tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-65827574346932854952024-03-21T14:11:26.810-07:00Brodie & The GirlsOne of the Girlshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01729367820558311428noreply@blogger.comBlogger32125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6582757434693285495.post-78076786557318007572010-05-11T13:58:00.000-07:002010-05-11T14:00:31.373-07:00A Question I Can't AnswerRiding in the car today on the way to dance class...<br /><br />L: Mom? How do you play with toys in heaven?<br /><br />M: Play with toys in heaven? Uh...I don't have that answer Lauren.<br /><br />L: *thinking* Maybe Jesus knows.<br /><br />M: Probably so.One of the Girlshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01729367820558311428noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6582757434693285495.post-60423526893648951922010-03-05T05:33:00.000-08:002010-03-05T05:38:22.156-08:00Lauren Talks About PlanetsThis morning, Lauren was having her breakfast and watching her favorite shows (on PBS). I walked in the room to check on her breakfast status (it IS a school morning!) and had the following conversation.<br /><br />L: Mom! Guess what? I know a planet!<br /><br />M: You do?! Which one?<br /><br />L: MARS!<br /><br />M: That's right! Mars is a planet.<br /><br />L: What's it like?<br /><br />M: *thinking back quickly to 4th grade science project* Well, it's really cold there.<br /><br />L: Yeah, I think it has snow there. I've seen it on one of Daddy's games.<br /><br />M: Hmmm...ok...<br /><br />L: Did you know there something strange about our planet Earth?<br /><br />M: No. What is strange about our planet?<br /><br />L: It only has ONE MOON! And in outer space there are lots of moons.<br /><br />M: That's right! What else do you know about space?<br /><br />L: That's some scary stuff out there...scary stuff like CATS!<br /><br />That's my girl.One of the Girlshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01729367820558311428noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6582757434693285495.post-10325504494456465262010-03-04T07:10:00.000-08:002010-03-04T08:41:41.755-08:00Love is in the air!Those who know me well, know that one of my greatest joys is my Bluebird Family. We've only lived in this house for a year, but somehow my bond with this particular family has been different from any other family I've "worked" with in the past. Daddy B. is extremely friendly and interested in me. Mama is a little more aloof, and let's Daddy do all the human socializing.<br /><br /><br />Daddy B. has been singing his sweet song for a few weeks now. This song signals the beginning of the long, arduous task of bringing new Bluebirds into this world. This singing is his way of marking boundary lines of claimed territory and telling other males to move on and find another yard!<br /><br /><br />Yesterday afternoon I was in the bedroom folding laundry and could hear him singing. He's been teasing me for weeks singing somewhere I can't SEE him. The moment I hear him I start looking out and up to see where he is. Yesterday was a treat! He was sitting in the backyard on my platform feeder, normally reserved for my "other" birds ("other" being those that eat SEED). I had placed several chunks of my homemade suet in the platform for the birds and he was helping himself to some morsels...even though he has his OWN bowl in the front yard!<br /><br /><br />The sun was shining and he was brilliantly blue. The blue of a Bluebird is breathtaking, especially in the sun. I RAN to get my camera to get some shots of him. Like I said, he's very friendly towards me and I know he sees me in the window. He came closer to the edge of the platform (closer to me) and looked as if he was posing. "Is this better?" as he would turn to the side. I even got some shots while he was singing (more puffed out in the chest). It was amazing.<br /><br /><br />At one point, I saw another male swooping in to land on the platform. In one swift motion, the other male landed and Daddy moved over to one of the crooks nearby. Seconds later, Mama B. landed beside him. I could tell by the behavior (of the new male and of Daddy) that this was one of the babies from the clutch born last summer. I can't wait to see the "kids" help Mom and Dad in this nesting process soon to start in the next couple weeks.<br /><br /><br />Take a look at some of these shots of my beautiful Bluebird Family!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDHJdVdNLm9yuH8GZwfl-H3BMpOuMU9jFq76OwwZ1K8kMCg8HCQydBIAh7EAEq8whzMYL4mWHuVFg_ooN7DpItz9uNwuLUPfZkL9N5qZA4OQtvnrb_RRzKInrbcyirtoFJyEZ_CZrXFNk/s1600-h/BluebirdFamily+03.04.2010+001_1.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444800211123548162" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDHJdVdNLm9yuH8GZwfl-H3BMpOuMU9jFq76OwwZ1K8kMCg8HCQydBIAh7EAEq8whzMYL4mWHuVFg_ooN7DpItz9uNwuLUPfZkL9N5qZA4OQtvnrb_RRzKInrbcyirtoFJyEZ_CZrXFNk/s320/BluebirdFamily+03.04.2010+001_1.jpg" /></a><br />Daddy B. checking out the food choices.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjeeTHUxFHWMLXhavW4R5wyNGaO7JSyr-NLEBZf0ZKLdMkz8-bhFBNYjBVEoLocodiolOCgMEkPdcrGK05o03sRuxuIhDvF43jX3bt-L808XPd-mAAuHA4lSE3Rh1cs20JPqSC_kK7bs8/s1600-h/BluebirdFamily+03.04.2010+003_1.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444800216111956914" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjeeTHUxFHWMLXhavW4R5wyNGaO7JSyr-NLEBZf0ZKLdMkz8-bhFBNYjBVEoLocodiolOCgMEkPdcrGK05o03sRuxuIhDvF43jX3bt-L808XPd-mAAuHA4lSE3Rh1cs20JPqSC_kK7bs8/s320/BluebirdFamily+03.04.2010+003_1.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9nN26wV88LmxGPn9r6YedLa-V-kmjFw7mTpIffhrGsLqSIeCEhp5_EwYMfkSkA8xaSMwHXkedt98SfPG44v0WQstnmGBora9A8Q9WsKEOPfpW-mJiTDbtQAucMUIYykM6Kg4S6vf4H6g/s1600-h/BluebirdFamily+03.04.2010+005_1.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444800220320795570" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9nN26wV88LmxGPn9r6YedLa-V-kmjFw7mTpIffhrGsLqSIeCEhp5_EwYMfkSkA8xaSMwHXkedt98SfPG44v0WQstnmGBora9A8Q9WsKEOPfpW-mJiTDbtQAucMUIYykM6Kg4S6vf4H6g/s320/BluebirdFamily+03.04.2010+005_1.jpg" /></a> Daddy B. singing (note the puffed out chest)<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7MHybnl3iLwI68ApfJXRVOhTCSaO7nR_cxSN_CaTWvGbMe3fBVr_RL-ejxX_Z2TegO492FdeO2d2hnTOw__p4kjkbjky00bFrag9shJRdDsiDegfgf006x6Jd9LC5K1pNpXKBCZXIKv4/s1600-h/BluebirdFamily+03.04.2010+007_1.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444808668348122114" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7MHybnl3iLwI68ApfJXRVOhTCSaO7nR_cxSN_CaTWvGbMe3fBVr_RL-ejxX_Z2TegO492FdeO2d2hnTOw__p4kjkbjky00bFrag9shJRdDsiDegfgf006x6Jd9LC5K1pNpXKBCZXIKv4/s320/BluebirdFamily+03.04.2010+007_1.jpg" /></a> Daddy B. coming closer and giving me his best side.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCw67OTqFMP04_7gSEXLlf5uyEDrOJ0eK08P24ZkmqzBy206UV8w4BSjmwJWWxvjjYXV9ueNqwVG5OznSTTQadNS7Xx3Ccj3fvRqDB1Iqhj5gGZ1OSMpV_PXmjY0g6yP8ZGw6KCNTx2Pg/s1600-h/BluebirdFamily+03.04.2010+011_1.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444808673000319170" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCw67OTqFMP04_7gSEXLlf5uyEDrOJ0eK08P24ZkmqzBy206UV8w4BSjmwJWWxvjjYXV9ueNqwVG5OznSTTQadNS7Xx3Ccj3fvRqDB1Iqhj5gGZ1OSMpV_PXmjY0g6yP8ZGw6KCNTx2Pg/s320/BluebirdFamily+03.04.2010+011_1.jpg" /></a> Baby B., actually I guess he's just Young Boy B. these days!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFM49EShPC-RLnVkvVsWyZwGRfIu7xZ0gkWgL4feRAjnN16gRrzN9Ipk7qSihR6shRa5_a0LbgxPCL0I9VAbv2MU_qTHbO8Qe5-3SBlN37Xm5QbczTDQV19mLRXukOs78TzYTNylN5n8w/s1600-h/BluebirdFamily+03.04.2010+012_1.