tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-87021100459072596172024-03-14T03:21:18.206-04:00Tales of a Hockey WifeTales of a Hockey Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03556628136730377261noreply@blogger.comBlogger152125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8702110045907259617.post-19703246914715706222012-05-23T01:44:00.000-04:002012-05-23T05:14:46.842-04:0050 shades of Rambling!I know, I have not posted for a long time! Well tonight, I felt I owed you all a post..If there are any of you are left. Maybe it is the wine I am <strike>guzzling</strike> drinking...but tonight I feel like I will just let my fingers type whatever my brain spits out. Hang on and enjoy the word vomit...I will hold your hair back (Like Mr Grey did for Ana!) um.....gross! <br />
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Can you believe it is already May 22? Holy Crap! Last year at this time we were at our cottage for a month already. My daughter had been enrolled in a new school to finish out her 1st grade year, our dock was installed, our boat was in the water, the leaves had been cleaned up, the patio furniture was out, and our summer home was clean and once agin in use.<br />
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What a difference a year makes! <br />
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We are still in Canada. My kids will finish in the same school they started at this year. I am working and will be staying in Canada the entire summer. Our cottage is still shut down, our boat is still under shrink wrap, and we don't know when we will open our home. The shitty thing is that most of my summer clothes are at the cottage, and it is beginning to get warm here. I might need to take a quick (if a 7 hour drive each way feels quick) drive to pick up some much needed items. <br />
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I am working...did I mention that? I am working at a FABULOUS gym, teaching 6+ classes a week, plus a few more in other facilities. I can teach anywhere from 6 - 12 classes per week when I sub. My knees hurt, my back hurts, and I am spending too much money on iTunes...but I love it! I will definitely have to do a post about a "day-in-the-life-of-a-fitness-instructor"! <br />
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Have I lost weight, you ask? A little...but since I am mostly teaching strength-based classes...I am getting more bulky. I think I mentioned before that I have a tendency to build big muscle.....my arms are getting a little more defined, and I can see a big difference in my waist and stomach...but as luck should have it, I am still wearing the same size clothes! {sigh}<br />
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I have just completed the second book of the 50 Shades of Grey series! {wowza!} I will start book three tonight and will probably be done my tomorrow. I get why everyone is reading it! If you have yet to start it..I suggest you do! I purchased a Kindle, so I could read it in public without anyone knowing what I was reading. I really am enjoying the book, and I think my husband is too. He has not read it yet, but I will make him! I do believe it is never too late to teach old dogs new tricks! <br />
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I can blog about the two pimples on my chin...{GRRRR} (yes, I still get pimples at my age...WTF?)<br />
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There is a new package of toilet paper in the entrance hallway. I wonder how long it will sit there until some poor person has to climb down two flights of stairs to grab it so they can wipe their ass because we are out of toilet paper in the bathrooms. That reminds me to hide my own roll in the bathroom so I don't disturb my experiment. <br />
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I like red wine....Bogle Zinfandel to be exact. It is sponsoring this post tonight.<br />
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I got my camera...a T3i. To busy to take pictures! <br />
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I have five different colors of nail polish on my left hand....I never can find a shade I like at the store. <br />
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I think my pimples are from the microphone while I teach...{double GRRRR!}<br />
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There are no pictures in this post.....I am too tired. <br />
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I think LA is going to win the cup...then every celebrity will come out of the woodwork pretending they love hockey......{gagging with a spoon}!<br />
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I had my 36th birthday this month....why do I feel like I am now rolling down a hill?<br />
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We have been in here three years {record} but we have been in two different homes. Just rented third home for the next season....hope we get to come back. I think there is a big cart standing in front of my horse! <br />
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Damn, Christian Grey is HOT! I would trade a little Red Room of Pain for a closet of clothes and a ride in Charlie Tango!<br />
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It sucks watching parents get old!<br />
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Staring at the package of toilet paper in the entry hall as I type.......I will keep you posted on twitter as to when it is properly put away! <br />
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I just realized I have an Easter egg wreath on my mantle....I guess I should put that away. I will do it when the toilet paper gets put away.<br />
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I have not seen my sister or father since Christmas 2010. I saw my mom last summer for 24 hours. I miss them.<br />
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I got a sunburn at the pool the other day....I am a sun worshiper. I will regret it when I am 50, but for now I am pleased when I am tan!<br />
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I think I am buzzed!<br />
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This post reminds me of <a href="http://bigfatginiblog.blogspot.ca/">this.</a> I LOVE her posts! Even though we are not on the same political page. Gini makes my Tuesdays better!<br />
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I was mentioned <a href="http://lakingsinsider.com/2012/05/17/thursday-skate-update-26/">here</a>.....{wow}. It is a discussion on Hockey Wives being hot or not. I think the person linked to me to prove the "NOT" point. Oh well....I guess the two pimples on my chin took me out of that contest anyhow!<br />
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I sometimes go back and read past posts of mine and wonder where I got my ideas. This may be the wine talking, but I think I would read my blog if it weren't MY blog. I hope other people like it too....if not, at least I do. <br />
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I wish my husband did more <a href="ttp://hockeywifetales.blogspot.ca/2011/02/valentines-day-choreplay.html">choreplay</a>! He vacuumed the other day {hot}...but left vacuum in the middle of the living room {not hot}!<br />
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I hope I wake up a size two tomorrow...but that probably won't happen....EVER!<br />
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A man told me he thought I was gorgeous today while in line at Timmy Horton's. I privately wondered if he had a Red Room of Pain as I said thank you! I think I am reading too much these days! <br />
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My last sentence is a question for you...my reader(s)....<br />
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Have you read the 50 Shades of Grey series? If so...twitchy palm, or stowed twitchy palm?<br />
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Cheers! <br />
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<br />Tales of a Hockey Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03556628136730377261noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8702110045907259617.post-31904527549638984892012-05-16T17:45:00.000-04:002012-05-16T17:45:01.278-04:00You know it is post-season when....<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br /></div>Tales of a Hockey Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03556628136730377261noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8702110045907259617.post-36414802398612140612012-04-17T18:12:00.000-04:002012-04-17T18:12:01.814-04:00...and the finalists are<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://hockeywifetales.blogspot.ca/2012/04/theres-something-about-stanley.html" target="_blank">Did you read this post?</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bi6pDEhmol0/T43lVN-vmSI/AAAAAAAABW4/JIWzH254WOg/s1600/discover.tiff" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="137" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bi6pDEhmol0/T43lVN-vmSI/AAAAAAAABW4/JIWzH254WOg/s400/discover.tiff" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I would like to introduce the three finalists for the Discover Card contest...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">DAY WITH THE CUP!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">It is up to you to help select the winner by going to <a href="https://www.facebook.com/discover?sk=app_376115779074701" target="_blank">Discover's Facebook Page</a> and voting for who you think deserves to spend the day with the Stanley Cup! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Here is a preview of the three finalists....</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ucQAqe_lZOo/T43kRecLFcI/AAAAAAAABWc/1POC5pZTGYU/s1600/Army+hockey.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="193" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ucQAqe_lZOo/T43kRecLFcI/AAAAAAAABWc/1POC5pZTGYU/s320/Army+hockey.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><h3 style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; font: inherit; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">Army & Hockey</span></h3><div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: #333333; font: inherit; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 7px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 7px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></div><div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font: inherit; margin-bottom: 7px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 7px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: left; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I deserve to win a day with the Stanley Cup because my hockey team, Fulton Red Raiders squirts helped me get through the rest of my hockey season because my day had to leave. He had to leave on January 28th to go over seas to fight for our Country. He is a solider. Hockey was something that me and my dad did together, every weekend, my mom don't like the cold. My dad will not be back until almost the end of next year's hockey season, and I can't wait. So to win a day with the Stanley Cup would mean a lot to me, my dad and the soldiers, it would be awesome if the New Jersey Devils win, that's my dad's favorite team. Noah D.</span></div><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JkvaHXNBw8w/T43kglwWjBI/AAAAAAAABWo/36kIXtZxJM8/s1600/stanley+wedding.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="193" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JkvaHXNBw8w/T43kglwWjBI/AAAAAAAABWo/36kIXtZxJM8/s320/stanley+wedding.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"><h3 style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-weight: bold; font: inherit; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">My Knight Is My Trophy</span></h3><div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: #333333; font: inherit; margin-bottom: 7px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 7px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: left; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">l was looking for love and found it at a skating rink! My knight in shining armor was a defenseman with pads, skates, a helmet and rather than holding a sword he had a hockey stick. Ahh, l had found my true love. He had only one flaw, his favorite team was my teams' arch enemy for many years, but at least his team was also one of the original six. When we got married no cake was "just right" for us, so we decided what better way to start our wedded life than with a cake that looked like The Stanley Cup. After all, winning my husbands love was like winning The Stanley Cup for me.</span></div><div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; margin-bottom: 7px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 7px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: left; vertical-align: baseline;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WTXOoJgonvE/T43ktpT5I6I/AAAAAAAABWw/QpMI8Ce6z5M/s1600/Sled+hockey.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="193" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WTXOoJgonvE/T43ktpT5I6I/AAAAAAAABWw/QpMI8Ce6z5M/s320/Sled+hockey.jpg" width="320" /></a></div></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"><h3 style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-weight: bold; font: inherit; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">Inventing Hockey from Thin Air</span></h3><div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: #333333; font: inherit; margin-bottom: 7px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 7px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: left; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My son, Nick, was born with spina bifida. When he was nine years old, he decided he wanted to play hockey. Of course, standing hockey was out of the picture, but sled hockey exists for people like Nick. Because we live in Southern California, there was no sled hockey team for 500 miles. My son decided that hockey was important enough that he started his own sled hockey program from scratch. Of course, he had help from mom and dad (my husband and me), but Nick is the country's biggest hockey fan. Other people follow a team, and some people play, but my son thought hockey was important enough that he has invested himself and most of his spare time to bringing sled hockey to our area. When hockey wasn't available, he made it appear out of thin air! Now, Nick's team has eleven members, and about six more players who play with him occasionally. They're raising money to purchase more sleds and travel. He is such an inspiration! If anyone is a hockey fan, Nick is!</span></div><div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; margin-bottom: 7px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 7px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br />
</div></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"> <b>Voting will be open until April 21st, with the winner being announced on May 6, 2012. </b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><b><br />
</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;">Discover Card is the official card of the NHL!</span> </b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><b>Be sure to follow them on <a href="https://twitter.com/#!/Discover" target="_blank">Twitter</a> and 'like' them on <a href="https://www.facebook.com/discover" target="_blank">Facebook</a>!</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><b><br />
</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">(I voted...but I won't tell you who I voted for until the winner is announced!) </span> </b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><b><br />
