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-2856051235089374193?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/2856051235089374193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=2856051235089374193' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/2856051235089374193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/2856051235089374193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/08/sorry-no-blog.html' title='Sorry no blog'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-4114633527314817787</id><published>2009-08-13T09:09:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-13T09:15:56.608-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Blessed with Teenagers</title><content type='html'>So, for whatever reason, this week, I am the kool-aid house.  Last night was movie night at our house for a lot of kids that are friends of Tyler's and happen to be in our youth group.  For whatever reason, they don't like scary movies, but it is a tradition to watch scary movies.  Karley brought her own blanket to hide under.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The only thing I asked was that they pick up a little.  To my shock and amazement, they did! Cameron and Rico slept over.  Rico is not his real name, but there are two Erics in youth group, so Rico is Rico.  As in "It's boom boom time Rico".  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As of August 15, in preparation for school, there will be no more sleep overs.  Sorry to be such a drag, but there you go.  I know they did not go to bed before three in the morning.  And I hate crabby kids. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know I have said it before, but I love having all these kids around.  It probably helps that I got to know most of them at Velocity and know their hearts are on God.  I did start to watch the movie, 1408 with John Cusack.  I am a huge John Cusack fan.  But just when it got really creepy, I went the heck to bed.  No creepiness for me.  I like my sleep too much.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So who is hanging out at your house this summer?  Share the love.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-4114633527314817787?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/4114633527314817787/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=4114633527314817787' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/4114633527314817787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/4114633527314817787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/08/blessed-with-teenagers.html' title='Blessed with Teenagers'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-5046642928309655551</id><published>2009-08-12T06:07:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-12T06:18:37.563-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Redonna cheese crisp'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tacos'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='teenagers'/><title type='text'>Hey, I cooked for something.....</title><content type='html'>So yesterday, due to vacations, Tyler's bible study group was at our house.  Since many families are on vacation, about ten kids showed up, mostly my chicas.  That would be chicas por Jesus from Velocity.  Fun times.  Then, Pastor Tim took Tyler and two of the gals to the mall.  I said I would make tacos for dinner and they all came back and ate them.  Then the hubby got home with his brother Keith and Grant had Elijah sleeping over, so it was worth it to cook.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tacos are easy and healthy.  Lean ground beef, cook it up and add the seasoning.  Chop up some lettuce and tomatoes.  Sour cream and I found the bonus, guacamole in my freezer.  Soft tortillas, we are a soft taco family.  Queso dip and chips.  Shredded cheese.  I normally make home made salsa, but I did not have the stuff on hands, a great alternative is Chuck and Dave's fresh stuff.  You can get a really big one at Sam's club.  Then it is just pile on what you like.  You can even make nachos if you like.  Really, it's a twenty minute meal. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh, I did make Redonna cheese crisps or quesadillas.  See, I used to just throw some shredded cheese on a tortilla and stick it in the microwave.  That was until my small children went to my friends house.  She puts butter on two tortillas, cheese in the middle and fries it in a pan like a grilled cheese sandwich.  Crispy yumminess and you cannot go back to limp, hotness from the microwave.  Then I cut them up with a pizza cutter and wahlah, Redonna cheese crisp.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, tacos for a crowd went well.  I love a full kitchen, especially full of teenagers.  Love it.  Oh, we had ice cream for dessert.  PT had two kinds, it is his weakness after all.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hope your kitchen gets filled to the rim soon.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-5046642928309655551?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/5046642928309655551/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=5046642928309655551' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/5046642928309655551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/5046642928309655551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/08/hey-i-cooked-for-something.html' title='Hey, I cooked for something.....'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-2102085104762762855</id><published>2009-08-11T07:01:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T07:12:30.255-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I cook for nothing</title><content type='html'>As a working mom, sometimes I feel guilty that my kids don't get home cooking.  Sometimes I feel so guilty, I make a wonderful dinner.  That is usually the day that my husband comes home and says, "I had a late lunch, looks great, but I am not hungry".  The kids are eating over their friends houses and all my hard work goes into the fridge as leftovers.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This summer, I have discovered that kids like carnival food.  Any day I get out the deep fryer and make chicken nuggets, french fries and cheese sticks, they are happy.  I cannot, in all good motherhood, do this more than once or twice a month.  My kids would die of a heart attack by the time they were twenty.  Hey, everyone loves the deep fried stuff.  Of course we do, or we would not go to the state fair for elephant ears and indian fry bread.  Or deep fried twinkies.  I actually tried one of those, all I can say is, not worth it.  Totally disgusting.  Now, a real, dipped, deep fried corn dog, that I can do.  There is something magical about it.  Crispy yumminess, dipped in mustard, so good.  Baking frozen corn dogs out of a box do not compare to deep fried freshly dipped ones.  Hmmmmmm, when is the state fair?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, after grilling and salad making and Sunday dinners and all my hard work, all they really want is carnival food.  Well, being a mom, I must shove something healthy down their gullets, or it's just wrong.  Every time I see some child with pop or kool-aid in a bottle, I want to talk to the mom.  Not that pop and kool-aid are bad, they should just be used in moderation, not as a daily drink for hydration.  And I don't think they ever belong in a bottle.  Just my opinion, but seriously, come on.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So what's for dinner tonight you ask?  It is my day off from my other job, so I will grill out whatever meat is on sale.  Marinate it in Italian dressing.  Make a cole-slaw/ramen salad, and maybe some roasted potatoes.  See?  Protein, green stuff, potatoes.  Nice balance.  The deep fryer shall wait for another day.  Oooooohhhhh, I have watermelon for desert.  Not the healthiest of fruits, but hey, it's summer.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What are you making for dinner?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-2102085104762762855?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/2102085104762762855/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=2102085104762762855' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/2102085104762762855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/2102085104762762855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/08/i-cook-for-nothing.html' title='I cook for nothing'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-3269550878213843013</id><published>2009-08-10T08:36:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-10T08:40:17.324-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='routines'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sleeping in'/><title type='text'>Let the groaning begin....</title><content type='html'>In an effort to get my children ready for school, we have started cutting back on their curfews and bedtimes.  Also, the time they get up in the morning.  After many years of trying to wake children up on the first four weeks of school, starting this procedure a couple of weeks early seems to work out.  They hate it. They push it.  They try to stay up late with lame excuses.  I don't fall for it.  These kids have to get up early now so they can get up early then.  The end.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Of course, this means no sleeping in for me either.  That five in the morning alarm is going to start going off again.  Why did I ever stop getting up at five?  It is hard to get up at five and keep going.  Especially since I gave up caffeine and I cannot have my coffee.  Coffee good, stomach bad.  Oh well.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What routines do you start doing before school?  Do you let your kids sleep in to the bitter end?  Or do you try to get them into school mode a little early?  Let me know.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-3269550878213843013?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/3269550878213843013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=3269550878213843013' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/3269550878213843013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/3269550878213843013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/08/let-groaning-begin.html' title='Let the groaning begin....'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-8996639654203425181</id><published>2009-08-07T09:07:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-07T09:19:46.221-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='please and thank you'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rudeness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='manners'/><title type='text'>Manners</title><content type='html'>As I work at Starbucks and serve countless people in a day, I am dumbfounded by their lack of manners.  Mostly teenagers, but lately, old and young alike, have lost their ability to be kind and courteous.  