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444808677100903746" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFM49EShPC-RLnVkvVsWyZwGRfIu7xZ0gkWgL4feRAjnN16gRrzN9Ipk7qSihR6shRa5_a0LbgxPCL0I9VAbv2MU_qTHbO8Qe5-3SBlN37Xm5QbczTDQV19mLRXukOs78TzYTNylN5n8w/s320/BluebirdFamily+03.04.2010+012_1.jpg" /></a> Mama B. and her son enjoying a suet snack. That's a big chunk Mama's got!<br /><br /><br /></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div align="left">Those of you that have followed my Bluebird Obsession will remember Daddy B. scaring and delighting me by landing on the french doors that are inside my screened porch. Well, HE'S BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK... This morning I saw something out of the corner of my eye and looked more closely to find Daddy B. fluttering around on the porch. He landed on the door handle and was peeking in. I walked right up to the door and said, "Good Morning Daddy B.! Is there something I can help you with?" I got the camera and snapped some pictures and then got a bowl of some suet cake to take out front to his bowl.<br /><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWAjaYtC5iyKIUY65xdoaX8s_7tVN9JOSjpe11wguyRs-fwajkiMj1LfgS85m9XSzvp75IqNZJNpNboxq-EMH4Ok-a63dt0M-sADr_EDFehamWBBBNWukatVU3GfAyibWdcYWGslugnqM/s1600-h/BluebirdFamily+03.04.2010+019_1.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444808681589194386" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWAjaYtC5iyKIUY65xdoaX8s_7tVN9JOSjpe11wguyRs-fwajkiMj1LfgS85m9XSzvp75IqNZJNpNboxq-EMH4Ok-a63dt0M-sADr_EDFehamWBBBNWukatVU3GfAyibWdcYWGslugnqM/s320/BluebirdFamily+03.04.2010+019_1.jpg" /></a> Daddy B. is training me early this year. "Ahem. Miss? Our bowl needs refilling."<br /><br /><br /></div><div></div><div align="left">The second he heard the front door open, I saw his shadow fluttering on the corner of the house. I looked up and saw him sitting on the gutter. He flew right up to me as I was putting the food in the bowl and I thought he was going to land on the crook right there with me!! He made a last minute change and flew up to the branch directly over my head. He's getting brave this year! As I walked back in the house, I caught his reflection in the storm door...he'd already landed on the bowl and was grabbing a bite. I looked out the window after I got back inside and he had flown up into the tree with a morsel for his sweet wife, Mama B. He's wooing her. Love is definitely in the air!<br /></div></div>One of the Girlshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01729367820558311428noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6582757434693285495.post-72412243446339827852010-02-23T17:06:00.000-08:002010-02-23T17:19:57.289-08:00Not everyone loves baconTonight I had grand plans to take the family out to dinner at IHOP. Today is "National Pancake Day" and therefore IHOP was offering a plate of three pancakes to each customer for free. OK, so fast-forward...we went to TWO different IHOPs only to find them completely packed and even overflowing with people into the parking lot waiting for some FREE pancakes.<br /><br />*sigh* Never fear, I had a back-up plan...Cracker Barrell. Chad is not a huge fan of "Breakfast for Dinner" but Lauren and I could eat breakfast for ALL meals. My mind and tummy were all set for breakfast, so Cracker Barrell was a good plan.<br /><br />Lauren and I each ordered pancakes. Lauren also got a side order of bacon. Anyone who has spent ANY time with Lauren knows that this kid would give up a lot in her life before she'd EVER consider giving up bacon. She's a lot like those dogs in the commercial for "Beggin' Strips"<br /><br /><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CErapf79rqM">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CErapf79rqM</a><br /><br />Tonight at supper, the waiter came to the table and asked if he could take Lauren's bacon plate. We all looked at him like he was insane. Couldn't he SEE it still had 3/4 of the slice left??? Chad said, "We would NEVER take bacon away from this kid."<br /><br />After the waiter left, we were talking to Lauren about bacon and about how much she LOVES bacon.<br /><br />She sat and gnawed on her bacon slice for a bit and then...<br /><br />L: Dad? Not everyone likes bacon.<br /><br />C: Yeah...<br /><br />L: That's kinda sad isn't it?<br /><br />Out of the mouth of our babe. Yes Lauren, believe it or not, not everyone loves bacon. And yes, that is kinda sad.One of the Girlshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01729367820558311428noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6582757434693285495.post-90490377734244526692010-02-09T08:28:00.000-08:002010-02-09T08:43:11.173-08:00Boys are all the same...I say to my friends and to myself all the time how THANKFUL I am that I have a little girl. I hear stories (some horrific, some hilarious) about the antics my friends' sons are up to. Whew! Everytime I hear a story I think, "HOLY COW! MY CHILD WOULDN'T DREAM OF DOING THAT!"<br /><br />And then...<br /><br />...I got a little boy dog. His name is Finnegan.<br /><br />Finnegan may be a dog. But he is A BOY. He's clumsy and spontaneous. He chews on metal and brick. He chases birds relentlessly and honestly believes he's going to catch one if he just runs a <em>little</em> faster next time. He jumps fearlessly from one of piece of furniture to another. Sometimes he makes it, lots of times he doesn't. He falls down between couch cushions, he falls off tables. He's CONSTANTLY knocking stuff over with his POUNCING nature.<br /><br /><br /><br />I hear stories all the time about my friends' sons that are climbers. Thankfully Lauren was NEVER a climber, so it was never an issue. Again, I think, "WOW, Lauren would NEVER do that..."<br /><br /><br /><br />But now...I've got my own boy. And canine or human, boys are all the same.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpjdqg0fa1s4oTkyWljV9UrLG3hVQZN4LMIbeyzsL2H1J5RKUBtHAh5j9ck_QutIAx2rEJ6K2SjRxYgsbnPZPlXY22ld07YMNTtV3UbFwgC8nJPdTGufFkdDtH8TSin6uCQK9vC1kQP-0/s1600-h/Naughty+Finnegan.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 252px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436284071263268434" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpjdqg0fa1s4oTkyWljV9UrLG3hVQZN4LMIbeyzsL2H1J5RKUBtHAh5j9ck_QutIAx2rEJ6K2SjRxYgsbnPZPlXY22ld07YMNTtV3UbFwgC8nJPdTGufFkdDtH8TSin6uCQK9vC1kQP-0/s320/Naughty+Finnegan.jpg" /></a><br /><div></div>And yes, that's my dining room table.<br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div>One of the Girlshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01729367820558311428noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6582757434693285495.post-41291302492030126452010-01-30T10:02:00.000-08:002010-01-30T10:17:10.235-08:00A History Lesson by Lauren ReevesYesterday afternoon I picked Lauren up from school and as usual, asked her what she did that day and what they talked about. I had NO IDEA I was about to get a history lesson on holidays in February...<br /><br />M: Did you have a good day at school?<br /><br />L: Yes.<br /><br />M: What did you all talk about today?<br /><br />L: Well on Valentine's Day lots of people died.<br /><br />M: Who died? (not quite prepared for THAT bit of history)<br /><br />L: Those people. A long, long time ago. They died on Valentine's Day.<br /><br />M: OH! The Valentine's Day Massacre? (what the HECK did Ms. Carrie teach them??)<br /><br />L: Yeah. That.<br /><br />M: Yes, that's true. Lots of people did die.<br /><br />L: Yeah, and now they are on coins and stuff. Like the quarter and the penny.