</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">I was compensated for this post with Discover gift cards. All comments are mine and were not swayed by the compensation! Be sure to follow me on <a href="https://twitter.com/#!/hockeywifetales" target="_blank">Twitter</a> for your chance to win your own Discover Gift Cards!</span></b></div>Tales of a Hockey Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03556628136730377261noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8702110045907259617.post-77468201814594511242012-04-01T08:00:00.003-04:002012-04-01T09:02:28.319-04:00There's something about Stanley!It is getting to be that time of the year....<br />
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</div><div style="text-align: center;">The end of the 2011-2012 Hockey season has quickly snuck up on us, and playoffs are right around the corner. I once posted this little tidbit about NHL playoffs...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 20px; line-height: 26px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;"><i>Did you know that if you watched every Stanley Cup playoff game....and each series possibly went to seven games...you would end up watching 105 possible games! </i></span></div><div style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 20px; line-height: 26px; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5fiokg1M06E/TdceVajoDdI/AAAAAAAAAn4/D3U3EayWaOU/s1600/hockeytv.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="color: #990000; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-decoration: underline;"><img border="0" height="162" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5fiokg1M06E/TdceVajoDdI/AAAAAAAAAn4/D3U3EayWaOU/s200/hockeytv.jpg" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-left-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; border-top-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); border-top-style: solid; border-top-width: 1px; padding-bottom: 4px; padding-left: 4px; padding-right: 4px; padding-top: 4px;" width="200" /></a></div><div style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 20px; line-height: 26px; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 20px; line-height: 26px; text-align: center;">There's definitely something about Stanley! </div><div style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 20px; line-height: 26px; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 20px; line-height: 26px; text-align: left;">The first time I met Stanley, I had just given birth to my daughter. My husband and I were in Toronto, and we decided to check out the Hockey Hall of Fame. </div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-O8TzgErQMFY/T3fLPP0lvnI/AAAAAAAABVM/iJtMv5pMMMw/s1600/hall+of+fame.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-O8TzgErQMFY/T3fLPP0lvnI/AAAAAAAABVM/iJtMv5pMMMw/s1600/hall+of+fame.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">{via}</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 20px; line-height: 26px;">At the very end of the day, we went upstairs into a beautiful space known as the "Great Hall". </span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jNKOttTXLNE/T3fLRqJxQqI/AAAAAAAABVU/-Q6Gg369VV8/s1600/great+hall.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jNKOttTXLNE/T3fLRqJxQqI/AAAAAAAABVU/-Q6Gg369VV8/s1600/great+hall.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">{via}</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 20px; line-height: 26px; text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;">In the Great Hall you will find a vault with the original Stanley Cup from 1892. There are also displays of all the trophies awarded in hockey and the images of every Hall of Fame inductee. In the center of the Great Hall is The Stanley Cup (a replica, as the real Stanley Cup travels all over the world.)</div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EaktwGr3R48/T3fLVMTBZUI/AAAAAAAABVc/QHxpYOPW8HI/s1600/stanley+hall.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EaktwGr3R48/T3fLVMTBZUI/AAAAAAAABVc/QHxpYOPW8HI/s1600/stanley+hall.jpg" /></a></div><div style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 20px; line-height: 26px; text-align: left;">Of course, it is wise to take a picture of yourself with the cup. (However, it is not wise to do so right after birthing a baby!) The best part is that you stand right next to the Cup, and touch it as well. No velvet ropes to keep you at arm's length at the Hockey Hall of Fame! </div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-p_gInR2HJy8/T3fMlfWn3II/AAAAAAAABVs/UpcsRvieYT4/s1600/stanley.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-p_gInR2HJy8/T3fMlfWn3II/AAAAAAAABVs/UpcsRvieYT4/s320/stanley.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Did I mention how I had just had a baby and was still carrying the baby weight?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>The second time I met Stanley...was <a href="http://hockeywifetales.blogspot.ca/2012/01/when-meeting-great-one-is-not-so-great.html">this night</a>. I have this day forever burned into my memory! I am sure you can figure out why after reading the post. Hanging with Wayne and Stanley in one day....Of course I was not carrying any baby weight this time, and conveniently I can not find a picture to save my life! Oh wait...here is one! {wink}<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-F2EdIR40r7s/T3feTSUvVNI/AAAAAAAABWE/ljeqi-cmIHg/s1600/bikini.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-F2EdIR40r7s/T3feTSUvVNI/AAAAAAAABWE/ljeqi-cmIHg/s1600/bikini.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Thank God for Tales of a Hockey wife photo magic! </span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
The third time I met Stanley....it was a beautiful day in the fall. I cherish the photos I have with my children and Stanley. There was a picture of my son sitting in Lord Stanley that even made a magazine! <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-X58tuq0gcGM/T3fPHQvcy-I/AAAAAAAABV0/ETyVNoYO1cg/s1600/stanley+kids.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-X58tuq0gcGM/T3fPHQvcy-I/AAAAAAAABV0/ETyVNoYO1cg/s320/stanley+kids.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My kids and Stanley! My daughter on the right was the baby in the picture at the Hall of Fame! </td></tr>
</tbody></table>Unfortunately, we have not {yet} had the opportunity to do this....<br />
<div><br />
<div><br />
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<center><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/0znbTenWVAs" width="560"></iframe></center><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">The Day With the Cup! </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Starting in 1995, each player on the Championship team gets to spend the day with the Stanley Cup. Although I can tell you that there is a Stanley Cup ring in our house...my husband received it before the tradition of spending the day with the Cup began. I can only hope we have a chance to one day eat ice cream from the bowl of the most famous trophy of all! But until that day comes...<a href="http://www.Discover.com/StanleyCup" target="_blank">Discover Card</a> is giving one person a chance to spend the day with The Stanley Cup!</div><br />
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<center><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/9sTvq7wpsr4" width="560"></iframe></center><center><br />
</center><center>Do you know what you would do if you won? </center><center><br />
</center><center style="text-align: left;">I am excited to work with Discover Card to promote such a great contest. This is a first at Tales of a Hockey Wife...and although I have been contacted before to promote various products/services on my blog, it never felt like something I could relate to my blogging. However, there is something magical about being in the presence of the Stanley Cup. I don't care if you follow hockey or not. When the Stanley cup is near, you cannot help but to reach out and touch it. </center></div></div><br />
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<center><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/ZmgIxFCoa4o" width="420"></iframe></center><center><br />
</center><center style="text-align: left;">To enter Discover's Day With The Stanley Cup...</center><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-F5_B9AIwiNE/T3fcB_rKGTI/AAAAAAAABV8/CrZJunzQB4M/s1600/day+with+cup.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-F5_B9AIwiNE/T3fcB_rKGTI/AAAAAAAABV8/CrZJunzQB4M/s1600/day+with+cup.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<center style="text-align: left;"><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16px;"> Discover is encouraging hockey fans to submit an original photo that best demonstrates their passion for hockey, along with a 1000 character or less description that answers the question, “<i>I deserve a day with the Stanley Cup because…</i>” Entries can be submitted to Discover’s Facebook fan page by visiting <a href="http://www.discover.com/StanleyCup" style="color: blue; text-decoration: underline;">www.discover.com/StanleyCup</a> and following the instructions. </span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16px;">After April 12, three final entries will be chosen and posted to Facebook where the public will have five days to vote for their favorite entry. The contestant with the most votes by 11:59 p.m. ET on April 21, 2012 will be deemed the official <i>Day With the Cup™</i> Winner, and will be awarded the ultimate hockey package, which includes spending a day with the Stanley Cup, celebrating with family and friends, having the experience documented and featured during game one of the Stanley Cup® Final, as well as round trip airline fare, hotel and tickets to one of the games of the Stanley Cup Final. </span> </li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"><i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">Day With the Cup™</span></i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"> is open to all legal residents of the 50 United States who are at least 18 years old. Legal guardians of children under the age of 18 are eligible to enter on behalf of their children. All eligible entries will be judged by representatives of the Sponsor and an independent judge to determine three Finalists based on the on the following criteria: originality and creativity of essay, enthusiasm as demonstrated in essay, appropriateness of photo to theme and sincerity of essay.</span></span></li>
</ul></center><center style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">Did you know Discover Card is the official card of the NHL? It is also the very first credit card I ever received! I was eighteen years old. Twenty years later, I still have (and use) my Discover Card. Maybe it was destiny that my life would revolve around hockey? I have probably spent so much money over those twenty years on my Discover Card...that I could buy my own Stanley Cup! Although, it might be easier to just get my 15% Cash Back at <a href="http://shop.nhl.com/">shop.nhl.com</a> when I use my Discover Card. </span></center><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mvDQgrIE5UU/T3foO-GpvBI/AAAAAAAABWU/l6mfLIrPC0Q/s1600/shopp.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mvDQgrIE5UU/T3foO-GpvBI/AAAAAAAABWU/l6mfLIrPC0Q/s1600/shopp.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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<center style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></center><center style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">Not only do you get the chance to spend the day with The Stanley Cup...Discover Card is also giving me two (2) $25.00 Discover gift cards to give away randomly to two of my blog readers! Who doesn't want an extra $25.00 to spend? All I ask is that you leave a comment on this post or on<a href="https://twitter.com/#!/hockeywifetales" target="_blank"> Twitter</a>, telling me what you would eat/drink out of The Stanley Cup if you could spend the day with it. (Be sure to tag <a href="https://twitter.com/#!/hockeywifetales" target="_blank">@hockeywifetales</a> and <a href="https://twitter.com/#!/Discover" target="_blank">@discover</a> in your answer!) I am intrigued by your responses, as I am sure you have thought about it on a regular basis!</span></center><center style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></center><center style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">I would eat this!</span></center><center style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FIjbanRKJ2Y/T3fh85dfnRI/AAAAAAAABWM/tea365eg6Kg/s1600/kd.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FIjbanRKJ2Y/T3fh85dfnRI/AAAAAAAABWM/tea365eg6Kg/s320/kd.jpg" width="145" /></a></div><br />
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<center style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></center><center style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">Be sure to follow me on Twitter <a href="https://twitter.com/#!/hockeywifetales" target="_blank">@hockeywifetales </a>as I share some of my favorite Stanley Cup food/drink comments each day! You can also follow <a href="https://twitter.com/#!/discover" target="_blank">@Discover </a> to find out the latest entry information for Discover's Day With The Stanley Cup!</span></center><center style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></center><center style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">I will select my two random winners of the $25.00 Discover gift cards on April 12, 2012...the last day you can enter to win a chance to spend the day with The Stanley Cup, courtesy <a href="https://www.facebook.com/discover?sk=app_376115779074701" target="_blank">Discover Card</a>!</span></center><center style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></center><center style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></center><center style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79; font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-small;">Disclosure: I have been compensated by Discover Card for the above post. However, I would not accept compensation unless I truly believed in the contest I have written about.</span></center><center style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></center><center style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></center><center style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
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</center>Tales of a Hockey Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03556628136730377261noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8702110045907259617.post-13965765528137567942012-03-17T00:07:00.000-04:002012-03-17T00:07:19.372-04:00St. Patrick's reposted!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Right now, my life is so busy I cannot think straight enough to blog...but I thought I would repost my St. Patrick's Day post from last year! Wishing you all a wonderful day filled with luck and good beer! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-vWKihxHD_Q8/TYIHVACcTFI/AAAAAAAAAfk/qJTYNVbt7U0/s1600/stpats.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-vWKihxHD_Q8/TYIHVACcTFI/AAAAAAAAAfk/qJTYNVbt7U0/s200/stpats.jpg" width="142" /></a></div>Are you wearing green? Is the corned beef in the crock pot and the Guinness beer chilling in the cooler? Well then...today must be St. Patrick's Day! For some of you, maybe you will pull out the one green item you have in the back of your closet...something you only wear once a year so you won't get pinched. Maybe you are like Megan Fox, and you borrow your 8 year-old's t-shirt...and it f*cking fits!<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-vnjUHu7H-a8/TYFOWIsR2eI/AAAAAAAAAeY/ZX4Q6Fo7euI/s1600/MeganFox.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-vnjUHu7H-a8/TYFOWIsR2eI/AAAAAAAAAeY/ZX4Q6Fo7euI/s1600/MeganFox.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Image courtesy of Google Image Search</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
