<?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-31549519</id><updated>2012-02-16T18:05:47.263+01:00</updated><category term='future'/><category term='job'/><category term='photo'/><category term='drabble'/><category term='poem'/><category term='church'/><category term='one photo every hour'/><category term='MAJOR'/><category term='blogthings'/><category term='family'/><category term='IBS'/><category term='scifi'/><category term='son'/><category term='P.I.F.'/><category term='eating disorder'/><category term='2007'/><category term='daughter'/><category term='blog'/><category term='Engla'/><category term='work'/><category term='life'/><category term='friends'/><title type='text'>Seven's journal</title><subtitle type='html'>my own private thoughts</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>99</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-4971266815965806515</id><published>2009-10-26T13:40:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-26T13:40:58.498+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='IBS'/><title type='text'>Trying to get my problems under control - again</title><content type='html'>I've never made it a secret that I'm suffering from IBS-D. It's truly a debilitating problem to have but earlier this year I heard of a special IBS-diet and gave it a go!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The most amazing thing is that for the first time in 5 or more years I was free of my problems with my stomache.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been eating ordinary food during the summer but now I feel I need to get back on track so from this day I'm back on my IBS-diet. I love this diet because I can live a normal life if I follow this diet. I also hate it because it's a very difficult diet to&amp;nbsp;stay on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me show you what I can eat and drink - I can't deviate from this plan for one second or I have to start all over again. It takes 6 weeks for my body to heal&amp;nbsp; and to get well once I've started this diet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;• rice, rice flower, rice milk (rice dream), rice cakes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;• Soymilk (without flavoring) &lt;br /&gt;• Cornflower, polenta&lt;br /&gt;• Gluten free pasta&lt;br /&gt;• Gluten free crispy bread (not "soft" bread)&lt;br /&gt;• gluten free flower mix&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;• meat (beef, game, sheep, lamb) - unfortunally I can't eat beef – haven’t really tried the rest of them&lt;br /&gt;• chicken&lt;br /&gt;• white fish&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;• iceberg lettuce&lt;br /&gt;• cucumber - peeled&lt;br /&gt;• carrot, parsnips&lt;br /&gt;• Tomato&lt;br /&gt;• Squash/zucchini&lt;br /&gt;• Avocado&lt;br /&gt;• Olives&lt;br /&gt;• spinach, nettles&lt;br /&gt;• cantaloupe&lt;br /&gt;• peach (fresh or canned without juice)&lt;br /&gt;• berries (blueberries, lingonberries, cloudberries, raspberries, strawberries, black currant…)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve found out that I can eat bananas without any problem&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;• homemade jam or lemonade - berries, sugar, water - NO additives&lt;br /&gt;• herbal tea&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;• Oil&lt;br /&gt;• milk free margarine/butter&lt;br /&gt;• sugar, salt&lt;br /&gt;• Pepper&lt;br /&gt;• green herbs (oregano, time, tarragon, basil, dill, parsley)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is what&amp;nbsp;I can eat&amp;nbsp;until you're free of all&amp;nbsp;my symptoms, for at least 6 weeks. After that it's time to start introducing other things to eat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Oh by the way. I can't eat fried food. Everything has to be boiled or cooked in the oven.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-4971266815965806515?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/4971266815965806515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=4971266815965806515' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/4971266815965806515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/4971266815965806515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2009/10/trying-to-get-my-problems-under-control.html' title='Trying to get my problems under control - again'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-7896134166342839980</id><published>2009-10-25T09:06:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-25T09:32:31.163+01:00</updated><title type='text'>7 different plotlines</title><content type='html'>From time to time I've heard that there are only &lt;strong&gt;7 different plotlines&lt;/strong&gt; in writing and I just had to find out exactly what they were so here you go:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;----------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;[wo]man vs. nature &lt;br /&gt;[wo]man vs. man&lt;br /&gt;[wo]man vs. the environment &lt;br /&gt;[wo]man vs. machines/technology &lt;br /&gt;[wo]man vs. the supernatural &lt;br /&gt;[wo]man vs. self &lt;br /&gt;[wo]man vs. god/religion &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;Ronald Tobias, author of "Twenty Basic Plots" believes &lt;strong&gt;the following make for good stories&lt;/strong&gt;: quest, adventure, pursuit, rescue, escape, revenge, riddle, rivalry, underdog, temptation, metamorphosis, transformation, maturation, love, forbidden love, sacrifice, discovery, wretched excess, ascension, and decision. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Overlap must be common under this theory. For example, "Rocky" is a story of the "underdog," who goes through a "transformation" and falls in "love" while on a "quest." We're not sure, but we think "Dude, Where's My Car?" touches on at least 16.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;There are also claims made that there are seven basic needs to a story line.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;1. A hero – the person through whose eyes we see the story unfold, set against a larger background.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. The hero’s character flaw – a weakness or defense mechanism that hinders the hero in such a way as to render him/her incomplete.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Enabling circumstances – the surroundings the hero is in at the beginning of the story, which allow the hero to maintain his/her character flaw.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. An opponent – someone who opposes the hero in getting or doing what he/she wants. Not always a villain. For example, in a romantic comedy, the opponent could be the man or woman whom the hero seeks romance with. The opponent is the person who instigates the life-changing event.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. The hero’s ally – the person who spends the most time with the hero and who helps the hero overcome his/her character flaw.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. The life-changing event – a challenge, threat or opportunity usually instigated by the opponent, which forces the hero to respond in some way that’s related to the hero’s flaw.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Jeopardy – the high stakes that the hero must risk to overcome his/her flaw. These are the dramatic events that lend excitement and challenge to the quest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sourses: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://ask.yahoo.com/20070305.html"&gt;bit.ly/1ri7GY&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://answers.yahoo.com/question/index?qid=20070703093947AAhZFDO"&gt;bit.ly/3VdKgJ&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-7896134166342839980?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/7896134166342839980/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=7896134166342839980' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/7896134166342839980'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/7896134166342839980'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2009/10/7-different-ploslines.html' title='7 different plotlines'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-4282673787681784031</id><published>2009-10-18T12:38:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2009-10-18T12:39:42.607+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh have mercy!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://s440.photobucket.com/albums/qq125/Frostensdotter/sevensjournal/?action=view&amp;amp;current=DSC01395.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i440.photobucket.com/albums/qq125/Frostensdotter/sevensjournal/th_DSC01395.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;It never ends! And you would think that the kids closets&amp;nbsp;would be&amp;nbsp;empty by now&amp;nbsp;but that's where you're mistaken - they are still full of clothes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the best part is that the only thing I buy is underware and socks.. oh boy do I buy socks! What the frell is wrong with the world when all I find is one sock out of each pair and can't find the other one! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Someone should invent a sockfinder or something fun to do with one single sock! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Now I'm off to continue cleaning my home before the kids get home. :)&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/31549519-4282673787681784031?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/4282673787681784031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=4282673787681784031' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/4282673787681784031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/4282673787681784031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2009/10/oh-have-mercy.html' title='Oh have mercy!'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i440.photobucket.com/albums/qq125/Frostensdotter/sevensjournal/th_DSC01395.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-7615686082684686555</id><published>2009-10-16T19:44:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-10-16T19:44:53.603+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Surviving post patrum depression</title><content type='html'>I was just watching an episode of Private Practice and if you don't want to read any spoilers - stop reading this post here and now..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway. This episode was dealing with Violet's struggle to work through a crisis and also struggling with her feelings - or lack of - for her son.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it felt like someone punched me really hard in my stomache and I couldn't breath!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nine years ago I went through a traumatic experience and during that same period I had a child - my firstborn, my wonderful son but I wasn't the picture perfect mom as everyone expects you to be and talking or admitting that you feel this way was something you did not talk about - ever!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did the right things: I fed him, I changed his diaper, took care of his clothes, took walks but with everything that had happen I had a difficult time to connect emotionally with the whole situation. I had a hard time calling myself "mom" and I loved this child but I was not IN love with him so to speak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took such a long time for everything to change and even longer for me to feel that I was a good mom and to get over my guilt for not having these maternal feeling from the moment he was born and it still pains me to this day to think about those months 9 years ago because I feel that someone stole them from me and I can never get that back no matter how hard I try!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love my son more than anything in this world and I'm so proud to be his mother and I tell him that every single day. Not a day goes by without me telling him how proud I am of him and how lucky I have to have him in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My bonds with both of my children are incrediably strong and I couldn't have asked for better children and I know I'm a fantastic mom to these kids. I do make mistakes and I do have flaws like everyone else but you know what - I'm still a fantastic mom! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-7615686082684686555?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/7615686082684686555/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=7615686082684686555' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/7615686082684686555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/7615686082684686555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2009/10/surviving-post-patrum-depression.html' title='Surviving post patrum depression'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-9163391597477642354</id><published>2009-10-12T12:47:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-10-12T12:47:26.825+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='photo'/><title type='text'>Different sides of my day today.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://s440.photobucket.com/albums/qq125/Frostensdotter/sevensjournal/?action=view&amp;amp;current=DSC01381-1.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i440.photobucket.com/albums/qq125/Frostensdotter/sevensjournal/th_DSC01381-1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is what my food-bag usually contains on a every day basis. Since I don't know if I get to have any meals where I'm going to work for the day I have to bring breakfast, lunch and a snack with me everyday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s440.photobucket.com/albums/qq125/Frostensdotter/sevensjournal/?action=view&amp;amp;current=DSC01382.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i440.photobucket.com/albums/qq125/Frostensdotter/sevensjournal/th_DSC01382.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I accidentally stumbled upon this as I went to the supermarket today! It's either "fun-sausage" or "ball-sausage".. &lt;em&gt;Kul&lt;/em&gt; means both fun and ball in swedish.. it's a little bit like a freudian slip there. I couldn't help myself and I had to buy it! Can't wait for my kids to get home to see this. They are going to freak out!&amp;nbsp; Big time!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-9163391597477642354?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/9163391597477642354/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=9163391597477642354' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/9163391597477642354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/9163391597477642354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2009/10/different-sides-of-my-day-today.html' title='Different sides of my day today.'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i440.photobucket.com/albums/qq125/Frostensdotter/sevensjournal/th_DSC01381-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-6638832532287531151</id><published>2009-10-11T11:20:00.012+02:00</published><updated>2009-10-11T22:41:26.021+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='one photo every hour'/><title type='text'>This is my Sunday.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://s440.photobucket.com/albums/qq125/Frostensdotter/efit%2011%20okt/?action=view&amp;amp;current=951507b1.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i440.photobucket.com/albums/qq125/Frostensdotter/efit%2011%20okt/th_951507b1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://s440.photobucket.com/albums/qq125/Frostensdotter/efit%2011%20okt/?action=view&amp;amp;current=929c025a.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i440.photobucket.com/albums/qq125/Frostensdotter/efit%2011%20okt/th_929c025a.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://s440.photobucket.com/albums/qq125/Frostensdotter/efit%2011%20okt/?action=view&amp;amp;current=33bddd1a.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i440.photobucket.com/albums/qq125/Frostensdotter/efit%2011%20okt/th_33bddd1a.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://s440.photobucket.com/albums/qq125/Frostensdotter/efit%2011%20okt/?action=view&amp;amp;current=206d742b.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i440.photobucket.com/albums/qq125/Frostensdotter/efit%2011%20okt/th_206d742b.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://s440.photobucket.com/albums/qq125/Frostensdotter/efit%2011%20okt/?action=view&amp;amp;current=bd8a1c8b.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i440.photobucket.com/albums/qq125/Frostensdotter/efit%2011%20okt/th_bd8a1c8b.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://s440.photobucket.com/albums/qq125/Frostensdotter/efit%2011%20okt/?action=view&amp;amp;current=f92a51e7.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i440.photobucket.com/albums/qq125/Frostensdotter/efit%2011%20okt/th_f92a51e7.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://s440.photobucket.com/albums/qq125/Frostensdotter/efit%2011%20okt/?action=view&amp;amp;current=7.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i440.photobucket.com/albums/qq125/Frostensdotter/efit%2011%20okt/th_7.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://s440.photobucket.com/albums/qq125/Frostensdotter/efit%2011%20okt/?action=view&amp;amp;current=8.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i440.photobucket.com/albums/qq125/Frostensdotter/efit%2011%20okt/th_8.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://s440.photobucket.com/albums/qq125/Frostensdotter/efit%2011%20okt/?action=view&amp;amp;current=9.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i440.photobucket.com/albums/qq125/Frostensdotter/efit%2011%20okt/th_9.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://s440.photobucket.com/albums/qq125/Frostensdotter/efit%2011%20okt/?action=view&amp;amp;current=10.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i440.photobucket.com/albums/qq125/Frostensdotter/efit%2011%20okt/th_10.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://s440.photobucket.com/albums/qq125/Frostensdotter/efit%2011%20okt/?action=view&amp;amp;current=11.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i440.photobucket.com/albums/qq125/Frostensdotter/efit%2011%20okt/th_11.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://s440.photobucket.com/albums/qq125/Frostensdotter/efit%2011%20okt/?action=view&amp;amp;current=12.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i440.photobucket.com/albums/qq125/Frostensdotter/efit%2011%20okt/th_12.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://s440.photobucket.com/albums/qq125/Frostensdotter/efit%2011%20okt/?action=view&amp;amp;current=13.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i440.photobucket.com/albums/qq125/Frostensdotter/efit%2011%20okt/th_13.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm officially done for today! I'm way to tired for uploading new pics and the fact is that my last pic will show what the rest of the night will be like before I finally go to bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be honest - I never expected to get this many visitors today to see what we've been up to in my family. My life is far from extraordinary - in fact it's very ordinary but it's my life. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feel free to post a comment and hope you'll come back to visit my blog again in the near future.&lt;br /&gt;/Seven and kids wish you all a good night. :)&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/31549519-6638832532287531151?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/6638832532287531151/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=6638832532287531151' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/6638832532287531151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/6638832532287531151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2009/10/this-is-my-sunday.html' title='This is my Sunday.'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i440.photobucket.com/albums/qq125/Frostensdotter/efit%2011%20okt/th_951507b1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-1985339248094194657</id><published>2009-10-10T17:36:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2009-10-10T17:40:41.358+02:00</updated><title type='text'>A cleansing experience</title><content type='html'>I haven't been able to lift my knees high enough to get into the bathtub for a week due to a back injury I sustained but today I felt really good about my back and got to take my first bath in a very long time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been a struggle to take showers as well since I couldn't raise my arms up over my head and I also have this burn injury on the side of my stomache and it hurt really badly to get water on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But now I took a long, really hot bath accompanied with a deep cleansing facial mask and an oil treatment for my hair! That along with lit, chocolate scented candles!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh my gosh! I'm in heaven!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-1985339248094194657?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/1985339248094194657/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=1985339248094194657' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/1985339248094194657'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/1985339248094194657'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2009/10/cleansing-experience.html' title='A cleansing experience'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-8427642901464163671</id><published>2009-09-04T20:36:00.004+02:00</published><updated>2009-09-04T20:59:18.150+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Can you imagine..</title><content type='html'>What it would be like to grow up never hearing your own mother telling you that she loves you or that she's proud of you. Never getting a single hug or any kind of affection. And also being blamed for everything that went wrong in your mother's life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's exactly what my childhood was like and it's still what my life is like today. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think I've spent that much time thinking about my childhood, to be honest it's something I'd rather forget but there are times when something happens and I just have to look back at the differences between my own childhood and of my childrens'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was doing the laundry the other day out in the laundry room we have in the area and my daughter brought all of her sand toys out with her and she spent some quality time with her doll in the sandbox just outside. In between sorting, folding and loading another machine with laundry I went out to talk to her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As she sees me coming she sais: mommy, I want to play with you. Just a simple statement and it's so natural to her to ask me somthing like this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it hit me that I never asked my mother to play with me as a child. I spent all of my days alone or with friends never having any alone time with my mother. I don't think I ever told her that I love her simply because she never said that to me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Emma can come up to me just to tell me that she loves me, she gives me a hug and a kiss and then she's off again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyday I tell my children that I love them and that I'm so proud of them! I tell them how special they are to me and that I'm so lucky to have them. Everytime they do something to be proud of I tell them that they've done a good job and that I'm proud of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if you're reading this blog and you have a child of your own or is close to one - tell this child how much you love him, that you're proud of her and do this at least once a day. Let this child go to sleep every night knowing that it's loved. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is no greater gift than the gift of love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-8427642901464163671?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/8427642901464163671/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=8427642901464163671' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/8427642901464163671'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/8427642901464163671'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2009/09/can-you-imagine.html' title='Can you imagine..'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-1088479365221698149</id><published>2009-05-25T23:58:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2009-05-25T23:58:55.867+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Me and the girls at the playground</title><content type='html'>&lt;embed width="448" height="361" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" src="http://i440.photobucket.com/player.swf?file=http://vid440.photobucket.com/albums/qq125/Frostensdotter/filmer/MOV00638.flv"&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-1088479365221698149?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/1088479365221698149/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=1088479365221698149' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/1088479365221698149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/1088479365221698149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2009/05/me-and-girls-at-playground.html' title='Me and the girls at the playground'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-1037286894590786479</id><published>2009-05-25T23:57:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-05-25T23:58:12.706+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Let me show you my summer house.</title><content type='html'>&lt;embed width="448" height="361" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" src="http://i440.photobucket.com/player.swf?file=http://vid440.photobucket.com/albums/qq125/Frostensdotter/filmer/MOV00592.flv"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-1037286894590786479?