<br /><br />M: The WHAT? (*commence racing mind to figure out what in the world she's talking about*)<br /><br />L: The coins. You know, money. The quarter and the penny. They are on those.<br /><br />M: Ohhhhhhhhhhhh...Washington and Lincoln?<br /><br />L: Yes. Them.<br /><br />M: I see. Wow, that's really interesting.<br /><br />Oh how easily information gets jumbled in a little ones head. I had no idea that Presidents' Day and Valentine's Day were somehow...related?<br /><br />And there you have it. A history lesson by Lauren Reeves.One of the Girlshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01729367820558311428noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6582757434693285495.post-37933332607911372952010-01-28T07:31:00.001-08:002010-01-28T07:39:02.191-08:00A Lesson on PollenLauren has been happily playing in the playroom all morning while I've been working on the computer (managing blogs and Etsy shops can be quite time-consuming!). I can typically expect visits from Lauren every 30 minutes or so. Just checking in, or requesting a drink, showing me a piece of art, asking me a question, etc. Sometimes I feel like her visits are just attempts to scramble my brain and keep me on my toes.<br /><br />Enter Lauren.<br /><br />L: Mom? Is pollen a berry?<br /><br />M: Ummmm...no...not really, it's uh... (frantically wanting to look up P-O-L-L-E-N on the internet so I can have a definitive answer)<br /><br />L: Well, pollen can be a musical instrument.<br /><br />M: A what? (commence rapid blinking and confused look)<br /><br />L: A guitar has flowers on it.<br /><br />M: *more blinking* OK... (I swear I really am trying to keep up with this thought process)<br /><br />L: ...and well the flowers kinda smell like pollen...<br /><br />M: *silence* (I got nothin')<br /><br />L: Pollen can get you sick if you smell too much of it.<br /><br />M: Yes, I suppose that's true...<br /><br />L: BYE!<br /><br />Exit Lauren.<br /><br />Success. Brain scrambled.One of the Girlshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01729367820558311428noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6582757434693285495.post-16880213284028082542010-01-05T13:40:00.000-08:002010-01-05T13:44:58.678-08:00The Art of Multi-tasking by Lauren ReevesScene opens with Lauren walking down the hall wearing nothing but a shirt (bare bottom)...<br /><br />L: Mom? Where's your floss?<br /><br />M: *blink* Where are your pants?<br /><br />L: Where is your floss?<br /><br />M: Lauren! Why don't you have any pants on?<br /><br />L: BECAUSE I WAS POOPING!<br /><br />M: Allright then why do you need floss? *bracing myself for the answer*<br /><br />L: BECAUSE I HAVE PORK CHOP STUCK IN MY TEETH. *exasperated*<br /><br />So there you have it. My little multi-tasker...flossing and pooping at the same time - well, if she could've found the floss.One of the Girlshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01729367820558311428noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6582757434693285495.post-16771882027657268012009-12-10T12:01:00.000-08:002009-12-10T12:16:29.303-08:00Today's AchievementMy Dearest Jennie is an excellent cake decorator and was contracted by me to bake an Angelina Ballerina cake for Lauren's 4<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">th</span> birthday in November. The cake was absolutely FLAWLESS and beyond my wildest expectations. In exchange for making the cake, Jennie asked if I would make a set of blank cards to give to her cousin as a Christmas gift. <br /><br />It seems like I've been procrastinating on getting these cards completed, but in reality, I find if I let a card idea come to me in sort of a <em>vision</em> I am more inspired and motivated to work on the project. The inspiration started to appear over the weekend when I made one card using a gorgeous stamp set I love called "Pretty Peony" and then stamped a quote on top of the flower. I wanted to try to use various flowers on all the cards but wasn't sure how I was going to tie them all together so that the set wasn't just a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">hodge</span> <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">podge</span> of random cards. The finally "<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">tah</span>-<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">dah</span>!" moment came yesterday when I found myself staring off into space trying to envision the cards...<br /><br /><em>What if I use the same flower stamp over and over and only change the color scheme and quote...?</em><br /><br />Today I whipped out all ten of them. I'm in love. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">Whattya</span> think?<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEginMsutNCjProrJkHUUdLL2AIwODQH2q2aMUN6C1Ptrug_0dug6iXC1dKYm6PO2q4LRQjYpXtMYELSk8DvSqhdMXdtJdwLKCr2M1B3ryZ_gNbdT-unVG95p4C3Zpcwh8bWbdrSSHBn350/s1600-h/Jennie'sCards+018_1.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413702098793144786" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEginMsutNCjProrJkHUUdLL2AIwODQH2q2aMUN6C1Ptrug_0dug6iXC1dKYm6PO2q4LRQjYpXtMYELSk8DvSqhdMXdtJdwLKCr2M1B3ryZ_gNbdT-unVG95p4C3Zpcwh8bWbdrSSHBn350/s320/Jennie'sCards+018_1.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlI-fE-Qi7qEdfBqcYBDEHiWxUFOnq5Mj1_0mr8GMB4e27CCH9BdiYrDT7c3Bart6x0JtDJqhrTKvyPesBSzEEEK3LVdjfsTz6Qu8vTEQ0X-tAHwFgsogiyJqP-Al0Kg2zLtKDUKcY0HI/s1600-h/Jennie'sCards+016_1.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413702098285226450" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlI-fE-Qi7qEdfBqcYBDEHiWxUFOnq5Mj1_0mr8GMB4e27CCH9BdiYrDT7c3Bart6x0JtDJqhrTKvyPesBSzEEEK3LVdjfsTz6Qu8vTEQ0X-tAHwFgsogiyJqP-Al0Kg2zLtKDUKcY0HI/s320/Jennie'sCards+016_1.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1iEBXbEWZWOplR8hysrP8EE_fKpNK_A8631vPS716OuqFUHCbFCxAxoWJ6MaACMv76IPk8Favulzvk3E_ltAiOriEY716YrDWGUuFbB1sXqyk3wOQ4Bv_xQHHUwq0WC7eBiOATa8hLQY/s1600-h/Jennie'sCards+014_1.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413702097170825698" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1iEBXbEWZWOplR8hysrP8EE_fKpNK_A8631vPS716OuqFUHCbFCxAxoWJ6MaACMv76IPk8Favulzvk3E_ltAiOriEY716YrDWGUuFbB1sXqyk3wOQ4Bv_xQHHUwq0WC7eBiOATa8hLQY/s320/Jennie'sCards+014_1.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAQ1voROBe1THtQ89IDF6btst9aR0NphRd4cIEuUlLPvu5y1bjWBKEc0rxct2ktdwlRmsjrDqgRxvdVwOua8lyMEPJZ2Se0tBDxpaSFREQqUoHO54Tg9hugI4-o05slAD9tFOgktuwIV4/s1600-h/Jennie'sCards+013_1.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413702091123001682" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAQ1voROBe1THtQ89IDF6btst9aR0NphRd4cIEuUlLPvu5y1bjWBKEc0rxct2ktdwlRmsjrDqgRxvdVwOua8lyMEPJZ2Se0tBDxpaSFREQqUoHO54Tg9hugI4-o05slAD9tFOgktuwIV4/s320/Jennie'sCards+013_1.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6pm7LbJjVUajoh0FMToKM4WwnHY1EPBudO0dz1bh8m0qcs3g1qMz2JLw1UHk2mM62cDyNc9Oba63XlRDZWRDKgJxO_IEOdsc1LsLkQsuZ3QrRWT_pwTCsbA0MgJGvA90-rErhyR3Tvm8/s1600-h/Jennie'sCards+011_1.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413702088488295442" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6pm7LbJjVUajoh0FMToKM4WwnHY1EPBudO0dz1bh8m0qcs3g1qMz2JLw1UHk2mM62cDyNc9Oba63XlRDZWRDKgJxO_IEOdsc1LsLkQsuZ3QrRWT_pwTCsbA0MgJGvA90-rErhyR3Tvm8/s320/Jennie'sCards+011_1.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8KwyWs6T7aqNtg9rf_X0RzSNQegCEuLkbsKz7kXX9QJfb_I9Bkar20Nfywuj3CGLG5ecxd4rvrZTbhjF8K4Yjs-vT1udsExb9tizNLQRuIIf2jn-QlK1oNMp06TEYBr6f0BnN-w1LaLE/s1600-h/Jennie'sCards+009_1.