Anyhow...every year my husband gets a copy of the dates for the upcoming season sent to him. As soon as we get this schedule, I narrow down a few important dates to see if my husband will be home or away. These dates include...<br />
<ol><li>My children's birthdays</li>
<li>Christmas</li>
<li>All-Star break</li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">ST. PATRICK'S DAY!</span></li>
</ol><div>Ever since I can remember, my husband and I have celebrated St. Patrick's Day instead of Valentine's Day. We exchange gifts, give each other cards that profess our love to each other, and we drink Guinness while we dine on corned beef and cabbage. </div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-q60DwbGhjr4/TYFTDHqdlxI/AAAAAAAAAec/njyqwoP0E94/s1600/guinness.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-q60DwbGhjr4/TYFTDHqdlxI/AAAAAAAAAec/njyqwoP0E94/s1600/guinness.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Image courtesy of Google Image Search</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div>Of course it is not that we are jumping on some green bandwagon...we really do have reason to celebrate. Our love was built on both of our love of anything Irish. We both have Irish family roots. My husband's mother was born on St. Patrick's Day. We have similar tastes in music, such as The Waterboys. I have had a four-leaf clover tattooed on my foot since I was eighteen (and a shamrock on my back). I offered to buy him a Bushmills the night we met. (My favorite hard beverage...stirred not shaken please!) We honeymooned in Ireland. Our children both have been given Irish names. Let's be honest...who wouldn't want to find a reason to dress like this?</div><div style="text-align: center;"> <a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-HU2qwE7wB3s/TYFVyP-tapI/AAAAAAAAAeg/XAwO3F85Jjc/s1600/Untitled_1_2_3_4_5_6_7_8_275.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-HU2qwE7wB3s/TYFVyP-tapI/AAAAAAAAAeg/XAwO3F85Jjc/s320/Untitled_1_2_3_4_5_6_7_8_275.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">This is my son on St. Patrick's Day when he was almost one year old! </div><br />
That day we took our children to the local Irish pub to have a traditional Irish breakfast (skip the blood sausage please!). As we walked in the place went nuts. Here he is next to one of the bartenders showing off their matching green mohawks and guinness shirts! Supposedly, this picture is framed on the wall of the bar...my husband and I are so proud!<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-wKA5uIW8TJw/TYFbqv3kLjI/AAAAAAAAAes/7chB-IN3xts/s1600/bumper.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-wKA5uIW8TJw/TYFbqv3kLjI/AAAAAAAAAes/7chB-IN3xts/s1600/bumper.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Image courtesy of Google Image Search</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-fPhV2KPGqKg/TYFb7eVJfsI/AAAAAAAAAew/-fAWtCydAG4/s1600/border.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-fPhV2KPGqKg/TYFb7eVJfsI/AAAAAAAAAew/-fAWtCydAG4/s1600/border.jpeg" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>From the moment you walk in our house (where ever that might be for the hockey season)...it is obvious that this is a home that takes their Guinness Drinking seriously! Our framed artwork consists of prints by John Gilroy...best known for his Guinness Beer art.<br />
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<center><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-bYWegHx0BSU/TYFdhzBZYoI/AAAAAAAAAe4/Hfl3bnPi2B4/s1600/gilroy3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-bYWegHx0BSU/TYFdhzBZYoI/AAAAAAAAAe4/Hfl3bnPi2B4/s1600/gilroy3.jpg" width="100" /></a><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-_AvpkGuOgaM/TYFdiGcXcSI/AAAAAAAAAe8/vHW7u2MNl98/s1600/gilroy2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-_AvpkGuOgaM/TYFdiGcXcSI/AAAAAAAAAe8/vHW7u2MNl98/s1600/gilroy2.jpg" width="100" /></a><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Kwvbn_p2KQM/TYFdidkIBSI/AAAAAAAAAfA/_EEMgjj_PI0/s1600/gilroy1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Kwvbn_p2KQM/TYFdidkIBSI/AAAAAAAAAfA/_EEMgjj_PI0/s1600/gilroy1.jpg" width="100" /></a></center><br />
As most <s>bad</s> parents do, we let our daughter take a sip of Guinness, upon her insistence, when she was almost three. I can tell you she didn't like the taste of it, and this is how I know...<br />
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One day, after we had just returned from a two-week trip, I was sitting in our living room talking to my sister on the phone. I heard my daughter make some strange gurgling noises and was acting like she was gagging. As she came in the room, I could smell a putrid smell on her. My immediate thought was that she had consumed a poison of some type. <br />
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ME: <i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">What is wrong? What did you drink?</span></i><br />
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HER: <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;"><i>GUINNESS</i>...</span>(she said it as though she had just consumed a near fatal dose of arsenic!)<br />
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ME: <i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">Guinness?</span></i> I tried to think what poison could be mistaken for guinness....<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">OH MY GOD, SHE DRANK OLD ENGLISH!!</span></i><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-J0YVJAh5rVo/TYFqUDfBNcI/AAAAAAAAAfI/7KKBsKp2WPM/s1600/oldenglish.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-J0YVJAh5rVo/TYFqUDfBNcI/AAAAAAAAAfI/7KKBsKp2WPM/s1600/oldenglish.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Image courtesy of Google Image Search</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
Then I found it...My daughter had found a sippy-cup of old milk (over two weeks old) and had taken a sip. <br />
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<i>(I will wait for you to stop gagging)....</i><br />
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In my daughter's mind, the only thing more disgusting than drinking two-week-old milk...would be Guinness!<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-Ixk_OVVzBs0/TYFjeeTBIdI/AAAAAAAAAfE/5aUINgY4el4/s1600/guinnesspoison.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-Ixk_OVVzBs0/TYFjeeTBIdI/AAAAAAAAAfE/5aUINgY4el4/s1600/guinnesspoison.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Image courtesy of Google Image Search</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-fPhV2KPGqKg/TYFb7eVJfsI/AAAAAAAAAew/-fAWtCydAG4/s1600/border.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-fPhV2KPGqKg/TYFb7eVJfsI/AAAAAAAAAew/-fAWtCydAG4/s1600/border.jpeg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i>Do you get excited for St. Patrick's Day in your house?</i></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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<center><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/eteWVqVPcTQ" title="YouTube video player" width="480"></iframe></center></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-0md_p66pdFs/TYIEmHrah-I/AAAAAAAAAfY/pKjEPwrycso/s1600/border.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-0md_p66pdFs/TYIEmHrah-I/AAAAAAAAAfY/pKjEPwrycso/s1600/border.jpeg" /></a></div><br />
For my husband...</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-4XkdT083Abc/TYFztTA92jI/AAAAAAAAAfM/8DoaxGfTlo8/s1600/loveirish.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-4XkdT083Abc/TYFztTA92jI/AAAAAAAAAfM/8DoaxGfTlo8/s1600/loveirish.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Image courtesy of Google Image Search</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-fPhV2KPGqKg/TYFb7eVJfsI/AAAAAAAAAew/-fAWtCydAG4/s1600/border.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-fPhV2KPGqKg/TYFb7eVJfsI/AAAAAAAAAew/-fAWtCydAG4/s1600/border.jpeg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-Tu4fK1PTq7s/TYIGVxra_XI/AAAAAAAAAfg/KmKQbxgzeBw/s1600/hangover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-Tu4fK1PTq7s/TYIGVxra_XI/AAAAAAAAAfg/KmKQbxgzeBw/s1600/hangover.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Image courtesy of Google Image Search</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">May your morning after St. Patricks Day find you well!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;">Slainte!</span></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-fPhV2KPGqKg/TYFb7eVJfsI/AAAAAAAAAew/-fAWtCydAG4/s1600/border.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-fPhV2KPGqKg/TYFb7eVJfsI/AAAAAAAAAew/-fAWtCydAG4/s1600/border.jpeg" /></a></div>Tales of a Hockey Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03556628136730377261noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8702110045907259617.post-768987754307428652012-02-29T00:32:00.001-05:002012-02-29T08:10:34.012-05:00You say "Obsession" like it is a bad thing.....Maybe you recall<a href="http://hockeywifetales.blogspot.com/2011/12/why-i-didnt-save-my-first-car-for.html"> this post</a>. Maybe you participated in the Live Chat on my blog while we watched this show together.<br />
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<center><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/Xp-jZyzQSms" width="560"></iframe></center><br />
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The channel that allows us to peek into the homes of hoarders, watch a woman drink nail posh, and introduced us to Go-Go Juice and Honey Boo-Boo has done it again. Ladies and Gentlemen, I introduce to you...<br />
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<center><iframe allowtransparency="true" frameborder="0" height="360" id="dit-video-embed" scrolling="no" src="http://static.discoverymedia.com/videos/components/tlc/aa253d77ae39915000d8769e977fdbcf333608f2/snag-it-player.html?auto=no" width="640"></iframe></center><br />
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This new show debuts on Wednesday March 7th on The Learning Channel (TLC)! Unfortunately, I am working that night...but thank the Lord for Tivo!Tales of a Hockey Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03556628136730377261noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8702110045907259617.post-69695579588797239202012-02-25T13:32:00.000-05:002012-02-25T13:32:41.723-05:00The Good Wives Guide...HWT style!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fPElByKadqA/T0knFI68rmI/AAAAAAAABUs/ZoYGFMEy5Pk/s1600/good+wives.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fPElByKadqA/T0knFI68rmI/AAAAAAAABUs/ZoYGFMEy5Pk/s1600/good+wives.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://helloladies.com/2011/06/the-opposite-of-nice-isnt-bitch/">{source}</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>The last few days I have had Michelle Duggar's (19 Kids and Counting on TLC) tips for being a good wife on my blog. I decided to respond with my own reactions, thoughts, and agreements. Be sure to read some of the comments left for <a href="http://hockeywifetales.blogspot.com/2012/02/talk-amongst-yourselves.html">this post</a>....and leave your own thoughts as well! </div><div><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UqtQAYwXBTg/T0XGJrxpqeI/AAAAAAAABT0/_cx7DiPwdeg/s1600/duggars.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="172" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UqtQAYwXBTg/T0XGJrxpqeI/AAAAAAAABT0/_cx7DiPwdeg/s400/duggars.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div></div><div><br />
</div><div>1. A husband needs a wife who respects him as a man: A woman destroys her husband's manliness by "being financially independent; love is killed by self-sufficiency."<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;">I do agree that a marriage is based on a "dependency" that is EQUAL to both sides...but <i>destroying his manliness </i>is going a bit far! I know of a couple that could tell you about "destroying manliness"! </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JkFQl8FkDV4/T0cQPCBd2aI/AAAAAAAABT8/dbd6hj92BZw/s1600/bobbit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JkFQl8FkDV4/T0cQPCBd2aI/AAAAAAAABT8/dbd6hj92BZw/s1600/bobbit.jpg" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;"><br />
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</div>2. A husband needs a wife who accepts him as a leader and believes in his God-given responsibilities.<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">...And on the eighth day, God gave man responsibilities. These did not include sitting on the couch watching golf while his wife cleaned the kitchen! </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mDuwxY-UK4o/T0cS71JJkxI/AAAAAAAABUE/QcOnetGpvYs/s1600/golf.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="194" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mDuwxY-UK4o/T0cS71JJkxI/AAAAAAAABUE/QcOnetGpvYs/s320/golf.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;"><br />
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3. A husband needs a wife who will continue to develop inward and outward beauty: Your hairstyle, for example, can show "obedience vs. defiance" and "personal discipline vs. inconsistency," among other things.<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">HUH?</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DaTmpY_krf4/T0cUEErPpeI/AAAAAAAABUM/lc682uU-Reg/s1600/hair.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="165" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DaTmpY_krf4/T0cUEErPpeI/AAAAAAAABUM/lc682uU-Reg/s320/hair.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;"><br />
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4. A husband needs a wife who can lovingly appeal to him when he is going beyond his limitations and wisely respond to those who question his ideas, goals or motives: "Ask your husband to tell you when you have a resilient spirit; ask forgiveness whenever you do."<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">So it is OK to point out when he is doing something stupid? I can agree with that. But if someone else points it out, I better stand up for him...even if they are right about my husband? Once I point out his faults, I need to apologize for doing so?</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pTplKsAYLDk/T0kiApzYuQI/AAAAAAAABUU/8gYzSwjCs94/s1600/lost.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="190" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pTplKsAYLDk/T0kiApzYuQI/AAAAAAAABUU/8gYzSwjCs94/s400/lost.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
5. A husband needs quality time to be alone with himself and the Lord.<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">Michelle, I have a feeling when your husband has been in the shower for more than ten minutes it is not the Lord he is thinking about!</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IceaxAHIE48/T0kjExC2vpI/AAAAAAAABUc/5ZNYQMwyp8o/s1600/alone.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="278" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IceaxAHIE48/T0kjExC2vpI/AAAAAAAABUc/5ZNYQMwyp8o/s320/alone.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
6. A husband needs a wife who is grateful for all he has done and all he is doing. "Expect nothing and be genuinely grateful for each little evidence of your husband's love."<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">I get this one...I usually expect that nothing will be done around the house on a day he is alone with the kids...and I am genuinely grateful if the dishes made it from the table to the sink!</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ovAxZztRLlU/T0klHC47cUI/AAAAAAAABUk/um0Besje5NE/s1600/dishes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ovAxZztRLlU/T0klHC47cUI/AAAAAAAABUk/um0Besje5NE/s1600/dishes.jpg" /></a></div><br />
