tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-69593375195296031182024-03-13T19:01:49.451-05:00i LOVE you, but you're driving me CRAZY!!The E.B. and Nicko Chronicles...
Fun times from a life with two little boys!Shellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11490103085002140788noreply@blogger.comBlogger133125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959337519529603118.post-89078847673280776082010-09-08T13:36:00.000-05:002010-09-08T13:36:22.927-05:00It's Thursday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TIfXTj9uuYI/AAAAAAAABdQ/v32rKYr9aW0/s1600/blog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TIfXTj9uuYI/AAAAAAAABdQ/v32rKYr9aW0/s200/blog.jpg" width="183" /></a></div>This morning, having a conversation about whether or not he need PE shoes today:<br />
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<b>Ethan, </b><i>looking confused</i><b>:</b> It's Thursday?<br />
<b>Me:</b> Yes, It's Thursday. It seems like it's only Wednesday because there was no school on Monday for the holiday, remember?<br />
<b>Ethan</b><i><b> (</b>Still looking a little confused):</i> Oh, yeah. So I need my PE shoes because it's Thursday not Wednesday?<br />
<b>Me:</b> Yes. <br />
<br />
<b>Five minutes later:</b><br />
<b>Ethan: </b>So, if it's Thursday, how come Nick doesn't have school?<br />
<b>Me:</b> Um..... <i>(oh, no...Nick had school yesterday, so it can't be Thursday....)</i> Because it's Wednesday? <i>(Shoot!)</i><br />
<br />
Needless to say, Ethan was very confused, and I left to go get more coffee...<br />
And yes, it's really Wednesday today, not Thursday. It's a wonder my kids survive me somedays.Shellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11490103085002140788noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959337519529603118.post-39208112258341870302010-08-14T22:47:00.000-05:002010-08-14T22:47:27.982-05:00The Boys Room MakeoverIt was about time for Nick to get a real bed, so we started shopping for beds. If you're going to ask for a new bed for one boy, chances are you'll ask for a new bed for both boys. If you're getting new beds, you'll need some new sheets. And if you're getting new sheets, you'll need a blanket to go with them.... Well, you know how that story goes...<br />
<br />
So, here's the surprise room redo. We managed to buy all the stuff for this, and have it hidden around the house (or in plain sight) this week, without the boys catching on. They "tent camped" in their room after we took out the old beds on Monday to clean the carpets and paint the baseboards. Today, they were gone at Nana's, and we surprised them tonight when they got home with the fully made over room.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></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="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TGdHxU_-AuI/AAAAAAAABYg/S3kXiUEp5KA/s1600/SAM_2860.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TGdHxU_-AuI/AAAAAAAABYg/S3kXiUEp5KA/s320/SAM_2860.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Daddy must love us an awful lot to do all this work for us!</span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TGdHzE_04iI/AAAAAAAABYo/Oy7N9sE1L3A/s1600/SAM_2861.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TGdHzE_04iI/AAAAAAAABYo/Oy7N9sE1L3A/s320/SAM_2861.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">But he's not crazy about the picture part...</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TGdH1MML9rI/AAAAAAAABYw/BWfPIJLZvtc/s1600/SAM_2862.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TGdH1MML9rI/AAAAAAAABYw/BWfPIJLZvtc/s320/SAM_2862.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Starting to take shape.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TGdH2_DFU1I/AAAAAAAABY4/Jp5EueqvPDo/s1600/SAM_2863.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TGdH2_DFU1I/AAAAAAAABY4/Jp5EueqvPDo/s320/SAM_2863.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">One down, one more to go...</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TGdI4HR7U9I/AAAAAAAABZA/SsDqjo3gVmc/s1600/SAM_2864.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TGdI4HR7U9I/AAAAAAAABZA/SsDqjo3gVmc/s320/SAM_2864.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Time to make the beds...</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TGdI6aGwsuI/AAAAAAAABZI/Sh0qjf_F4H0/s1600/SAM_2866.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TGdI6aGwsuI/AAAAAAAABZI/Sh0qjf_F4H0/s320/SAM_2866.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Tent canopy up, and bed made.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TGdI8W2iQ0I/AAAAAAAABZQ/d5oRTj0xbyY/s1600/SAM_2868.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TGdI8W2iQ0I/AAAAAAAABZQ/d5oRTj0xbyY/s320/SAM_2868.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Mama must really love us too...she even ironed the curtains!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TGdI-TbnDJI/AAAAAAAABZY/7YEfluQUAjM/s1600/SAM_2869.