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413701766909388674" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8KwyWs6T7aqNtg9rf_X0RzSNQegCEuLkbsKz7kXX9QJfb_I9Bkar20Nfywuj3CGLG5ecxd4rvrZTbhjF8K4Yjs-vT1udsExb9tizNLQRuIIf2jn-QlK1oNMp06TEYBr6f0BnN-w1LaLE/s320/Jennie'sCards+009_1.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkb62t7sm1N_pQUWkB1vl8HQiar_CwQvEnluMXiO_wZhSz8G58_UJNYt4RW_kGpzMSs-h5HgIzrh_TYDgSxdQSnjQi659S_ihXmydrsqYtE_3bd9Z7O05MLtt9vE93369mS2QDdgONP-s/s1600-h/Jennie'sCards+007_1.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413701761516306498" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkb62t7sm1N_pQUWkB1vl8HQiar_CwQvEnluMXiO_wZhSz8G58_UJNYt4RW_kGpzMSs-h5HgIzrh_TYDgSxdQSnjQi659S_ihXmydrsqYtE_3bd9Z7O05MLtt9vE93369mS2QDdgONP-s/s320/Jennie'sCards+007_1.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7n-vumue6ObZyKihbxkVJVXp6O_uFfriePl95hrz_KpeABzKhaYPV7Cffn8k9HZ5nx17jZe9cdDAkljjE-necquOHCztBQCfcDpDFQjRbcwmaC4gRdcbOb1a3ltytaQ-PkxwR5L7WJZo/s1600-h/Jennie'sCards+006_1.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413701754869055090" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7n-vumue6ObZyKihbxkVJVXp6O_uFfriePl95hrz_KpeABzKhaYPV7Cffn8k9HZ5nx17jZe9cdDAkljjE-necquOHCztBQCfcDpDFQjRbcwmaC4gRdcbOb1a3ltytaQ-PkxwR5L7WJZo/s320/Jennie'sCards+006_1.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5K6XiGc5IQuQzOWvrTtx3I-1FmMdANvd6GdWQIuTtKX5PV-anS8-DYP-Gqki-EGV1l-Myda4oft9rfaWS2qnytTnENkCeK48Wehsi4ZKj_NOgwuRnrP7wmSaHpTNRBEaYpKZJRnsArpo/s1600-h/Jennie'sCards+005_1.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413701752768415074" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5K6XiGc5IQuQzOWvrTtx3I-1FmMdANvd6GdWQIuTtKX5PV-anS8-DYP-Gqki-EGV1l-Myda4oft9rfaWS2qnytTnENkCeK48Wehsi4ZKj_NOgwuRnrP7wmSaHpTNRBEaYpKZJRnsArpo/s320/Jennie'sCards+005_1.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxu0CQ2p8HYKLCBADcDrFAjMo7qhiJ1ofES3Sgqg9KW3NyW9qvS-f73-nq7HbtnMJjsPHvONSAZOeDMB9P1kDN5tzQ8vt_SmhBe1oGrIJj4wyeRESVgr_oKk6V5NJYB07lHKp2orsJXac/s1600-h/Jennie'sCards+004_1.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413701746728657698" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxu0CQ2p8HYKLCBADcDrFAjMo7qhiJ1ofES3Sgqg9KW3NyW9qvS-f73-nq7HbtnMJjsPHvONSAZOeDMB9P1kDN5tzQ8vt_SmhBe1oGrIJj4wyeRESVgr_oKk6V5NJYB07lHKp2orsJXac/s320/Jennie'sCards+004_1.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>One of the Girlshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01729367820558311428noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6582757434693285495.post-6340998969423271672009-12-10T08:39:00.000-08:002009-12-10T08:43:29.546-08:00What about Bach?Lauren enters the room where I'm fixing her lunch...<br /><br />L: Mom, Johann Sebastian Bob is a show.<br /><br />M: Johann Sebastian <em>Bach</em>? Well, he was a composer. He wrote classical music.<br /><br />L: No, Johann Sebastian BOB. Not BACH silly...<br /><br />M: No, it's BACH.<br /><br />L: *sigh* No Mom, it's BOB. Like BOB THE TOMATO.<br /><br />Exit Lauren.One of the Girlshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01729367820558311428noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6582757434693285495.post-77270665522878379172009-12-04T19:19:00.000-08:002009-12-04T19:44:28.629-08:00Conversations in a CarThere's really no back story to this entry, just a normal day with Lauren. She and I were in the car running errands. The following are three separate (yet somehow all strangely linked - you wait, you'll see the connections) conversations we had during our drive.<br /><br />L: Mom, Mrs. Claus is Santa's Mommy.<br /><br />M: No, she is his wife.<br /><br />L: No. Mommy.<br /><br />M: No Lauren, she is Santa's wife.<br /><br />L: No MOM, she is his MOMMY.<br /><br />I proceed to <em>attempt</em> to straighten out all the confusion by making comparisons.<br /><br />M: Who is Granny?<br /><br />L: Daddy's Momma.<br /><br />M: Right! So is Granny Daddy's wife?<br /><br />L: YES!<br /><br />M: No! Granny isn't Daddy's wife. MOMMY is Daddy's wife. Am I Daddy's Mommy?<br /><br />L: Your Daddy...<br /><br />M: My Daddy what?<br /><br />L: Your Daddy loves you...<br /><br />M: *blink* *blink* Yes...yes...he does...<br /><br />And that was the end of that conversation. It ended just as confusing as it began.<br /><br />While she and I were at lunch together, we were taking turns telling each other stories. I was telling stories about a silly little boy named Finnegan and all the mischievious things he got into. Her stories seemed to always have monsters and scary things in them. We'll address that in some later post...<br /><br />After lunch, she wanted to continue with the storytelling. Well, she wanted <em>me</em> to continue with <em>my</em> storytelling. She wanted me to tell a Christmas story. So I thought I would tell THE Christmas story. I'm describing Mary and Joseph and Gabriel and get to the part about the travel to Bethlehem... at this point, Lauren gets very excited and I'm excited because I know she's starting to recognize the story...<br /><br />L: Bethlehem! That's like that boy...that boy!!!!<br /><br />M: (I'm beaming. I'm so proud. It<em> is </em>like that boy. That boy Jesus...)<br /><br />L: That boy...BUFFALO!!! <br /><br />M: *completely flabbergasted* BUFFALO?<br /><br />L: Yeah!!! Little Buffalo!!!!<br /><br />All I could do was laugh. I laughed and I laughed and I laughed...<br /><br />Third conversation...approximately 10-15 minutes later...as we were walking into the bank...<br /><br />L: Mom, is Jesus real?<br /><br />M: *pausing...thinking...* Well...yes...he lived a long time ago...<br /><br />L: Where is he now?<br /><br />M: He's in heaven. He's in heaven with God.<br /><br />L: *nodding and understanding* OH! Jesus is God's wife I guess...<br /><br />M: *puzzled* Nooo...(here we go again with the mixed up family relations) Jesus is God's son.<br /><br />L: No...WIFE.<br /><br />M: No Lauren, his SON.<br /><br />She gets slightly distracted and announces that Christmas is Jesus' birthday. I'm excited because I think we're back on track. She tells me that Ms. Carrie taught them that at school. <br /><br />M: Did you tell Ms. Carrie we have a birthday cake on Christmas morning for Jesus' birthday?!<br /><br />L: Noooo...<br /><br />M: Yeah! Remember? We have a birthday cake for Jesus and we eat it Christmas morning!<br /><br />L: Mom. Why do we have cake? Jesus won't BE there. *exasperated*<br /><br />Ahhhh yes. THESE are the conversations we have. Conversations that provoke deep thought and lots of confusion. Welcome to my world.One of the Girlshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01729367820558311428noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6582757434693285495.post-2190246403070631862009-12-02T14:24:00.000-08:002009-12-02T16:05:57.458-08:00Mom! Do you know how pigs eat?I'm sitting here enjoying a quiet moment to myself when Lauren comes bursting into the room shouting, "MOM! DO YOU KNOW HOW PIGS EAT?"<br /><br />Oh this oughta be good...<br /><br />M: How do pigs eat?<br /><br />L: Their momma lays sideways...and the babies eat...they chew on these little circles on the momma...<br /><br />M: (oh DEAR, I had no idea she was talking about how BABY pigs eat or else I never would have asked!) They are drinking milk.<br /><br />L: *blank stare* Oh, like cows?<br /><br />M: Uh...yeah. Those "circles" are their boobies.<br /><br />L: *blink* (as she glances at my boobs) Yeah, well, that's how the pigs eat their breakfast. It doesn't hurt the Momma...at all...<br /><br />And she gallops out of the room.