7. A husband needs a wife who will be praised by other people for her character and her good works.<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">I guess that would be preferred than being married to a woman that people think is a B*TCH!</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8xhOrOb8jkY/T0koKwu4bnI/AAAAAAAABU0/ecB6g_uxqfc/s1600/bitch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8xhOrOb8jkY/T0koKwu4bnI/AAAAAAAABU0/ecB6g_uxqfc/s1600/bitch.jpg" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;"><br />
</span>Tales of a Hockey Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03556628136730377261noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8702110045907259617.post-72625974884513671942012-02-23T08:00:00.000-05:002012-02-23T08:00:14.391-05:00Talk Amongst Yourselves....<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div>Michelle Duggar (mom of 19 kids that all start with the letter "J") spoke to women at a conference and passed along a few tips about the role of a wife in a marriage. Go ahead and read these tips and talk amongst yourselves. Tomorrow I will give you <i>my</i> thoughts about each tip...HWT style! </div><div><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UqtQAYwXBTg/T0XGJrxpqeI/AAAAAAAABT0/_cx7DiPwdeg/s1600/duggars.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="172" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UqtQAYwXBTg/T0XGJrxpqeI/AAAAAAAABT0/_cx7DiPwdeg/s400/duggars.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div> </div><div><br />
</div><div>1. A husband needs a wife who respects him as a man: A woman destroys her husband's manliness by "being financially independent; love is killed by self-sufficiency."</div><div><br />
</div>2. A husband needs a wife who accepts him as a leader and believes in his God-given responsibilities.<br />
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3. A husband needs a wife who will continue to develop inward and outward beauty: Your hairstyle, for example, can show "obedience vs. defiance" and "personal discipline vs. inconsistency," among other things.<br />
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4. A husband needs a wife who can lovingly appeal to him when he is going beyond his limitations and wisely respond to those who question his ideas, goals or motives: "Ask your husband to tell you when you have a resilient spirit; ask forgiveness whenever you do."<br />
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5. A husband needs quality time to be alone with himself and the Lord.<br />
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6. A husband needs a wife who is grateful for all he has done and all he is doing. "Expect nothing and be genuinely grateful for each little evidence of your husband's love."<br />
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7. A husband needs a wife who will be praised by other people for her character and her good works.Tales of a Hockey Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03556628136730377261noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8702110045907259617.post-7518564998630611292012-02-14T09:22:00.000-05:002012-02-14T09:22:03.059-05:00A Valentine's Day Repost - CHOREPLAY!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CjfH-Qu1kjk/TVirI8oSu-I/AAAAAAAAAPA/A2oyMQXWSQ8/s1600/choreplay3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="140" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CjfH-Qu1kjk/TVirI8oSu-I/AAAAAAAAAPA/A2oyMQXWSQ8/s200/choreplay3.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>Today is Valentine's Day! Do you have something romantic planned? Whatever you do, make sure you include lot's of choreplay! <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9KwybYLJfTw/TViQz9CgMQI/AAAAAAAAAOs/i3FRS4G6D64/s1600/border.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9KwybYLJfTw/TViQz9CgMQI/AAAAAAAAAOs/i3FRS4G6D64/s1600/border.jpeg" /></a></div><br />
This summer, my husband and I were having a <s>disagreement</s> discussion, in which I pointed out that I do 90% of all housework. Our conversation went something like this (it actually went exactly like this, but my husband will probably tell you it didn't)...I have included visuals.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Bjih-XGKiqI/TViI9kWDQ0I/AAAAAAAAAOg/xnzsXOjvSIQ/s1600/angrywife.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Bjih-XGKiqI/TViI9kWDQ0I/AAAAAAAAAOg/xnzsXOjvSIQ/s1600/angrywife.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"><i>"I do 90% of the housework around here!"</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gacVGh4GnGM/TViL7nP9VwI/AAAAAAAAAOk/_Y1cB5wxeEs/s1600/disbelief.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="106" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gacVGh4GnGM/TViL7nP9VwI/AAAAAAAAAOk/_Y1cB5wxeEs/s200/disbelief.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;"><i>"90%?"</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tGyIzZkl4UA/TViP6XqppFI/AAAAAAAAAOo/HhRSnbd8OX0/s1600/chores.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tGyIzZkl4UA/TViP6XqppFI/AAAAAAAAAOo/HhRSnbd8OX0/s1600/chores.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"><i>"You don't even know 60% of what I do exists!"</i></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Maybe I am exaggerating a little bit...my husband doesn't really do 10% of the housework, it is more like 5%! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I was reading the latest <a href="http://www.chatelaine.com/">Chatelaine magazine</a> (similar to Family Circle here in Canada) and they had a Question of the Month...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">What's the most romantic moment you've ever experienced?</span></i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Of course, there were your typical romantic responses...One man made his wife origami roses since they were short on money, one man booked a babysitter and took his wife for a romantic weekend, one man cut out 100 hearts and wrote romantic things on each heart before hanging them in the living room, blah, blah, blah...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Then it caught my eye...a small submission from Joyce of Quebec:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">"For me, nothing was more romantic than the day my husband told me he would start doing the laundry. He's great at helping me--it means I fall back in love with him every day!"</span></i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"><br />
</span></i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Ladies...I am talking about CHOREPLAY! <a href="http://www.cosmosmagazine.com/news/1880/more-chores-more-sex?page=1">According to the Council of Contemporary Families (CCF)</a>, <i>the more men do around the house the happier women are.</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; font-family: verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;">The reward for menfolk who help out around the house could be more sex. "We sociologists generally don't go there, but therapists say there's a direct correlation" between men doing more housework and the frequency of sex, said Scott Coltrane, a co-author of the article.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fnhsJwLX7_s/TVicfykpbMI/AAAAAAAAAOw/GMMHvl26_dU/s1600/roleplay.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fnhsJwLX7_s/TVicfykpbMI/AAAAAAAAAOw/GMMHvl26_dU/s1600/roleplay.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">In a fascinating <a href="http://pagingdrgupta.blogs.cnn.com/2010/11/04/does-a-clean-kitchen-lead-to-more-sex-the-art-of-chore-play/">article</a>, Dr. Gert Holstege says...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; font-family: verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 0px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 0px; border-collapse: separate; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 20px;">Of course, it’s tough for a woman to chill out when she comes home from one job, only to be burdened by a “second shift” of cleaning, cooking, and chaos. In that scenario, sex is just one more task on her to-do list. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #ffe599;">The goal of choreplay: to move sex to the top of that list by helping her cross off some of the less scintillating items.</span></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; font-family: verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 0px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 0px; border-collapse: separate; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 20px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I have a few sexy suggestions to spice up your <i>choreplay</i> this Valentine's Day...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Nothing like an adult video to get into the mood!</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LEVK9Z0eX28/TVii1IEDvRI/AAAAAAAAAO0/0oB0UZaTuGY/s1600/porn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LEVK9Z0eX28/TVii1IEDvRI/AAAAAAAAAO0/0oB0UZaTuGY/s1600/porn.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">From the book by Susan Anderson</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;">Don't be afraid to use "toys"!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OfB1z8yjreQ/TVikL6ibrAI/AAAAAAAAAO4/PTTsMqxlYpg/s1600/swiffer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OfB1z8yjreQ/TVikL6ibrAI/AAAAAAAAAO4/PTTsMqxlYpg/s1600/swiffer.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">How about a sexy little outfit?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BgXBkMmNL2U/TVinVNe80XI/AAAAAAAAAO8/wz7mdtQLiyE/s1600/choreplay2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BgXBkMmNL2U/TVinVNe80XI/AAAAAAAAAO8/wz7mdtQLiyE/s1600/choreplay2.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Have a happy and satisfying Valentine's Day!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>Question: Does your significant other give you enough CHOREPLAY?</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</span></i></div>Tales of a Hockey Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03556628136730377261noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8702110045907259617.post-55753558086518007902012-02-11T11:11:00.002-05:002012-02-11T11:27:45.579-05:00How to lose your Valentine with one gift!This post is for the men out there. <br />
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It's that time of year..the dreaded 14th of February is on it's way, and I am sure the panic to find the perfect gift has settled in. Valentine's Day is a make-it or break-it event for all of you! Get the wrong gift and you will be forever shunned to the Dog House.<br />
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PART ONE:<br />
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PART TWO:<br />
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I saw this commercial today, and I felt I needed to give you a little warning....DO NOT ORDER THESE! This is NOT a <i>Hot Valentine's Day Gift</i>, as the commercial claims it is! <br />
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<center><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/wsMV9L63Ssg" width="420"></iframe></center><center><br />
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<center><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/bZTZ_lxvBes" width="420"></iframe></center><center> </center><center><br />
</center><center>Do you have another item that is a MUST NOT for your Valentine? Share it with me and I will put it in an upcoming Valentine's Day post. I would love to do a top ten list of the WORST GIFTS FOR VALENTINE'S DAY...</center><br />
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<center><a href="mailto:hockeywifetales@gmail.com">hockeywifetales@gmail.com</a></center>Tales of a Hockey Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03556628136730377261noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8702110045907259617.post-48579666493843945412012-02-10T11:50:00.000-05:002012-02-10T11:50:48.753-05:00Something to talk about?I am going to host a live chat on my blog tonight 6:00 pm for those of you on the West Coast and 9:00 pm for those of you on the East Coast! 7:00 pm and 8:00 pm for those of you living right in the middle! <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uX15Eu82UU8/TzVI9yF2UtI/AAAAAAAABTk/QqtD94GEs78/s1600/livechat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uX15Eu82UU8/TzVI9yF2UtI/AAAAAAAABTk/QqtD94GEs78/s1600/livechat.jpg" /></a></div><br />
Grab a bag of chips with a drink and settle onto the couch in your finest yoga pants and stained T-shirt! This is a great way to meet fellow bloggers and tweeters that you have seen floating through the social media universe. <br />
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As always, I like to offer a "topic" for all of us to answer as we join into the live chat. It is a great way to get the conversation going....<br />
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;">What celebrity do people tell you you look most like?</span></i><br />
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If you cannot make it at 8:00 CST/9:00 EST, feel free to join in at anytime....these chats have been known to go on for a few hours! <br />
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</span></i>Tales of a Hockey Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03556628136730377261noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8702110045907259617.post-45995620555912268942012-02-08T08:00:00.005-05:002012-02-08T08:00:08.178-05:00Guess who's coming to dinner...?Thanks for all the great questions...<br />
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Tonight I thought I would answer two of them in one post....<br />
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My first question was this:<br />
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<i>How do I nail down the Hockey Player of my dreams?</i><br />
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Hmmm, how do I answer this? Seeing that I never had a hockey player in any of my dreams...unless the dream looked a little like this....<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zYPKzQErHrg/TzHi5OGl6MI/AAAAAAAABSc/Op5z2HnvmxA/s1600/hockey+player.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zYPKzQErHrg/TzHi5OGl6MI/AAAAAAAABSc/Op5z2HnvmxA/s1600/hockey+player.jpg" /></a></div><br />
In all honesty, I didn't even know my future husband was a hockey player when I met him...but I do know I could hear Handel's Hallelujah chorus in my ears as I walked toward the blinding light that was shining behind him.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fAH_9ijJ8Ro/TzHkcPSld0I/AAAAAAAABSk/qsETtHsE7Rk/s1600/handel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fAH_9ijJ8Ro/TzHkcPSld0I/AAAAAAAABSk/qsETtHsE7Rk/s200/handel.jpg" width="200" /></a></div> I assume however, the type of hockey player you are interested in "landing" would be more of a young player with a seven-figure paycheck...not the older-about-to-retire hockey player that I nailed-down! Who wouldn't want to date someone who makes 2.5 million dollars per year to play a silly game on ice? Sign me up!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5fQqd0_sBiE/TzHlE6XfWPI/AAAAAAAABSs/zmXAaLShuAw/s1600/eharmony.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5fQqd0_sBiE/TzHlE6XfWPI/AAAAAAAABSs/zmXAaLShuAw/s1600/eharmony.jpg" /></a></div>If there was a dating site for finding hockey players, I would suggest an ad that looks like this:<br />
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Single female seeks a loving relationship with a big <strike>contract</strike> heart. I love moving twice a year, living in hotel rooms, and enjoy being alone while you travel. I come from a wonderful family that I could care less if I only see once per year, and the Masters Degree I earned was just for fun. I love the idea that other women have no regard for our relationship, and I enjoy reading horrible things online about the people I love.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dZz5Q4ynuPo/TzHo-vb1aSI/AAAAAAAABS0/zdb-Ej9kg4o/s1600/border.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dZz5Q4ynuPo/TzHo-vb1aSI/AAAAAAAABS0/zdb-Ej9kg4o/s1600/border.jpeg" /></a></div>The second question was this:<br />