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/1037286894590786479/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=1037286894590786479' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/1037286894590786479'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/1037286894590786479'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2009/05/let-me-show-you-my-summer-house.html' title='Let me show you my summer house.'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-7097685639181636583</id><published>2009-05-20T14:47:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T14:48:50.805+02:00</updated><title type='text'>I won</title><content type='html'>this first part of this trial and the court decided that my kids are going to stay living with me during this custody battle!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a huge win for me!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-7097685639181636583?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/7097685639181636583/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=7097685639181636583' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/7097685639181636583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/7097685639181636583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-won.html' title='I won'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-5855227297405323329</id><published>2009-05-19T14:50:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2009-05-19T15:04:12.121+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Updating</title><content type='html'>I can't belive what has happend lately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My ex got our daughter's daycare and our son's school to call the authorities to claim that the kids are at risk by living with me. For some strange reason they believed him and told him to seek custody of the children and that custody fight started yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow we will know where the children are going to live during this time and I hope and pray that they will stay here with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so exhausted but I can't give up. Giving up is not an option.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to loose my children.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-5855227297405323329?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/5855227297405323329/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=5855227297405323329' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/5855227297405323329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/5855227297405323329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2009/05/updating.html' title='Updating'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-5830379555232547293</id><published>2009-01-20T23:05:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-01-20T23:13:23.442+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Tired</title><content type='html'>I haven't been this tired for a very long time but it's a good kind of tired. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started my new job yesterday and it's been so much fun going back to work with these small children and I truly love my job. This is what I was meant to do, I can feel it all trough my soul. This and being a mother which is the most important job there is - being a parent and raising a child.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not saying that everyone has to have children but if you do - then this is definitly your most important job. It doesn't care if you gave birth to this child or if it came to be a part of your family in some other way, this is your child.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I could I would love to adopt or to give a home to a child in need since I can't have any more children of my own. That in itself doesn't necessarily mean that I can't have more children living in my home. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-5830379555232547293?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/5830379555232547293/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=5830379555232547293' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/5830379555232547293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/5830379555232547293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2009/01/tired.html' title='Tired'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-5898861417512761464</id><published>2009-01-08T09:57:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-01-08T10:02:10.383+01:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm so sorry!</title><content type='html'>I know I haven't updated my blog in ages.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't say that things are looking up. At one point I was in such a bad state that I couldn't stop shaking. That on top of the fact that the ex tried to take our daughter out from my home by force causing both of my arms being covered with bruises. After that my life was a nightmare. I was afraid to go outside, where ever I was I was always in reach of my phone in case something happend. It was awful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm now on medication due to my depression and anxiaty and finally there are good days in my life too. Doing my best to build up a new life, there are good days and there are bad days. I have accepted that this will take time and I've surrendered myself to letting it do that. For once I'm going to do my best to take small steps and not to rush into getting better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-5898861417512761464?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/5898861417512761464/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=5898861417512761464' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/5898861417512761464'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/5898861417512761464'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2009/01/im-so-sorry.html' title='I&apos;m so sorry!'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-2512941355001825379</id><published>2008-07-29T21:40:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2008-07-29T21:49:25.265+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='daughter'/><title type='text'>Regarding my children.</title><content type='html'>I'm not sure that I will even be able to put down in writing how I'm feeling right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've had my concerns regarding my daughter and today I called my mother-in-law and she told me that my daughter is throwing up a lot and sufferes from stomache aches a lot. I've come to notice this too and she also told me of a lot of other things she had seen and that along with everything that my soon to be ex-husband did to me over the past 9 years made me contact the authorities dealing with children and I've now made a formal complaint regarding the father of my children. I was shaking and crying through out the entire conversation but hopefully he'll get some help to deal with his issues and I can possibly get someone to help my daughter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This past Friday I also found out that he's seing someone new and today I found out that he's been seeing her for more than 3 weeks now. I'm glad to be rid of him so why does it hurt to find out that he has someone new in his life? I would never ever take him back! But still it hurt.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-2512941355001825379?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/2512941355001825379/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=2512941355001825379' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/2512941355001825379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/2512941355001825379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2008/07/regarding-my-children.html' title='Regarding my children.'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-3965942185941793980</id><published>2008-06-21T23:07:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2008-06-21T23:16:41.391+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Signing on..</title><content type='html'>We moved to our new apartment a week ago today and I'm surprised myself that I've been able to deal with all of this as well as I have lately. My children are doing fine most of the time. Emma does tend to scream a lot more and she's testing me to the extreme at times and Eric is more sensitive than her and he cries more easily.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing I was the most worried about was not knowing if I was going to be able to cope with two small children on my own but I felt just as lonely while I was still living with their father. In some way I guess I feel a little happier now. Maybe not happier but more at peace...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-3965942185941793980?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/3965942185941793980/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=3965942185941793980' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/3965942185941793980'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/3965942185941793980'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2008/06/signing-on.html' title='Signing on..'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-1399674920938614856</id><published>2008-05-26T00:00:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2008-05-26T00:11:31.565+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='daughter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='future'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='son'/><title type='text'>Apartment sorted.</title><content type='html'>I got a call this past Friday about the apartment and it’s mine. It felt like a huge load had been lifted from my shoulders and we’re now moving in about 2-3 weeks. My dad called and offered me his kitchen table, couch and two chairs along with his desk, my mom had been looking for an excuse to buy a new TV so I’m getting her old TV and she is also going to buy something to place it on. A friend has a couple of beds that he needs to get rid of and I’m getting one for myself – everything is more or less taken care of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But like I wrote to a friend of mine today, all this stress has started to affect my short term memory. I can make plans with someone and then forget what we talked about only an hour or so later. A few days ago I was driving down the freeway like I have done so many times and I missed my exit. I had to keep on driving for more than 30 kilometers before I could find somewhere to get off and to turn back. On top of that I was running out of gas and I didn’t even know if I was going to make it to the next gas station. Luckily I did and we got home safe and sound but an hour later than we were supposed to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve had the best help I can get from friends and family but I still feel so alone and vulnerable. I don’t know when I’ve slept for more than a few hours at the time at night. The other night I woke up at 4 am and couldn’t go back to sleep. I worry about my children and how am I going to be able to take care of them as a single parent. Anyone who knows my daughter can vouch for me when I say that I have a wonderful daughter but she does have a temper like nothing you’ve ever seen before. My son is more delicate. He’s emotional and he is beginning to withdraw himself from everyone. Emma on the other hand couldn’t care less of what is going on but she’s not even 4 so she doesn’t understand but Eric is 7 and he does understand a lot more.&lt;br /&gt;Last night both of my children fell asleep on the couch so we all slept there that night. My back was sore when I woke up but my children really needed to be close to a parent that night so I decided not to take them back to their beds as soon as they had fallen asleep next to me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-1399674920938614856?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/1399674920938614856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=1399674920938614856' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/1399674920938614856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/1399674920938614856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2008/05/apartment-sorted.html' title='Apartment sorted.'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-6463628090637600103</id><published>2008-05-20T21:52:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2008-05-26T00:02:38.072+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='daughter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='future'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='son'/><title type='text'>Update</title><content type='html'>I tried calling the land lord this past Thursday but they refused to tell me if the problem with the neighbour was going to get resolved in the near future but I was given a phone number to the man in charge of that neighbourhood. When I called this man I was told that this next door neighbour has been evicted and he is moving out in about a month so I decided to take the apartment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That same evening I had to tell my children that we are moving. It’s not fair that I had to do all that on my own. I couldn’t help it but I started crying and even though my daughter flat out yelled that she didn’t want to see her daddy I had to try to keep a positive vibe to it all. Of course they are going to see their father as much as possible and the reason to why we’re separating is that mom and dad are only fighting these days and that it’s better for everyone that we live separately but that we still love our children very much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eric is talking about moving a lot. It seems like he is looking forward to it. Emma doesn’t say that much but I’ve notice this past few months that my children have changed. Eric is more withdrawn and cries a lot and Emma insists on sleeping on the couch with me and not in her own bed. I can’t say if I’ve seen changes in them these past few days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like the bad guy here. I can’t say that this separation was my idea or if it was something that had to be done anyway. It was probably a little bit of both.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still worry about how we’re going to be able to deal with everything as soon as this is over. I’m going to be all alone with my children and I alone have to answer all of their questions and being a single parent full time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-6463628090637600103?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/6463628090637600103/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=6463628090637600103' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/6463628090637600103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/6463628090637600103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2008/05/update.html' title='Update'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-2153306323446346406</id><published>2008-05-15T20:51:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-05-15T20:52:18.945+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='P.I.F.'/><title type='text'>Pay It Forward</title><content type='html'>I will send a handmade gift to the first 3 people who leave a comment on my blog requesting to join this PIF exchange. I don't know what that gift will be yet and you may not receive it tomorrow or next week, but you will receive it within 365 days, that is my promise! The only thing you have to do in return is pay it forward by making the same promise on your blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De tre första som lämnar en kommentar till detta inlägg kommer att få ett paket med någonting som jag har gjort och som det står i texten ovan: Kanske inte imorgon eller om en vecka, men du kommer att få ett litet paket inom 365 dagar, det lovar jag och allt du behöver göra är att skicka vidare genom att lova samma sak på din blogg samt såklart lämna en kommentar här!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-2153306323446346406?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/2153306323446346406/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=2153306323446346406' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/2153306323446346406'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/2153306323446346406'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2008/05/pay-it-forward.html' title='Pay It Forward'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-1976095063998931472</id><published>2008-05-15T20:24:00.004+02:00</published><updated>2008-05-26T00:03:06.770+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='future'/><title type='text'>How much more..</title><content type='html'>must I endure?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At times I don't feel that I can go on a minute longer. I cry myself to sleep at night and yesterday evening I broke down. I couldn't figure out how to support myself and my two children on the money I get every month. At the moment I'm doing alright but that will only last for a couple of months. I stopped looking at one bedroom apartments and went on to look for a studio. I broke down in tears in front of a friend yesterday but by the end of that conversation I was told that if I ever need help with paying my rent or buying groceries they know of an organisation that is willing to help me out until we can get back on our feet. A huge load was lifted from my shoulders and I'm now looking for slightly larger apartments again as per instructed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found one today and I was so happy about it. It's a little out of my price range but the electricity was included in the rent. I went to take a look and it's absolutely great - apart from one small detail: the next door neighbour. After being told what goes on at the apartment next door at night I've decided not to take that apartment and I'm now again looking for somewhere to stay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least I've got school and daycare figured out already.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-1976095063998931472?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/1976095063998931472/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=1976095063998931472' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/1976095063998931472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/1976095063998931472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2008/05/how-much-more.html' title='How much more..'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-7068443882013174494</id><published>2008-05-11T23:16:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2008-05-15T20:40:15.653+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>It's over now.</title><content type='html'>Tonight I confronted him with all the evidence I had on him. He had every chance to come clean before I did this but he just flat out denied everything. He never showed any remorse or took any responsibility for his actions what so ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no idea of how to tell my children that mom and dad are getting divorced and that we're moving to a new city and they have to change school/pre-school because of all this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At some point I have to stop crying but I'm not there yet...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-7068443882013174494?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/7068443882013174494/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=7068443882013174494' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/7068443882013174494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/7068443882013174494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2008/05/its-over-now.html' title='It&apos;s over now.'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-3252367806880631340</id><published>2008-04-13T20:24:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2008-05-15T20:45:36.182+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Engla'/><title type='text'>Heaven's little angel..</title><content type='html'>I just got the news that Engla was found dead earlier today.The man who was suspected of taking her - the same person who owned the car that was photographed, the same person who lives just a few hundred meter from where I work told the police that he killed her and he showed them where she was buried. He also admitted killing another woman in 2000 only 20 kilometers from where I live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently they found her body only a few kilometers from my house and her cell-phone in an area where a friend of mine lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.thelocal.se/11082/20080413/" target="_blank"&gt;http://www.thelocal.se/11082/20080413/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I knew that he was in custody this past Friday when I called my son's school and told them that he could start walking home as I was driving home from work. When my son was halfway home I met up with him and picked up his school bag and he wanted to walk the rest of the way. I picked up my daughter from preschool and as I was getting out of my car I saw my son come walking down the road. As he came up to me he told me that he had met an older man walking with a boy and this man had apparently asked my son if he wanted to follow this man home. My son gave me a description of this man so I belive it to be true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing is that kids here are allowed to play outside without supervision when they are as young as 6-7 years old and it's no big deal but now I don't know if I can ever let him go outside to play or walk home from school on his own. A few days ago my son asked if I could drive him to his school because he wanted to look for Engla's bicycle as it was missing. He's been asking about her every day since this happend and only moments ago I had to go downstairs to tell him that they had found this girl and that she was dead. It just broke my heart.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-3252367806880631340?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/3252367806880631340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=3252367806880631340' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/3252367806880631340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/3252367806880631340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2008/04/heavens-little-angel.html' title='Heaven&apos;s little angel..'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-8851001952084058964</id><published>2008-04-12T15:49:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2008-04-12T16:07:10.874+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='son'/><title type='text'>I knew something was wrong...</title><content type='html'>My son’s teacher came up to me last semester and told me that she could see improvements in my son’s reading but as time progressed I’ve been having this nagging feeling that something was wrong. A few weeks ago I was sitting in the living room and I could hear my son doing his homework and his father was there to read with him. I didn’t pay much attention to what was going on but my son came over to me a few minutes later and I thought I should take a look myself and see if his reading was coming along.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It didn’t take more than a few minutes for me to figure out that my son was cheating while doing his homework. It was hard to tell at first but eventually I noticed that he was letting me to the reading – or sounding the letters in the words for him and by this making everyone think that he was reading.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My husband had the opportunity to talk with one of our son’s teachers this past week and that very same day they had performed a study on every child to see how they were doing and as I suspected my son wasn’t doing that good. As of a few days ago I have been making games and worksheets for my son and we’re working and playing with these to help him and it has to be fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m going to see if I can get a chance to talk to my son’s teacher in a few weeks to see if they have noticed any improvements by then. Because my husband is dyslectic I knew that one or both of my children could grow up to have the same disability themselves and that is why I chose to take a specific course when I was studying to get my degree in teaching and today I’m so very thankful that I got the opportunity do to that because I feel that I’m more prepared to help my child today than I would have been without the knowledge I got while taking this class.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-8851001952084058964?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/8851001952084058964/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=8851001952084058964' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/8851001952084058964'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/8851001952084058964'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2008/04/i-knew-something-was-wrong.html' title='I knew something was wrong...'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-1810322126908957653</id><published>2008-04-06T21:17:00.007+02:00</published><updated>2008-05-15T20:41:30.379+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='job'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>I'm not obsessed. I promise!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://i73.photobucket.com/albums/i209/pernedlorien/working.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i73.photobucket.com/albums/i209/pernedlorien/working.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom and my sister have both been bugging me to do some work on two websites and they had every right to do so. I was supposed to do this a long time ago but I'd always forgotten to do what I promised to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The problem is that I have everything I need but not all in one computer. I've got different programs in either computer and photos in three (some in my husband's computer too). I've got e-mail with instructions on one computer and my ftp-program on the other... you get the drift.