<br /><br />I'm sure this one will swish around in her brain for a bit and float back up at the most inopportune time.One of the Girlshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01729367820558311428noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6582757434693285495.post-74572790944720891772009-11-07T08:06:00.000-08:002009-11-07T08:24:12.120-08:00Sometimes it just doesn't make senseI'm working on cards this morning sitting at my desk and Lauren decided to join me. She came in the room with some paper and her box of crafting supplies. She requested I play a particular playlist on my iPod and I <em>thought</em> we were all settled down to craft...<br /><br />I was wrong...<br /><br />I pressed play on the iPod and the moment the first song started playing Lauren jumped up...<br /><br />L: OH! I better go get the umbrella!!<br /><br />M: *puzzled look* What for?<br /><br />L: *exasperated sigh* So I can sit on the quilt with the Barney puzzle!<br /><br />M: *blink blink*<br /><br />Sometimes things in my world just don't make sense.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvMERipjFvwkeSdTcIhBvchBTqLdRW5NLp28O-C32hy7BqTfeVNwcDis8ZTNhisf7v6hxxVakXcpRhX1yeRLg655eW7fHldLVdqrzAXXycGXmuLdtzt04VAy7foBlXrCUlL4ICpq_lezM/s1600-h/Quilts+and+Umbrellas.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401395619231858226" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvMERipjFvwkeSdTcIhBvchBTqLdRW5NLp28O-C32hy7BqTfeVNwcDis8ZTNhisf7v6hxxVakXcpRhX1yeRLg655eW7fHldLVdqrzAXXycGXmuLdtzt04VAy7foBlXrCUlL4ICpq_lezM/s320/Quilts+and+Umbrellas.jpg" /></a>One of the Girlshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01729367820558311428noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6582757434693285495.post-43531799025360257002009-11-05T07:33:00.000-08:002009-11-05T08:03:09.463-08:00Mommy's Little Hercules...errrr...Helper...Oh little girls are such a joy. Really, they are! However, sometimes my child exhibits some "boy" traits that catch me off guard and sometimes even delight me.<br /><br />Lauren and I popped into the grocery store this morning to buy one thing. A gallon of milk. We trek to the back of the store to get the milk and Lauren insists on carrying it to the front of the store. I tell her that it's extremely heavy and would probably be pretty tricky. I should mention here that in our family, we try not to say the word "hard" but use "tricky" instead. She says, "I can do it Mom!" I throw caution to the wind and hand the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">uber</span> heavy gallon of milk over to her. She takes the milk with a loud grunt and tries to get a good grip on it while shifting it around between her wee hands. I suddenly have a Mom Memory of another mom friend telling a tale of "...one time he threw a gallon of milk out of the grocery cart and it busted and spewed milk everywhere..." My MOM ALARM starts sounding, "WARNING! WARNING! POTENTIAL MILK CATASTROPHE! TAKE THE MILK BACK! FOR GOD'S SAKE WHAT ARE YOU THINKING?" So I gently take the milk back and we head to the front of the store to pay.<br /><br />All the way up to the front of the store, Lauren is telling me how strong she is and that carrying the milk for me would be no problem.<br /><br />We pay. We proceed to bag up the milk (self-checkout of course!) and start to leave the store. Lauren again insists she can carry the milk. I double bag it and say, "OK, give it a try..."<br /><br />She struggles. She grunts. She's determined. The self-checkout attendant smiles and stifles her laughter as Lauren goes struggling towards the door.<br /><br />Lauren tries sliding the loops of the plastic grocery bag up over her wrist. We've all tried this. It results in immediate sensation loss to your hand. She figures this out quickly and tries holding the loops with both hands but the milk is clunking into her thighs and knees. She stops and tries heaving the bag up onto her shoulder, like a purse. Again, immediate sensation loss to not just her hand this time, but her entire arm.<br /><br />While I'm watching all this and trying to coax her across the parking lot, I keep saying, "Hey, do you need some help? Why don't you let Mom carry it the rest of the way...?" To which she keeps saying, in a winded voice, "No...Mom...*grunt*...I'm strong...*grunt*...I can do it...*grunt*"<br /><br />And sure enough, she did. She IS strong.<br /><br />Thanks to the nice camera on my new phone I was able to capture this Herculean moment.<br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpodrd5Vpm66QXlr5bq8LlefmqsJn8xz9ouaA-wVi65bdyDmz_p9FNOY-m81Yhyphenhypheno05Mj1ENe0tRnW-DSb9KIz62Fjc57brgkm982oI3Uhtz-vtyl4UtI9LZQrR-kAiPNVKyZifGhP9QRM/s1600-h/Lauren+the+STrong_1.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400645538238869170" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpodrd5Vpm66QXlr5bq8LlefmqsJn8xz9ouaA-wVi65bdyDmz_p9FNOY-m81Yhyphenhypheno05Mj1ENe0tRnW-DSb9KIz62Fjc57brgkm982oI3Uhtz-vtyl4UtI9LZQrR-kAiPNVKyZifGhP9QRM/s320/Lauren+the+STrong_1.jpg" /></a>She's saying through labored breathing, "Mom...I think I see the car..." as if it's miles away, when in reality it was only two more cars down from where she was standing.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6l-OhWjdY1SWCYRT1GQY1vBPHF9BO3rBjwk6SbnwBMHpg5PNoJgCdzZEq3nHFsldKj-c9RrIVRcK8JEh9ukOxlOhRTj4XVEl8I6MsSMHW8wvab8kGSKB1LYA1ZPe-J5HGjipS6ZCDU_M/s1600-h/Lauren+the+Strong_2.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400645533170380818" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6l-OhWjdY1SWCYRT1GQY1vBPHF9BO3rBjwk6SbnwBMHpg5PNoJgCdzZEq3nHFsldKj-c9RrIVRcK8JEh9ukOxlOhRTj4XVEl8I6MsSMHW8wvab8kGSKB1LYA1ZPe-J5HGjipS6ZCDU_M/s320/Lauren+the+Strong_2.jpg" /></a> Taking a little breathing break. But almost there!<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe9OA3u-tIC3Q98XXHdJv8D9z12bPWMCRt-EI3mbuU5GTPI2c6SMtwvJZdGzxh1GZXLyH3OiyM3hAbZ1cX0etMlG1nsug8dvg7dHL-oeuEauW6NMyYXBTND-04tqzN5NH6X96n7lM0Agw/s1600-h/Lauren+the+Strong_3.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400645529615423490" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe9OA3u-tIC3Q98XXHdJv8D9z12bPWMCRt-EI3mbuU5GTPI2c6SMtwvJZdGzxh1GZXLyH3OiyM3hAbZ1cX0etMlG1nsug8dvg7dHL-oeuEauW6NMyYXBTND-04tqzN5NH6X96n7lM0Agw/s320/Lauren+the+Strong_3.jpg" /></a> Final HEAVE! HO! into the car.<br /><br /><br /><div></div></div></div>One of the Girlshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01729367820558311428noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6582757434693285495.post-49206005436406108732009-10-31T13:05:00.000-07:002009-10-31T13:22:35.381-07:00Happy HalloweenLast year we visited a local pumpkin patch to purchase the perfect pumpkin for carving. We promptly brought the pumpkin home and used our handy dandy pumpkin carving kit, complete with carving patterns to make an amazingly awesome pumpkin. This was around October 10th or so. By October 31st our pumpkin had become...a Petri dish.<br /><br /><br /><br />Petri dish <em>noun</em><br /><br />1. a shallow glass dish with a loose-fitting lid, used to culture bacteria.<br /><br /><br /><br />So it wasn't a glass dish, but a pumpkin, and certainly had a loose-fitting pumpkin lid and DEFINITELY cultured some bacteria. The pumpkin was more frightening than we'd anticipated and was disposed of before nightfall.<br /><br /><br /><br />This year, we took a different approach. The pumpkin wasn't even purchased until October 30th and carved this morning, October 31st. Lauren and I selected the perfect pumpkin for carving and Chad and Lauren searched the internet for suitable patterns to use. In the end, after much deliberation, a pattern was selected, "The Spooky Goblin."