This results in me coming home on a friday night after working, waking Tyler from a dead sleep and lecturing him to make sure my kids do not act like mongrels.  When did the manners stop?  I actually came home yesterday hating the public at large.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know as I sat at my dinner table, I had to ask politely, "could you pass the peas please?" and once they hit my hand, I had to say thank you.  I want to know why parents stopped teaching their children manners.  I did not.  My kids are polite.  Total strangers tell me how polite my children are, so I am pretty confident in this.  Manners begin in your home, period.  Please and thank you should be uttered thoughtlessly, not eliminated from their vocabulary.  If one more teenager asks me to "get me a strawberry frappacino" I think I shall ask for the magic word.  "What's the magic word?"  I don't care if there is a line out the door every friday, I must take a stand for humanity and insist on the magic word.  Then, I think the bar person should physically hold the frappacino hostage until the other magic word is uttered, thank you.  Such a small amount of effort to be polite and we all have fallen short some how.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am constantly amazed at the children of today and how much they lack in manners, common etiquette, and the simple matter of being around adults.  Most cannot hold a conversation without including all the texting synonyms.  Some cannot spell, because of the same synonyms.  Omg, idk what to do with these kids.  Most teenagers cannot even order properly because they are texting at the same time.  Rude, rude, rude.  We have to put it to a stop.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If my mother and I were in a line and I was a teenager and I was rude I know she would have slapped me silly, made me apologize and then slapped me again.  Rudeness is running rampant and I want to know when this started.  Because most of my friends discipline as I do, I know you are all going to agree with me, but is anyone out there who would like to get on a soap box and tell me why manners are not important?  Just checking.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-8996639654203425181?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/8996639654203425181/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=8996639654203425181' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/8996639654203425181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/8996639654203425181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/08/manners.html' title='Manners'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-5974210101212220567</id><published>2009-08-06T07:59:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-06T08:07:27.399-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Reading'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Saturdays with Stella'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Allsion Pittman'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stealing Home'/><title type='text'>A Summer Reading Suggestion.</title><content type='html'>Okay, first, sorry for no blog yesterday.  I had to get up at midnight to go get the boys from their Cedar Point trip and then I had to open Starbucks.  I could barely see straight, let alone blog about anything that was worth reading.  Missed you guys too.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Second, you &lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;have &lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;read Stealing Home by Allison Pittman.  Even if you don't read historical romance.  Even if you don't read Christian historical romance.  Her blend of characters, brutally honesty in writing and the story are worth picking this book up.  I have to be honest and tell you I only picked it up because I met Allison at the Glorietta Christian Writers Seminar and we have become friends.  We should all support our friends.  I am not a big reader of Christian fiction.  That being said,  I loved this book.  Could not put it down and it caused many a late night before I finished it.  Great read.  Perfect for a quiet afternoon on the beach or poolside.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love finding a new author that I like.  Knowing her personally only makes it better.  She works very hard on her craft, something that I know is not easy to do.  I have also read her book, Saturdays with Stella, which is non-fiction.  Also, a great read, especially if you are wrestling to find your place in God's family.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, I encourage you to go out and get Stealing Home, you will enjoy it.  What are you reading around the pool this summer?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-5974210101212220567?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/5974210101212220567/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=5974210101212220567' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/5974210101212220567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/5974210101212220567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/08/summer-reading-suggestion.html' title='A Summer Reading Suggestion.'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-2354578948411257805</id><published>2009-08-04T08:42:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-04T08:49:50.346-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='curfews'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sleeping late'/><title type='text'>What the........</title><content type='html'>As I roll over last night I hear something in the bathroom.  Check the clock, it's 1:30 in the morning.  I realize the sounds coming from the bathroom are my son's nightly rituals for getting ready for bed.  Huh?  It's one thirty in the morning, he should be in bed.  Especially because they had to get up at 5:30 to go to Cedar Point with our youth group.  So I ask you, am I crazy?  I know teenagers like to stay up late, but what I cannot figure out is why?  Sleep is good, sleep is fun, sleep is necessary.  He knew he would not be able to sleep in, so why stay up so late?  I don't get it.  I really don't.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then I realized he had been out skateboarding all day and had not checked in.  Wrong answer.  I asked him this morning when he got home and I believe he was home at curfew.  But I dropped him off at like one in the afternoon.  Not a word all day.  I know he is all of fifteen and can handle himself, but really, throw the momma a bone here.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, here I sit, perplexed, do I make him wake me up when he gets home, so I know he is safe and sound?  Do I rely on his word, which is pretty honest if I do say so myself.  He will use this as an excuse to say he should have a cell phone, then I could a hold of him whenever I wanted.  That is not going to happen.  All his friends have cell phones, I can always embarrass him and call one of them.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am not sure I will survive these teenage years.  Yikes.  I wonder if God gives us teenagers to teach us perseverance.  Good question when I get to heaven.  My only hope is that I know someday, hopefully years from now, I will laugh at him handling his own teenagers.  That will be worth the wait.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-2354578948411257805?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/2354578948411257805/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=2354578948411257805' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/2354578948411257805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/2354578948411257805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/08/what.html' title='What the........'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-7936901190424448045</id><published>2009-08-03T08:44:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-03T08:50:39.764-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='home made laundry soap'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the older the better'/><title type='text'>Okay, the laundry soap is a go</title><content type='html'>IT WORKS.  My clothes are whiter and brighter.  I cannot believe I did not find this sooner.  What a God send.  Saving money, I mean tons and tons of money and it works really really well.  I was a little skeptical.  I mean, who can really make ten gallons of laundry soap for two dollars?  Well, I can.  And I will from now on, so worth the maybe half an hour it takes to whip up.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was a little scared when I uncovered it Saturday morning and there was a gelatinous mess in a bucket.  Then I followed directions and stirred it up, divvied it up with half water, half stirred up stuff and now I use it every day and it is wonderful.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All the stuff in the recipe is stuff our grandmas used.  Borax, Fels-Naptha soap bar, washing soda.  The stuff they used  before commercials told you that you needed the newer and the better.  Well, the older stuff is just as good or better in my opinion.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Again, I call out, what do you do to save money?  Let me know.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-7936901190424448045?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/7936901190424448045/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=7936901190424448045' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/7936901190424448045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/7936901190424448045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/08/okay-laundry-soap-is-go.html' title='Okay, the laundry soap is a go'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-8102827169480872782</id><published>2009-07-31T09:05:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-31T09:13:50.069-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='home made laundry soap'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='saving money'/><title type='text'>Making homemade laundry soap.....</title><content type='html'>Okay, my friend Bonnie, on her facebook, but this link on how to make homemade laundry soap.  Two dollars for ten gallons.  I am going to give it a try.  It takes about a half an hour and has to sit overnight, but at that kind of savings, I am willing to try it.  The link for the recipe is http://www.duggarfamily.com/recipes.html.  I hope this helps anyone with the time and inclination to save some money.  Bonnie also swears by their second fabric softener trick, so I am trying that too.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What are you doing to save money?  What are you willing to try?  I am trying this, Bonnie has been using it for the last couple of months, so why not?  I would love for all of us to share our money saving tips here in the comments section.  And if you try the laundry soap, let me know about it.