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TGdI-TbnDJI/AAAAAAAABZY/7YEfluQUAjM/s320/SAM_2869.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">New beds, new curtains...</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TGdJAsbouQI/AAAAAAAABZg/CF6W3qmNJmw/s1600/SAM_2870.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TGdJAsbouQI/AAAAAAAABZg/CF6W3qmNJmw/s320/SAM_2870.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Ethan's bed is ready now too...</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TGdJvugdEqI/AAAAAAAABZo/u0Tvm5fBb_g/s1600/full+view.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TGdJvugdEqI/AAAAAAAABZo/u0Tvm5fBb_g/s320/full+view.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Ta...DA!!!!!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TGdKPR8bR5I/AAAAAAAABZw/mx0hDdaHzGI/s1600/SAM_2872.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TGdKPR8bR5I/AAAAAAAABZw/mx0hDdaHzGI/s320/SAM_2872.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">There's a tv watching area...</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TGdKSvj3ZZI/AAAAAAAABZ4/un5vf_8wzzw/s1600/SAM_2879.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TGdKSvj3ZZI/AAAAAAAABZ4/un5vf_8wzzw/s320/SAM_2879.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">There's a reading area....</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TGdKU2gne-I/AAAAAAAABaA/p8dorzYdtOg/s1600/SAM_2880.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TGdKU2gne-I/AAAAAAAABaA/p8dorzYdtOg/s320/SAM_2880.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">There's even an 'overflow' stuffed animal bin...</span></td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">And here's the "Big Reveal"...</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">oops...couldn't get that video clip to work. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">I'll try to figure it out and add it later. They were soooo surprised! </span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TGdLC5VUuwI/AAAAAAAABag/TK0dDtcP63U/s1600/SAM_2891.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TGdLC5VUuwI/AAAAAAAABag/TK0dDtcP63U/s320/SAM_2891.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">I love this book!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TGdK8Tvc3vI/AAAAAAAABaI/NAfZkC5-5Zc/s1600/SAM_2885.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TGdK8Tvc3vI/AAAAAAAABaI/NAfZkC5-5Zc/s320/SAM_2885.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Checkin' out the tv area...</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TGdK-o57XxI/AAAAAAAABaQ/ju8U2TzReKg/s1600/SAM_2887.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TGdK-o57XxI/AAAAAAAABaQ/ju8U2TzReKg/s320/SAM_2887.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">His comment? "It looks like where worms live!" Unique as ever.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TGdLvwy8eOI/AAAAAAAABao/6eXfUL_9mAk/s1600/SAM_2892.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TGdLvwy8eOI/AAAAAAAABao/6eXfUL_9mAk/s320/SAM_2892.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Time to check out the sleeping area.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TGdLyAQgMFI/AAAAAAAABaw/13gB8tBBBRw/s1600/SAM_2893.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TGdLyAQgMFI/AAAAAAAABaw/13gB8tBBBRw/s320/SAM_2893.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">I love it!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TGdLzyrBaRI/AAAAAAAABa4/cT9XcMiA19M/s1600/SAM_2894.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TGdLzyrBaRI/AAAAAAAABa4/cT9XcMiA19M/s320/SAM_2894.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Have to get everything 'just so'.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TGdL132j7iI/AAAAAAAABbA/oSgoBU1ZpCc/s1600/SAM_2896.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TGdL132j7iI/AAAAAAAABbA/oSgoBU1ZpCc/s320/SAM_2896.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Ahhh...perfect!</span></td></tr>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Shellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11490103085002140788noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959337519529603118.post-8566221181202685932010-06-08T13:14:00.000-05:002010-06-08T13:14:13.882-05:00Summer Fun<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TA6HJ6lZTNI/AAAAAAAABW8/yHcjpuw1L7I/s1600/IMG_0117.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TA6HJ6lZTNI/AAAAAAAABW8/yHcjpuw1L7I/s320/IMG_0117.jpg" /></a><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TA6HNmGU8BI/AAAAAAAABXE/KCSBvPUZAuE/s1600/IMG_0128.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TA6HNmGU8BI/AAAAAAAABXE/KCSBvPUZAuE/s320/IMG_0128.jpg" /></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TA6GjhNy-ZI/AAAAAAAABVk/RdnnBkgYb8U/s1600/IMG_0084.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TA6GjhNy-ZI/AAAAAAAABVk/RdnnBkgYb8U/s320/IMG_0084.jpg" /></a><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TA6Go5Sb_mI/AAAAAAAABV0/1kvWK2a1BKs/s1600/IMG_0093.