<br /><br /><br /><br />While searching for patterns online, Chad read some helpful hints about pumpkin carving. Tips on how to preserve your pumpkin...you know, tips for preventing the Petri Dish effect or at least slowing that process down, that involved washing the pumpkin and spraying it with Lysol.<br /><br /><br /><br />Chad did the initial cutting and scraping of the inside of the pumpkin and put Lauren to work cleaning out all the seeds and "guts." She was a very willing and helpful participant! We were entertained the whole time because she kept saying, "This is DIS-GUSTING. This is REALLY DIS-GUSTING..." but loved every bit of the process.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWHVP7hk3L-z0XBFLVwXKZvJgb57rIrH88QC-oMu3cBxBcaVrvkZcDfRcvMsMLtpAciuMCLR5jssw9gNJmku2WYNwR9fF3_XLtf9xtSe57xFQ6jWXvsa5z1yvycVzsn4qq02icYM8ztVk/s1600-h/carving+1.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398858495098095154" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWHVP7hk3L-z0XBFLVwXKZvJgb57rIrH88QC-oMu3cBxBcaVrvkZcDfRcvMsMLtpAciuMCLR5jssw9gNJmku2WYNwR9fF3_XLtf9xtSe57xFQ6jWXvsa5z1yvycVzsn4qq02icYM8ztVk/s320/carving+1.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnPNaphWmPmdrqVKtwXMiuXgt5ADAzy4K9aEUaAp080fGB3KWzV4NoIorw0TcDNt5a1DYXLeSk4NgGRGWHOpy-FCZtsNlPufOAgHqH18hFCKS8RiBKJ730FKEMQCnyfN7OkYzcB8DAE3M/s1600-h/carving+2.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398858492763654354" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnPNaphWmPmdrqVKtwXMiuXgt5ADAzy4K9aEUaAp080fGB3KWzV4NoIorw0TcDNt5a1DYXLeSk4NgGRGWHOpy-FCZtsNlPufOAgHqH18hFCKS8RiBKJ730FKEMQCnyfN7OkYzcB8DAE3M/s320/carving+2.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-oFRtYL-pcDayvfLMcna2Z-nIqsKvb8krEqCUIQMwxD_D1x-MpIPeAnHxdtFTNAIpPxXOGaAMkS2Qm6dc62g-p6dgb3IUF_SAh1w6jmmB1KXwu7A7gnP8liUwzPYx80mcnOgT_pawGAU/s1600-h/carving+3.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398858482224238882" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-oFRtYL-pcDayvfLMcna2Z-nIqsKvb8krEqCUIQMwxD_D1x-MpIPeAnHxdtFTNAIpPxXOGaAMkS2Qm6dc62g-p6dgb3IUF_SAh1w6jmmB1KXwu7A7gnP8liUwzPYx80mcnOgT_pawGAU/s320/carving+3.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqJSlTvtCUaigGcQrtZHmnnU4XPGvefTslQrTHjVuzmd_X8HloyUNwpj9Qw8HKU4qC9OR170YHSUu2u_q7oYxr8Ppo9axDXC1-B8mCu7dlAz5yo9y2u_X7gZWI2EXOAsXJOc12F_wP5vA/s1600-h/carving+4.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398858478357996418" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqJSlTvtCUaigGcQrtZHmnnU4XPGvefTslQrTHjVuzmd_X8HloyUNwpj9Qw8HKU4qC9OR170YHSUu2u_q7oYxr8Ppo9axDXC1-B8mCu7dlAz5yo9y2u_X7gZWI2EXOAsXJOc12F_wP5vA/s320/carving+4.jpg" /></a><br />Lauren supervised the tracing of the pattern onto the pumpkin. This supervision included Lauren scolding Chad for breaking pencil after pencil because he was pushing too hard.<br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ020CGpChkY1FFWqyq77EQheAAoF90PipLhgepwGOILVJbxhkwZokfUcHHXIgXSc6yNNUBdpRRj00fwyCQ9oPItr5Y36Q2_4-8pRK8EUacDuhBSCeDPJcDTKdeqAmGe74pxo23Kz9BNA/s1600-h/carving+5.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 289px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398858475779075874" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ020CGpChkY1FFWqyq77EQheAAoF90PipLhgepwGOILVJbxhkwZokfUcHHXIgXSc6yNNUBdpRRj00fwyCQ9oPItr5Y36Q2_4-8pRK8EUacDuhBSCeDPJcDTKdeqAmGe74pxo23Kz9BNA/s320/carving+5.jpg" /></a> The completed "Spooky Goblin." He looks more like a <em>Goofy </em>Goblin to me, but awesome nonetheless!</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Happy Halloween to all!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div></div></div></div>One of the Girlshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01729367820558311428noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6582757434693285495.post-33646651309882659342009-10-29T07:22:00.000-07:002009-10-29T07:42:43.608-07:00The Fierce and Fantastic Finnegan<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidOlB95e1N8t6yIqlTnNmSBCs5MZu5tqOv2AoYtA8BJXdcaKp5LuDvfMMZxWZI1tetlEb_iig6MYSsc6dH-8n7-3wacUS1Kz1_QuiIiCLZWBTiEpoqOAhHrmvj4dCYyFGyDL8_W5Jns8I/s1600-h/BabyBoyReevesJuly7+026.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398027787416891346" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidOlB95e1N8t6yIqlTnNmSBCs5MZu5tqOv2AoYtA8BJXdcaKp5LuDvfMMZxWZI1tetlEb_iig6MYSsc6dH-8n7-3wacUS1Kz1_QuiIiCLZWBTiEpoqOAhHrmvj4dCYyFGyDL8_W5Jns8I/s320/BabyBoyReevesJuly7+026.jpg" /></a> In July of this year, I found myself at the Greenville Humane Society with a friend of mine. I was not in the market for a NEW dog. I have two already and they are PLENTY. However, I walked in and this face (see above) was looking at me from a pen in the lobby. I scooped him up and immediately said, "Where do I sign?" He was mine.<br /><br />I have never in my life had a dog that has brought me so much joy. He's full of energy and ALWAYS in a good mood. He's clumsy. He's naughty. He's fiercely protective of me, but scared of all things at the same time. He climbs on all furniture including the end table between the couches to look out the window and barks at falling leaves. He falls off furniture, he gets stuck behind couch cushions, he trips up the stairs, he rolls down the stairs, he falls off the bed, he falls off the couch, he crashes his head into the walls, chair legs, and doors. All of these things he does with complete abandon. He's passionate and energetic about EVERYTHING he does. <br /><br />His name is Finnegan.<br /><br />Finn loves paper. Finn loves baby dolls and stuffed animals. Finn especially loves socks and SHOES. Most shoes are the same size as him and he manages to pick them up in his mouth and carry them off and lick and chew on them. He has a secret hiding spot under our bed that's a large L.L. Bean duffle bag. I discovered this hiding spot one day when I was pulling the bag out to pack it for a trip. The bag had a stray sock, two dog bones and other miscellaneous items that had gone missing.<br /><br />Finn's expression is always excited and happy. You'll find a "gift" (aka POOP) he left in the guest bathroom and say, "FINNEGAN! DID YOU POOP IN HERE???" He gallops up to you wagging his tail enthusiastically as if he's saying, "What? Yeah?! I did! Cool huh??!" He rarely gets scolded because he's so darn cute.<br /><br />Just the other night, I was outside with the water hose doing some work and Finn was chasing streams of water. He was racing as hard as he could everytime he'd see the water spray. I think he could have played that game for hours. He's blissfully stupid. It's refreshing!<br /><br />Finnegan is so protective of me. At bedtime he curls up under the covers with me and sleeps, but the second he hears the creak of the floorboards in the hallway he's at full attention growling in his most fierce puppy voice and barking at the intruder...even though the same thing happens every night and it's just my husband coming to bed. It's like a new experience every time, "INVADER! THREAT! WARNING!" and then followed by lots of tail wagging, "Oh hey Dad! It's you! How are ya?" <br /><br />He brings me joy. He makes me laugh. He's my boy. He's my Finnegan.One of the Girlshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01729367820558311428noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6582757434693285495.post-23155864962956053752009-08-11T06:32:00.000-07:002009-08-11T06:47:53.220-07:00How do you argue with problem solving skills like these?Yesterday morning I was all set to head out early for some grocery gaming. I was dressed and ready when I approached Lauren about going shopping. She was in "a mood" from the minute she stepped out of her bedroom door and therefore wanted to "assert her independence" at every available moment. Her first reaction, when asked to get dressed to go out, was a very firm, "NO. I don't WANT to go shopping. Today is a 'stay home' day." I told her that I really needed to go to the stores and that I would appreciate her cooperation. She stewed a bit more and then came to me with a proposition...