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In today's economy, we have to buckle down.  Five years ago, if you told me I would be making laundry soap, I would have said you are out of your cotton picking mind.  Now, I am willing to try it to save at least twenty dollars a month on the stuff.  We get our movies from the library, no renting for us.  Why rent when you get them for free?  You do have to wait for new releases, but there are so many great old ones, who cares?  We also do our book shopping at the library.  We eat the meat that is on special, the fruit that is on special and if we have a coupon, all the better.  Teaching our children the value of a dollar is only helping them later in life. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, share the love and pass the coupons.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-8102827169480872782?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/8102827169480872782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=8102827169480872782' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/8102827169480872782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/8102827169480872782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/07/making-homemade-laundry-soap.html' title='Making homemade laundry soap.....'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-8595235280075847881</id><published>2009-07-30T10:27:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-30T10:36:21.971-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='teenage driving'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='accidents'/><title type='text'>Okay, driving, day two</title><content type='html'>So yesterday was library day.  Tyler asked if he could drive, I said yes, being the cool mom that I am.  Cooper sat in the backseat with his blanket over his head.  As we headed out, about one minute into our trip, I gave Tyler a heads up.  He was not stopping and traffic was.  He is still not stopping, I start yelling.  All of a sudden, I have both hands on the roof of the van and my foot is on the dashboard and I am yelling, STOP, STOP, TYLER, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD STOP, at the top of my voice.  He starts to stop and comes to a complete stop about one inch from the next guys bumper.  Cooper starts crying in the back seat.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Not a good moment for me.  I am supposed to be teaching him to drive and be calm and all that.  But the guy who taught him to drive at driver's education had a brake on his side of the car, I don't. I need one.  I may not survive this whole thing.  Man, I cannot believe I freaked out like that, but he was not stopping.  Not stopping.  Then later, when it was time to go to VBS, I would not let him drive because it was rush hour.  Someone please back me up on this.  It is only his second day.  I got the look of death and the silent treatment, all the way there.  I cannot win with this battle.  I am the adult though, and I can survive the death looks.  This is not my first rodeo, but it is my first time teaching him to drive.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As visions of accidents run through my head, I am perplexed as how to proceed in this matter.  I know he has to drive to learn, but am I really the one who needs to do it?  I know I am, but man, I may not survive it.  Truly, I could have a heart attack in the seat next to him.  Then what?  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyone one out there dealing with this driving situation?  Help me out please, I need some advice.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-8595235280075847881?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/8595235280075847881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=8595235280075847881' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/8595235280075847881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/8595235280075847881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/07/okay-driving-day-two.html' title='Okay, driving, day two'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-1711118111403958773</id><published>2009-07-29T10:37:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-29T10:43:00.181-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='balance'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='smiles'/><title type='text'>Watching Tyler drive....</title><content type='html'>So, off we went yesterday to the Secretary of State to get Tyler's permit.  An hour later, we walked out with permit in hand.  He looked so happy.  True joy was on his face.  Loved it.  I asked him if he wanted to drive and he smiled so big and said yes.  He did a great job too, I was proud of him.  A little jerky, but hey, he did great.  It was his first time driving the mini-van.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As a jaded teenager, finding a true smile can be challenging.  That was a true smile.  It made me happy to make him happy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Isn't that what we try to do every day?  Make our kids happy, but balance it with not spoiling them.  If we spoil them, the true smiles are not so true and not so much.  They don't need everything they want to be happy.  If we gave them everything they want, I think that leads to a great deal of unhappiness, because they are never satisfied.  So balance is the answer.  It is like walking a tight rope, but I think it is worth it in the end.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So what today, can you do to bring a smile to your child's face?  Bake some cookies?  Go to the pool?  Have a sleepover?  Small things that make a difference.  Share what you are doing today, I really want to know.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-1711118111403958773?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/1711118111403958773/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=1711118111403958773' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/1711118111403958773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/1711118111403958773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/07/watching-tyler-drive.html' title='Watching Tyler drive....'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-3631897961018598060</id><published>2009-07-28T09:40:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-28T09:46:33.463-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='teenage drivers'/><title type='text'>Driver's Permit</title><content type='html'>Today is the day.  My baby, my Tyty, my T-bone, gets his permit.  If I can clearly, in my head, see his first steps, then how did we get to here??  I have to hurry in this blog, so we can go and he can drive home.  Oh my gosh, I may vomit.  When does this whole parenting thing get easier?  Oh yeah, I remember, never.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, I don't have to add him to our insurance for his permit, but when he gets his license, my insurance will probably double.  Yikes.  He is going to have to get a job.  At least in the summer and weekends in the school year.  I did, I was snack bar girl at Roller World.  Not a great job, but, hey, it paid the bills.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I guess I am okay with Tyler driving.  He did take driver's training and has driven 20 hours there with an instructor.  The instructor had a set of brakes on his side of the car though, and I do not.  I may just shut my eyes and hope for the best.  He is a good kid, doesn't panic, should be all right.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If by any chance, you hear some story on the news tonight about a mom in Michigan, who panicked and took the wheel from her newly permitted son and caused a twenty car pile-up, film at eleven, please just ignore the fact that it is me.  Pray for me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Off into the abyss.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-3631897961018598060?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/3631897961018598060/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=3631897961018598060' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/3631897961018598060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/3631897961018598060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/07/drivers-permit.html' title='Driver&apos;s Permit'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-7221228487682316717</id><published>2009-07-27T08:37:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-27T08:49:11.164-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shaving legs for the first time.'/><title type='text'>Mommy, Can I shave my legs???????</title><content type='html'>Okay, AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.  Now that I have gotten that out of my system........My baby girl, age eleven, going into sixth grade, wants to shave her legs.  She is not all that hairy, and the hair on her legs is blonde.  That being said, I think it about the right time.  At first, when your little girl asks this question, you see her in diapers again.  You see her taking her first steps.  You see her at age three with the little page boy haircut.  You see her cutting her own bangs at that same age, right down to the scalp.  She is my little girl.  My only girl.  My baby angel.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now, I have to take stock in the entire situation.  Most girls her age have either already started shaving their legs, or will some time in sixth grade.  I have asked all the girls in our youth group, every mom I know and reflected on my own past.  My mother was a teacher at the school I attended K-8.  She was also my math and english teacher grades 5-8.  This experience scarred me for life.  And no, I am not kidding.  Add to the equation that it was Catholic school and the pieces all fall neatly into place.  All I wanted to do was fit it.  All most of the kids there wanted to do was torture my middle school psyche.  So I have some clue as to what it is like to be the odd girl out.  It sucks beyond measure.  There are no other words for it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, tomorrow, on my morning off, I will go buy my little girl a razor ( I have a coupon), and on Wednesday, when I have the whole day off and can repair my emotional spirit, I will sit on our bathroom counter in my bathing suit, and she in hers, and I will teach my child how to shave her legs.  I will not do what my mother did and just hand me a Daisy pink razor of death and send me off to the showers.  I will show her how to be careful around the knees and the outside of your ankle (I still bear the scars of countless scrapings there).  I will teach her with soap, not shaving cream.  There is always soap in the shower, rarely have I seen shaving cream.  She will learn that once you start, you have to keep up this little habit the rest of your life or until your ninth month of pregnancy.  Then you just go hairy and don't care.