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<i>What was your parent's initial reaction to dating a "hockey player", and how do they feel about him now?</i><br />
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Remember how I said it was love at first sight? The night I met my future husband, I went home and signed into my AOL dial-up account to look up his last name on the team website. I couldn't remember it to save my life. I definitely called my BFF and told her I met the man I was going to marry, and the next day I popped my head into my dad's office and I asked him this question...<br />
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"<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">What would you say if I dated a hockey player who is much older than me?</span></i>"<br />
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My father's response was typical and full of sarcasm (I think)..."<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;">Is he rich?</span>"<br />
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My father had always told my sister and me..."If you are going to study, study in the law library and the medical library!" The most humorous part is that I met my husband in a bar called <i>The Library</i>!<br />
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Since I was twenty-one at the time and my future husband was thirty-five, that was much more shocking to people than the fact he played hockey for a living. (Remember, I was from a city that was not a big hockey town, so dating a hockey player was not a big deal.) <br />
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My family was not shocked about the age difference, as I have always dated older boys...(I was fifteen when my first real boyfriend was eighteen) (I was nineteen when I dated a thirty-four year old) (I was twenty when I dated a MUCH OLDER MAN)...so there really were no raised eyebrows once I began dating my future husband!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CDuGtMuIZvM/TzHvs9RXsjI/AAAAAAAABS8/zi9cM0CQxTI/s1600/trophy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CDuGtMuIZvM/TzHvs9RXsjI/AAAAAAAABS8/zi9cM0CQxTI/s1600/trophy.jpg" /></a></div><br />
Funny story, my uncle is the same age as my husband, and one night he was at a game. His friend had on my husband's jersey, and so my uncle told him how (my husband) was going to be his nephew. The guy didn't believe him because my husband was the oldest guy on the team, if not in the league. I definitely tease my husband about my "Uncle Bob". My husband refuses to call him his uncle!<br />
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The truth is that my husband is the nicest man you will ever meet. He is respectful and comes from an amazing family. Although I have moved away from my family...I think my parents are quite pleased with my choice of a husband. I married my husband because I fell in love with a man who happens to play hockey. To me, my family and our friends, my husband is just that...my husband. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6aYi6UG2hnQ/TzH3zmfDuZI/AAAAAAAABTc/4INyelthX6Y/s1600/hockey+wedding+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6aYi6UG2hnQ/TzH3zmfDuZI/AAAAAAAABTc/4INyelthX6Y/s1600/hockey+wedding+2.jpg" /></a></div>Tales of a Hockey Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03556628136730377261noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8702110045907259617.post-7139261041582562142012-02-06T13:59:00.001-05:002012-02-06T14:04:34.677-05:00Sometimes you need to watch your words...Dear Gisele,<br />
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Sometimes, you need to watch what you say. Maybe you missed<a href="http://hockeywifetales.blogspot.com/2011/11/from-players-wife-to-coachs-wife.html"> this post</a> of mine. Right at the bottom of the post, I lay out some ground rules for dating or marrying an athlete. NEVER SPEAK ABOUT THINGS THAT ARE NOT FOR OTHERS TO HEAR! I am sure Tom gave you quite the talk this morning when this video surfaced. <br />
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<center><iframe frameborder="0" height="320" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://widget.newsinc.com/single.html?WID=2&VID=23569919&freewheel=69016&sitesection=nypost" width="425"></iframe></center><br />
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I know it is tough to hear horrible things yelled about your husband. It is always disappointing when your husband's team loses, especially a championship game. But for goodness sake...DO NOT TALK POORLY OF YOUR HUSBAND'S TEAMMATES! Even if your husband has voiced a few negative things in the privacy of your home. This makes YOU look bad and your HUSBAND look bad. <br />
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Even though I am anonymous on this blog, if you were to go back and read <u>every single post</u>, I never say anything that could come back to haunt me about my husband's team or players. I always make sure when I write my posts...I imagine the GM of my husband's team reading it. <br />
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So Gisele...I hope you have learned a lesson, and your husband is able to return to Boston and clean up your mess!Tales of a Hockey Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03556628136730377261noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8702110045907259617.post-53658805435140123102012-02-05T09:03:00.000-05:002012-02-05T09:03:44.470-05:00You ask, I will answer....except for that!I am opening up my next post to a few of your questions. Go ahead, ask me a question and I will answer it. (But I won't answer THAT question. You know...the one about who my husband is). <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qt5g22zsVU4/Ty6L79rrQCI/AAAAAAAABSU/7E_RlRNXrtA/s1600/questions.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qt5g22zsVU4/Ty6L79rrQCI/AAAAAAAABSU/7E_RlRNXrtA/s1600/questions.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>The truth is, I have all these great ideas for posts swirling around my brain, and for some reason I cannot find the motivation to post them. So I was hoping for a little help from you. Do you have a question for me? Maybe you have a question for my husband? Or maybe an idea for my next post? Then ask away, and I will answer....<br />
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send your questions to <a href="mailto:hockeywifetales@gmail.com">Tales of a Hockey Wife</a>Tales of a Hockey Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03556628136730377261noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8702110045907259617.post-6110479539848573232012-01-27T14:46:00.000-05:002012-01-27T14:46:45.454-05:00Are we giving up too easily?Marriage is hard! Choosing to spend the rest of your life with one person; for better or worse, in sickness and in health, and until death do us part is not as easy to do as it is to say. But once you say those vows...are you really required to honor them? <br />
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We all rolled our eyes when Kim Kardashian got married in a very expensive whirlwind made-for-TV wedding. When Kim announced the marriage was over after 72 days, none of us were surprised. Brittany Spears got married in Las Vegas to a childhood friend, just because. Fifty-five hours later it was annulled and we all just shrugged our shoulders. Who didn't shake their heads when Lisa Marie married Michael Jackson...no surprise when that marriage didn't last. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-I8ESeyrSAwg/TyLtrUtiDVI/AAAAAAAABQ8/LuYMvh1s_Ko/s1600/sanctity.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="155" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-I8ESeyrSAwg/TyLtrUtiDVI/AAAAAAAABQ8/LuYMvh1s_Ko/s320/sanctity.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
There have been so many celebrities announcing separations and divorces that it is enough to make me question...Is divorce the new black?<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NB2ATrssZPk/TyLu7gNHT6I/AAAAAAAABRE/CG61d6gQKnc/s1600/black+dress.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NB2ATrssZPk/TyLu7gNHT6I/AAAAAAAABRE/CG61d6gQKnc/s1600/black+dress.jpg" /></a></div><br />
Sometimes, it is obvious that a marriage won't last...maybe the celebrities have only dated a short time before tying the knot, or they are the complete polar opposites. When they announce their marriage, we are intrigued...when they announce their separation, we are not surprised. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1pqGuLbAMkY/TyLvbxuurbI/AAAAAAAABRM/fFzQWkFccjo/s1600/katy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1pqGuLbAMkY/TyLvbxuurbI/AAAAAAAABRM/fFzQWkFccjo/s1600/katy.jpg" /></a></div><br />
But then there are the couples that seem like they truly love each other...and when they announce their separation....we are truly surprised. When Heidi Klum and Seal announced their decision to separate....I was shocked. They both seemed so in love (in the tabloid magazines I read). Susan Sarandon and Tim Robbins seemed like they were together for the long haul. Although they never formally married, they were together for two decades! I am secretly rooting for Courtney Cox and David Arquette. Although they are no longer together as husband and wife, they seem like they truly want the best for each other...and still spend time in each other's company. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-H3msDCGqMvs/TyLw3Xp633I/AAAAAAAABRU/p3tQJryohHU/s1600/love.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-H3msDCGqMvs/TyLw3Xp633I/AAAAAAAABRU/p3tQJryohHU/s320/love.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Of course, when there is an indiscretion, such as infidelity...I think divorce is definitely warranted. Once the trust is broken, it is hard to stand by your partner's side. Ashton Kutcher, LeAnn Rimes, Jesse James and Tiger Woods strayed from their marriage and lost their spouses because of it. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xaB9hbvmV-U/TyLyb9GPb8I/AAAAAAAABRc/IqZpVXjizZ4/s1600/cheaters.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="142" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xaB9hbvmV-U/TyLyb9GPb8I/AAAAAAAABRc/IqZpVXjizZ4/s320/cheaters.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>But what about non-celebrities? Obviously divorce happens to everyday couples as well. My parents divorced when I was five years old. In fact, my mother was the age I currently am when she separated from my father. My sister and I were the ages that my children are right now. I am so appreciative that both my parents put their differences aside and divorced with grace. I can honestly say I never saw my parents fight. Although we lived with my mother a majority of the time, we saw my father often. Never once did I feel like I had to choose between my mother or father. <br />
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Both of my parents have now been remarried to their current spouses longer than they were originally married to each other. I am thankful that my children have four grandparents who love them dearly. My mother and my step-mother get a long well and it is never awkward to have all four of my parents in the same room. This definitely made my wedding and family parties so much easier. I have friends whose parents will not even speak to each other after they divorced. Such a burden to be placed on their children, who must act as referees. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7WbboHon-Vg/TyLyxa7dHlI/AAAAAAAABRs/EUIVRhXuhCY/s1600/kids.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7WbboHon-Vg/TyLyxa7dHlI/AAAAAAAABRs/EUIVRhXuhCY/s1600/kids.jpg" /></a></div><br />
I have now been married to my husband for almost nine years. We have been together for fifteen. As I have spoken of before, his career dictates where we live and how are lives together are shaped. To say it is easy would be a lie. There have been times that I have been quite resentful. It is hard to leave friends, leave jobs, and leave my family. Most of the time I have no say in the city we move to, but I put a smile on my face and make the best of it. I have often wondered what my life would have been like had I never served him the beer on the night I met him. Would I still be single? Would I have started a career? Would I have moved away from my family? <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-W7Wp8UXVGNc/TyL2yprewqI/AAAAAAAABR0/jwpqsf5peIQ/s1600/sting.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-W7Wp8UXVGNc/TyL2yprewqI/AAAAAAAABR0/jwpqsf5peIQ/s1600/sting.jpg" /></a></div><br />
I see celebrities divorce their spouses and become single mothers. Jennifer Lopez already has a young boyfriend (that was fast, eh?) and they seem to jaunt from Madrid to Hawaii. She makes being a single mother look so easy. I often think...where are her kids? Kate Gosslin has eight kids, yet has time to fly from PA to LA for the Golden Globes... dance with the Stars...and vacation on the beach with her "bodyguard". Imagine this...Your marriage doesn't work out, and suddenly you are single again. After the divorce, you start dating, once again enjoying the honeymoon stage that had long-disappeared in your former marriage. Who wouldn't want to take vacations where you didn't have to pack for your husband and kids too. Just a carry-on with a bikini, a cocktail dress, and a change of underwear. Life is good....<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4A4MKNvZDMY/TyL4aDyLOhI/AAAAAAAABR8/AuqvOvXqid0/s1600/divorce+nanny.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="251" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4A4MKNvZDMY/TyL4aDyLOhI/AAAAAAAABR8/AuqvOvXqid0/s320/divorce+nanny.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>But is it? I don't recall my mother going out on many dates...or take amazing vacations. My mother, like me, was a stay-at-home mom when my parents divorced. She took a job as a secretary to make ends meet. She had to get us off to school and then come home from a long day at work to cook dinner, help with homework and put us too bed. Weekends were for grocery shopping, cleaning the house and catching up with laundry. Yes, we would often see my father and stay at his house on weekends...but as a mother I can only imagine how much my own mom appreciated the day or two of silence...just to read a magazine or enjoy a hot bath. I don't think she was competing in a dance competition while we were away...but who knows?<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-D7VmVQZjwuo/TyL5Z_YRU2I/AAAAAAAABSE/gi3Il_z_Rz4/s1600/single+mom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="194" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-D7VmVQZjwuo/TyL5Z_YRU2I/AAAAAAAABSE/gi3Il_z_Rz4/s320/single+mom.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
My marriage is not perfect....but it is strong. I describe it like this..."it just is". I don't get flowers and he doesn't get pole dances. He sometimes irks me, and my nagging drives him nuts. There are some days we don't talk while he is on the road. But there are little things that mean a lot....the Diet Coke he brings to me in the afternoons, or the rare time I iron one of his shirts. Those are the things that mean the most. Things nobody can see but us. How does a marriage survive nine cities and two moves per year? We both have decided that divorce is not an option.<br />
<br />
Someone once told me this piece of advice for a long marriage....<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As long as you BOTH don't fall out of love at the same time....your marriage will survive. </span><br />