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To make a long story short - no one has been able to sit down and eat at our kitchen table and all parents out there cover your eyes now because I'm going to tell everyone that we've been sitting infront of the TV in the livingroom to eat today! :D I know. I'm a terrible mom!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took me almost 10 hours to get most of the work done today and this is me signing off. *bye*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*goodnight*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and yes.. both computers are mine.. *still trying to convince everyone out there I'm not obsessed* ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-1810322126908957653?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/1810322126908957653/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=1810322126908957653' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/1810322126908957653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/1810322126908957653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2008/04/im-not-obsessed-i-promise.html' title='I&apos;m not obsessed. I promise!'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-7809522290739964933</id><published>2008-04-04T18:46:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2008-05-15T20:41:59.314+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='job'/><title type='text'>What is going on?</title><content type='html'>Since I started working at my last job I went to approximately 12-15 interviews for different jobs. And throughout all these 7 months I've been turned down for every one of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was this job that I actually thought that I would get but in the end it turned out that they chose someone else and I was surprised when the same principal called a weeks later asking me to come in and talk to her about another job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing is that I’ve applied for every job available in my area but I’m also figured out that I’ve been blacklisted because I stood up for my child’s rights and my former boss wasn’t to keen on that. This is the reason to why I was utterly floored the other day when I was offered a job only 12 kilometers from where I live and I accepted!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started my new job this past Wednesday and yesterday everyone working in pre-school went to this amazing lecture! All of the principals were there too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today as I was getting ready to go home I noticed that a principal in my area had called but I couldn’t figure out which one. My boss have a number that ends with 25, my former boss – 26 and this number ended with 27. I had to look it up as soon as I got home and I saw that it was a boss that I had sent my CV too but this was a long time ago. I tried to call her back but she wasn’t available.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few hours she did call back and she wants me to come in for this interview on Tuesday and the strange part is that she saw me yesterday when we were all at this lecture and she knew that I’m working in the general area and she knows that I’m substituting for 3-4 months but she wants to see me any way. This job that I’m interviewing for is a full time job and it’s a permanent job on top of that!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-7809522290739964933?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/7809522290739964933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=7809522290739964933' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/7809522290739964933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/7809522290739964933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2008/04/what-is-going-on.html' title='What is going on?'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-6248460115778820455</id><published>2008-03-30T19:18:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2008-05-15T20:43:03.818+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='daughter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='job'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='son'/><title type='text'>Life, stuff and more.</title><content type='html'>Tomorrow is my last day of work at my old work-place and on Wednesday I'll start my new job. I'm both looking forward to starting this new job but I'm going to miss the kids a lot. I actually started crying the other day while I was saying goodbye to a little girl. I can't belive I've had that job for 7 months and now I'm leaving for a new preschool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure if I have written anything about how things are between my husband and myself. For a very long time we've been co-existing within the same space but we haven't even talked to each other or anything. A few days ago I simply lost my temper and told him if my husband wanted a divorce and a way out of this I could simply just print out the documents needed for a divorce and we'd be done. After that things have been a litte better and we can now even spend time in the same room. I'm still not sure of what I want to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I turned 32 the other day. Yeehaa. Well.. almost. :) My kids gave me two cookbooks because they now that cookbooks are a real obsession of mine. Erik gave me one called "Barbeque" and Emma gave me "deserts". I just love my kids! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-6248460115778820455?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/6248460115778820455/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=6248460115778820455' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/6248460115778820455'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/6248460115778820455'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2008/03/life-stuff-and-more.html' title='Life, stuff and more.'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-6332844743746178459</id><published>2008-01-28T16:21:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2008-05-15T20:43:19.958+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='church'/><title type='text'>You are going home.</title><content type='html'>I got a text message this morning telling me that our prophet died only an hour and a half earlier. It’s truly a great loss and he will be missed. He was a man that touched a lot of people and a lot of hearts but now he is going home to our Father to live with him and he is going home to meet his wife again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The world is a lesser place without you President Hinckley.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-6332844743746178459?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://newsroom.lds.org/ldsnewsroom/eng/' title='You are going home.'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/6332844743746178459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=6332844743746178459' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/6332844743746178459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/6332844743746178459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2008/01/you-are-going-home.html' title='You are going home.'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-7505041231453485983</id><published>2008-01-21T20:27:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-01-21T20:28:50.386+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='job'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><title type='text'>Twinkle twinkle little star</title><content type='html'>What can I say? It’s like living on a never ending rollercoaster ride! Thank goodness there is some good news that comes with that. I managed to call my unemployment office while coughing like mad. I don’t have to take that job that I interviewed for last week! And knowing that has made my life so much easier – I can’t tell you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is still a lot going on at work and the only way I see out of that problem is to quit. I’d like to do that but as long as I don’t have another job I’m going to have to stick with what I’ve got at the moment. Not exactly what I’ve dreamt of but what can I do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are more good news! To me it feels like yesterday but 9 years ago I started the long and tedious job of filling out a ton of paperwork only to go to the States to work as an au-pair. In November I saw this agency looking for people to perform interviews for this kind of work and I applied but I didn’t think much more of it until they actually called me back last week and offered me the job! And today I got my first call-sheet and I am going to call this girl tomorrow and book an interview with her. If this goes well I will also get applicants for high school to interview. I know this is just a part-time job but it will be a much appreciated addition to our vacation- or Christmas fund.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and I talked to Aaron the other day! I still can’t believe I found this friend of mine! I thought I would never get to talk to him again but somehow he is back in my life and I could not be happier! &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-7505041231453485983?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/7505041231453485983/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=7505041231453485983' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/7505041231453485983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/7505041231453485983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2008/01/twinkle-twinkle-little-star.html' title='Twinkle twinkle little star'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-3755331719380781866</id><published>2008-01-11T22:26:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-01-11T22:27:39.274+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>Falling apart</title><content type='html'>I broke down in tears last night. I don’t know for how much longer I can take it. Everything that has been going on at my job, when it comes to my relationship to my husband and now also the governments rules regarding all of us with no job or only a part time job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Monday I’m supposed to visit a school an hour drive away. The job that I’m interviewing for is only for 4 hours a day and I’m supposed to work between 2-6 pm. I can’t do that since I have to pick up my children before 6:30 at the latest and I can’t just take my kids and move to a new city for a job that will only last for 4 months! I can never get a new apartment or childcare in time for that job to start but if I don’t take it I’ll loose my unemployment cheque and I would have no income to live on. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t sleep. I don’t eat and every night I start crying. I don’t know for how long I can go on without falling apart.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-3755331719380781866?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/3755331719380781866/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=3755331719380781866' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/3755331719380781866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/3755331719380781866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2008/01/falling-apart.html' title='Falling apart'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-853908388953458285</id><published>2008-01-01T10:59:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-05-15T20:44:27.690+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='2007'/><title type='text'>A new beginning</title><content type='html'>It's almost 11 am and I'm sitting here thinking about the year that ended not even 12 hours ago. It's been a year with lots of ups and downs. In January I got a call from someone of whom I was a fan of when I was 8 and today he's my boss. I couldn't belive it that a famous person would actually call my house. Not only is he my boss today but I also have what lots of his fans out there want - his phone numbers. *lol*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In February I got a job as a pre-school teacher and that job ended at the end of May. In September I got a new job again and that job ended not that many days ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This past summer was really rough on me. My husband and I had been fighting a lot and we drifted apart so one day I just broke down and left everyone and everything for two days. At the moment I still don't see much of a change in our relationship and I have begun to question various parts of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With that said. Today is a new day, a new year and it should be a new beginning. I have but one New Years resolution and no. It's not loosing weight or anything because I'm already doing that. *S* My resolusion is to take up my writing again and next to me there is a book. In this book I wrote down I dream I had in April of 1998 (on the 12th as a matter of fact). I've shown this text to a couple of people and I more and more feel that I need to get it down in writing in a more proper way that a few scribblings after I woke up in the middle of the night after having this dream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would encourage everyone to do something for someone this coming year but do it anonymously - be someone's secret Santa and make sure you show everyone you love and care about that you will always be there for them when they need a shoulder to cry on or simply someone to talk to.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-853908388953458285?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/853908388953458285/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=853908388953458285' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/853908388953458285'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/853908388953458285'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2008/01/new-beginning.html' title='A new beginning'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-5967994049250498859</id><published>2007-12-26T12:01:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2008-05-15T20:52:38.747+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='P.I.F.'/><title type='text'>Pay It Forward</title><content type='html'>I will send a handmade gift to the first 3 people who leave a comment on my blog requesting to join this PIF exchange. I don't know what that gift will be yet and you may not receive it tomorrow or next week, but you will receive it within 365 days, that is my promise! The only thing you have to do in return is pay it forward by making the same promise on your blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De tre första som lämnar en kommentar till detta inlägg kommer att få ett paket med någonting som jag har gjort och som det står i texten ovan: Kanske inte imorgon eller om en vecka, men du kommer att få ett litet paket inom 365 dagar, det lovar jag och allt du behöver göra är att skicka vidare genom att lova samma sak på din blogg samt såklart lämna en kommentar här!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-5967994049250498859?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/5967994049250498859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=5967994049250498859' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/5967994049250498859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/5967994049250498859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2007/12/pay-it-forward.html' title='Pay It Forward'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-3382036135299417762</id><published>2007-12-21T19:39:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2008-05-15T20:46:21.962+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='job'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Longing for Christmas</title><content type='html'>A couple of months ago we decided to transform the junkroom in our basement into a bedroom for our son and in the process of moving everything from one room to the other all of my christmas decorations got lost and I can't find them. I've had these love/hate feelings when it comes to this particular holiday but this year I wanted to decorate the house and get a tree - only to discover that I couldn't even find anything to decorate with but I managed to buy a few things and the house is now decorated - not in a traditional swedish christmas decorated theme but my own version of a cozy christmas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And as of today I'm unemployed again. The strange thing is even though I had a hard time saying goodbye to the kids I feel I need to take some time off to get back on track once more. There is a reason for why no new entries have been made but I can't talk about them since there is an investigation going on concerning things that has happend at my job. All I can say is that I am not involved myself. Well I kind of am but only as a witness and the fact that I had to write a statement about a cople of things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't say that I'm looking forward going through the process of getting a new job again but I try to tell myself that there is a meaning to why things happen. Like this thing at work - there was a reason to why I got this job and not any of the other 3 that I could have gotten 3-4 months ago and there is someone/a workplace out there who needs me and fate will lead me to that special place.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-3382036135299417762?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/3382036135299417762/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=3382036135299417762' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/3382036135299417762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/3382036135299417762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2007/12/longing-for-christmas.html' title='Longing for Christmas'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-7642118956140746983</id><published>2007-12-01T18:36:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-12-01T18:37:23.642+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blogthings'/><title type='text'>What holiday am I?</title><content type='html'>&lt;table width=350 align=center border=0 cellspacing=0 cellpadding=2&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#EEEEEE" align=center&gt;&lt;font face="Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif" style='color:black; font-size: 14pt;'&gt;&lt;b&gt;You Are Valentine's Day&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.blogthings.com/whatholidayareyouquiz/valentines.gif" height="100" width="100"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;font color="#000000"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are a true romantic who places the ultimate importance on love.&lt;br /&gt;You are warm hearted, and you find it easy to care for people.&lt;br /&gt;Love is what drives you - and you have a love to give.&lt;br /&gt;You enjoy making someone's day. You're full of surprises.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What makes you celebrate: Being with the person you love on a special day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At holiday get togethers, you do best as: The sentimental one &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a holiday, you're the one most likely to: See it as romantic and special&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com/whatholidayareyouquiz/"&gt;What Holiday Are You?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-7642118956140746983?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/7642118956140746983/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=7642118956140746983' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/7642118956140746983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/7642118956140746983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2007/12/what-holiday-am-i.html' title='What holiday am I?'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-5540027973451974139</id><published>2007-11-29T22:39:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-11-29T22:59:47.689+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='photo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Snow wonder</title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i141.photobucket.com/albums/r74/familjengranlund/DSC00706.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Even before I opened my eyes this morning I knew that there was something special about this day and I was right. As I pulled the curtains aside I just stood there in awe and saw the snowflakes slowly falling to the ground. I just love the snow! I’m like a child on Christmas Eve. The drive to work was a bore since there is something about the snow that makes a lot of people really nervous about driving. I can’t really understand why when we live in a part of the world where the ground is covered with this beautiful white blanket for up to five months a year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of a sudden I was 12 again, waiting for my friends to come over so we could start digging in the snow, making fortresses, throwing snow-balls at each other and all I could think of was that I wanted to go outside to make snow-angels but I had to go to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i141.photobucket.com/albums/r74/familjengranlund/DSC00712.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In 7 hours we got almost 5 centimeters of snow and by the time I got to go home the road had started to close up. This far up in the northern hemisphere it get’s dark really soon in the winter and today was no exception. I got home around 5 pm and by then it was almost pitch black outside but it didn’t stop me and my children to get dressed and run outside. As usual my snow-hating husband refused to come with us but my children and I had a great time!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-5540027973451974139?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/5540027973451974139/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=5540027973451974139' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/5540027973451974139'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/5540027973451974139'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2007/11/snow-wonder.html' title='Snow wonder'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-6411470481801265653</id><published>2007-11-23T22:10:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-12-01T18:14:25.224+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blogthings'/><title type='text'>What color crayon am I?</title><content type='html'>&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="2" width="350" align="center" border="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="middle"  style="color:#eeeeee;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;You Are a Green Crayon&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#ffffff"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img height="100" src="http://images.blogthings.com/whatcolorcrayonareyouquiz/green.gif" width="100" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Your world is colored in harmonious, peaceful, natural colors.While some may associate green with money, you are one of the least materialistic people around.Comfort is important to you. You like to feel as relaxed as possible - and you try to make others feel at ease.You're very happy with who you are, and it certainly shows!&lt;br /&gt;Your color wheel opposite is red. Every time you feel grounded, a red person does their best to shake you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com/whatcolorcrayonareyouquiz/"&gt;http://www.blogthings.com/whatcolorcrayonareyouquiz/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What Color Crayon Are You?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-6411470481801265653?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/6411470481801265653/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=6411470481801265653' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/6411470481801265653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/6411470481801265653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2007/11/what-color-crayon-am-i.html' title='What color crayon am I?'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-6166538246702394314</id><published>2007-11-17T10:27:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-11-17T10:29:42.982+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><title type='text'>A sleeping child.</title><content type='html'>A couple of days ago I was standing by the window at my job looking out over the sleeping children outside and it dawned on me what a confidence their parents have in us that are taking care of their children every day. I along with two more teachers have been given the trust to take care of these children whom they love dearly and they are depending on us to help them as parents to prepare this child for life, to nurture, to teach and also to love their child.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyday at work I get so many hugs and I give them as well. To have a child that is not your own come up to you only to give you a hug because they like you is a truly awesome experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are not that many things in life that are this rewarding and I go to work everyday with a smile on my face because I know that I will get to meet 17 wonderful children and I get to spend a few hours every week with them and it is so gratifying.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-6166538246702394314?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/6166538246702394314/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=6166538246702394314' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/6166538246702394314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/6166538246702394314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2007/11/sleeping-child.html' title='A sleeping child.'