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyone out there know what I am talking about?  Share the love and pass the bandaids.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-7221228487682316717?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/7221228487682316717/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=7221228487682316717' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/7221228487682316717'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/7221228487682316717'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/07/mommy-can-i-shave-my-legs.html' title='Mommy, Can I shave my legs???????'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-4182284572249300163</id><published>2009-07-24T07:46:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-24T07:56:33.295-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the lake'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='weekends.'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tubing the salt river'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fridays'/><title type='text'>Yeah, it's Friday....</title><content type='html'>So today has so much going on.  I do love a Friday.  Mostly because I don't work Saturdays and it is the one day I have to sleep in and enjoy myself.  So really, I love Saturday, but I digress.  Today, I don't have to work until 6:30 tonight.  Today, my son comes home from his missions trip.  Today, I will work on my new book a little more.  Yeah me.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think the love of fridays goes back to school and the wonderfulness of weekends.  Even if you had homework, you could put it off for two days.  No classes, no stuff, just the weekend with friends and fun.  Love it.  If you are in Arizona, and it is close to summer, that means a trip to the lake or tubing down the Salt River.  Fun, fun, fun.  The lakes here in Michigan are huge, they actually have waves.  I have no idea how anyone can have fun water skiing on these lakes, the chop is immense.  In Arizona, you can actually see the other side of the lake, and most of the lakes are surrounded by mountains, love it.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tubing the Salt river in Arizona is something everyone should do at least once.  Just wear your tennis shoes, or really, your river shoes.  Once you have worn some shoes to tube, those are your tubing shoes.  You cannot really get the funk out, and you will need lace up shoes that won't fall off.  You should start your tubing at the dam and go to the bridge.  It will take three to four hours, which is a nice ride.  If someone says "Butts up"  that means it is rocky and to get your butt up or it will get bruised.  No matter how much you get dared, do NOT jump off the water tower.  Once you go up, there is only one way down and that is to jump.  And if the sheriff sees you, he will ticket you.  It is very, very far up there.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What fun weekend things did you do in high school?  Any traditions out there?  Share the love.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-4182284572249300163?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/4182284572249300163/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=4182284572249300163' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/4182284572249300163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/4182284572249300163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/07/yeah-its-friday.html' title='Yeah, it&apos;s Friday....'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-80444752991855809</id><published>2009-07-23T07:44:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-23T07:50:12.391-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sleepless nights'/><title type='text'>No sleep</title><content type='html'>Okay, if I start to ramble, I have had almost no sleep.  My dear hubby is out of town on business and I could not sleep for the life of me last night.  Up until midnight and just tossing and turning all night.  It is so weird.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Whenever Scott is out of town, I do not sleep well.  This is odd because it is not as if we are these huge snuggle bunnies.  He gives off so much heat, I need my own side of the bed or I sweat like a pig.  I do have to hold his hand or touch him in some way to fall asleep.  But I truly like my side of the bed.  Sleep is sacred.  And now I have to go to work and attempt to make frappacinos with no sleep.  Should be interesting.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ever since the twins started sleeping through the night, I love sleep.  I need it.  I try to sleep 8-10 hours a night.  Today is going to be very, very, hard.  I inherited insomnia from my mother, so I do take a sleep aid, even that did not work last night.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Any of you out there know what I am talking about?  Can you sleep without your hubby there?  Do you sleep better when he is not there?  Share the love.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-80444752991855809?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/80444752991855809/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=80444752991855809' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/80444752991855809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/80444752991855809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/07/no-sleep.html' title='No sleep'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-5391527763011975318</id><published>2009-07-22T09:17:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-22T09:24:10.605-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='our boys'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='reach out'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hello from afar'/><title type='text'>A video hello from Tyler</title><content type='html'>Okay, so I was excited to open my email today and see a video hello from Tyler.  He is on his mission trip.  He is not even seven hours away.  It was a sweet message, just a hello, things are going great, and I love you.  I cried like a baby.  He hasn't even been gone a week and will be home Friday and I am a mess with one little video hello. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It made me wonder about all those mothers during WWII or Vietnam, who waited anxiously for any kind of word from their boys.  What strength and faith they must have had.  Weeks could go  by and they would not hear from their child, then, a letter with familiar writing.  How their hearts must have soared at just that little piece of paper.  How does a mother write back and tell her son to be brave in horrible circumstances?  What words can give comfort from so many miles away?  Mothers sent cookies and goodies and little things from home.  Receiving these things must have been awesome.  My dad smoked when he was in Korea.  I remember him vividly, years later, thanking my grandmother for all the care packages with cigarettes and cookies and such.  Small things from home mean so much.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So who is out of your sight today and how much do you miss them?  Send a letter, a fax, an email, but let them know you love them.  Reach out and touch someone today.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-5391527763011975318?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/5391527763011975318/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=5391527763011975318' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/5391527763011975318'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/5391527763011975318'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/07/video-hello-from-tyler.html' title='A video hello from Tyler'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-2535107718918687212</id><published>2009-07-21T09:15:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-21T09:23:05.323-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='losing child at the park'/><title type='text'>I am missing a child</title><content type='html'>So weird, Tyler on his mission trip.  I keep expecting him to walk through the door.  Also, there is not as much laundry.  Very odd.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I always remember being at the park and one of my kids had a sleepover and was not there.  You have a moment of panic when you are counting heads and one is missing.  You start to run around look for your missing child, only to remember that they are somewhere else, perfectly safe.  Is there any worse feeling that not finding your child?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I will share how I lost one of my kids.  Nothing is more terrifying.  I only had Tyler and a friend and I met halfway at a park to visit.  I was not familiar with the park and the kids went off to play.  Michelle and I were talking and suddenly, I look up, and no Tyler.  You know those scenes in the movies where they pan the whole park and the music swells and there is no child.  That was me on that day.  Michelle tells me not to panic, but I do.  I look to the parking lot to make sure he is not being stuffed into a trunk.  I start running around and yelling his name.  I ask other people if they have seen him.  Suddenly, he pops out of one of those covered slides.  He had been hanging out in the shade and wondered what all the fuss was about.  The whole process took about two minutes, but I will never forget it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Have you ever lost a child?  Will you admit it?  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know Tyler is not being kidnapped this week, he is doing God's work.  That being said, I miss my kid.  Love him too.  And I sit here hoping he is missing me, just a little bit.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-2535107718918687212?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/2535107718918687212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=2535107718918687212' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/2535107718918687212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/2535107718918687212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/07/i-am-missing-child.html' title='I am missing a child'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-264608633608910572</id><published>2009-07-20T09:23:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-20T09:34:18.393-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='graduation parties; food'/><title type='text'>Graduation Parties</title><content type='html'>It is a phenomenon here in Michigan, at least I had never been to a graduation party of such magnitude in Arizona.  People here throw very nice, very wonderful graduation parties.  Some elaborate, some not so much.  Some rent out parks, some do tents in the backyard.  I have been to five this year, including one yesterday for my nephew Chad.  It was at his aunt Kim's house and it was very nice.