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TA6Go5Sb_mI/AAAAAAAABV0/1kvWK2a1BKs/s320/IMG_0093.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TA6GmWYxwqI/AAAAAAAABVs/zKpzj00DyLM/s1600/IMG_0086.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TA6GmWYxwqI/AAAAAAAABVs/zKpzj00DyLM/s320/IMG_0086.jpg" /></a></div><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/_d6RkcMkusf0/TA6GsbezyHI/AAAAAAAABV8/IZD3di4jOxY/s1600/IMG_0097.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TA6GsbezyHI/AAAAAAAABV8/IZD3di4jOxY/s320/IMG_0097.jpg" /></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TA6Gux_GiJI/AAAAAAAABWE/_S0CVElhu-U/s1600/IMG_0098.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TA6Gux_GiJI/AAAAAAAABWE/_S0CVElhu-U/s320/IMG_0098.jpg" /></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TA6G0TfLCtI/AAAAAAAABWM/5-jbjB3fR20/s1600/IMG_0099.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TA6G0TfLCtI/AAAAAAAABWM/5-jbjB3fR20/s320/IMG_0099.jpg" /></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TA6G4wNl9GI/AAAAAAAABWU/9-pcR2hJz4Q/s1600/IMG_0100.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TA6G4wNl9GI/AAAAAAAABWU/9-pcR2hJz4Q/s320/IMG_0100.jpg" /></a><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TA6G8dmNFLI/AAAAAAAABWc/3NMn2wIojGk/s1600/IMG_0102.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TA6G8dmNFLI/AAAAAAAABWc/3NMn2wIojGk/s320/IMG_0102.jpg" /></a><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TA6HB3Vwa4I/AAAAAAAABWk/z71emd5murw/s1600/IMG_0112.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TA6HB3Vwa4I/AAAAAAAABWk/z71emd5murw/s320/IMG_0112.jpg" /></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TA6G4wNl9GI/AAAAAAAABWU/9-pcR2hJz4Q/s1600/IMG_0100.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TA6G4wNl9GI/AAAAAAAABWU/9-pcR2hJz4Q/s320/IMG_0100.jpg" /></a><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TA6HH07wrPI/AAAAAAAABW0/tnVenzZq-JE/s1600/IMG_0115.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TA6HH07wrPI/AAAAAAAABW0/tnVenzZq-JE/s320/IMG_0115.jpg" /></a></div>Shellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11490103085002140788noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959337519529603118.post-42177289874482497352010-06-02T09:42:00.000-05:002010-06-02T09:42:09.004-05:00I'm a 'Murner', Are You?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TAZsuEVvJAI/AAAAAAAABVM/c2_itYaccsI/s1600/eb+nick.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/TAZsuEVvJAI/AAAAAAAABVM/c2_itYaccsI/s320/eb+nick.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Yesterday, on the way to the park after school, we stopped in at the Sonic Drive In to get some 1/2 price happy hour slushies. This particular Sonic only has one driveway going in, and I always seem to forget that and head for what I think is the 2nd driveway, but is really the place next door. And, of course, they don't connect. This has happened often enough that I realize it as soon as I'm just past the correct turn in spot. So, I muttered, "Shoot. I missed the turn again!" to myself. In the backseat, Ethan says, "Mom!! You're a MURNER!"<br />
<br />
Now, I'm trying to turn left across three lanes of traffic, and I'm really not paying attention to him, but as soon as I cross over in the parking lot, I hear an echo in my head of what he had said. Somewhat horrified, I wonder what would make my son call me a<i> murderer. </i>I don't even squish spiders in the house, thanks to 15 years of brainwashing from my hubby, who can't stand to kill any living thing. If I can't scoop it up and take it outside,<i> (read: it's too big and scary for me to deal with...)</i> then it gets covered by a large glass, with a book on top to make sure it can't escape, until he gets home to deal with it. <i> (Spiders are strong, you know. It might just pick up that cup that's 100 times bigger than it's own body size, and crawl on out...LOL. I know, I know, I'm a wuss.) </i>But back to the point. Why did he just tell me I'm a murderer?<br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
Me: What? I'm a murderer?<br />
E: No. You're a<i> MUR</i>-ner. <br />
Me: (<i>Okay, well that's better, but what on earth is a murner?) </i> I don't know what that is... What's a <i>MUR</i>-ner?<br />
E: You missed the turn. You're a murner. Get it? You're a 'missed turner'. Missed + turner = murner!<br />
Me: <i>Laughing.</i> Oh. You're right, I guess I am a murner. And you're pretty clever for coming up with that!<br />
E: I know. Are you going to tell Mrs. D. at the park about 'murner'?<br />
Me: Yep, I'll definitely tell her about that one.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
Later that night, on the way home from a Love & Logic class, we had this conversation:<br />
E: What class did you have to go to?<br />
Me: It was a Love & Logic class.<br />
E: Why did you need to go there?<br />
Me: So I can learn to be a better mom, and teach you how to be a better kid, so you can have a better life.<br />
E: And be a better dad when I have kids?<br />