<br />
This is so true. Marriage is full of ups and downs. If my husband and I were to throw in the towel the first time our marriage was not easy...we would have separated many hockey seasons ago. <br />
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<center><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/w1h_hmdVJAc" width="420"></iframe></center><br />
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The night I met my husband, I called my best friend and told her I met the man I was going to marry. I just knew....the way you know about a good melon!<br />
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<center><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/guinBnWWuKE" width="420"></iframe></center>Tales of a Hockey Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03556628136730377261noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8702110045907259617.post-29000015154060563852012-01-26T19:04:00.000-05:002012-01-26T19:04:33.446-05:00This could save a life...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DThSEOpqwe0/TyHpyLsreuI/AAAAAAAABQk/SJq-1HfUhBQ/s1600/wine.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DThSEOpqwe0/TyHpyLsreuI/AAAAAAAABQk/SJq-1HfUhBQ/s320/wine.jpg" width="293" /></a></div>Tales of a Hockey Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03556628136730377261noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8702110045907259617.post-39773269485703086932012-01-20T08:00:00.001-05:002012-01-20T08:00:02.315-05:00I swear to you...and my kids do too!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-x1wNL3qH1lU/TxjfLMBx0SI/AAAAAAAABPs/9vM4WKbuB_8/s1600/mcdonalds.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="185" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-x1wNL3qH1lU/TxjfLMBx0SI/AAAAAAAABPs/9vM4WKbuB_8/s200/mcdonalds.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>My son has hockey on Tuesday mornings, and has become friendly with the other boys on his team. This last week, a few of us moms decided to take the boys to McDonald's to have lunch and play in the <strike>petri dish</strike> play area. I didn't say anything to my son...and when we pulled into the McDonald's parking lot he spied one of his hockey buddies. <br />
<br />
"<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c;">Oh my gosh, there is Matthew!</span></i>"<br />
<br />
I pulled into the parking space and my son was out of his seatbelt immediately. He was standing up in the minivan and couldn't wait to get inside. I was making sure I had my phone in my purse and was about to open the door when I heard...<br />
<br />
"<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c;">Oh my gosh, my whole team is here....HOLY $HIT!</span></i>"<br />
<br />
I must admit, the first thing that went through my head was...<br />
<br />
"<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;">Holy $hit...where did he learn that word?</span>"<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kZPV_Mk0_os/TxjgrhrhtBI/AAAAAAAABP0/kokAxxaAohg/s1600/thinking.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kZPV_Mk0_os/TxjgrhrhtBI/AAAAAAAABP0/kokAxxaAohg/s320/thinking.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
While suppressing my desire to smile and laugh, I asked the mandatory question...<br />
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"<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;">What did you just say?</span>"<br />
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My son knew he had said a bad word. Although he doesn't know what it means, he knows it is definitely a word that is not to be spoken by his four-year-old mouth. My son also knew the best way to answer me was to DENY, DENY, DENY....<br />
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"<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c;">Mom, I said Holy Moley</span></i>."<br />
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I then let my son know that it is one thing to say those words in our home, but if he speaks them in school or around other people...I would not be happy. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5I1GIsigskM/TxjiDFmqPsI/AAAAAAAABQE/bObnUJEmrzk/s1600/soap.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="185" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5I1GIsigskM/TxjiDFmqPsI/AAAAAAAABQE/bObnUJEmrzk/s200/soap.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br />
I am not going to lie....my kids hear inappropriate language in our home. I don't use profanity all of the time, but if I stub my toe, or burn myself while cooking...I sure as F*cking H*ll will let out an expletive. My husband has been known to throw out the odd F-bomb...but I am definitely the one to accept the blame when it comes to the naughty words my kids say. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JqOtE3VUGuE/TxjhyKJJMXI/AAAAAAAABP8/gjEAZulJl6c/s1600/button.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JqOtE3VUGuE/TxjhyKJJMXI/AAAAAAAABP8/gjEAZulJl6c/s200/button.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br />
Maybe some of you are nodding your heads, and understand that children hear most foul language in their own home before they hear it elsewhere. Maybe some of you are appalled by the fact I am not too concerned about my children saying such words that I irresponsibly speak in front of their young ears. To those of you who never swear...or who swear their children would never say such words...please hear me out.<br />
<br />
To me, it is not the word, it is how it is used. <br />
<br />
If my son or daughter uses a swear word toward someone...<br />
If they swear in school, church, or a public space...<br />
If they use it inappropriately...<br />
<br />
I WILL NOT BACK THEM AND THEY WILL BE PUNISHED! My job as a parent is to teach my children how to moderate the language that they will hear from friends, in movies, and on the street. I would never want my son to think it is acceptable to swear while working in an office...<br />
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I am a believer that there are definitely some people who are more likely to use curse words...and there are those who never have the desire or need to use certain language...even if a gosh darn brick falls on their toe. My daughter is one of those people. I don't think she has ever used a swear word...and to this day thinks the "s" word is "stupid". But my son...he takes after his mom! That boy can work a "naughty" word into any conversation. I often say my son uses only four-basic-word-groups....<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;">Fart</span>, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">poop</span>, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">stinky</span>, and <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;">butt</span>.<br />
<br />
If I had a dollar for every time my son said one of those words in the course of an hour, I would be a very wealthy woman!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Pul0zMRkGFE/Txjkf4dq5yI/AAAAAAAABQM/nbdwEEIDspw/s1600/cash.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Pul0zMRkGFE/Txjkf4dq5yI/AAAAAAAABQM/nbdwEEIDspw/s200/cash.jpg" width="163" /></a></div><br />
I assume swear words are similar to drugs. You start out small....with recreation words like "poop" and "fart". It all seems innocent enough, then the next thing you know you are shooting up words like $HIT and F*CK! I think my son is headed down that road...and it is not going to be pretty.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-s5I1ray-yiY/TxjoEMoDeLI/AAAAAAAABQc/cl1QZJUeN7Q/s1600/swearing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-s5I1ray-yiY/TxjoEMoDeLI/AAAAAAAABQc/cl1QZJUeN7Q/s1600/swearing.jpg" /></a></div><br />
My husband has often said the language in a hockey locker room is not something he would want his mother to hear. I guess I should be proud knowing I too am playing an important part in his hockey development.....locker room preparation! <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BM077Dt5k2U/TxjnSCdczkI/AAAAAAAABQU/EcfoDld6GKI/s1600/hockeymom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="168" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BM077Dt5k2U/TxjnSCdczkI/AAAAAAAABQU/EcfoDld6GKI/s320/hockeymom.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
So why am I blogging about swearing? <br />
<br />
Have you heard about Modern Family's episode last night? Lily dropped the F-word! Of course one of her fathers thought it funny (me) while the other father was concerned about his daughter's use of the word (my husband). If you have a moment, here is a great synopsis of the television episode, and the fall-out that has come from it! <br />
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<div style="background: transparent; color: #999999; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; margin-top: 5px; text-align: center; width: 420px;">Visit msnbc.com for <a href="http://www.msnbc.msn.com/" style="border-bottom: 1px dotted #999 !important; color: #5799DB !important; font-weight: normal !important; height: 13px; text-decoration: none !important;">breaking news</a>, <a href="http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/3032507" style="border-bottom: 1px dotted #999 !important; color: #5799DB !important; font-weight: normal !important; height: 13px; text-decoration: none !important;">world news</a>, and <a href="http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/3032072" style="border-bottom: 1px dotted #999 !important; color: #5799DB !important; font-weight: normal !important; height: 13px; text-decoration: none !important;">news about the economy</a><br />
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So what is your take on swearing? Has your child ever used an expletive, and if so...what did you do about it? Leave me a comment and tell me your experience.Tales of a Hockey Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03556628136730377261noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8702110045907259617.post-52868575851874047242012-01-12T07:53:00.000-05:002012-01-12T07:53:28.451-05:00When meeting The Great One is not so great.....I often get asked if I ever meet any famous hockey players. That all depends on who is considered "famous" in hockey. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yZRkrleHEKo/Tw5aKIr0DrI/AAAAAAAABOE/66F7OBthgDI/s1600/famous.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yZRkrleHEKo/Tw5aKIr0DrI/AAAAAAAABOE/66F7OBthgDI/s1600/famous.jpg" /></a></div><br />
The city I grew up in is definitely not a big hockey town. When I met my husband, and he told me what he did for a living, our conversation went a little something like this...<br />
<br />
"<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;">What do you do for a living?</span></i>"<br />
"<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">I play hockey</span>"<br />
"<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;">So are you considered a professional?</span></i>"<br />
"<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">Yes, I get paid to play the game, so I am a professional.</span>"<br />
<br />
You see I never really thought about it that way. In fact I never really thought about hockey at all. Over the years, there have been many introductions to past teammates and opponents of my husband. Hockey really is a small world, and everyone seems to know everyone. Each time I was introduced to "what's his name" or "that guy" as I tend to call them after...my husband and I usually have this conversation...<br />
<br />
"<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;">So who is that guy again?"</span></i><br />
"<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">Jaromir Jagr?</span>"<br />
"<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;">Oh yeah, that guy....So what is his story? Did he play hockey?</span></i>"<br />
{insert rolled eyes and a big sigh from my husband}<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qxJDnhmcSbM/Tw5bh3zNhMI/AAAAAAAABOM/puEIfA2R4pM/s1600/jaromir.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qxJDnhmcSbM/Tw5bh3zNhMI/AAAAAAAABOM/puEIfA2R4pM/s1600/jaromir.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">(PS....I totally had to look up the spelling of Jaromir's name just now!)</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">I don't even have to meet the player to embarrass myself. There was one time that a friend of ours (who works for the Detroit Red Wings) mentioned Steve Yzerman*. He was talking about how "<i>Steve came out of the office...</i>" and I innocently asked "<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;">Oh, is he the coach?</span></i>" </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-195tZJedMH0/Tw5oPIgapjI/AAAAAAAABPc/aGp1tEbYlNs/s1600/shock.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="190" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-195tZJedMH0/Tw5oPIgapjI/AAAAAAAABPc/aGp1tEbYlNs/s200/shock.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">If I had one dollar for every second of silence...I would be as rich as Mr. Yzerman. My husband shot me a look of pure embarrassment as he told me "<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">Steve Yzerman is only one of the best players to ever play for Detroit!</span></i>" As I apologized for my lack of hockey trivia, I pictured someone the same age as Gordie Howe**. </div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OgG3ErN7HJU/Tw5cCu09fpI/AAAAAAAABOU/14SEMxdumpo/s1600/howe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OgG3ErN7HJU/Tw5cCu09fpI/AAAAAAAABOU/14SEMxdumpo/s1600/howe.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #741b47; font-size: x-small;">** We had breakfast one time with Gordie Howe....that was pretty cool! I did excuse myself to use the washroom and phoned my father to tell him that I met Mr. Howe. </span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
A few weeks later, as they were retiring Yzerman's sweater....my husband called me in to watch. I think my husband rolled his eyes twice when I said..."<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;">Oh, he is young! I assumed he was in his 70's or something.</span></i>"<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q1wE7izxOw8/Tw5cHsm_mKI/AAAAAAAABOc/ZZ7FT5bi2KE/s1600/yzerman.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q1wE7izxOw8/Tw5cHsm_mKI/AAAAAAAABOc/ZZ7FT5bi2KE/s1600/yzerman.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-size: x-small;">*I once again had to look up the correct spelling of Steve Yzerman</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
If you have read my blog for a while, you would know that I once met Adam Oates...and that didn't turn out too well. <a href="http://hockeywifetales.blogspot.com/2011/02/hockey-wife-in-waiting.html">You can read about that here</a>.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-knH1a8IzxV0/Tw5co6ipPbI/AAAAAAAABOk/z7MrvxVvsek/s1600/oates.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-knH1a8IzxV0/Tw5co6ipPbI/AAAAAAAABOk/z7MrvxVvsek/s200/oates.jpg" width="149" /></a></div><br />
However, even I know that the ultimate famous hockey player would have to be The Great One...also known as Wayne Gretzky. Of course, any chance to meet Wayne Gretzky would be great.....unless you are me, then it is just a disaster. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-y8LizRkJDcw/Tw5c3O-VeRI/AAAAAAAABOs/z9QeIxSq_jE/s1600/wayne.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-y8LizRkJDcw/Tw5c3O-VeRI/AAAAAAAABOs/z9QeIxSq_jE/s1600/wayne.jpg" /></a></div><br />
For some reason, my husband's new team had a pre-season event at the arena....which included the Stanley Cup and an appearance of Wayne Gretzky. My husband went ahead of me, and I was going to meet him there later. Of course I was late because as usual, I couldn't find a thing to wear in my closet (<a href="http://hockeywifetales.blogspot.com/2011/11/i-got-another-question-today.html">see here</a>) .<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NiZ9XIj3xTE/Tw5d0oS-p8I/AAAAAAAABO0/ttFxLcdt6qU/s1600/late.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NiZ9XIj3xTE/Tw5d0oS-p8I/AAAAAAAABO0/ttFxLcdt6qU/s1600/late.jpg" /></a></div><br />