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Everyone was different.  Everyone had so much food, you ate yourself sick in no time.  All had some kind of picture montage of the kids growing up.  So wonderful to see the little ones grow up over the years.  All had some kind of box or basket for cards.  And there was always a cake.  A lot of cake, eat some cake, take some cake home, have some more cake.  Cake.  I personally, love cake and I am sick to death of it.  Not that I won't have a slice, I am just a little sick of Costco cakes with the cheesecake filling.  Just about every party had the cheesecake filling.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was almost like a wedding.  All the relatives that you never see, coming over to celebrate.  Really kind of neat.  And all of us giving what we could to help these kids with college expenses and so forth.  It was great.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't know if I was unaware of grad parties in Arizona or if we just don't do them on such a large scale.  One party had 300 people at any given time there.  Big families and so forth.  Makes me shudder at the cost of the wedding, but that is the future and this is now.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, Tyler will be graduating in three years.  I have to say, we will be having a graduation party for him.  Probably put up some tents, have Scott man the grill and make more salads and beans and desserts than you can stand.  Veggie trays and fruit trays and so forth.  Tents and tables and whatnot.  Not because we "have" to, but it is a great accomplishment.  When he graduates college, we will send up a smoke signal.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What do you do about graduation?  Ever thrown a grad party?  Planning one soon?  Share the love.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-264608633608910572?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/264608633608910572/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=264608633608910572' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/264608633608910572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/264608633608910572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/07/graduation-parties.html' title='Graduation Parties'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-3456094432406954937</id><published>2009-07-17T08:12:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-17T08:17:58.340-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='missions trip'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='prayer'/><title type='text'>The Mission Trip</title><content type='html'>So, today, I must help Tyler pack for his mission trip.  It is the second time he is going on one and I am proud of him and all the kids going.  They have to raise money to go and serve others, and they did it, over $17,000.00.  Awesome.  This year they head off to Indianapolis to the inner city to help those in need.  They do whatever is asked of them, no chore to small or too big.  I love it.  God has not called me to go on a missions trip, but I totally appreciate those that are going.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So can we lift up these kids in prayer?  Ask for safety and God's hand in it all?  Please also pray for Kevin O'Drisscol, he was supposed to go, but cannot due to the fact he has mono AND strep throat.  Kevin gave his life to Christ at Velocity and really wanted to be on this mission trip.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Pray for our leaders that are going.  Speaking as a leader of these kids, they are great, but a big group and the leaders need to keep them in check and on task, so lift them up too.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Have you ever been on a missions trip?  Would you go again?  Did you love it or not so much?  Share the love.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-3456094432406954937?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/3456094432406954937/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=3456094432406954937' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/3456094432406954937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/3456094432406954937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/07/mission-trip.html' title='The Mission Trip'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-3525350384059632925</id><published>2009-07-16T08:18:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-16T08:25:08.888-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='finances'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='books'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cheating financially'/><title type='text'>Need some help.....</title><content type='html'>Okay, I am writing a new book on how we as spouses "cheat" financially.  Make a purchase without telling the other person.  Hide it, hide the debt, those kind of things.  If anyone or all of you have a story about that and wouldn't mind sharing it, please email me.  No names will be in the book, I just need some more material than my own harrowing story.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It is more common than we think, picking something up for yourself or the kids and not wanting to fight about how much money you spent, so you keep that to yourself and justify it in your mind.  I am writing about my own slip down that slope and how to get out of it and stay out of it.  It's going to be Christian based and for married couples or couples just starting out.  Men do it to, it's not just us gals.  So if you have a story about your hubby, let me know that too.  It is NOT a book about how dumb us poor gals are and how we just can't figure out money.  That went out the window long, long ago.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, if you don't mind sharing, send me an email.  Remember, no names will be used in the book, so no worries.  My email is kayklebba@gmail.com  Thanks alot.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-3525350384059632925?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/3525350384059632925/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=3525350384059632925' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/3525350384059632925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/3525350384059632925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/07/need-some-help.html' title='Need some help.....'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-268101860843650886</id><published>2009-07-15T09:19:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-15T09:32:48.934-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Harry Potter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='movie ratings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='children'/><title type='text'>Harry Potter Premiere and some questions......</title><content type='html'>I have several of my teenager friends from youth group who went to the premiere of Harry Potter last night at midnight.  True Potter fans they are.  It seems though, that even though they are disappointed that it is not exactly like the book, they will go see it many more times this summer.  Go figure.  I do like Harry Potter.  I know there are many Christian moms who do not, and I respect that, but our decision, after I had read the books, was to let my children read the books.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My mother was a "No, because I said so" type mom.  I have used that one on occasion.  Usually, I say, let me check it out, if I say no, I will tell you why.  I know Harry Potter deals with wizards and all that stuff.  I also know my children, and they know the difference between make believe and real stuff.  Reading and watching Harry Potter has never beckoned them to delve into witchcraft.  Not one of the kids I know that read the series has gotten into witchcraft.  My son Tyler, who read all the books, is following his God calling and wants to be a youth pastor.  So my final opinion on the whole thing is, forbidden fruit is more tempting and I found no real "threat" in the books or movies.  Great entertainment.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have truly messed up in this region too.  We are true Will Farrell fans, love Talledega nights, love Elf.  So, as I am cruising through the movie rental place, I see Step Brothers, don't even look at the rating and rent it.  Pop it in at home, only, to my true mortification, have to pop that bad boy right back out again.  Way too much adult humor, even for our fifteen year old.  Yikes.  Always read the boxes.  Always.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We have let our children watch "R" rated movies at appropriate ages.  Schindler's List is rated R.  Saving Private Ryan is rated R.  The Passion of the Christ is rated R.  These are important films.  If we do not know our past, we are doomed to relive it.  Cooper has seen none of these movies because he is not ready, Tatum either.  The intensity is too much, too real, and those things really did happen, so you cannot explain it away as make believe.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So weigh in on this very volatile subject.  Let me know, you won't hurt my feelings.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-268101860843650886?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/268101860843650886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=268101860843650886' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/268101860843650886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/268101860843650886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/07/harry-potter-premiere-and-some.html' title='Harry Potter Premiere and some questions......'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-3543278911856402117</id><published>2009-07-14T06:17:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-14T06:29:44.326-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='teenagers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='eating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sauces'/><title type='text'>Summer Eating</title><content type='html'>So, our niece is staying with us all week.  Love her to death, she is great.  All the kids home all summer, is kind of eating into my food  budget.  Where do they put it?  Apparently teenagers eat a lot of food.  I made tacos last night.  Just some burger, shred some lettuce, cheese, queso, salsa, tortillas and sour cream.  The kitchen looked  as if ravenous dogs had rifled through it.  Actually, they did.  Yikes.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;These kids eat as if they have not eaten all day.  What is up with that?  In our summer schedule, we stick to definite eating and snacking times.  If the kitchen stayed open all day, we would be broke.  They do have snack times.  I encourage a healthy snack that will stick with them the longest.  Sometimes it works, sometimes it does not.  An apple with stick with you longer that a bowl of chips.  