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-7393690363833724163</id><published>2007-11-08T18:21:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-11-08T18:22:45.389+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><title type='text'>taking all the credit</title><content type='html'>Let’s see if I can explain all of this so that it makes sense and at the same time I have to keep in mind that I signed documents about confidentiality when it comes to my job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We’ve all met children of all ages that have had a rough time and as I’m working with children I am told what is going on in these children’s lives. There is this child and something happened when we were all around (at work). One of my co-workers has been telling everyone that this child only connects with her and she’s the only one this child will accept and that the rest of us will have a hard time dealing with this child when she’s not around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve never found that to be true and yesterday morning my feelings where confirmed. As this child came to the preschool yesterday morning along with a woman that usually drives this child to us in the morning. She said that she was glad that it was me that was there because she had noticed that this child stayed calm, was well-adjusted and that the child was in control of itself when I was there. Another mother has frequently told us that her child has had a lot of issues but that her child has calmed down recently and what do you know – the same co-worker is taking all the credit for that as well but I know that I’m the one who is the one that is working with this child more than anyone else at work and I know that it’s not my co-worker that has achieved this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At work I don’t talk about this because I’m only a temp. If I start correcting my co-worker I might not have a job to go to. All I can do is know that all of my hard work with this last child has paid off and I also now know that the first child is more adjusted that my co-worker is letting the rest of us know but it bugs me knowing that someone else is taking the credit for all the hours I have put in to help these children to become part of the whole group and to help them to calm down.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-7393690363833724163?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/7393690363833724163/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=7393690363833724163' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/7393690363833724163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/7393690363833724163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2007/11/taking-all-credit.html' title='taking all the credit'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-7927797161279056246</id><published>2007-11-07T16:02:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2008-05-15T20:46:56.533+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='church'/><title type='text'>I'm still alive.</title><content type='html'>I should have written something in my blog ages ago but RL has definitely been keeping my busy. I’m still working and my days are still very stressful but I’m starting to find more and more ways of dealing with it. I actually thought I was fine with the whole situation until last Saturday when I went to see a friend of mine. She dyed my hair dark and as she was rinsing out the hair-dye a lot of hair fell off. My body is starting to show signs of being affected by all the stress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And as for changing the color of my hair. Why is it that something so simple can make you feel like a whole new person? So I’m not blond anymore! *lol* I’ll see if I can upload a pic of the new me! :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and I have to tell you all about what happened last Friday! I had so much fun! I invited my group of girls for a surprise last Friday and we met at the chapel. We drove up to this area were they have a lot of sites around in the forest were you can light a fire and sit down for hot dogs. It was pitch black and we had to walk a couple of hundred meters without any light. As soon as we got there we started a fire and I immediately told them stories of when I met a ghost and other stories like like this that I’ve heard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An hour after we got to this place the girls thought they heard something in the forest. They could hear the sound of branches breaking, voices whispering and at one point I thought one of them actually might pass out! There, not more than 20 meters from were we where, we could se the silhouette of someone just standing there in the middle of the path we had taken earlier!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I knew who were out there but even I was scared! Later on the guys came up to us and we had a great time together – 6 girls and 5 guys and the leaders of both groups!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This Friday I’m going to teach them origami. J&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-7927797161279056246?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/7927797161279056246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=7927797161279056246' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/7927797161279056246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/7927797161279056246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2007/11/im-still-alive.html' title='I&apos;m still alive.'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-3635186710382820452</id><published>2007-10-15T18:12:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-10-15T18:13:35.429+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='church'/><title type='text'>busy busy busy</title><content type='html'>About 4 weeks ago I got a call from one of the leaders in my branch – at church and he asked if I was willing to serve as the young women’s president. So yesterday at church I finally got my calling and one of the old advisors gave me her books and stuff. I finally got a hold of my friend who used to be the president and got some information about this from her as well but understandably I’m both very excited about this and scared to death. J I’ve never been a part of the young women’s so I have nothing to look back at and to draw experience from but in the end I think everything will work out just perfect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And on top of that! At the start of this year I also started my work as my branch seminary teacher so now I have both callings and I’m a mother of two working full time. Don’t think for a second that I’m complaining. I love being busy but my only problem is that I might have a problem saying no when I feel that I can’t take it anymore but anyway… I can’t wait to get started!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-3635186710382820452?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/3635186710382820452/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=3635186710382820452' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/3635186710382820452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/3635186710382820452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2007/10/busy-busy-busy.html' title='busy busy busy'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-3936609193894064654</id><published>2007-10-03T19:12:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-10-03T19:13:38.393+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Cactus of the week</title><content type='html'>You can either send in an add to give someone a virtual rose if they have done something for you or you can send in to give someone a thorn or a cactus. Something tells me that the “cactus of the week” I read in one of our add-papers was for me and my husband and frankly – I don’t care! I started to laugh at work today when I read it because this is just ridiculous!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can’t give you all the details – maybe because I can’t remember all of them myself because this has been going on for almost 7 years now. And by giving you information about what the cactus was for I’m also revealing too much of myself and my family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I can pass along one thing that was written and also reply to that – there where so many things in this “cactus of the week” but one thing that we got a cactus for was that this person is sending my son money for every birthday and also sends my son’s photo and a happy birthday wish to the local newspaper to print on his birthday.  And the cactus was for us not thanking for the money. In my opinion giving money is NOT a substitute for giving my son love, a hug or just visiting them. And then another thing – the money and photo thing is only given to my son and not both children and that is also a huge reason to why we’re not getting down on our knees, kissing this person’s feet for every dollar that is given to our son!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My husband has made some decisions to keep his family as safe from harm as possible. He himself has done a couple of very difficult choices and there are people out there who can’t accept that because it is an inconvenience to them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I feel like my children are being used in some evil scheme only to satisfy one person – with the help of plenty of friends and family who are to blind to see that they are being used themselves.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-3936609193894064654?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/3936609193894064654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=3936609193894064654' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/3936609193894064654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/3936609193894064654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2007/10/cactus-of-week.html' title='Cactus of the week'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-8520088672177808001</id><published>2007-10-01T17:59:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2007-10-03T20:03:57.326+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Today’s rant</title><content type='html'>My husband turns 40 on October 22nd and I've been planning this dinner for him for a very long time. I only invited our closest friends, his family and also a few people from my family. So far all of our friends have contacted me telling me if they are coming or not and so have all of the relatives on my side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are still 6 hours to go before the end of today and today was the last day for everyone to tell me if they are coming or not - so far none of my husband's relatives - dad, stepmother, 2 sisters with husbands and kids have either e-mailed, called or stent me a text message telling me that they are coming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I guess that there will only be our friends and my family at this surprise dinner party on the 13th.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;update: only 2 hours before midnight two more families called to tell me that they are coming. Now all I have to do is to get shopping! :)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-8520088672177808001?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/8520088672177808001/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=8520088672177808001' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/8520088672177808001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/8520088672177808001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2007/10/todays-rant.html' title='Today’s rant'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-8584374790615321798</id><published>2007-09-28T22:48:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-09-28T23:10:38.587+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='job'/><title type='text'>Not again.</title><content type='html'>So this was supposed to be my day off since I had this interview to go to but on my way there I got a call from a co-worker asking me to come in to work afterwards anyway and I could tell something had happend so I told her I'd be there as soon as I could.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this interview went well - or so I thought. I got to work and my two co-workers came running and gave me this hug and later I found out why they had to get rid of this new temp.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I stayed and kept on working. Later in the afternoon I got a call and I was told for the third time in three weeks that I didn't get the job and if anyone ever tells me one more time that "I was the kind of person that they where looking for" "they really liked me" "I had the right attitude towards the job and the children but.." I'm going to scream!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And boy. Don't ever tell me again that "&lt;em&gt;I am sure you'll get a job really soon&lt;/em&gt;" because I can tell you something. It would feel a lot better if they just slapped me across the face instead. I'm so sick of this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just fell like taking out a large tub of ice-cream and binge while crying in front of the TV.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-8584374790615321798?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/8584374790615321798/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=8584374790615321798' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/8584374790615321798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/8584374790615321798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2007/09/not-again.html' title='Not again.'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-9109618894260293679</id><published>2007-09-23T19:32:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2008-05-15T20:48:31.951+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='church'/><title type='text'>It's killing me!</title><content type='html'>I have two big news to share but the problem is that I can't talk about them for different reasons. Anyone who knows me is very well aware of the fact that I have to talk about things that happen in my life if it's a good thing. I just want to go outside and scream from the top of my lungs!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first of these two news happend around lunchtime when a friend of mine called. The other news also has to do with a phone call but in this case I could not even think that they would call on a Sunday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you happen to read this now and I haven't posted any more about this then just stick around and I promise that I'll post everything that I can in here as soon as I can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That´s a promise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;edit: I was asked to serve as the Young Womens president at my branch. :)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-9109618894260293679?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/9109618894260293679/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=9109618894260293679' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/9109618894260293679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/9109618894260293679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2007/09/its-killing-me.html' title='It&apos;s killing me!'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-9106358170801181660</id><published>2007-09-22T19:28:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-09-22T19:32:27.408+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='scifi'/><title type='text'>Farscape vid - my immortal</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/yXk8PAdYC3Y" width="425" height="350" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I absolutely love SciFi! Now Farscpe was cancelled a couple of years ago, a few months ago we learned that Stargate SG-1 was cancelled. The only thing that keeps me going is Stargate Atlantis and a few fanvids like this one. I can't tell you how many times I've watched this particular fanvid and cried....&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-9106358170801181660?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/9106358170801181660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=9106358170801181660' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/9106358170801181660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/9106358170801181660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2007/09/farscape-vid-my-immortal.html' title='Farscape vid - my immortal'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-67726725167542588</id><published>2007-09-18T22:23:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-09-23T19:39:14.599+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='job'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Big brother is watching.</title><content type='html'>It is interesting to see that people think they can write anything online and that they don't understand that everything they do may have consequences. Just take this woman that we called in last week to fill in where I work at the moment. At one point she and I started talking about the Internet and forums for parents and such. She suddenly mentions this particular forum that I am also a member at so I thought that I should just see if I can find her on that forum. It took me about a minute or two to find her. Now here’s the problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In posts in the forum I can find different statements about her child’s preschool. It’s not the one I work at but I know people who work there and this young woman is quite verbal and in some posts she is really annoyed with her child’s teachers, and when I started to read her own presentation amongst other things she states that she has been arrested. Now I know that she has never been convicted of anything because if you are going to work in childcare or at a school in this country you have to produce a document from the police saying that you are not convicted of a fellony and she had this document. But just reading that she has been arrested and the fact that she does speak a lot about co-workers of mine and on top of it all: she uses her own name and her child’s name in her presentation so anyone who knows her or has any idea of where she lives can easily find out which person she is talking about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then another thing – the facebook hype has hit this country too! I found a long lost friend in there. It turned out that he had registered only a week before me and then as soon as I became a member I started looking up old friends and I found this guy! I’ve been looking for him for a while but now he’s found. :D The other thing is that I’m not to crazy about finding out things about people only because I happen to take a quick glance at their presentation. Just today I found out that my father has apparently broken up with his girlfriend. I don’t expect him to give me a call or anything but just send me a message so I don’t say something I shouldn’t the next time I talk to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That’s all from me today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goodnight&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-67726725167542588?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/67726725167542588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=67726725167542588' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/67726725167542588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/67726725167542588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2007/09/big-brother-is-watching-you.html' title='Big brother is watching.'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-6237899805952493774</id><published>2007-09-18T15:11:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-09-23T19:39:26.513+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='job'/><title type='text'>Third Time's the Charm?</title><content type='html'>I’m getting really sick of this! One rejection after another! So this time they actually sent me an e-mail instead of calling me telling me that I didn’t get the job. That was the second job interview in a short period of time. They say third time’s the charm but I don’t know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I know right now is that I have a job to go to this week and the next two weeks but after that I have no idea of what I'll be doing. I don’t want to go back to work as an "emergency temp" again when I get a phone call in the morning and I can end up working anywhere that day and then I just have to go home and wait for the next phone call.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-6237899805952493774?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/6237899805952493774/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=6237899805952493774' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/6237899805952493774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/6237899805952493774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2007/09/third-times-charm.html' title='Third Time&apos;s the Charm?'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-144507635695764521</id><published>2007-09-15T18:09:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-09-23T19:39:37.208+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='job'/><title type='text'>I feel so confused.</title><content type='html'>It may turn out to that I don’t even have a problem but let’s just play the devil’s advocate for a moment. I wrote about a job interview a few days ago. At the moment I’m filling in for someone at a daycare-center and here is my problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What if I get this job that I’ve applied for? And what if this daycare-center asks me to stay a while longer?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first job is at an office. Full time, permanent basis. There will be no scheduling-problems between that job and my children’s daycare and it sounds really interesting! On the other hand – I do have a degree in teaching and that is what I want to do but not at a daycare-center but if I manage to fill in for 2 years I will automatically have a permanent job as a teacher somewhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now I feel desperate enough to take any job that is offered to me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-144507635695764521?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/144507635695764521/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=144507635695764521' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/144507635695764521'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/144507635695764521'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2007/09/i-feel-so-confused.html' title='I feel so confused.'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-8821841262314834698</id><published>2007-09-11T20:01:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-09-23T19:39:49.884+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='job'/><title type='text'>Lit up like a Christmas-tree</title><content type='html'>If there is something that is causing a lot of stress in my life then it definitely is being without a job. Every day I search the Internet to see if there might be a new job out there for me to apply to but they are scares – to say the least.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So today when I got back inside from being out with the children all day at work I saw that all of the icons on my phone had lit up like a Christmas tree: there was a message from my husband, 2 missed calls and one message on my answering-service.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To make a very long story a lot shorter I could just sum up the whole thing with one sentence: I’ve got another job-interview tomorrow morning and this time if I get the job I might be able to practice my English on an everyday basis! This girl could not be happier!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-8821841262314834698?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/8821841262314834698/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=8821841262314834698' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/8821841262314834698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/8821841262314834698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2007/09/lit-up-like-christmas-tree.html' title='Lit up like a Christmas-tree'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-3497679471758612280</id><published>2007-09-10T14:02:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-09-23T19:40:00.104+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='job'/><title type='text'>I felt popular today.</title><content type='html'>My phone rang a few minutes to eight this morning and a school needed me to fill in for a teacher so I took the job and left my house. Within the hour I had received yet another phone call but from the same place that I worked at last week but unfortunately I couldn’t work today but agreed to work there the rest of the week. Before I left today’s job two more schools had called and asked me to fill in for different teachers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something that really bugs me though is the fact that it seems to be impossible to get a job in my county if you live here because all of the teachers hired in the past 2 years have been from another city. Maybe I’ll just have to move there and then move back once I finally get a job here? I do get to work a lot but not here - I have to travel 20 minutes to a nearby city and I seem to be in demand over there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can’t say that I like my situation as it is. I like to know what’s going to happen the next day but now all I do is to sit at home and wait for the phone to call to see if I can get a days work somewhere. I’ve got a degree in teaching, I’ve done my 3½ years of college but it seems to be impossible to get a job that lasts for more than a day or two.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-3497679471758612280?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/3497679471758612280/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=3497679471758612280' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/3497679471758612280'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/3497679471758612280'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2007/09/i-felt-popular-today.html' title='I felt popular today.'