I was sweating and out of breath (also known as a hot mess) as I ran up some stairs and would you guess who was standing at the top of them? The GM, asst. GM, and Wayne Gretzky. The asst. GM introduced me to Wayne in true hockey form....(because in hockey you are never introduced with your name. Just as {your husband's name plus the word wife or girlfriend after}. It is so common, I usually introduce myself to other wives/girlfriends in the same way).<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ESeN0ZjERDs/Tw5e0PuRgLI/AAAAAAAABO8/T5_qYJXCTv8/s1600/wife.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="173" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ESeN0ZjERDs/Tw5e0PuRgLI/AAAAAAAABO8/T5_qYJXCTv8/s200/wife.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">So I am introduced to Wayne Gretzky, friendly chatter is exchanged and then I mention the need to find my husband. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The asst. GM said "<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">Oh, follow us</span></i>."</div><br />
So off I went with the three of them down a hall and into one of the arena suites. I assumed my husband was in there too. But guess what...he wasn't. So there I am, sitting in a chair across from Wayne. The two GMs have disappeared and you can hear the crickets as Wayne and I just sat there.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UFHYglCvzFc/Tw5gscQQ0FI/AAAAAAAABPE/IMFl3R2FN5g/s1600/crickets.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="206" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UFHYglCvzFc/Tw5gscQQ0FI/AAAAAAAABPE/IMFl3R2FN5g/s320/crickets.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Finally, Wayne's phone buzzed (or he pretended it did) and he excused himself. I couldn't get out of that suite fast enough! AWKWARD! <br />
<br />
Fast forward a few months...and it is now October. I had taken my daughter to Target and we purchased the Cinderella costume she wanted....and the first bag of Halloween candy. My husband was at the rink that night for something, so we stopped by. The parking for the rink was underneath the arena, and from there you entered the lower level where the coach's offices and locker rooms were. My daughter was playing in the wive's room when she asked if she could wear her Cinderella costume. I ran to the car and grabbed it...and while I was out there I grabbed a miniature box of Milk Duds.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GauqW4IYgds/Tw5hC3HzRII/AAAAAAAABPM/J0KcRBMOMdQ/s1600/milk+duds.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GauqW4IYgds/Tw5hC3HzRII/AAAAAAAABPM/J0KcRBMOMdQ/s200/milk+duds.jpg" width="134" /></a></div> Of course I didn't want my daughter to see me eat the candy, as I had told her we would not be eating it until trick-or-treat. I opened the box and shoved all four milk duds into my mouth and started chewing as I walked through the hallway. <br />
<br />
Wouldn't you know it, but out of an office comes Wayne Gretzky and he was walking my way.....<br />
<br />
Suddenly I realized I had a mouthful of milk duds...and there was no way I could clear the chocolate and caramel from my front teeth before we crossed paths. A dozen scenarios passed through my brain. What if he says hello? What if he recognizes me? What if I have to speak to him?<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gMkJI2s2yKc/Tw5kaGFRK9I/AAAAAAAABPU/yvP-NCeOD5M/s1600/remember.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="141" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gMkJI2s2yKc/Tw5kaGFRK9I/AAAAAAAABPU/yvP-NCeOD5M/s200/remember.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br />
So I did what any person who comes face to face with The Great One would do.....I turned my head, looked at the floor, and pretended not to see or recognize him while I walked past him.Tales of a Hockey Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03556628136730377261noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8702110045907259617.post-382805313950551562012-01-08T11:15:00.003-05:002012-01-09T20:59:32.477-05:00How to kill your blog...{without even trying}!The last time I wrote an original post on this blog was December 3, 2011 <a href="http://hockeywifetales.blogspot.com/2011/12/why-i-didnt-save-my-first-car-for.html">(click here)</a>. Since that time, I posted some previous posts as filler, so it would look like I was blogging. I even created a <a href="https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100003217880180">Facebook</a> page and linked it to my <a href="https://twitter.com/#!/hockeywifetales">twitter </a>account in hopes that it would seem as though I was creating whimsical thoughts that were no more than 14o characters long! <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-unUgAitF1mQ/TwmfKJPWq3I/AAAAAAAABMc/d3jzI1DSGTI/s1600/fbHWT.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-unUgAitF1mQ/TwmfKJPWq3I/AAAAAAAABMc/d3jzI1DSGTI/s1600/fbHWT.jpg" /></a></div>I promise you I have great ideas for posts that I want to share with you....like the time I met Wayne Gretzky (let's just say it involved Milk Duds). I could tell you why my husband, myself, my children, and anyone related to me has no political future because of something I may have done in 1997. I want to discuss my lack of will-power to eat properly for the last eight days? My "get in shape" resolution for 2012 lasted 12 minutes and 34 seconds. The list goes on and on.....and still, I have yet to post a single thing on my blog for the new year. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NjNexVS08Pc/Twmu3gJtfrI/AAAAAAAABMs/wYH5ZSVUzSc/s1600/block.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NjNexVS08Pc/Twmu3gJtfrI/AAAAAAAABMs/wYH5ZSVUzSc/s1600/block.jpg" /></a></div><br />
I guess you could say I have been:<br />
a) BUSY<br />
b) TIRED<br />
c) LAZY<br />
d) ALL OF THE ABOVE<br />
<br />
If you guessed (d) then you are correct. <br />
<br />
I would like to think the Holiday season had something to do with the busy and tired part. I am always so excited to pull out the Christmas decorations while listening to the wonderful sounds of Christmas music. This year's favorite album was Michael Bublé's Christmas album<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QtQhK1MDlzY/TwmiEaBRh8I/AAAAAAAABMk/i4yio73qx0w/s1600/buble.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QtQhK1MDlzY/TwmiEaBRh8I/AAAAAAAABMk/i4yio73qx0w/s1600/buble.jpg" /></a></div>My husband left town right after US Thanksgiving, and I got to work putting up the tree and decorating the house. My son wanted me to put up lights outside, but after <a href="http://hockeywifetales.blogspot.com/2011/03/i-will-get-it.html">this</a> happened last year....I decided against it. However, our neighbor felt the need to put an ugly WHITE strand of lights on a tree that from the road looks like it could be ours.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mKCpzE-EkOY/Twm_zQ2hAiI/AAAAAAAABN8/12RRCsRtNVg/s1600/whte+lights.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mKCpzE-EkOY/Twm_zQ2hAiI/AAAAAAAABN8/12RRCsRtNVg/s1600/whte+lights.jpg" /></a></div><br />
First off...who wraps a white cord around a green tree? Second, my four year old son could have done a better job wrapping the small tree! And third....the damn white strand of lights is still there! I swear to God, if those lights are still there in March!!!!<br />
(I would take a picture of it...but that is where answer (c) comes in...I am too LAZY!) <br />
<br />
Anyhow...I swear my husband was either on the road or had a game every night in December, including being out of town for the entire week before Christmas. I got the stomach flu, my daughter got croup, and my son had a horrible cold. <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xgjDYm-1_5M/TwmvxfLKY2I/AAAAAAAABM0/DrmPB1zI-JM/s1600/sick.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xgjDYm-1_5M/TwmvxfLKY2I/AAAAAAAABM0/DrmPB1zI-JM/s1600/sick.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.google.com/imgres?q=sick+for+christmas&hl=en&gbv=2&biw=1269&bih=616&tbm=isch&tbnid=A4GdHEzsCVDaIM:&imgrefurl=http://www.alteredfocus.net/the-worst-christmas-present-ever/&docid=kkAZhiTIQu3s4M&imgurl=http://www.alteredfocus.net/wp-content/uploads/2009/12/16sick.gif&w=354&h=378&ei=m68JT-PDBtHyggfc9Z21Ag&zoom=1&iact=hc&vpx=605&vpy=131&dur=1507&hovh=232&hovw=217&tx=126&ty=144&sig=117840838935453496766&page=1&tbnh=136&tbnw=127&start=0&ndsp=23&ved=1t:429,r:4,s:0">{source}</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
We drove on all day on the 23rd to spend Christmas with my husband's family...and drove all day on the 25th to get back home. Meanwhile, it has now been a whole year since I have seen my mom, dad and sister. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GRPI8XVHwEE/Twmz1Z3x7GI/AAAAAAAABM8/15RZah8KI_k/s1600/christmas+card.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="171" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GRPI8XVHwEE/Twmz1Z3x7GI/AAAAAAAABM8/15RZah8KI_k/s400/christmas+card.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
By December 26th...I was more than happy to take down every last drop of Christmas cheer...and I hope Michael Bublé is comfortable resting in the depths of my iTunes until next year. Any decoration that did not get set out for Christmas 2011 is now sitting at the local Salvation Army. As I was struggled for an hour to figure out how to put our 8.5' artificial tree back in the box it came in..I was tempted to get rid of that too! <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eVvXK7OSJIs/Twm2WOoS2pI/AAAAAAAABNE/2lk_uHxhxxE/s1600/charlietree.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="132" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eVvXK7OSJIs/Twm2WOoS2pI/AAAAAAAABNE/2lk_uHxhxxE/s320/charlietree.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
I did make it to my first hockey game the day after Christmas...My husband's team was winning by three goals when I got to the game.....but never scored again once I showed up. They lost that night. OOPS! <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KU27iCKT_AY/Twm4KalKFhI/AAAAAAAABNM/niQBCetqorU/s1600/sid.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="237" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KU27iCKT_AY/Twm4KalKFhI/AAAAAAAABNM/niQBCetqorU/s320/sid.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
By the time New Year's Eve came around...I was ready to start 2012 with a fresh new outlook. I was going to eat right....exercise more...and start posting more on Tales of a Hockey Wife. We spent New Year's Eve at a good friend's house. I wore my sweats and deemed the night BYOS (Bring Your Own Slippers). At 12:05 a.m. we said our good byes and we went home.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MRJSUjLs_bU/Twm5WCD_-HI/AAAAAAAABNU/9fXL7JmgfQg/s1600/slipper.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MRJSUjLs_bU/Twm5WCD_-HI/AAAAAAAABNU/9fXL7JmgfQg/s200/slipper.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>On New Year's day, my promise to stay away from carbs ended at 8:12 am...when I woke up and ate an egg burrito on a flour tortilla. <i>So much for eating right</i> (said the bag of guacamole chips I polished off last night)......I did pick up another Zumba class to teach, so at least I have added some more exercise to my week (and I get paid to do it!).<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sJz4hAVkCUI/Twm-U1LtEAI/AAAAAAAABN0/Yy8segFY0wI/s1600/zumbaole.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sJz4hAVkCUI/Twm-U1LtEAI/AAAAAAAABN0/Yy8segFY0wI/s1600/zumbaole.jpg" /></a></div><br />
So it should be no surprise that my Blogger stats have taken a direct hit. I wonder why this should bother me....but it does. When I see that people are reading my posts, it gives me a dose of pleasure....just as each new follower on Google Friends does. I rarely hear...."Wow, the house looks so clean", or "Thanks for doing my laundry", or "Thank you for keeping food in the house" from my family. Just knowing that people appreciate the time I put into my blog (those hockey masks don't just appear on "borrowed" stock photos from the web) and that they are reading my post and leaving comments... fills my empty "thank you" tank. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-p5f_OzIIWQU/Twm7eyNGMYI/AAAAAAAABNc/E7oy1QcocF0/s1600/thanks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="314" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-p5f_OzIIWQU/Twm7eyNGMYI/AAAAAAAABNc/E7oy1QcocF0/s320/thanks.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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So hang in there...I promise the Wayne Gretzky Milk Duds post will follow soon! <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UYLVN41QjOA/Twm8xDD_gfI/AAAAAAAABNk/GKdFmw1ofoI/s1600/duds.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UYLVN41QjOA/Twm8xDD_gfI/AAAAAAAABNk/GKdFmw1ofoI/s1600/duds.jpg" /></a></div>Tales of a Hockey Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03556628136730377261noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8702110045907259617.post-30905141461369848282011-12-31T23:59:00.002-05:002012-01-01T10:43:27.823-05:00Breaking up is {not so} hard to do!The number one all-time most-viewed blog post of 2011.......<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000; font-size: x-large;"><a href="http://hockeywifetales.blogspot.com/2011/11/so-you-want-to-marry-athlete.html">So You Want To Marry an Athlete?</a></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fj8-5a-oiV4/Tv-LVsJ0MPI/AAAAAAAABMU/GqjyfvidWds/s1600/want.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fj8-5a-oiV4/Tv-LVsJ0MPI/AAAAAAAABMU/GqjyfvidWds/s1600/want.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">My open letter to Kim Kardashian about her wedding/divorce was the most viewed post of all time. I was shocked to see the numbers of daily page views after I posted this.....I wonder if Kim herself saw it too {giggle}! </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Tales of a Hockey Wife will return after the new year with new tales for 2012....</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Thank you to all of you who have taken the time to read my blog, send lovely comments, and give me a reason to keep exposing my true inner-geek to all of you! </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div>Tales of a Hockey Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03556628136730377261noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8702110045907259617.post-26406914959861973432011-12-31T10:37:00.000-05:002011-12-31T10:37:24.039-05:00Are you a peeping tom?This post was my second most-viewed post of 2011....and I can only think about the poor guy who typed in "Inside a woman's locker room" in their Google search hoping to see naked women and came up with this.....<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000; font-size: x-large;"><a href="http://hockeywifetales.blogspot.com/2011/03/tales-from-ymca-locker-room.html">Tales From a YMCA Locker Room....</a></span></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9hewpPanqwI/Tv8q-2iIe5I/AAAAAAAABMI/U13e4zyPmV0/s1600/lockerroom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9hewpPanqwI/Tv8q-2iIe5I/AAAAAAAABMI/U13e4zyPmV0/s1600/lockerroom.jpg" /></a></div><br />
Speaking of gym locker rooms.....are you getting ready to start that exercise regimen this New Year? <br />