The only reason we have chips is because we had hangtime here and they are leftover. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We have a family graduation party this weekend.  I have never been to so many in one year.  With our youth group and family, this makes five.   Five graduation parties.  So much food in one place.  And yet, the teenagers eat their way through it.  They eat everything, chicken, pasta, cookies, hamburgers, hotdogs.  You name it, they will put some kind of sauce on it and eat it.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Speaking of sauce, my niece is a mustard fiend.  I have the big bottles of mustard from Sam's club.  She got here Saturday, we ran out of one already.   She puts mustard on her mustard.  I don't think she tastes any kind of food.  She has mustard all over it.  You name it, she puts mustard on it.  My sister was the same with ketchup, but I don't think she does that anymore.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, what ravenous dogs are eating through your summer budget?  Do you have a summer budget?  Share the love and pass the mustard.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-3543278911856402117?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/3543278911856402117/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=3543278911856402117' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/3543278911856402117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/3543278911856402117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/07/summer-eating.html' title='Summer Eating'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-1761656510667934528</id><published>2009-07-13T09:26:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-13T09:45:06.435-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='drowning'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='watch your kids around water'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='baptism.'/><title type='text'>Just rushing in to save the day........</title><content type='html'>Every year our church has a barbeque and baptism.  Totally cool.  One of our member's uncles has a great property with a pond and outhouses and we bring the grills and everyone brings a dish to pass.  I actually don't eat hamburgers or hotdogs on this occasion, I go for everyone's side dishes.  Yummo.  Coleslaw with craisins and walnuts.  Tortolinni salad, just some awesome stuff.  Oooohhhhh, cheesy potatoes done about ten different ways, why eat a hotdog?&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After the baptism, all the kids are allowed to go swimming.  We had two lifeguards, signs posted to watch your kids and life jackets available for all who needed them in various sizes.  Approximately seventy kids entered the water.  There were probably four hundred people there.  Thirty got baptized including one of my new "sons" from Velocity, who I helped coach through accepting Christ at Church camp.  I was a crying mess, but it was awesome.  I was talking to the dad of said boy when I hear someone calling for a lifeguard.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I look up to see a pregnant mom saying she needs help.  I rush over, she points out to a little one eyes deep in water.  I said, "Is she going down?"  The frantic mom is just yelling she needs help.  What is a mom to do?   Fully clothed, I whip off the sunglasses and run on water to the little girl.  Vince's dad gets there about half a second before me and pops the little girl up.  Little girl fine and reunited with the momma.  The momma is not happy.  The lifeguard comes up as I am exiting the water, but truthfully, she was a little busy with seventy other kids in the water.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As I stand there soaking wet, I am reminded of various pool parties in Arizona when I have done the same.  Jump in, get to the kid and worry about your clothes and hair later.   I am not patting myself on the back, I think we have all done something similar in some way when it is not our kid in trouble.  Jump in. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My question is, why, when I had Cooper and Tatum, who are eleven, and can swim, in life jackets, just in case.  There were seventy kids in the water.  Why, was a two, maybe three year old, just wading out?  I know kids can get away from you, no one knows this better than me, but truthfully, she should have had floaties or something on.  I am not mad at the mom, she was quiet angry at us, but I think she was freaked out and everyone has the right to freak out when your kid almost drowns.  Water can be very dangerous in very, very little time.  That munchkin went one foot too far and was up to her eyes in water.  She will probably scream her head off every time she gets her hair washed for the next year.  The mom is probably scarred for life too.  We have to be diligent around water, drowning is silent.  The little girl was not making a sound, her mother was.  I am still a little freaked about it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, I drove home, quite squishy to change and regroup a little.  Came back and several people asked me what happened.  Hey, I think any one of them would have gone in the water, they just took a minute to think.  I don't think, I just jump, sometimes good, sometimes bad, but mostly good.  If a kid is in danger, don't think, just jump.  I am pretty good in a crisis, until I can hand the kid over to someone who knows what they are doing, then I freak out.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Any life altering moments in your weekend, or ever?  Share the chaos.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.  And watch your kids around water.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-1761656510667934528?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/1761656510667934528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=1761656510667934528' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/1761656510667934528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/1761656510667934528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/07/just-rushing-in-to-save-day.html' title='Just rushing in to save the day........'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-9221894692238868326</id><published>2009-07-10T11:07:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-10T11:30:12.704-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='youth group'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='teenagers'/><title type='text'>Youth Group Hangtime</title><content type='html'>So in the summer, we have much more casual youth group meetings.  Our church calls them Hangtimes.  I had volunteered to have the highschoolers here last night.  Sounds insane, but you put up a volleyball net and have a bonfire and you are all set.  It was, I thought, quite successful.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love listening to their conversations and Stevo playing the guitar.  It's just great hanging out with these teenagers.  I am amazed at myself that I love these kids.  I never thought I would dig hanging out with teenagers.  Although having a teenager can be a challenge, I love the kids he hangs out with.  They are a great bunch of kids.  Not perfect, but working on being good kids.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So with hotdogs, chips of every variety, pop, brownies and smores, I knew they would not starve.  I kicked the last of them out by 11:30 and cleaned up and went to bed.  Totally worth it.  The dynamics of teenagers are unique and weird and wonderful.  Every time I learn something new.  Some of the music gets on my nerves, but that just means I am old.  When I ask to have the radio turned down, I am acting my age, not my shoe size.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, are there teenagers in your life?  Do you love it or hate it or both.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-9221894692238868326?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/9221894692238868326/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=9221894692238868326' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/9221894692238868326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/9221894692238868326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/07/youth-group-hangtime.html' title='Youth Group Hangtime'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-486139796682808953</id><published>2009-07-09T07:20:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-09T07:35:40.700-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='curfews'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sleepovers'/><title type='text'>Where are you going?</title><content type='html'>So, my children think, all of sudden, they can just walk out the door.  "Be home by 9:00 p.m.", they mumble as they slam the front door.   When it is ten in the morning and some such caca.  Do children lose their memory?  Are they new here?  I need to know where you are, you need to check in (sometimes on the phone, sometimes face to face) and if plans change, I need to know that too.  What the heck?  Just because it is summer does not mean it is a free for all.  Oh, and do &lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;not&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"&gt; tell me where you are going.  This has never been a democracy.  They need to ask if they can go somewhere.  Period.  I pay the bills, Dad and I work, and we are the sole authorities in their little world.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Am I alone in this?  It is mainly the two older ones.  Although, since Velocity, Tyler has been better.  Grant thinks because he is twelve years old, he has license to rule the neighborhood.  Whatever.  They will be thirty years old, and if they are still living at home, I need to know where they are going, who they are with, and when they will be home.  Mostly, it's common courtesy.  To me, as a mother, it is also common sense.  If I don't know the parents, you are not sleeping over.  If Ms. Stephanie (a made up name) isn't married to her boyfriend, and he lives there, you are not sleeping over.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And what the heck is the whole sleepover thing?  Every day or night at least one of my children wants their friends to sleep over or they want to sleep over someone else's house.  Come on, I know it is summer, but I am not a fan of sleepovers.  Not because of the actual sleeping over.  It is from the not sleeping and my kid being a ridiculous crab by 4:00 p.m. the next day.  Hate the sleepovers.  I am a nazi when kids sleep over.  I make them hunker down by 10:00 and no more talking by 11:00.  There will never be a need to stay up until 2:00 in the morning if you are under the age of 29.  I am a complete tyrant about these things.  That being said, I will make big breakfast of eggs, bacon, pancakes, yumminess for all the kids.  And I will usually make carnival food for dinner.  