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-1235911115962934922</id><published>2007-09-08T15:58:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-09-23T19:40:09.645+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='job'/><title type='text'>Strange</title><content type='html'>It's strange how things work out sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to this jobinterview last Monday and on Tuesday they called to say I didn't get the job. I have to admit that there was something about this job that made me think twice about it but at the same time I was sad that I didn't get a full-time job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Wednesday morning the phone rang. The same person who was interviewing me along with two others called and asked if I wanted to work at another place for three days and I was more than happy to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday only a few hours before my last shift was over they asked if they could call me again if they needed help and of course they can and another thing. I now know more about that job I applied for and now I'm really happy that I didn't get that job. I'm not going to say anything other than that but belive me when I say that for the first time I'm relieved that I didn't get a job.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-1235911115962934922?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/1235911115962934922/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=1235911115962934922' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/1235911115962934922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/1235911115962934922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2007/09/strange.html' title='Strange'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-7699566701510386197</id><published>2007-09-06T19:22:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-09-08T15:38:20.049+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='drabble'/><title type='text'>A gentle breeze</title><content type='html'>The only sound she could hear was the sound of water softly rolling in on the beach as the sun set over the cove. A gentle breeze flowed through her hair and she could hear his footsteps as he walked towards her. She could sense his presence where he stopped behind her. His fingers touched her shoulder only to brush her hair aside so he could place a soft, tender kiss on her shoulder. She started to shiver as he slowly kissed the side of her neck. He turned her head and she saw the love in his eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~drabble by Seven~&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-7699566701510386197?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/7699566701510386197/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=7699566701510386197' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/7699566701510386197'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/7699566701510386197'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2007/09/gentle-breeze.html' title='A gentle breeze'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-4100570216475696689</id><published>2007-08-29T03:39:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-09-08T15:38:04.761+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poem'/><title type='text'>Slow dance</title><content type='html'>Have you ever watched kids&lt;br /&gt;On a merry-go-round?&lt;br /&gt;Or listened to the rain&lt;br /&gt;Slapping on the ground?&lt;br /&gt;Ever followed a butterfly's erratic flight?&lt;br /&gt;Or gazed at the sun into the fading night?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You better slow down.&lt;br /&gt;Don't dance so fast.&lt;br /&gt;Time is short.&lt;br /&gt;The music won't last.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you run through each day&lt;br /&gt;On the fly?&lt;br /&gt;When you ask&lt;br /&gt;How are you?&lt;br /&gt;Do you hear the reply?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the day is done&lt;br /&gt;Do you lie in your bed&lt;br /&gt;With the next hundred chores&lt;br /&gt;Running through your head?&lt;br /&gt;You'd better slow down&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't dance so fast.&lt;br /&gt;Time is short.&lt;br /&gt;The music won't last.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever told your child,&lt;br /&gt;We'll do it tomorrow?&lt;br /&gt;And in your haste,&lt;br /&gt;Not see his sorrow?&lt;br /&gt;Ever lost touch,&lt;br /&gt;Let a good friendship die&lt;br /&gt;Cause you never had time&lt;br /&gt;To call and say,'Hi'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You'd better slow down.&lt;br /&gt;Don't dance so fast.&lt;br /&gt;Time is short.&lt;br /&gt;The music won't last.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you run so fast to get somewhere&lt;br /&gt;You miss half the fun of getting there.&lt;br /&gt;When you worry and hurry through your day,&lt;br /&gt;It is like anunopened gift....&lt;br /&gt;Thrown away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is not a race.&lt;br /&gt;Do take it slower&lt;br /&gt;Hear the music&lt;br /&gt;Before the song is over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~author unknown~&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-4100570216475696689?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/4100570216475696689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=4100570216475696689' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/4100570216475696689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/4100570216475696689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2007/08/slow-dance.html' title='Slow dance'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-2860765970759816809</id><published>2007-08-26T11:36:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2008-05-15T20:50:30.210+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>I do not like this - at all!</title><content type='html'>Yesterday the weather was great and I spent 2½ hours walking on different paths in the woods close to where I live and it was magical.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning I woke up with a cold, headache and I just knew there was no way I was ever going to be able to go to church so the kids and I stayed at home. When my husband woke up we just had to go grocery shopping if we wanted to survive this weekend. When we finally got home I was so tired I actually felt sick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I grabbed a book and brought it with me to the livingroom and sat down to read while also drinking tons of fluid. Now it's close to midnight and all of the painkillers I've been taking today is going to keep me up all night.. which means that I'm going to be just as tired tomorrow as I am today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-2860765970759816809?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/2860765970759816809/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=2860765970759816809' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/2860765970759816809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/2860765970759816809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2007/08/i-do-not-like-this-at-all.html' title='I do not like this - at all!'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-6030700412680988332</id><published>2007-08-10T11:40:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-09-23T19:40:45.588+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='photo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='son'/><title type='text'>That bitch!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://i111.photobucket.com/albums/n160/aurian-seven/bloggbilder/tistel.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i111.photobucket.com/albums/n160/aurian-seven/bloggbilder/tistel.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 232px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 155px" height="172" alt="" src="http://i111.photobucket.com/albums/n160/aurian-seven/bloggbilder/tistel.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Last night I found out that someone we knew lured my son and his friend to her apartment for some ice-cream! He has no idea of who she is and hubby wants to have nothing to do with her since she turned our lives into a living hell for so many years and now she takes advatage of the fact that Erik has a friend that he loves to play with only a few hundred &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;meters from her and this is the first time she got them to follow her home - the last time she tried something like this Erik came home crying and he was so scared!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-6030700412680988332?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/6030700412680988332/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=6030700412680988332' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/6030700412680988332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/6030700412680988332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2007/08/that-bitch.html' title='That bitch!'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i111.photobucket.com/albums/n160/aurian-seven/bloggbilder/th_tistel.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-6838971296953253920</id><published>2007-07-31T23:17:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-09-23T19:40:56.037+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='son'/><title type='text'>Erik's room!</title><content type='html'>Unfortunally I can't show you the short vid I made of his room since I use his real name in the vid I made and not the name I'm using on this site but the room has transformed from a junk-room into a great room for a 6-year old!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were a few people who didn't think that Erik would ever sleep alone downstairs in the basement but he absolutely did and he loves his room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- And so does his mother! There is finally peace and quiet in the house. Erik can take his friends and go downstairs to his room leaving his little sister upstairs. Now she can't bother them and make a lot of fuss when Erik and his friends are not willing to let her join in the fun!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-6838971296953253920?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/6838971296953253920/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=6838971296953253920' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/6838971296953253920'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/6838971296953253920'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2007/07/eriks-room.html' title='Erik&apos;s room!'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-6862702681197646286</id><published>2007-07-26T07:22:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-09-23T19:42:27.357+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='daughter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='son'/><title type='text'>And I'm back.</title><content type='html'>I just packed things that the kids and I would need for 4 days and got in my car and drove down to my dad's house by the sea and I was so confused. During that time our friend spoke with my husband and he said that he didn't know if he even wanted to work things out and stay together anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got back home this past Tuesday and that same evening our friend and I drove over to our house and we talked for a couple of hours. I can't say that things improved much but there where things I got to say and demand for all of this to work and one thing was that I was going to be able to have one day a week all to myself - no questions asked! And I got it! Over these two days things have improved a little but there is still a long way to go but at least there is hope...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-6862702681197646286?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/6862702681197646286/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=6862702681197646286' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/6862702681197646286'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/6862702681197646286'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2007/07/and-im-back.html' title='And I&apos;m back.'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-8112508388501283148</id><published>2007-07-13T10:10:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-09-23T19:42:17.097+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='photo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='daughter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='son'/><title type='text'>update</title><content type='html'>I've tried talking to my husband about this but he just doesn't get it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the more I go on about it the more he thinks I annoy him. I left the house early Tuesday afternoon and he is still not talking to me unless I force him to say something but then he only answer in as few words as possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend is coming home tomorrow evening hopefully and I'll get to see them at church on Sunday. And I do hope they can help me with this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 194px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 110px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="128" alt="" src="http://i111.photobucket.com/albums/n160/aurian-seven/bloggbilder/DSC00532.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it's not all bad. I have to tell you about my day and. I took the kids to a playground this morning and we stayed for a few hours. After that we went home and had lunch - Erik made it for us. Not long after that we left for the beach and it's not really the kind of weather where you would like to go swimming but I figured that the kids would like to play with the sand and the water anyway. Before we went home we went for a walk at a "stone-troll-path" (translated directly from swedish to english), got lost but managed to find our way back home. There where tons and tons of blueberries out in the forrest and the kids looked like smurfs when we got back home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kids and I have had a fantastic day today and tomorrow we are leaving for a place that the kids have never been to but one that I loved as a child and there are wonderful playgrounds here and animals to pet and it's all in canyon where you can climb up and down the walls of it. I hope the weather will be as nice tomorrow as it has been today.. And of course I will post pics of that as well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-8112508388501283148?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/8112508388501283148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=8112508388501283148' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/8112508388501283148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/8112508388501283148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2007/07/update.html' title='update'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i111.photobucket.com/albums/n160/aurian-seven/bloggbilder/th_DSC00532.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-5871610835296577918</id><published>2007-07-12T10:18:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T16:12:02.049+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='daughter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='son'/><title type='text'>Couldn't take it anymore</title><content type='html'>This is not going to be easy for me to write about but this past Tuesday I suffered a complete breakdown and I left my kids and my family for 2 days not telling them where I went. I just had to get out of the house to breath. I did call my mother-in-law before making that desicion to ask if they could look after the kids for a few days and they had no problem with doing just that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;But here goes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Emma has really huge temper tantrums and she is still acting the same way. Erik has also begun to test me a lot lately and while my husband can go to work, to to the gym, go out with friends to party or to go to the movies with his sister I stay at home with the kids with no time at all to be alone or to do something I want to do. For a couple of weeks now I've begun to feel really stressed out and this is getting to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so this past Tuesday I started crying and I raised my voice. My husband came running screaming from the bedroom and yelled at me for doing this. I started hyperventilating and at one point I thougt that I was going to pass out. Somehow I got hold of my car keys, my wallet, my cellphone and a bottle of water and I took the car, drove to a parkinglot and I sat there and cried and my whole body was shaking. I finally managed to call a friend and I talked with her for 30 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I called my mother-in-law to ask if they could look after the children for a few days, went over to their house and dropped a few things off and drove away not knowing where.&lt;a href="http://i111.photobucket.com/albums/n160/aurian-seven/bloggbilder/DSC005221.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 148px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 101px" height="163" alt="" src="http://i111.photobucket.com/albums/n160/aurian-seven/bloggbilder/DSC005221.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; After about an hour I figured I could go to my grandparents grave so I went there and sat on a bench overlooking a lake for 2 hours. After that I went to see a house I used to live in and I also went to an old settlement that was used a century ago in the summer for cattle and live-stock. At around 9:30 I got back home, went to sleep and as soon as I woke up I left again but this time I went over to a friend's house and spent the day and night there. I got back home this morning at 9.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During all of this time my husband never called to ask me where I was or how I was doing. According to my mother-in-law he was really angry with me because of my behaviour. Early this afternoon I went to pick the kids up and got home this evening and still he isn't talking to me but at least I feel rested and being away from my family for 2 days has restored a lot of energy in me and I feel so much more at peace with myself. In a few days a friend is going to stop by to try to talk some sense into him and this friend is probably the only person who is capable of doing just that and I just have to have faith that he is going to be able to help us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For a long period of time I've felt like I've been stuck in a prison with no way of getting out of it and I desperatly needed a few hours to myself and now I'm calm and relaxed. And I now know that my husband will never change. He will never make an effort to take care of his children a few more hours now and then in order for me to get a chance to relax and unwind.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-5871610835296577918?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/5871610835296577918/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=5871610835296577918' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/5871610835296577918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/5871610835296577918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2007/07/couldnt-take-it-anymore.html' title='Couldn&apos;t take it anymore'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i111.photobucket.com/albums/n160/aurian-seven/bloggbilder/th_DSC005221.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-1142183722549512126</id><published>2007-06-15T13:22:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-09-23T19:43:05.249+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='son'/><title type='text'>The summer is here!</title><content type='html'>Tell me about it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's so frellin' hot that you can hardly walk outside the house! It's just insane!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And here we are - working on a third bedroom so that Erik can have a bedroom of his own. :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-1142183722549512126?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/1142183722549512126/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=1142183722549512126' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/1142183722549512126'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/1142183722549512126'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2007/06/summer-is-here.html' title='The summer is here!'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-2498557695476232458</id><published>2007-05-30T21:46:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-09-23T19:43:26.454+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='job'/><title type='text'>The last day</title><content type='html'>Today was the last day I worked at this place. What I'm going to miss are the children and also knowing that I have a job to go to in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My kids and I are going to have the whole summer to ourselves.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-2498557695476232458?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/2498557695476232458/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=2498557695476232458' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/2498557695476232458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/2498557695476232458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2007/09/last-day.html' title='The last day'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-3062466299561799526</id><published>2007-05-15T22:09:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-09-23T19:43:49.842+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='job'/><title type='text'>About this job</title><content type='html'>I've come to learn realize that I do enjoy working with children of this age. I tried it when I was younger but I hated every minute of the two weeks I had to go to that job but it could also have something to do with the fact that my co-workers made it very clear that they didn't want me there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That can make a huge impact on a 21-year old.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-3062466299561799526?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/3062466299561799526/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=3062466299561799526' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/3062466299561799526'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/3062466299561799526'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2007/04/about-this-job.html' title='About this job'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-156618444889816514</id><published>2007-04-29T17:22:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-09-23T19:43:44.346+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='job'/><title type='text'>One more month</title><content type='html'>I'm getting closer and closer to the end of this job and I have no idea if they are going to let me stay or not. In all honesty I don't think I would want to stay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only a few days before my birthday we were supposed to have this meeting and it turned out that my boss and a co-worker sat there critiqued me for a couple of hours. Some of it I can honestly say where legit but they wouldn't even let me defend myself when it came to the things I felt was wrong and things that were taken out of proportion...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That Friday I went home and I cried for 2½ days straight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-156618444889816514?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/156618444889816514/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=156618444889816514' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/156618444889816514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/156618444889816514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2007/09/one-more-month.html' title='One more month'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-6156743196862916931</id><published>2007-04-06T21:01:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2008-05-15T20:45:11.394+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Not the first time</title><content type='html'>It's not the first time he's like this. My husband always behave like this if things doesn't turn out the way he expected them to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He expects everyone to know exactly what it is he wants without having to say it out loud. We've been to a counsellor to try to get him to explain to us all why he thinks it's okay to walk away from his responsibilities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is a person who only thinks about himself. We usually visit his dad every two weeks and from the time he wakes up in the morning until the time when I think we have to leave he is either at his computer or watching TV.. when I then tell him to get ready he tells me that he's going to the gym before we can leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It then takes an hour or so for him to even leave the house and the workout takes about 2 hours.. we usually leave the house around 4 pm and it's a 30 minute drive to his dad.He never helps out with everything that needs to be done in the house: cooking, dishes, laundry, take care of the children. Somehow he thinks that's my responsibility and if I tell him to actually help out a little he then starts acting like a two-year-old again! This is something that happens on a regular basis and it's driving me insane!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few months ago my father called to tell me that he was coming over in a few days and I immediately started to clean the house that morning he was coming over. I saw that he picked up the trash but I never saw him come back inside..