<br /><br />L: Mom? I have a idea. (yeah that's pronounced, "UH idea")<br /><br />M: What is it?<br /><br />L: What if I ride my tricycle to the store? I could ride beside the car.<br /><br />M: *puzzled look*<br /><br />L: I could go out and practice in the driveway right now! (very enthusiastic, and already anticipating my answer)<br /><br />M: Well...you don't have a HELMET. You have to wear a helmet if you ride your trike out of the yard. (thinking this would be an easy out with little argument since we in fact do NOT have a helmet)<br /><br />L: Mom! I won't fall SILLY! (guffawing at the ludacris statement)<br /><br />M: I don't think riding your tricycle on the "big road" with cars is very safe Lauren.<br /><br />L: I can ride it on the sidewalk.<br /><br />M: You'd have to cross the road to get to all of the stores.<br /><br />L: *thinking* Well I'll just ride it on the other side!<br /><br />How do you argue with problem solving skills like these?One of the Girlshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01729367820558311428noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6582757434693285495.post-29527971896427921122009-07-11T11:24:00.000-07:002009-07-11T11:40:31.211-07:00"You can't eat THAT! It's an ANIMAL!"This afternoon, Lauren wanted to watch some TV. I turned the TV on but didn't immediately change the channel to her show. The channel had some sort of fishing show and the man was scooping a scallop out of its shell. Lauren started asking a zillion questions about what he was doing. Chad grabbed his iTouch and started googling scallops to show her. They talked a little bit about them and she turned to me and began asking me things...<br /><br />L: Mom? What do you DO with scallops?<br /><br />M: You eat them. They are delicious!<br /><br />L: (guffawing) MOM you can't eat them! They are animals!<br /><br />M: *gulp* (oh boy...is this the moment she become vegetarian?) Yes honey, we eat animals. Chicken, fish, turkey...those are all animals.<br /><br />L: Yeah?<br /><br />M: You remember Uncle Rich? He makes REALLY good scallops. We'll have to ask him to make them for us sometime.<br /><br />L: Yeah!<br /><br />Quiet. She's thinking...<br /><br />L: Mom? Auntie Kim makes really good cow.<br /><br />M: Really?<br /><br />L: Yeah, it's a kind of egg. Like a shell made of vitamins with a little cow inside!<br /><br />M: Hmmm...that's really interesting Lauren...<br /><br />And I quickly changed the channel to a Lauren show.One of the Girlshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01729367820558311428noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6582757434693285495.post-64103586894704213272009-06-29T06:35:00.000-07:002009-06-29T06:59:26.552-07:00A future in show businessThis morning Lauren's imagination is cranking. She's been in her bedroom setting up a "show." She asked if I would help her get a curtain to use for her stage. I rigged up a sheet she could use and preparation for the show began. <br /><br />About five minutes pass and she comes and gets me and says, "The audience is getting ready! I need you to come be the audience!" I go in her room and patiently wait for the show to begin. <br /><br />However, instead of preparing for the show, the director was very involved in setting up the audience. Trip after trip to the playroom to bring back various stuffed animals and babydolls...carefully placing each member of the audience and addressing them by name such as "Mr. Pablo" and "Ms. Rosie." I kept asking if the show was going to start and was told that it would be "in just a second!"<br /><br />The show finally begins and the curtain opens.<br /><br />The setup. Ella Bunny and Henry are sitting facing each other. Hannah is wrapped in a silk scarf and playing the role of "Baby Jesus." Hmm...wonder where this is going? Hannah is placed between Ella and Henry and KiKi (her blanket) is draped over Ella's head thus making her "Mary." There is an angel (a beanie baby bear) also present in the scene. No dialogue is exchanged, but a little music box sitting on the floor beside the animals is wound up and begins playing. The music box has a little ballerina that spins around and apparently she's part of the show. Lauren suddenly leaves her bedroom and comes back with a toy dinosaur. The dinosaur begins roaring in an attempt to frighten the ballerina. The dinosaur attacks the ballerina and succeeds in knocking her off her pedestal. End scene.<br /><br />The curtain closes and I ask if the show is over. Lauren thinks for a moment and then jumps like she's getting ready to do jumping jacks (legs spread apart, arms stretched out)...<br /><br />L: Who's opening the curtain?<br /><br />M: Who's opening the curtain?<br /><br />L: No Mom, you're supposed to say who.<br /><br />M: Oh...who?<br /><br />L: No Mom, you're supposed to say WHO.<br /><br />M: Oh...Lauren?<br /><br />L: *big smile* (another jump) Who's bringing things to the people?<br /><br />M: (hesitantly) Lauren?<br /><br />L: *big smile* (another jump) Who's giving the bunny ears to people?<br /><br />M: (confidently) LAUREN!<br /><br />L: NO! The penguin! (and runs to her closet and produces a pink flamingo)<br /><br />M: That's a flamingo.<br /><br />L: (not interested in having the penguin/flamingo debate - jumps again) Who's giving pillows to everyone?<br /><br />M: (knowing it's the wrong answer) Lauren?<br /><br />L: NO! Checker Madison! (and produces a beanie baby dog from the closet)<br /><br />M: *staring blankly* (who's Checker Madison???)<br /><br />L: (jumps again) Who's bringing shoes to everyone?<br /><br />M: (*sigh* this show has taken a weird turn) Lauren?<br /><br />L: NO! Sucker Sadderman! (and produces a blue elephant)<br /><br />M: Is this the show?<br /><br />L: The show will be back in just a minute. (thinking) The WIGGLES will be here any minute! Murray, Jeff, Greg...You have to yell "WIGGLES!"<br /><br />M: WIGGLES!<br /><br />L: (runs out of the room and comes back with a Wiggles DVD) Mom. We need a little TV in here so we can watch the show.<br /><br />M: We don't have a little TV.<br /><br />L: OH. Well, after we go to the library, can we go see The Wiggles?<br /><br />M: Hunh?<br /><br />And in order to end the madness, I said...<br /><br />M: Is the show over?<br /><br />L: (turns to Henry and Ella and asks if the show is over) Yes. It's over.<br /><br />M: (loud applause) YAY! Great show Lauren!<br /><br />End scene.One of the Girlshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01729367820558311428noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6582757434693285495.post-87442532067249667152009-06-24T13:46:00.000-07:002009-06-24T14:03:34.186-07:00That silly Ducky...Many a month has passed since my last blog entry. Honestly, if I sat with a tape recorder in hand, I could have a non-stop stream of hilarious conversations I have on a daily basis with my child. In the past two days, Lauren has decided that naps are not a necessary part of her day. I think my heart rate just accelerated as I typed that last statement. Naps equal sanity in this house. No naps? Yeah, you guessed it.