French fries, chili dogs, all that jazz.  I do want them to have some fun, just not every single night of my summer.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;How do you feel about where your kids are at?  What about sleepovers?  Share the love, or the hate for that matter.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-486139796682808953?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/486139796682808953/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=486139796682808953' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/486139796682808953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/486139796682808953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/07/where-are-you-going.html' title='Where are you going?'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-7369713961215002201</id><published>2009-07-08T06:16:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-08T06:28:11.660-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Fourth of July</title><content type='html'>Well, as geeked as I am about Velocity, I am sure you are getting bored with it all.  I would like to send out a prayer request.  Phil Wing of The Phil Wing Band is having some kind of hold up, literally one document, in the adoption of a son from Africa.  Please just pray for God's hand in all of this, it is a long journey.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The Fourth of July.  Love those fireworks.  In Michigan they are "legal".  Well sort of.  You have to go to Ohio to get the good ones, but basically, if you shoot them off over water, it isn't illegal to do that.  It is illegal to own the fireworks that shoot over the water.  That being said, there is some kind of "lake" in just about every neighborhood here.  So there are fireworks everywhere.  I am talking booms in the sky, just like if we went to an official fireworks show.  All just across the street.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I had to work in the morning to about two o'clock.  Came home, had some barbeque, and rested.  The clan went across the street to our neighbors to fish and get ready for the show.  There are these small creatures that are quite prevalent here in Michigan.  They are called mosquitos.  They are the state bird.  I had bug spray and everything, and we still got killed by them.  Along Cooper's hairline, exactly where the bug spray wasn't, he has eight, count them eight, bites.  Somehow, each and every one of us had a bite on our elbows.  I got bitten through my clothes on my behind.  Explain that one to me, five bites, five of them, through my shorts.  Everyone is itchy beyond belief.  And we did not even stay for the whole show.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After an hour of fireworks, even the kids were ready to go home.  They are pretty and wonderful to watch, but the bugs can do you in.  I actually had a bat buzz my head in search of their little night time meal.  Whatever.  I love fireworks, I am just not a big nature buff.  I don't camp without cabins with showers and toilets.  Not outhouses, toilets that flush and everything.  That is as far into nature as I get.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So what did you do on the Fourth?  How was the show?  Share the love.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-7369713961215002201?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/7369713961215002201/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=7369713961215002201' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/7369713961215002201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/7369713961215002201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/07/fourth-of-july.html' title='The Fourth of July'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-7614158806275965875</id><published>2009-07-07T08:11:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-07T08:27:29.771-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chicas por Jesus'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Revolution in our Church'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Do Hard Things'/><title type='text'>Chicas por Jesus</title><content type='html'>So, I am still so excited about being a part of Velocity, our youth group's summer camp.  Totally amazing.  I was blessed to take a small part in having three of our kids give their lives to Christ.  A totally humbling experience for me.  As the high school girls leader, I was not directly involved with the middle schoolers, but they were on my floor and I adopted all of them last week.  MacKenzie gave her life to Christ with Erica her leader in the mix and it was awesome.  We celebrated with a dance party in our room with snacks and a circle of love.  All the girls came in and we got to know each other.  All the girls in the circle that knew Jesus gave some wonderful advice to our new sister in Christ.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The theme of Velocity was "Donde esta la Revolucion?"  Where is the Revolution.  Revolution in our schools, churches, and homes.  I always called the girls my Chicas.  So at the end of our Circle of love, we put all hands in and gave the "Chicas Por Jesus" on three.  We also "tatooed" it on our arms for the Battle of Helms deep.  Okay, we only put it on in Sharpie, but the message was clear.  We are Girls for Jesus.  We are proud of it.  We stand by it.  We live by it.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Our kids want better in this world.  They want the bar set higher.  They want us to expect the best in them, not settle for what they can handle.  Our children strive to make hard choices and come out on the other end better people.  In our society, we expect far too little of our kids.  You would be amazed at what these amazing people want to accomplish.  In their own lives and in their world.  Are we as parents expecting the best or preparing for the worst?  Make hard choices, make them make hard choices.  Don't let them skate by in this world, they long to do more.  Our teenagers don't want to be statistics, they want to change the world for the better.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Are we giving them a boost up, or giving in to their every whim?  Do Hard Things is a book I would recommend every teenager or pre-teen read.  Parents too.  Set the bar higher.  I can tell you, in sitting in that circle, those &lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;children&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;, had more faith and belief than most adults I know.  Why do we expect our kids to fail?  Children will become exactly what you allow them to become.  Allow them to become the hope of this world.  The faith of this world.  The church of this world.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So what are your kids up to?  Share the love and bring on the Revolution.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-7614158806275965875?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/7614158806275965875/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=7614158806275965875' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/7614158806275965875'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/7614158806275965875'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/07/chicas-por-jesus.html' title='Chicas por Jesus'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-2908640331543093748</id><published>2009-07-06T08:23:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-06T08:34:49.831-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Velocity summer camp'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Phil Wing Band'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='church camp'/><title type='text'>This one time at Church Camp</title><content type='html'>Okay, let's just start this off by stating some hard facts.  Fact:  We stayed on the fourth floor of some dorms, with no elevator.  Fact:  There was no air conditioning.  Fact:  Said dorm during the school year was a frat house.  Fact:  Frat houses smell of beer and pee.  Fact:  Sixteen girls, four bathrooms on the entire floor.  Fact:  At least seven girls started their little monthly friend during Velocity.  Fact:  Girls had to be on the floor by 11:30 p.m. and in their rooms by 12 midnight, breakfast at 7:30 a.m., look at the bathroom situation and think of showers.  This little fact does not gel with my 8-10 hour sleep schedule.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All that being said, I will go again next year, definitely.  I have never been so close to God.  I have never seen God work in such amazing ways for so many people.  One of our students had lost his faith, and re-discovered it.  Three other students gave their lives to Christ while we were there.  Totally amazing worship by the Phil Wing Band.  Google them, book them in your church, buy Phil's CD to help him raise money to adopt his son from Africa.  The Phil Wing Band, learn it, love it, live it.  We had great speakers, that while they were speaking to the kids, spoke to my heart as well.  We had an amazing last night of worship and prayer and I saw children asking each other for forgiveness, brothers, sisters, families, friends.  Some kids called their parents afterwords and asked for forgiveness.  Totally amazing and I am blessed to have been a part of it.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Don't get me wrong, church camp does not "fix" any child.  Velocity is an amazing camp.  About ten churches were there and we had tons of fun.  It can only be a launching pad to further a child's faith, with plenty of back-up at church and home.  I would highly recommend Velocity to any church looking for an amazing camp for their youth group.  I am not trying to be an advertisement, it just is that good.  Perfect balance of God and fun.  One pastor, who had previously been to Velocity and then transferred to New Jersey, actually brought his youth group all the way to Ohio for the camp.  Totally worth it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Have you ever been to church camp?  What great stories do you have?  Any horror stories?  Share the love.  I missed all of you this week, but I will go again next year.  Praise, praise, praise.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-2908640331543093748?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/2908640331543093748/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=2908640331543093748' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/2908640331543093748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/2908640331543093748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/07/this-one-time-at-church-camp.html' title='This one time at Church Camp'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-2160106802282038932</id><published>2009-06-25T08:11:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-25T08:19:02.780-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Velocity Church Camp</title><content type='html'>So, tomorrow I leave for Velocity, our church camp in Gambier, Ohio.  