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went out in the hallway to take a look and saw that he had taken his gym-bag with him and left for the gym leaving me to take care of the house, preparing for dinner and left me in charge of both kids 2 hours before my dad was supposed to get here. I tried calling him but he didn't answer so I called a friend of his and told him what was going on so this friend went over to the gym and told him to come home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few minutes later I got a text message from my husband telling me that he wasn't coming home until he was done working out! I simply sent him a message back that if he did that he could just come home to sign the divorce papers!He came home 30 minutes later and he was furious! Like I said.. this happens now and then and and in between these neanderthal behaviours of his he act more his age but he still has a problem with actually having to do things for someone but himself but I actually blame his mom for that.. and that's another long story but I'll just save that one for later..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-6156743196862916931?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/6156743196862916931/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=6156743196862916931' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/6156743196862916931'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/6156743196862916931'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2007/04/not-first-time.html' title='Not the first time'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-3920434208874445968</id><published>2007-04-05T20:14:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-09-23T19:44:26.380+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='daughter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='son'/><title type='text'>Grumpy old men.</title><content type='html'>This is about my "wonderful" husband.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I grabbed a cup at his desk a few days ago and as always it was full of coffee so I basically drenched the mouse with coffee and it's now dead! Hubby not very happy about that but he got his old mouse out and he's now using it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That morning he went for a 1½ hour walk and later he went to the gym for more than 2 hours while I had to bake cookies and two pies and take care of the kids, lunch and get everything ready for that evening when we where going to some friends for dinner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When my husband gets grumpy he can stay like that for days and in the process the kids will be irritated and basically we're all snapping at each other for a week or so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he got home from the gym he expected that I would have had everything done by then but I still had to take a shower and so did Emma and I still had to get all of Emma's things ready before we had to go but there was no way he was going to help me get ready. He simply declared that he was not going to come with us, took off his shoes and sat down by his computer and started sulking like a two year old!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally managed to get everything in the car and the kids where ready to go but he refused to come with us. I simply lost it and told him that Sarah and I had been trying to find a weekend to get together and if it had not been for the fact that her husband wanted to see him I would go by myself. I told him to act his age and quit that childish behavior and get his shoes on and get in the car!A few minutes later while I was getting the kids in the car he got in himself but he didn't even look at me and it was completely quiet the whole drive over to our friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mother-in-law called a few days ago to ask if we where going to be at home today and they are going to be here soon. I had to clean the entire house myself because my husband is still acting like an immature child and he's sitting either by his computer or in the livingroom - sulking!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-3920434208874445968?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/3920434208874445968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=3920434208874445968' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/3920434208874445968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/3920434208874445968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2007/04/grumpy-old-men.html' title='Grumpy old men.'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-5850714729953054437</id><published>2007-03-25T22:24:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2008-05-15T20:51:10.036+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>and I'm 31</title><content type='html'>A year ago I went through the worst crisis ever! I had a hard time accepting that I was going to turn 30 but today I turn 31 and I'm fine with it now. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Say happy birthday! :-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-5850714729953054437?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/5850714729953054437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=5850714729953054437' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/5850714729953054437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/5850714729953054437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2007/03/and-im-31.html' title='and I&apos;m 31'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-4734883000330703946</id><published>2007-03-25T18:15:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-12-01T18:36:17.848+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blogthings'/><title type='text'>What does my birth date mean?</title><content type='html'>&lt;table width=350 align=center border=0 cellspacing=0 cellpadding=2&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#E6E6FA" align=center&gt;&lt;font face="Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif" style='color:black; font-size: 14pt;'&gt;&lt;b&gt;Your Birthdate: March 25&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#F2F2FB"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.blogthings.com/whatdoesyourbirthdatemeanquiz/birthday.jpg" height="100" width="100"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;font color="#000000"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You excel at anything difficult or high tech. &lt;br /&gt;In other words, you're a total (brilliant) geek.&lt;br /&gt;It's difficult for you to find people worth spending time with.&lt;br /&gt;Which is probably why you'll take over the world with your evil robots!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your strength: Your unfailing logic&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your weakness: Loving machines more than people&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your power color: Tan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your power symbol: Pi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your power month: July&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com/whatdoesyourbirthdatemeanquiz/"&gt;What Does Your Birth Date Mean?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-4734883000330703946?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/4734883000330703946/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=4734883000330703946' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/4734883000330703946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/4734883000330703946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2007/12/what-does-my-birth-date-mean.html' title='What does my birth date mean?'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-3430725388125628118</id><published>2007-03-01T22:30:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-09-23T19:44:48.555+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='eating disorder'/><title type='text'>Eating disorder</title><content type='html'>I have an eating disorder called B.E.D. (Binge Eating Disorder) and it's like living with Bulimia but without throwing up after binging.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was 15 my (step)father died and without anyone to turn to for help and no one to talk to I turned to one thing: food, snacks, candy &amp;amp; ice cream. Eating these things were a pleasure and I felt good. Well.. I didnt feel that good after binging. ´&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've had these "attacks" where I tried to starve myself but I only ended up in another binging spree again. Ive gained a lot of weight over the years but I don´t blame anyone for my problem. I don´t blame my weight on my father death or on society.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a way I'm glad I finally got a diagnosis on my problem because now I know why I behave the way I do and I know what´s wrong with me. When I go through a day when my cravings are really bad I can´t stop eating. If I don´t have anything in the house to eat I behave like a trapped lion, walking around restlessly and I´m very irritated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like an addict really when this is going on all I can think of is my next "fix".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is something I will have to live with for the rest of my life. The trick is to learn how to live with it without letting my disorder take control of my entire life. I´ve come a long way and it´s been weeks since my last "attack" and now that I´m finally free from my heelspur I can go for walks and my husband is really helping me out when it comes to staying on a diet and he´s bugging me all day to drink more water!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a long way to go but now I have a network of people around me who is there for me when I need someone to talk to and my husband is there for me to help me the days when I feel low and hopefully I will finally be free from this one day?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-3430725388125628118?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/3430725388125628118/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=3430725388125628118' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/3430725388125628118'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/3430725388125628118'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2007/03/eating-disorder.html' title='Eating disorder'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-5669550466596449827</id><published>2007-02-08T19:44:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-09-23T19:45:07.269+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='job'/><title type='text'>Fast</title><content type='html'>It’s strange how things just work out. I’ve never really wanted to work at a daycare center but I applied for jobs like that anyway and I got a call back for an interview. I got there and I met the teachers working at this place and I stayed there for 1½ hours and I felt really good about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have this thing about waiting for that phone call telling me if I got the job or not but it came and I got the job! It’s only until the end of May but it’s a job!!! And I start on Monday! :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-5669550466596449827?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/5669550466596449827/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=5669550466596449827' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/5669550466596449827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/5669550466596449827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2007/02/fast.html' title='Fast'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-8864799505812736662</id><published>2007-02-04T06:52:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-09-23T19:45:16.835+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='son'/><title type='text'>My son</title><content type='html'>A lot has happend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last Saturday my son Erik started crying and it took a while to get him to tell us what was wrong - he had a headache. I thought it was strange that a 6-year old would have a headache like this so we called our hospital and talked to this nurse but she didn't think that he needed to see a doctor. Yesterday he woke up with an even worse headache and he spent most of yesterday in his room sleeping and once again we called someone but no.. no need to see a doctor and I was feeling very frustrated!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning when he woke up he felt fine so I sent him to school and I went to and interview for a job but when I was done my husband called to tell me that Erik was now at home with him - with a headache again. We couldn't turn on the lights because that made it worse and as soon as we even tried to talk to him in a normal voice he started crying because his head was hurting really bad and this time I wouldn't back down and we finally got an appointment to see a nurse. It took more than 2 hours for 3 different people to take a look at him and also there where a lot of tests done until we finally got to go home. At one point they thought it could be meningitis but thankfully they couldn't find any more of the symptoms for that but Erik is now on penicillin but no one still knows why he is having these headaches.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-8864799505812736662?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/8864799505812736662/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=8864799505812736662' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/8864799505812736662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/8864799505812736662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2007/02/my-son.html' title='My son'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-242783147513314172</id><published>2007-01-05T22:24:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-09-23T19:45:45.194+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='scifi'/><title type='text'>A new year</title><content type='html'>and another new years resolution.. I wonder for how long I will be able to keep this one..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But anyway.. I told myself that it was time to start exercising and to eat right and to loose some weight.. I’m not comfortable enough at the moment to tell you my weight but I have lost 1.5 kilo since the first day of this year and I’ve been doing a lot of exercise!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What would life be without gorgeous men to look at while exercising? Since I have two small children there is no way that I’ll be able to go to the gym so I bought an Orbitrek for myself this past Christmas and I enjoy watching Stargate SG-1, Stargate Atlantis and Farscape while sweating like you wouldn’t believe.. *S*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-242783147513314172?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/242783147513314172/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=242783147513314172' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/242783147513314172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/242783147513314172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2007/01/new-year.html' title='A new year'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-116662471531280588</id><published>2006-12-20T15:22:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-09-23T19:45:38.304+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='job'/><title type='text'>It's been a while</title><content type='html'>I haven't been around that much lately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About 2 months ago I got a job as a 5th grade teacher and I've loved every minute of my job. Unfortunally they had to let me go since there was another teacher that had been working longer than me and she needed a new class to work with so today was my last day of work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got home today after having said goodbye to my kids and I've been crying a lot because I truly loved my job and I loved this class that unfortunally have been labeled "difficult" but they are such a great group of kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will forever remember these 18 children and they have changed me in more ways than they will ever know and I will never forget them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-116662471531280588?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/116662471531280588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=116662471531280588' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/116662471531280588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/116662471531280588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2006/12/its-been-while.html' title='It&apos;s been a while'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-2090150314948446432</id><published>2006-12-05T01:42:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-09-08T15:30:36.749+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poem'/><title type='text'>There is a secret</title><content type='html'>The secret of happiness is simple:&lt;br /&gt;be loving, giving, caring.&lt;br /&gt;Why, then, are so many unhappy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because they are afraid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~proverb~&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-2090150314948446432?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/2090150314948446432/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=2090150314948446432' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/2090150314948446432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/2090150314948446432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2006/12/there-is-secret.html' title='There is a secret'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-5990722004520096433</id><published>2006-11-22T20:32:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-09-23T19:46:00.622+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='son'/><title type='text'>Really disappointed</title><content type='html'>Only two people showed up today for my son's 6th birthday. I could tell he was really dissapointed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everytime he thought he heard a car he ran to the window to see if anyone had arrived but no one did. My heart was breaking over and over for my little boy who just wanted someone to show up on his birthday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-5990722004520096433?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/5990722004520096433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=5990722004520096433' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/5990722004520096433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/5990722004520096433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2006/11/really-disappointed.html' title='Really disappointed'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-3520182065416478408</id><published>2006-11-03T08:03:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-09-08T15:29:59.266+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='daughter'/><title type='text'>My baby girl</title><content type='html'>Isn't a baby anymore! Today is her second birthday!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy birthday my beautiful little girl! I love you so much!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-3520182065416478408?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/3520182065416478408/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=3520182065416478408' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/3520182065416478408'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/3520182065416478408'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2006/11/my-baby-girl.html' title='My baby girl'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-6030375181013738135</id><published>2006-10-16T12:24:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-09-23T19:46:18.206+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='job'/><title type='text'>I got a job today!</title><content type='html'>It's only for 2 weeks but the teacher that usually have this class is burnt out and she is going to be at home for another 2 weeks and if she can't come back to work after that I'll get even more weeks and month to work at this school!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a few hours I have to go to that school to my first parent - teacher meeting but thankfully I'm not the one that organized it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-6030375181013738135?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/6030375181013738135/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=6030375181013738135' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/6030375181013738135'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/6030375181013738135'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2007/10/i-got-job-today.html' title='I got a job today!'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-115989423529613500</id><published>2006-10-03T18:48:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-09-23T19:46:45.426+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='job'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>It's been a long day.</title><content type='html'>My hands are shaking and I can hardly type.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been a long day. When I got to work this morning they asked if I could stay an hour longer and I thought I could make it through 3 hours. Then I was asked to stay until 2 - another 3 hours and I said okay.In the end I figured it was a good choice to work for 6 hours today because it kept me from thinking about my mom all the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've had my cell phone with me hoping, praying that no one would call since I figured if anyone called before 6pm then there would be only bad news. At 5 pm my phone rang but it was a friend of mine. Then in the middle of that conversation someone else called but it was only my aunt. We talked for an hour and 5 minutes after I got off the phone with my aunt my stepfather called.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I answered the phone I thought something bad had happend because his voice where so different but the surgery was a success and my mom is now awake and she's on analgesic. She is going to be out of intensive care by tomorrow and I'll see if it's possible to go and see her on Thursday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know she want to see the kids but I don't think it's time for that right now but I'll take them to see her next week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still shaking and I feel that I need to sit down and just break down into tears. I've forced myself to not cry but I definitly need to do that now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-115989423529613500?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/115989423529613500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=115989423529613500' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/115989423529613500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/115989423529613500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2006/10/its-been-long-day.html' title='It&apos;s been a long day.'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-115936060917811663</id><published>2006-09-27T14:35:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-09-23T19:50:17.413+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='job'/><title type='text'>I've had a great day! :D</title><content type='html'>I had a home economics class today and it happend to be the same class that I worked with last week and they all came running up to me and they first said that they where so happy to see me and then they asked was that if I could be the teacher to fill in when their ordinary teacher had to go to the hospital for surgery. I simply told them that it was not up to me to decide on which teacher they would get but if I was asked to work with them I'd love to work with this class for two weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Five minutes later their teacher showed up and asked if I was doing something during week 46 &amp;amp; 47 because she needed someone to fill in for her and she had told her boss that she wanted me and no one else - ME! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the best thing is that she is going to leave all the planning of the classes to me and everything and I feel so good about this!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-115936060917811663?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/115936060917811663/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=115936060917811663' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/115936060917811663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/115936060917811663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2006/09/ive-had-great-day-d.html' title='I&apos;ve had a great day! :D'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-115822783746634435</id><published>2006-09-14T11:55:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-09-23T19:50:46.530+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='job'/><title type='text'>My very first time</title><content type='html'>Today was the very first time I worked as a teacher in high school and it went great!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only thing I didn't like was that I didn't have any time to prepare for class so I didn't know what they where working on and how the teacher usually works but I'm now at home preparing for the next two classes of the day. One test (no preparation for me) and then I have physics (had biologi this morning) and now I've prepared a little something to demonstrate sound!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have 4 classes tomorrow too but one is a test and the second on is a math class but all they have to do then is to go over the misstakes they did the day before (that's the test I'm going to give them today) and work on what they did wrong. And I also have two more classes in physics.