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Tonight at the stoke of midnight, my all time most-viewed blog post of 2011 will post....can you guess which post caused the most traffic?Tales of a Hockey Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03556628136730377261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8702110045907259617.post-41386599513088002202011-12-30T02:02:00.000-05:002011-12-30T02:02:55.736-05:00Want to see my underwear?2012 is fast approaching, and with it comes Tales of a Hockey Wife's one year anniversary.....so I decided to share with you the top three most viewed blog posts of 2011. <br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://hockeywifetales.blogspot.com/2011/02/tales-of-hockey-wife-underwear.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000; font-size: x-large;">Tales of Hockey Wife Underwear</span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kvG9LaL8d7Y/Tv1g22u3vVI/AAAAAAAABL8/SOFyjxDCt9s/s1600/grannypanties.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kvG9LaL8d7Y/Tv1g22u3vVI/AAAAAAAABL8/SOFyjxDCt9s/s1600/grannypanties.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Who knew that underwear would be such a hot topic? </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Check back tomorrow to see the second most-viewed post from Tales of a Hockey Wife!</div>Tales of a Hockey Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03556628136730377261noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8702110045907259617.post-38840905678011649642011-12-13T14:31:00.016-05:002011-12-14T14:00:50.815-05:00Friends...with benefits?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pGp9_S1ZmB8/TueqpYZlQGI/AAAAAAAABLw/Guwkh4TQDrM/s1600/fbHWT.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pGp9_S1ZmB8/TueqpYZlQGI/AAAAAAAABLw/Guwkh4TQDrM/s1600/fbHWT.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<br />
<center><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Look who now has a Facebook Page!!</span></center><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">You can find me under the name <i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100003217880180">Hockey Tales</a></span></i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
Do you want to be my friend?</div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;"><br />
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</span></i></div>Tales of a Hockey Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03556628136730377261noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8702110045907259617.post-12206750364698002022011-12-03T10:53:00.003-05:002011-12-03T14:21:16.580-05:00Why I didn't save my first car for marriage....My first car was a cream yellow Toyota Tercel hatchback...with orange stripes on the side. I bought it from my neighbor when I was sixteen for $250.00. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-203WtSKWovY/Ttoqp4tkaNI/AAAAAAAABJk/Oc9I1OdoquA/s1600/tercel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-203WtSKWovY/Ttoqp4tkaNI/AAAAAAAABJk/Oc9I1OdoquA/s1600/tercel.jpg" /></a></div><br />
I can recall the day I went over and handed the money I had been saving to my neighbor. The car was a standard, which I had never been able to drive. Sure I had played around with other people's stick shifts, but I had never driven it the entire way. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ot6fsWXhdsM/TtorBIYmGiI/AAAAAAAABJs/FPIpep_clb0/s1600/stickshift.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ot6fsWXhdsM/TtorBIYmGiI/AAAAAAAABJs/FPIpep_clb0/s200/stickshift.jpg" width="151" /></a></div><br />
Awkwardly I backed my "new" car out of the neighbor's driveway...and pulled it into my driveway. I practiced reversing and driving. In and out of my driveway I went over and over again...in and out, in and out. Afterwards, I sat in my car and looked around at all of the options this car had. Seeing that it was my first car....I can remember that day well. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JssNHqqvlkg/TtosiU1ZjeI/AAAAAAAABJ8/uM_7RHn3iVY/s1600/saveit+car.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="169" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JssNHqqvlkg/TtosiU1ZjeI/AAAAAAAABJ8/uM_7RHn3iVY/s320/saveit+car.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
My car had a sunroof that could be "popped" in and out. (For those of you who are too young to understand...you literally had to pop the thing out and store it in your back seat or trunk). I also had a tape cassette player in my stereo and a glovebox that locked. Since the car was made in 1979...that was about it for the options. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Kj06G6k5pqM/TtotiI3iXvI/AAAAAAAABKE/srYV2IYYoSI/s1600/sunroof.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Kj06G6k5pqM/TtotiI3iXvI/AAAAAAAABKE/srYV2IYYoSI/s1600/sunroof.jpg" /></a></div><br />
But it was <i>my</i> first car and it got me where I needed to go...although I didn't quite arrive there in the style I would later become accustomed too. In the beginning, there was definitely a learning curve when it came to driving the standard. But over time, the more I did it...the better I got and the more I enjoyed it. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LAxMMci0e6Q/TtovIgrY3wI/AAAAAAAABKM/-Pv_MdeSWYU/s1600/driving.jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LAxMMci0e6Q/TtovIgrY3wI/AAAAAAAABKM/-Pv_MdeSWYU/s1600/driving.jpg.jpg" /></a></div><br />
A year and a half later, I got tired of my first car...and decided I needed a better car. Then I saw a white Volkswagen Cabriolet parked in an empty lot with a <i>For Sale</i> sign...and I became weak in the knees. Although I had only driven my Toyota at the time...I had always fantasized about owning a convertible! I sold my Toyota and went home with that cabriolet within two days. I know that seems like I was moving too fast...but I couldn't control my desire! <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mFEunL5-trY/TtovVq4vHfI/AAAAAAAABKU/UEeoKqWUnJQ/s1600/cabriolet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mFEunL5-trY/TtovVq4vHfI/AAAAAAAABKU/UEeoKqWUnJQ/s1600/cabriolet.jpg" /></a></div><br />
This car had so many more options than my previous car. Leather seats and a roof that came completely down. Again it was a standard, but that was an option I decided I liked and was glad to have again. I loved driving around in that car, and I can honestly say driving that car compared to my first car was a far more satisfying experience. I was sure I would have this car forever...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-coJIfAniOb8/TtowiQMXICI/AAAAAAAABKk/Bw3L0t5CCzc/s1600/convertible.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-coJIfAniOb8/TtowiQMXICI/AAAAAAAABKk/Bw3L0t5CCzc/s1600/convertible.jpg" /></a></div><br />
Three years later, my convertible was not as reliable as I had hoped it would be in the beginning. Sure it was good to drive, but the time and energy I had to put into this car was not worth those moments of bliss. I traded this car in for another. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FMObn4MieiA/TtoxTdMZ6sI/AAAAAAAABKs/_baYIa1GWVE/s1600/car+breakup.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="190" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FMObn4MieiA/TtoxTdMZ6sI/AAAAAAAABKs/_baYIa1GWVE/s320/car+breakup.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
When I look back at all of the cars I have driven....they have all been different, but have given me some great memories. Each time I get a new car, I opt for new options...or keep some of the same. Now as I am older...I drive a minivan around town. My minivan has all the options I need, but sometimes I look back and wonder what it would be like to once again drive a convertible. But I know that my minivan is reliable and the car for me. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4j2Pj9MK1SI/TtozDmLWWNI/AAAAAAAABK0/bOykGlosYHM/s1600/fantasy+car.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="206" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4j2Pj9MK1SI/TtozDmLWWNI/AAAAAAAABK0/bOykGlosYHM/s320/fantasy+car.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Why am I telling you about my "first car"? Because I am a true believer that cars are like sex. We all have memories of our "first car" and our 'first time". We probably look back upon that first car...much like our first time having sex. As great as that first car seemed...I wouldn't want it to be the only car I have ever driven. Just like sunroofs, heated leather seats, and power doors...there are many "options" when it comes to sex...and you need to experience some of these "options" to find out what works for you.<br />
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Although my convertible was AMAZING...I know I can be just as satisfied with the power-doors in my minivan. I once had heated seats (I believe you should try everything once)...but it was just an experimental phase I was going through. I am not ashamed of the times I rented a car for a day...and never looked back when I turned it in the following morning...maybe I was just using that rental car for my own personal needs? Of course I must point out that when driving random cars, safety is number one....ALWAYS USE A SEATBELT!!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Y1AQo-VuSAU/Tto5EhJW0EI/AAAAAAAABK8/NSGCLymEkZc/s1600/easy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Y1AQo-VuSAU/Tto5EhJW0EI/AAAAAAAABK8/NSGCLymEkZc/s1600/easy.jpg" /></a></div><br />
I applaud those who saved up their money until marriage before buying a car of their own....there must be joy in knowing you are the first one to drive the car, and there are no car payments attached. But how do you know that the car you are buying without a test-drive will be the most satisfying experience? Then again, if you have never driven another car...you will never know what you could be missing. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CCUjaMBw0nw/Tto6OEKVWKI/AAAAAAAABLE/rUZxX_-Eq08/s1600/usedcar.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="168" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CCUjaMBw0nw/Tto6OEKVWKI/AAAAAAAABLE/rUZxX_-Eq08/s200/usedcar.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br />
Which brings me to this....<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rSOtiDDVgLY/Tto-2hxmeVI/AAAAAAAABLM/7as2113LnV4/s1600/virgin+diaries.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rSOtiDDVgLY/Tto-2hxmeVI/AAAAAAAABLM/7as2113LnV4/s1600/virgin+diaries.jpg" /></a></div>Have you seen the promos for this new show? I am so excited I could pee in my pants! This looks like pure reality trash...and I love it! <br />
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Check out the promo for the show....<br />
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</center><center style="text-align: left;">TLC had me at the kiss...I will be definitely tuning into The Virgin Diaries Sunday night at 9/8 c. Will you?</center><center style="text-align: left;"><br />
</center><center style="text-align: left;">Just to make it even more exciting...I will be hosting a live chat right here on <a href="http://hockeywifetales.com/">Tales of a Hockey Wife</a>!! We can laugh, shudder and commentate our thoughts as we watch the premier of this new show.....</center><center style="text-align: left;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rd_u4Sn-jMI/TtpB9K97cNI/AAAAAAAABLU/EqzltTsgPKs/s1600/livechat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rd_u4Sn-jMI/TtpB9K97cNI/AAAAAAAABLU/EqzltTsgPKs/s1600/livechat.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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<center style="text-align: left;">So come back tomorrow night Sunday December 4, 2011 at 9:00 pm (Eastern) 8:00 pm (Central) and locate the Live chat on my sidebar.....pour a glass of wine and meet some great bloggers while watching The Virgin Diaries on TLC. If you don't have access to TLC come chat anyway. </center>Tales of a Hockey Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03556628136730377261noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8702110045907259617.post-84816610396699385292011-12-01T08:00:00.003-05:002011-12-01T08:52:32.986-05:00Can you really love your belly?Maybe some of you watched the Victoria Secret Fashion Show the other night...and are now feeling as though you should be looking like this.....<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XUQFuZI3Q9I/TtbuD2Aw5bI/AAAAAAAABI8/P8jQCnmesnY/s1600/vickies.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XUQFuZI3Q9I/TtbuD2Aw5bI/AAAAAAAABI8/P8jQCnmesnY/s1600/vickies.jpg" /></a></div>For some reason...this "fashion show" does not make me stop and wonder if they have that bra and pantie set in my size...instead it makes me feel as though I should not be wearing that at all!<br />
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We see the photos in the magazines and catalogs...then we feel inadequate because our stomachs are not toned, taut and flat. We feel ashamed to wear a swimsuit to the pool on a hot day...and we torment ourselves with diets and binges. <br />
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I am just as guilty...If you go back through my blog you will find many instances where I beat up on myself because I don't look like I stepped out of the pages of a lingerie ad. I have even been known to photoshop a hockey mask onto Janet Gretzky's body and "try" to pass it off as my own {GASP}! <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-d50pzucMhSE/Ttbvpe0RN0I/AAAAAAAABJE/202J1xY5PKk/s1600/gretzky.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-d50pzucMhSE/Ttbvpe0RN0I/AAAAAAAABJE/202J1xY5PKk/s1600/gretzky.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Do you ever wonder what pictures would look like if photoshop had never been invented? Oh wait...I think it would look something like this...</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MYpezIHV1yg/Ttb4qEH5c2I/AAAAAAAABJM/i7H4Bi6jwus/s1600/bellies.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MYpezIHV1yg/Ttb4qEH5c2I/AAAAAAAABJM/i7H4Bi6jwus/s1600/bellies.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Bathers</i> by Pierre-Auguste Renoir</td></tr>
</tbody></table>I wonder what Renoit's painting would look like today?<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zpFxMdyani4/Ttb9_ArWBHI/AAAAAAAABJU/RrEksk61a-Y/s1600/renoir.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zpFxMdyani4/Ttb9_ArWBHI/AAAAAAAABJU/RrEksk61a-Y/s320/renoir.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br />
</div><div><div>No wonder we all feel so bad about our bodies....we are being tricked into believing there is something wrong with ourselves. The reality is that there are a lot more of "us" than of "them"!!<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Have you seen this yet? It has been all over the internet the past few days....</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MkQdhPtIxT8/TtbsgOtYjaI/AAAAAAAABI0/gOO4ijzEo9k/s1600/bellies.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="157" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MkQdhPtIxT8/TtbsgOtYjaI/AAAAAAAABI0/gOO4ijzEo9k/s320/bellies.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Go on over to the <a href="http://www.xojane.com/fun/gallery/bellies-part-2">XOJANE</a> Real Girl Project and check out the 75 bellies proudly on display. These are actual bellies that have not been photoshopped. They represent what a majority of women's stomachs really look like. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Then join me for my new rally.....</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">OCCUPY VICTORIA'S SECRET</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-a_AFKkvFJm4/TtcAw85tP8I/AAAAAAAABJc/JVhXGRxShdc/s1600/99.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="233" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-a_AFKkvFJm4/TtcAw85tP8I/AAAAAAAABJc/JVhXGRxShdc/s320/99.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
</div></div></div>Tales of a Hockey Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03556628136730377261noreply@blogger.com9