I have to pack for Tyler and Grant before I leave.  They don't leave until Saturday.  I have to say, I have prayed and fasted for this trip to be a safe, life changing experience for everyone who goes.  I will not be blogging until I get back.  That will be so hard for me, not to share with you daily the amazing things going on.  I will have plenty to say when I get back.  So, I will return to the blog next Friday, if I survive the week.  Two words, no air conditioning.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That is actually stated in the brochure, "bring a fan to cool your room, there is no air conditioning.  Should be interesting as here in the midwest, humidity is king.  I think cool showers will be a daily thing for me.  Pray for me and the other leaders and the kiddos.  I have declared my room to be the snack room, so I must stock up.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Have a great week.  God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-2160106802282038932?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/2160106802282038932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=2160106802282038932' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/2160106802282038932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/2160106802282038932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/06/velocity-church-camp.html' title='Velocity Church Camp'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-6977195648249049224</id><published>2009-06-24T06:58:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-24T07:16:23.296-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dreams'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='beauty pageants'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='travel ball'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Baseball'/><title type='text'>Little League Baseball and the dreams of our youth</title><content type='html'>So my Grantie Bear has made a tournament team.  Very exciting.  If they go all the way, they could be on ESPN.  The coaches assure me that this probably will not happen.  The other teams in our area have played together for four to five years and we have had one practice.  In our township, this is new, so we are the babies of the league.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This opens up a whole new can of worms that I think we should all discuss.  Tournament teams, travel teams, private coaching, all that jazz.  Obviously, I am not against it, but where do you draw the line?  My sister spent $5,000.00 one summer for her daughter to be on a travel softball team that "promised" scouts to be at the games.  She was scouted at one of her high school games.  They traveled, spent money on hotels and gas and stuff and at the end of the day, was not quite sure it was worth it.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;How much money do you have to spend for your child to get a possible college scholarship in a sport?  Do they really need private coaching?  Is Little league enough to get them ready for school ball?  Tyler played for a school for the first time this year.  He learned a lot, and showed the coaches his heart for the game.  I think that is key.  Heart.  Where is your kid's heart in all of this?  Are we forcing our dreams onto our kids?  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I see those beauty pageant moms with those dressed up, poofed up, fake teeth wearing little girls on the reality shows and want to cry.  They are fake tanning, fake hairing, fake teeth wearing little girls with more make-up on than I wear in a week.  And I wear make-up every day.  Two thousand dollars for a dress they can only wear once?  Strutting and shaking things that have yet to grow in?  And in the end, every one of them has said they were tired and wanted to go home.  The moms have the nerve to say it's for college money.  Okay, take the two grand you just spent on costumes and stick that in a college fund.  The poor child will make more for college that way than if  you spend all that money carting her around to little state pageants.  Yikes.  Scary, scary stuff.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I try to be very careful to make sure my children want to do what they sign up for.  Tatum would sign up for fifteen things a semester if she could.  She has done dance, gymnastics, girlscouts and many other things.  Nothing has stuck.  And that's okay, if she finds something she loves, she will stick with it and I will support her.  Tyler and Grant have played baseball for more years than I can count, and they love it.  But if they came to me next year and said they did not want to play, that would be okay.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The things we enroll our children in are supposed to enhance their lives, not take over their lives.  The tournament team tryouts were just that and Grant made it and we are proud of him.  I hope they go far, but in reality, this being their first year, that probably will not happen.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Where do you draw the line in your house about extra curricular activities?  Do your kids enjoy what they are doing?  Let me know.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-6977195648249049224?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/6977195648249049224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=6977195648249049224' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/6977195648249049224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/6977195648249049224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/06/little-league-baseball-and-dreams-of.html' title='Little League Baseball and the dreams of our youth'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-666085606891784787</id><published>2009-06-23T13:08:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-23T13:10:00.795-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Too busy to blog.</title><content type='html'>So, today, I have six appointments regarding four children and myself.  I cannot blog, I am too busy.  I also work six hours today.  So, I will see you all here tomorrow.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-666085606891784787?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/666085606891784787/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=666085606891784787' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/666085606891784787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/666085606891784787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/06/too-busy-to-blog.html' title='Too busy to blog.'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-811123212028912969.post-1484624717283474445</id><published>2009-06-22T07:00:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T07:13:32.499-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='budgets'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='finances'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dave Ramsey'/><title type='text'>Budgets, a necessary evil..........</title><content type='html'>So, my dear husband and I have always had a love/hate relationship when it comes to money.  I love to spend it, he hates to spend it.  When we made the move to Michigan, we made some serious decisions regarding our family and our finances.  Money was no longer king, and we shifted our focus to God and our family.  We simplified our lives and got closer to God in the process.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On Saturday, after a nice breakfast out, we decided we had to firmly write down our finances and create a budget.  It is a little scary writing it all down.  What you really spend a month will stagger you.  My program on my Macbook was very helpful.  What I found out was I needed to trim $350.00 off our food budget and find another $300.00 a month to live.  So basically, I need to find $650.00 a month and not dip into our savings.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Interesting.  The food budget I think I can do, because, quite frankly, I fly by the seat of my pants in that department.  What sounds good today?  Oh, I will just pick that up for tomorrow type of stuff.  I have to create a menu and buy what is on sale.  The end.  I will shop the specials, cut coupons and eliminate waste.  Which, we all know, I should have been doing in the first place. Finding the extra $300.0o a month is going to be a bit challenging.  I could sell one  of the kids, but I am sort of attached to the little buggers.  I am going to open up my schedule at work and see if that helps.  Scott is going to work a little harder and we are going to tighten our belts.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Better to do this now, then try to catch up later.  I have always been for a budget, Scott not so much, but is coming around.  He always felt if we had, let's say, $200.00 for food, we would spend it all instead of not spending that much.  I have changed his mind.  We have had friends do the envelope system.  That works too so much money in said envelope for said costs.  Dave Ramsey's Total Money Makeover is a great place to start if you need some help in the budget department.  You do have to budget fun.  If all you do is drudgery, you won't stick to your budget.  Period.  You just can't eat at the fancy steakhouse every weekend.  Unless you have a two for one coupon, a gift card and someone else is splitting the check.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In these trying times, we all have to get creative with our finances.  We need to listen to our elders, who survived the Great Depression and use it again, save it, recycle it, or use it up.  We are going to tighten our belts and get the last little drop out of the toothpaste.  We have become a wasteful nation and we need to go back to the basics.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What do you do to save household money?  Share the love and the ideas, we all need some help.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God bless you and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/811123212028912969-1484624717283474445?l=kayklebba.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/feeds/1484624717283474445/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=811123212028912969&amp;postID=1484624717283474445' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/1484624717283474445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/811123212028912969/posts/default/1484624717283474445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kayklebba.blogspot.com/2009/06/budgets-necessary-evil.html' title='Budgets, a necessary evil..........'/><author><name>Kay Klebba</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08785865440130483510</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JZwpRH8d7Us/SmR8sZtFpRI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HEIZriTmni0/S220/Chad%27s+graduation+party+036.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