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-115822783746634435?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/115822783746634435/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=115822783746634435' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/115822783746634435'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/115822783746634435'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2006/09/my-very-first-time.html' title='My very first time'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-115821212785062783</id><published>2006-09-14T07:20:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-09-23T19:51:03.096+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='job'/><title type='text'>Changes</title><content type='html'>Should I be nervous about teaching at a high school today? Definitely yes! :D&lt;br /&gt;I got my degree in teaching children from when they start preschool at the age of one until they finish sixth grade but I’ve never worked with teens in high school before but thankfully their teacher has organized everything for me so all I have to do is to show up and give them their assignments. It can’t be that bad – hopefully! :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Both of my children started preschool/school at different places than befors and my son is now in kindergarten and he loves it! He has grown so much in the last couple of weeks. He has a lot of old friends from preschool with him but I’ve seen a lot of changes in which kids he is playing with. I never had any problems with dropping him off at his preschool but the first time I dropped my son of at kindergarten I stayed and watch him walk over to the school and it hit me – my son is really growing up a lot faster than I ever could imagine. I felt like a proud mom while watching my boy walk away to meet his friends. I also felt a little bit sad as well because soon enough he will not need me to be there all the time for him. The change is coming and change is a good thing… most of the time. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My daughter has been moved to a new preschool this semester. So instead of a ten minute drive to her preschool I now have a ten minute walk to drop her off. At her last preschool she was very shy and she didn’t do much more than to sit in a corner reading a book or walking around. I always felt the old preschool was better with a better playground outside for the children but then she moved. At this new preschool she already know two of her teachers since they where also her brothers teachers for three years. There has been a dramatic change in her and she is so much more active at this new place. I didn’t really expect that – I can’t actually say why that is but she seems to be a lot happier now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-115821212785062783?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/115821212785062783/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=115821212785062783' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/115821212785062783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/115821212785062783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2006/09/changes.html' title='Changes'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-8935618800353407825</id><published>2006-09-13T08:42:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2008-05-15T20:53:29.145+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>scared</title><content type='html'>Yesterday I thought that my leg felt "weird" and by the evening it started to ache.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few years ago I had a blod clot in my right calf and this weird sensation I'm experince is placed in the same place as that time. My health centre was closed so at 9:45 pm I had to go to the next town to a hospital there and to that health centre. I spent an hour in a room and this doctor probed my leg and she decided to send me to out closest city and to the ER.I got there around midnight and yet again I had a doctor that examined my leg, had my second EKG, more blood tests and examinations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This doctor also thought that I might have a new blood clot but maybe not as big as the first one which also travelled to both of my lungs and I almost died that time. They wanted to give me an injection but I asked to do it myself and they let me do that.. I've taken these injections for months both after my first blood clot and also when I was pregnant with Emma..But instead of keeping me at the hospital so that I could have more tests done today they sent me home at 2 am in a cab and it's a 60 kilometer drive home!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thankfully you only pay about 5 US dollars if a hospital sends for a cab like this because otherwise we would have payed over 75 dollars for that trip... We've kept Emma home from daycare today since I don't know when I'm supposed to go back to the hospital but Erik is at school but thankfully I got in touch with his best friend's mom and she is going to pick him up today and he can stay with them until I get back home - whenever that will be...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-8935618800353407825?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/8935618800353407825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=8935618800353407825' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/8935618800353407825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/8935618800353407825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2007/09/scared.html' title='scared'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-115799865630902770</id><published>2006-09-11T20:02:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-09-08T15:27:20.282+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poem'/><title type='text'>Never forget September 11, 2001</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Her hair was up in a ponytail&lt;br /&gt;Her favourite dress tied with a bow.&lt;br /&gt;Today was Daddy's Day at school,&lt;br /&gt;And she couldn't wait to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But her Mommy tried to tell her,&lt;br /&gt;That she probably should stay home.&lt;br /&gt;Why the kids might not understand,&lt;br /&gt;If she went to school alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But she was not afraid;&lt;br /&gt;She knew just what to say.&lt;br /&gt;What to tell her classmates&lt;br /&gt;Of why he wasn't there today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But still her mother worried,&lt;br /&gt;For her to face this day alone.&lt;br /&gt;And that was why once again,&lt;br /&gt;She tried to keep her daughter home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the little girl went to school,&lt;br /&gt;Eager to tell them all.&lt;br /&gt;About a dad she never sees&lt;br /&gt;A dad who never calls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were daddies along the wall in back,&lt;br /&gt;For everyone to meet.&lt;br /&gt;Children squirming impatiently,&lt;br /&gt;Anxious in their seats.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One by one the teacher called,&lt;br /&gt;A student from the class.&lt;br /&gt;To introduce their daddy,&lt;br /&gt;As seconds slowly passed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At last the teacher called her name,&lt;br /&gt;Every child turned to stare.&lt;br /&gt;Each of them was searching,&lt;br /&gt;For a man who wasn't there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Where's her daddy at?"&lt;br /&gt;She heard a boy call out.&lt;br /&gt;"She probably doesn't have one,"&lt;br /&gt;Another student dared to shout.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And from somewhere near the back,&lt;br /&gt;She heard a mummy say,&lt;br /&gt;"Looks like another deadbeat dad,&lt;br /&gt;Too busy to waste his day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The words did not offend her,&lt;br /&gt;As she smiled up at her Mom.&lt;br /&gt;And looked back at her teacher,&lt;br /&gt;Who told her to go on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And with hands behind her back,&lt;br /&gt;Slowly she began to speak.&lt;br /&gt;And out from the mouth of a child,&lt;br /&gt;Came words incredibly unique.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"My Daddy couldn't be here,&lt;br /&gt;Because he lives so far away.&lt;br /&gt;But I know he wishes he could be,&lt;br /&gt;Since this is such a special day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And though you cannot meet him,&lt;br /&gt;I wanted you to know.&lt;br /&gt;All about my daddy,&lt;br /&gt;And how much he loves me so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He loved to tell me stories&lt;br /&gt;He taught me to ride my bike.&lt;br /&gt;He surprised me with pink roses,&lt;br /&gt;And taught me to fly a kite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We used to share fudge sundaes,&lt;br /&gt;And ice cream in a cone.&lt;br /&gt;And though you cannot see him,&lt;br /&gt;I'm not standing here alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Cause my daddy's always with me,&lt;br /&gt;Even though we are apart&lt;br /&gt;I know because he told me,&lt;br /&gt;He'll forever be in my heart"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With that, her little hand reached up,&lt;br /&gt;And lay across her chest.&lt;br /&gt;Feeling her own heartbeat,&lt;br /&gt;Beneath her favourite dress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And from somewhere in the crowd of dads,&lt;br /&gt;Her mother stood in tears.&lt;br /&gt;Proudly watching her daughter,&lt;br /&gt;Who was wise beyond her years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For she stood up for the love&lt;br /&gt;Of a man not in her life.&lt;br /&gt;Doing what was best for her,&lt;br /&gt;Doing what was right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And when she dropped her hand back down,&lt;br /&gt;Staring straight into the crowd.&lt;br /&gt;She finished with a voice so soft,&lt;br /&gt;But its message clear and loud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I love my daddy very much,&lt;br /&gt;He's my shining star.&lt;br /&gt;And if he could, he'd be here,&lt;br /&gt;But heaven's just too far.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see he was a fireman&lt;br /&gt;And died just this past year&lt;br /&gt;When airplanes hit the towers&lt;br /&gt;And taught Americans to fear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But sometimes when I close my eyes,&lt;br /&gt;It's like he never went away."&lt;br /&gt;And then she closed her eyes,&lt;br /&gt;And saw him there that day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And to her mother's amazement,&lt;br /&gt;She witnessed with surprise.&lt;br /&gt;A room full of daddies and children,&lt;br /&gt;All starting to close their eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who knows what they saw before them,&lt;br /&gt;Who knows what they felt inside.&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps for merely a second,&lt;br /&gt;They saw him at her side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I know you're with me Daddy,"&lt;br /&gt;To the silence she called out.&lt;br /&gt;And what happened next made believers,&lt;br /&gt;Of those once filled with doubt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not one in that room could explain it,&lt;br /&gt;For each of their eyes had been closed.&lt;br /&gt;But there on the desk beside her,&lt;br /&gt;Was a fragrant long-stemmed pink rose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And a child was blessed, if only for a moment,&lt;br /&gt;By the love of her shining bright star.&lt;br /&gt;And given the gift of believing,&lt;br /&gt;That heaven is never too far&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;author unknown&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;They say it takes a minute to find a special person,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;an hour to appreciate them,&lt;/div&gt;a day to love them,&lt;br /&gt;but then an entire life to forget them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take the time...to live and love.&lt;br /&gt;Until eternity. God bless. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-115799865630902770?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/115799865630902770/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=115799865630902770' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/115799865630902770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/115799865630902770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2006/09/never-forget-september-11-2001.html' title='Never forget September 11, 2001'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-115799769397594981</id><published>2006-09-11T20:00:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2008-05-15T20:54:03.659+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>What did you do that day..</title><content type='html'>I remember it like it was yesterday. I was driving home with my 10 month old son in the car when I heard about something that had happend in New York but I couldn't make any sense to what they where saying. It took me a long time to realize what they where talking about and as soon as I got home I sat down in front of the TV with my husband and a friend of ours and I was chocked. I couldn't take my eyes off the TV but after 5-6 hours I had to tell my husband to turn it off because I couldn't deal with the news and I needed time to think, to clear my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The world came to a halt and it was like time stood still. I cried for all the husbands and wives that had lost someone they loved, for the children for loosing a parent, for all the mothers &amp;amp; fathers &amp;amp; friends &amp;amp; families who would never see the ones they love again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was the day when the world lost it's innocence because it wasn't 'only' something that had happend to USA because the world was affected by this and it will never be the same for any of us again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-115799769397594981?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/115799769397594981/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=115799769397594981' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/115799769397594981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/115799769397594981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2006/09/what-did-you-do-that-day.html' title='What did you do that day..'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-115736284591958335</id><published>2006-09-04T11:33:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-09-23T19:49:52.649+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='job'/><title type='text'>OMG</title><content type='html'>I got a phone call today from a principle in a nearby city and they need a teacher in a nursery group with 8 children, age 1-3 years old, and 2 teachers and they want to see me on Wednesday!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is not the age of children I'm supposed to work with since I am a 1-6th grade teacher but it's a full time job for 3 months and I hope I'll get it. I need to - want to work and I don't want to be stuck at home anymore just waiting for something to do!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We’re in the process of changing nursery group for our daughter and she is now at a place a lot closer to our house and this job offer could not have come in a better time since now we really don’t need the car to drive the kids to and from school/nursery and I can take the car to work until we can find a cheap car to buy for me so I don’t have to take the mini-van everyday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I have to do now is to wait for the phone call from the person who is now working in this group and she is going to let me know when and where to meet her. I’m so nervous!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-115736284591958335?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/115736284591958335/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=115736284591958335' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/115736284591958335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/115736284591958335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2006/09/omg.html' title='OMG'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-115731001788999617</id><published>2006-09-03T20:36:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-09-23T19:49:20.407+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='photo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='daughter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='son'/><title type='text'>Dogs and horses - and lots of 'em!</title><content type='html'>I took the kids to see my mom and sister today. My husband was supposed to come with us - heck, it was his idea - but he caught a cold yesterday and he stayed at home instead. What is it about men - well, at least my husband - who act like they are dying once they get a cold? ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i111.photobucket.com/albums/n160/aurian-seven/family/328cedac.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Before going to the track we went to pick up my mom and after the initial chock of 4 happy dogs greeting you at the door my daughter took her time to cuddle with Bella. I guess that if it had been up to my daughter we would have to bring that dog home with us! My mom has a kennel and now and then when we stop by they have a bunch of puppies and they are so cute! I'm not getting a dog when my children are this young because it would not be fair to the dog because I don't have the time I need to take care of a dog right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i111.photobucket.com/albums/n160/aurian-seven/family/017cff68.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Anyway. My sister started in one race today (#2) and she actually won the race and 1200 SEK (1 USD = 7.1 SEK) which is pretty good for a days work! :) I saw the photo of her at the finishing line and she was pretty happy with this big victory gesture! :D She did great and this was her last time racing a pony and she is now moving on to bigger horses. What a great way to finish that part of her career racing small horses! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i111.photobucket.com/albums/n160/aurian-seven/family/c555a3ea.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;This is so typical of my sister.. it's her trying to hide her face.. actually - she did a pretty good job! Now let me introduce you to the horse Hampus and riding the horse is my son! The first time he rode today was when my sister took him and the horse for a walk. She was in charge of pony riding for kids after her race. Later on when we got back my sister asked me if I could take over because she had to go do something and I ended up doing her job for 45 minutes but she got paid for it! :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My son came back twice to ride the horse again. I'm really glad that my mom lives an hour away because otherwise my son would now be a permanent guest at the stable where my sister is working! ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-115731001788999617?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/115731001788999617/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=115731001788999617' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/115731001788999617'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/115731001788999617'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2006/09/dogs-and-horses-and-lots-of-em.html' title='Dogs and horses - and lots of &apos;em!'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i111.photobucket.com/albums/n160/aurian-seven/family/th_328cedac.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-115566882293290747</id><published>2006-08-15T21:01:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-09-23T19:49:05.563+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='photo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='MAJOR'/><title type='text'>Welcome to my corner</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://i73.photobucket.com/albums/i209/pernedlorien/familj/corner.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i73.photobucket.com/albums/i209/pernedlorien/familj/corner.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to IKEA today to buy some bookcases and we started moving furniture around and I felt that I had to get my workstation out of the hallway because I felt in the way out there whenever people tried to pass when I was working on my computer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now I have my own little corner in the livingroom and it's much better then where it used to be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-115566882293290747?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/115566882293290747/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=115566882293290747' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/115566882293290747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/115566882293290747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2006/08/welcome-to-my-corner.html' title='Welcome to my corner'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i73.photobucket.com/albums/i209/pernedlorien/familj/th_corner.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-115444837356635276</id><published>2006-08-01T18:04:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-09-23T19:48:46.665+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Life - the ultimate roller coaster ride</title><content type='html'>Another phone call and today it was from my mother. I got a text message from her yesterday that she wanted to know if we where going to be at home today because she needed to talk to me. When she called she told me that she is now waiting for an operation but it wasn’t on her toe. She went to the hospital a few days ago and there they saw that the main artery is completely blocked and they have to go in at the belly button and somehow replace the artery from there down to both her legs. This condition is also hereditary and me, my siblings and my kids should go and see a doctor. My mom has been calling relatives since she found out to see if anyone has even heard of this or had any problems themselves but so far no one has even heard of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She didn’t say anything about the risks of this operation but I’m scared to death. My younger sister is only 15 – exactly the same age I was when my stepfather (and my sister’s father) died. Now all we can do is to wait for her to get the time and date for the operation and hope for the best…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-115444837356635276?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/115444837356635276/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=115444837356635276' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/115444837356635276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/115444837356635276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2006/08/life-ultimate-roller-coaster-ride.html' title='Life - the ultimate roller coaster ride'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-115427321593042961</id><published>2006-07-30T17:24:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-09-23T19:48:34.580+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='photo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='daughter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Birthday party</title><content type='html'>My kids cousin turned 11 today and what do you know? When we woke up this morning we still didn't have a birthday present for him or his younger brother - we couldn't go to that party since we where on holiday at the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we got the kids in the car and drove 25 minutes to the nearest mall and got some gifts for the boys and also clotes for our kids and went to the party.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i111.photobucket.com/albums/n160/aurian-seven/family/birthday/96171a6d.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i111.photobucket.com/albums/n160/aurian-seven/family/birthday/96171a6d.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Grandma and grandpa where at the party when we arrived and they took the opportunity to cuddle with two of their grandchildren. My son is on the right trying to escape from grandpa. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i111.photobucket.com/albums/n160/aurian-seven/family/birthday/c9200e1c.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i111.photobucket.com/albums/n160/aurian-seven/family/birthday/c9200e1c.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My daughter found her one year older cousin to help her with the swing. They both loved it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i111.photobucket.com/albums/n160/aurian-seven/family/birthday/b40cb19d.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i111.photobucket.com/albums/n160/aurian-seven/family/birthday/b40cb19d.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I was trying to get my daughter to pose for the camera but she had more interesting stuff to do - run around and play and trying to take a swim in a little pond but I was able to get her to sit still for aproximatly the 5 seconds it took for me to take this pic. I was trying to get more pics of my son but he disapeared somewhere and was not seen until it was time for us to go home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://i111.photobucket.com/albums/n160/aurian-seven/family/birthday/9863182e.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i111.photobucket.com/albums/n160/aurian-seven/family/birthday/9863182e.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It must have been a very busy day for this young girl...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-115427321593042961?