<br /><br />When I went into Lauren's room to calmly (fingernails digging into palms of hands) to discuss the "no nap situation" she said, "Mom. I was asleep. I was! But my animals wanted to play...Ducky said..." And then I tuned her out. Seriously? The animals? Ducky? It's <em>always</em> Ducky getting into some sort of trouble. Who needs an imaginary friend when you can blame everything on your sweet lovey Ducky? The sweet lovey you've had since you were an infant. Damn duck.<br /><br />So we're bumping along thru the afternoon today (just remember, no nap...)<br /><br />L: Mom? I want a snack. (walking towards the kitchen and opening fridge) Can I have pickles?<br /><br />M: No.<br /><br />L: But Mom (little whine)...I want pickles.<br /><br />M: No.<br /><br />L: But Moooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooom (lot more whine) I. Just. Want. Pickles.<br /><br />M: I. Said. No.<br /><br />This conversation ends with Lauren sitting in time out for one minute for continuing to argue with me.<br /><br />Lauren finds something to do and seems content and distracted. Ten minutes pass and the snack situation is still unresolved.<br /><br />L: Mom? I still want a snack.<br /><br />M: (taking her into my lap) How about a piece of that homemade bread we made yesterday with some BUTTER ON IT? (excitement gleaming in my eyes) AND then you could take it in the den and watch "The Music Man!"<br /><br />L: Mom? What if we take two pieces of bread...and some cheese...and make like...like...a SANDWICH (excitement in HER eyes now)! How about a GRILLED CHEESE SANDWICH?<br /><br />M: Wait. Grilled cheese? That's supper. That's not a snack.<br /><br />L: OK. Well, how about just a cheeeeeeeeeese sandwich. Not grilled.<br /><br />M: How about a bowl of dry cereal?<br /><br />L: With my piece of bread and butter?<br /><br />M: Uh... (how did we get back to the bread and butter so fast?)<br /><br />L: You know what Ducky likes? He likes FROOT LOOP SANDWICHES! (and she starts guffawing likes it's the funniest thing she's ever heard) Can I have a Froot Loop sandwich?<br /><br />That Ducky...One of the Girlshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01729367820558311428noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6582757434693285495.post-62210891223278675022009-01-08T08:10:00.000-08:002009-01-08T08:18:11.593-08:00It's a JOKE Mama!My child recently started telling knock-knock jokes. She only <em>really</em> knows one, but tries to make up multiple ones using the same punch line. It goes like this...<br /><br />L: Knock-Knock!<br /><br />M: Who's there?<br /><br />L: Lion.<br /><br />M: Lion who?<br /><br />L: Lion in his bed!!! (Get it? Lion/Lyin' in his bed...)<br /><br />She roars with laughter everytime. So she tries other things...<br /><br />L: Knock-Knock!<br /><br />M: Who's there?<br /><br />L: TV.<br /><br />M: TV who?<br /><br />L: TV IN HIS BED!! Bwhahahahahahhahaha!<br /><br />M: *blank stare*<br /><br />Last night Lauren's bestest pal Dustin was over and Lauren tried out her joke on him. He laughed and then shared a joke with her...<br /><br />D: What do you call a fish with no eyes?<br /><br />L: *blank stare* I don't know...a fish with no eyes?<br /><br />D: Fsh!<br /><br />L: *blink blink*<br /><br />D: Get it? Fsh!<br /><br />Chad then says to Dustin, "You do realize you're using a joke that involves spelling to someone who can't spell, right?"<br /><br />So this morning, we're driving to school and Lauren is chattering away in the backseat asking me ten thousand questions about all kinds of things and then says...<br /><br />L: Mom, what do you call a monster with no eyes?<br /><br />M: A <em>monster </em>with no eyes?<br /><br />L: Yeah! What do you call a monster with no eyes?<br /><br />M: I have no idea.<br /><br />L: He's tickling the fish! Get it? Get it? Do you get it Mama???<br /><br />M: *roaring laughter*One of the Girlshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01729367820558311428noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6582757434693285495.post-81379728834995704342008-11-17T14:04:00.000-08:002008-11-17T14:09:11.774-08:00good stuffThis afternoon I'm trying to quietly work on our family website, but there's a little person who is sitting at her table next to my desk chattering away about random things blipping into her brain. For some reason she started talking about the Charter cable dude that was here for our installation oh...about 2.5 months ago? She keeps saying he needs to come fix our TV.<br /><br />M: Who needs to fix our TV?<br /><br />L: The Camel Guy.<br /><br />M: The cable guy?<br /><br />L: Yeah, the Copper Man.<br /><br />M: Lauren, I'm not sure what you're referring to...<br /><br />L: I'm not "ferring to" I'm talking.One of the Girlshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01729367820558311428noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6582757434693285495.post-82070174916154653672008-11-05T06:45:00.000-08:002008-11-05T06:56:39.780-08:00Lauren's ListLast night while Lauren was eating her supper, we were discussing fall and winter. She keeps asking me why it's dark when she's eating supper these days. Daylight savings time is a fairly complex concept for a three year old to grasp...<br /><br />Somehow we ended up talking about Santa coming to visit this year. I asked her what kinds of things she might like Santa to bring. After some serious thinking on Lauren's part, she developed the following list...in this order...<br /><br />princess dresses<br />necklaces<br />bracelets<br />crowns<br />magic wands<br />an elephant...a cozy little elephant<br />counting bears<br />dolls<br />toy trucks<br />butterfly wings<br />a snow cup<br />toy umbrella<br />bird seed<br />acorns to feed the squirrels<br /><br />And there you have it.One of the Girlshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01729367820558311428noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6582757434693285495.post-24584127906176740732008-10-08T05:52:00.000-07:002008-10-08T06:01:04.633-07:00Tell me a story 'bout...Every night, as part of Lauren's bedtime routine, we read several books and then tuck her into bed. The last month or so, as you're tucking her in she'll say, "Tell me a story 'bout..." and she'll say Dora the Explorer, or Backyardigans, or about when she was a baby, etc. Last night she was so cute, so I had to post it...<br /><br />L: Mom, tell me a story 'bout Josh.<br /><br />M: Josh? Let's see. Josh...well Josh loves art. He loves to draw pictures and paint and sculpt and sew... You know what Josh loves more than anything? (planning to say "Spending time with Lauren!")<br /><br />L: (enthusiastically) MIKE!One of the Girlshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01729367820558311428noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6582757434693285495.post-63711734010322283292008-09-29T12:23:00.000-07:002008-09-29T12:27:48.776-07:00You need eyes to sleepThis afternoon I was getting Lauren's room ready for naptime and asked her to go find KiKi (her striped blanket I knew was in the living room). She was puttering around her room and not really listening to me...<br /><br />M: Lauren, please go get KiKi. KiKi wants to take a nap too.<br /><br />L: But Mama (with a troubled, serious look on her face)...KiKi doesn't have eyes!<br /><br />That's toddler logic for you...how could KiKi take a nap if there aren't any eyes to close? Makes perfect sense.One of the Girlshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01729367820558311428noreply@blogger.com0