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/115427321593042961/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=115427321593042961' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/115427321593042961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/115427321593042961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2006/07/birthday-party.html' title='Birthday party'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-115409020775584758</id><published>2006-07-28T14:12:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-09-23T19:48:25.341+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='photo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='son'/><title type='text'>I went for a walk today.</title><content type='html'>By now I was sick and tired of being cooped up in the house and I desperately felt like taking a walk but knowing I usually can go only 1 km before my heelspur tries to kill me I took both kids with me - this usually means that the walk will be cut short since my son isn't a fan of walks but this time he rode his bike.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the time I got to the first house by this road I realized that I didn’t feel any pain at all and I just kept on walking! &lt;a href="http://i111.photobucket.com/albums/n160/aurian-seven/family/walk/3629a7c6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i111.photobucket.com/albums/n160/aurian-seven/family/walk/3629a7c6.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought I should take you on a scenic tour of our walk:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;This is the perfect road to take walks! I love walking here and it's only 5 minutes from my house. This road is about 2½ km long and it's great road for my son to ride his bike because there are no cars here. Usually my daughter falls asleep while walking here but not today. :D&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://i111.photobucket.com/albums/n160/aurian-seven/family/walk/3629a7c6.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://i111.photobucket.com/albums/n160/aurian-seven/family/walk/7b260086.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i111.photobucket.com/albums/n160/aurian-seven/family/walk/7b260086.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I love taking photos like this. There where a lot of beautiful houses along the road but I don't think it's right to take pictures of other peoples houses but I don't mind taking pics of the odd barn or so.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://i111.photobucket.com/albums/n160/aurian-seven/family/walk/1cfc922f.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i111.photobucket.com/albums/n160/aurian-seven/family/walk/1cfc922f.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://i111.photobucket.com/albums/n160/aurian-seven/family/walk/1cfc922f.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I made the decision to take the long walk which meant taking a walk around the lake where we live and not just to the end of the road and back again. At one point there was no way my son could ride his bike and I had to struggle to get the stroller down this slope.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i111.photobucket.com/albums/n160/aurian-seven/family/walk/f3cdc2f1.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://i111.photobucket.com/albums/n160/aurian-seven/family/walk/f3cdc2f1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i111.photobucket.com/albums/n160/aurian-seven/family/walk/f3cdc2f1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/ href="http://i111.photobucket.com/albums/n160/aurian-seven/family/walk/c46a693f.jpg" &lt;a&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is something so peaceful about water and I couldn’t resist taking a pic of this. I’m actually standing by the road and on the bridge over this stream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i111.photobucket.com/albums/n160/aurian-seven/family/walk/c46a693f.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i111.photobucket.com/albums/n160/aurian-seven/family/walk/7cff804d.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/ href="http://i111.photobucket.com/albums/n160/aurian-seven/family/walk/eff757f8.jpg" &lt;a&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are parts of an old bridge not far from our house. In another life I would have become an archeologist..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i111.photobucket.com/albums/n160/aurian-seven/family/walk/7cff804d.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i111.photobucket.com/albums/n160/aurian-seven/family/walk/7cff804d.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;After a 1½ hour or so walk I can finally see my house.. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i111.photobucket.com/albums/n160/aurian-seven/family/walk/eff757f8.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://i111.photobucket.com/albums/n160/aurian-seven/family/walk/7cff804d.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://i111.photobucket.com/albums/n160/aurian-seven/family/walk/7cff804d.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;We're finally at home - 10 km later. All we had to do now was to sit down and have lunch - perfect timing! :D&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-115409020775584758?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/115409020775584758/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=115409020775584758' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/115409020775584758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/115409020775584758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2006/07/i-went-for-walk-today.html' title='I went for a walk today.'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-115404038306551063</id><published>2006-07-28T00:24:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-09-23T19:47:50.112+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='photo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='son'/><title type='text'>It's still very hot!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://i111.photobucket.com/albums/n160/aurian-seven/family/947bc2b5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i111.photobucket.com/albums/n160/aurian-seven/family/947bc2b5.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The heat wave is continuing and all I can do is to stay inside the house. After lunch today we went to the beach and there was not a single person there but us and it was great! The kids could run around and play in the water and we had a great time. The water was just perfect – 25°C and I could have stayed in the water forever!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not 10 minutes after we got back home the phone rang and it was my father-in-law who wanted to know if we where going to be at home today and he asked if they could show up in a few minutes. This was when both my husband and I started to panic since we know it’s a 25 minute drive for them to get here and it looked like a bomb had gone off in our house. My back has been hurting like you wouldn’t believe for the past two or three days and I haven’t been able to take care of the house work and my husband has been too busy trying to keep the kids from dying in this heat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took us 15 minutes to get the dishes done, get all the stuff away from every room but our bedroom and we actually managed to get the floors done as well! *this is where I give myself a pat on the back for a job well done* :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-115404038306551063?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/115404038306551063/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=115404038306551063' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/115404038306551063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/115404038306551063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2006/07/its-still-very-hot.html' title='It&apos;s still very hot!'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i111.photobucket.com/albums/n160/aurian-seven/family/th_947bc2b5.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-3270968540979178017</id><published>2006-07-26T03:38:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-09-08T15:25:14.930+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='MAJOR'/><title type='text'>a conversation</title><content type='html'>Part of my online conversation with Jedi after the phone call.. _________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seven: what's the time difference to where you live and Virginia - if there is one?&lt;br /&gt;Jedi: not sure....let me look&lt;br /&gt;Jedi: We are in the same time zone.....why??&lt;br /&gt;Seven: L-B (what's her name?) just wrote something in one of my threads.. lol&lt;br /&gt;Jedi: Oh Val&lt;br /&gt;Seven: She wanted to know the time difference in case she wanted to call in the middle of the night as well...&lt;br /&gt;Jedi: ROTFLMAO!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;Seven: I actually gave her part of my number! LOL 01146 +"123" XXXXX&lt;br /&gt;Jedi: Why only part of it??&lt;br /&gt;Seven: Are you guys going to try to kill me here? I don't want to spend more nights saying nothing but 'oh my gawd' LMAO&lt;br /&gt;Jedi: Now why would we want to do that to you Seven&lt;br /&gt;Jedi: Why not&lt;br /&gt;Seven: Because I seriously doubt she would even concider calling.. well.. I thought that about you too but apparently I was wrong!&lt;br /&gt;Jedi: Never underestamate us MAJOR's´&lt;br /&gt;Seven: I've come to realize that..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-3270968540979178017?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/3270968540979178017/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=3270968540979178017' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/3270968540979178017'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/3270968540979178017'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2006/07/conversation.html' title='a conversation'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-115387302198413142</id><published>2006-07-26T02:14:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-09-23T19:47:30.639+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='MAJOR'/><title type='text'>The phone rang</title><content type='html'>The last thing you'd expect is a phone call at 2 am and when you pick up the phone you just hear 'guess who'? It didn't take me long to figure out who it was that called. I know she's a bit loopy (sorry Jedi) but I actually didn't think she would call in the middle of the night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was fun to hear her voice and it was the first time in ages I was able to speak english even though I mostly just said 'Oh my gawd' the entire call.. :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-115387302198413142?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/115387302198413142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=115387302198413142' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/115387302198413142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/115387302198413142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2006/07/phone-rang.html' title='The phone rang'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-4006055943039047757</id><published>2006-07-25T20:48:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-09-23T19:47:18.931+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='daughter'/><title type='text'>Going to bed</title><content type='html'>Emma was doing her best tonight to not go to sleep. I put her down into her bed (not a crib - she just climbs out of that and falls to the floor) and she got out. When she saw that I was looking at her she froze - like I wouldn't see her if she stood completely still. She repeated this for 6-8 times tonight..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-4006055943039047757?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/4006055943039047757/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=4006055943039047757' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/4006055943039047757'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/4006055943039047757'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2006/07/going-to-bed.html' title='Going to bed'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-115384198216095908</id><published>2006-07-25T17:31:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-09-23T19:47:06.553+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='photo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='daughter'/><title type='text'>My daughter</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://i111.photobucket.com/albums/n160/aurian-seven/blog/e0d510a6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i111.photobucket.com/albums/n160/aurian-seven/blog/e0d510a6.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Leave baby-girl unattended for three minutes and this is what you’ll get! I can see my pillow, both her clothes and clothes belonging to her older brother and she also went to the cupboard to get a bag of baby formula which she opened and poured half of the bag onto the floor..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i111.photobucket.com/albums/n160/aurian-seven/blog/328bbf8e.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i111.photobucket.com/albums/n160/aurian-seven/blog/328bbf8e.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She had formula all over her body and after cleaning up in the living room I had to&lt;br /&gt;get started on getting&lt;br /&gt;her clean as well..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You just got to love them!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-115384198216095908?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/115384198216095908/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=115384198216095908' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/115384198216095908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/115384198216095908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2006/07/my-daughter.html' title='My daughter'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i111.photobucket.com/albums/n160/aurian-seven/blog/th_e0d510a6.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-115382143662631832</id><published>2006-07-25T11:53:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-09-23T19:51:27.417+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='photo'/><title type='text'>What if...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://i111.photobucket.com/albums/n160/aurian-seven/blog/bada.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i111.photobucket.com/albums/n160/aurian-seven/blog/bada.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I got a phone call yesterday and it was from a childhood friend. When I was 8 my family built a house and next door was a family with 4 kids – 2 of them where the same age as me and my brother. We lived next door to each other for 12 years and during that time I had a crush on the boy in that family and we where boyfriend/girlfriend on and off over all these years. His little sister was in love with my brother but my brother didn’t even know she was alive – basically. Me and this girl used to spend hours a day playing together, doing each others hair and we’ve kept in touch even though we both moved and we now have families of our own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But yesterday something happened that I don’t think we could ever imagine as children – the three of us (me, my friend and her brother) got together and all of our 5 children played together and it was so much fun getting together and I felt like 15 again. I couldn’t help it but I stood there and wonder what it would have been like if this boy and I had not split up when we did and what would have happened if we had stayed together? I love my life and my family, don’t get me wrong but sometime I can't help to think ‘what if’..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-115382143662631832?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/115382143662631832/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=115382143662631832' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/115382143662631832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/115382143662631832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2006/07/what-if.html' title='What if...'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i111.photobucket.com/albums/n160/aurian-seven/blog/th_bada.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-115381148989114886</id><published>2006-07-25T09:03:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-09-08T15:19:53.909+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='photo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='daughter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='son'/><title type='text'>Pic time! :D</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://i111.photobucket.com/albums/n160/aurian-seven/blog/ca4168fc.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i111.photobucket.com/albums/n160/aurian-seven/blog/ca4168fc.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bathtime! Erik and Emma are taking baths outside before going to bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;a href="http://i111.photobucket.com/albums/n160/aurian-seven/blog/58add364.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i111.photobucket.com/albums/n160/aurian-seven/blog/58add364.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is me and my daughter Emma (on the left) and the baby is the daughter of a childhood friend that I went to see yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i111.photobucket.com/albums/n160/aurian-seven/blog/d273900c.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i111.photobucket.com/albums/n160/aurian-seven/blog/d273900c.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry about the dark pic but let me introduce you all to my sister! She's the best sister you can ever imagine and when my kids are in their teens I want them to be like her! :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i111.photobucket.com/albums/n160/aurian-seven/blog/00745822.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i111.photobucket.com/albums/n160/aurian-seven/blog/00745822.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i111.photobucket.com/albums/n160/aurian-seven/blog/00745822.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My daugher Emma found somewhere to cuddle when she was tired. Emma used to follow her aunt around the house when she was visiting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-115381148989114886?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/115381148989114886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=115381148989114886' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/115381148989114886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/115381148989114886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2006/07/pic-time-d.html' title='Pic time! :D'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i111.photobucket.com/albums/n160/aurian-seven/blog/th_ca4168fc.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-115372498849602132</id><published>2006-07-24T09:00:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-09-23T19:51:39.906+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='daughter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='son'/><title type='text'>*gaah*</title><content type='html'>Monday morning and I woke up with a massive headache!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kids did let me sleep 'til 8 so I'm not complaining about that but does everyone has to go and sit in front of the TV as soon as they've had breakfast? That leaves me with taking care of the dishes, cleaning up in the kitchen, prepping for lunch/dinner and taking care of everything else that needs to be attended to..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But hey - I can play this game too! I am sitting here by my computer aren't I? :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it's Monday and you know all these plans you've made: 'on Monday I'll start exercising, get going on all those little things that are just waiting for me to get them done and why not change my entire life'.. yeah right. Who am I kidding? ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But as for now I am going to take care of the dishes and take care of the kitchen and after that I am actually going for a walk but only as a mean to get out of the house and for some alone time - when was that last time I actually was all by myself if only to think and do nothing? I can't even remember a time like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, chicken into the oven and timer set for two hours and I'm off!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take care now!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-115372498849602132?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/115372498849602132/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=115372498849602132' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/115372498849602132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/115372498849602132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2006/07/gaah.html' title='*gaah*'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-9025976504940468460</id><published>2006-07-20T21:28:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-09-23T19:52:24.966+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='scifi'/><title type='text'>only if you like Stargate :D</title><content type='html'>Update on my mom: she's doing a little better. I'm not going to tell what happend with her toe today.. just trust me when I say she is doing a little better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And something else! This is so exciting! I got myself a new toy. It's a SonyEricsson k801i CyberShot (cell phone) and keeping with the tradition set by my husband whom is calling his SonyEricson w810i 'Sam' (Stargate SG-1 "Samantha Carter) I'm now calling my phone 'John' (Stargate Atlantis "John Shepard").&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next I'll have to figure out what to name my computer and the family car as well! Yeah I know it's silly but it's fun!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-9025976504940468460?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/9025976504940468460/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=9025976504940468460' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/9025976504940468460'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/9025976504940468460'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2006/07/only-if-you-like-stargate-d.html' title='only if you like Stargate :D'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-485597859564254833</id><published>2006-07-02T18:19:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-09-23T19:52:02.263+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>She's in pain!</title><content type='html'>My sister was online on MSN today and she wanted to come over and visit for a while and that was fine by me. I called our mom to talk to her about this but when she answered the phone I thought she was drunk! I could hardly tell it was my mother I was talking to!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About a month ago she got a blood clot in one of her toes and she was given morphine to ease the pain and her doctor told her they might have to remove her toe. It's now been almost 6 weeks since she first started to experience the pain in her toe and she's been to see serveral doctors and she has made a lot of trips to the emergency room but now they refuse to remove her toe and the pain is getting worse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Half of that toe is dead and she's in even more pain but all they do it so give her more and more morphine! The drug is making her dizzy and she feels very sick. On Friday she has yet another appointment with a doctor and they are going to examine the toe once more and this time I really hope they remove it so that my mom can finally be free from all this pain.The reason to why they refuse to surgically remove it is because [they say] that the body will take care of the problem but I doubt that very much and it's not humane to let her suffer like this!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-485597859564254833?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/485597859564254833/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=485597859564254833' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/485597859564254833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/485597859564254833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2007/07/shes-in-pain.html' title='She&apos;s in pain!'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31549519.post-115368489713566813</id><published>2006-06-30T21:57:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2008-05-15T20:55:38.196+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blog'/><title type='text'>I'm back!</title><content type='html'>My new blog is up and running. *yahoo*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decided to make a new blog but in English this time so that all of my friends can read about me in my blog and not just my friends in my own country. I’ve just also learned that I can upload pics directly from my cell phone to this blog and once I understand that option a little better I will get busy doing just that… what’s the fun in getting a new cell phone and a new blog if you can’t use both of them at the same time?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31549519-115368489713566813?l=sevensjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/115368489713566813/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31549519&amp;postID=115368489713566813' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/115368489713566813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31549519/posts/default/115368489713566813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sevensjournal.blogspot.com/2006/07/im-back.html' title='I&apos;m back!'/><author><name>Seven</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RgvCjHeEIGk/SWXdOSRXYpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/T6xlpyvL9XM/s1600-R/me-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