Me: Yes, that too, I guess.<br />
E: <i>(Who is only just 8...) </i>I don't know who I'm going to marry.<br />
Me: Well, you probably haven't even met the person you're going to marry yet...<br />
Nicholas: <i>(who is 4...)</i> I'm going to marry a<i> TABLE!!</i> <br />
That was the end of that conversation. We were all laughing too much! <br />
<br />
I am surely blessed with these two guys who are always making me laugh.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Dear Ethan & Nick: </div><div style="text-align: center;">I <i><b>LOVE</b></i> you, </div><div style="text-align: center;">and you're driving me </div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>CRAZY.</b>... <i><b> </b></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><b>with laughter! </b></i></div>Shellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11490103085002140788noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959337519529603118.post-46187410098107071562010-05-20T09:00:00.002-05:002010-05-20T09:00:02.194-05:00Nick's 4th Birthday<div style="text-align: center;">Nick turned 4 on May 5th. Here are a few pictures from our celebration day.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S_ReCvZCg2I/AAAAAAAABT0/88putIQKwD0/s1600/SAM_2220.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S_ReCvZCg2I/AAAAAAAABT0/88putIQKwD0/s320/SAM_2220.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">First things first, wake up and open a present!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S_ReH-DbJLI/AAAAAAAABT8/FrUcrOHrfoI/s1600/SAM_2224.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S_ReH-DbJLI/AAAAAAAABT8/FrUcrOHrfoI/s320/SAM_2224.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Next, grab some donut holes and head over to Jump for Fun to celebrate with friends.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S_ReOYeAHjI/AAAAAAAABUM/gsgIpwBIvWQ/s1600/SAM_2244.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S_ReOYeAHjI/AAAAAAAABUM/gsgIpwBIvWQ/s320/SAM_2244.jpg" /><span id="goog_2001285624"></span><span id="goog_2001285625"></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"> Later, have Grandma deliver your custom order "BLUE EYEBALL" birthday cake.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><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/_d6RkcMkusf0/S_ReRHMmWWI/AAAAAAAABUU/hqKUibHEHpU/s1600/SAM_2245.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S_ReRHMmWWI/AAAAAAAABUU/hqKUibHEHpU/s320/SAM_2245.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S_ReT-u_OjI/AAAAAAAABUc/XnESaX4_RrM/s1600/SAM_2247.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S_ReT-u_OjI/AAAAAAAABUc/XnESaX4_RrM/s320/SAM_2247.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> Open more presents, and wear your special 4 Year Old birthday hat.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S_ReWwq-IQI/AAAAAAAABUk/2vAeg-G7AoI/s1600/SAM_2249.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S_ReWwq-IQI/AAAAAAAABUk/2vAeg-G7AoI/s320/SAM_2249.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> Last but not least, family dinner at Hibachi Sushi (Samauri Bistro) with Grandma & Papa, Nana, Aunt Barbara, and Mom, Dad & Ethan.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S_ReZUTiAgI/AAAAAAAABUs/sOl4SKGvPCU/s1600/SAM_2252.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S_ReZUTiAgI/AAAAAAAABUs/sOl4SKGvPCU/s320/SAM_2252.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> It's always a surprise when they light the table on fire!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S_RecePOxdI/AAAAAAAABU0/gN_GnnJsGSI/s1600/SAM_2255.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S_RecePOxdI/AAAAAAAABU0/gN_GnnJsGSI/s320/SAM_2255.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Nick's favorite part? Catching shrimp tossed through the air. When the chef went around for a second toss, Nick was already waiting for him....</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S_RefblCUzI/AAAAAAAABU8/0ifE8dTCNDg/s1600/SAM_2257.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S_RefblCUzI/AAAAAAAABU8/0ifE8dTCNDg/s320/SAM_2257.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Finally, special birthday treat and a song. Nick made one of his trademark crazy faces, and the waitress was laughing too hard to finish the song!</div>Shellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11490103085002140788noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959337519529603118.post-60684299797265726222010-05-19T10:37:00.004-05:002010-05-19T10:39:36.462-05:00The Three Little Pigs<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
Ethan had to draw and write what he would have done if he were one of the three little pigs.<br />
<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/_d6RkcMkusf0/S_QEoFDmH-I/AAAAAAAABTs/zZIMoLn0wlA/s1600/Scan.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S_QEoFDmH-I/AAAAAAAABTs/zZIMoLn0wlA/s400/Scan.jpeg" width="312" /></a></div>Can you tell he's an eight year old boy? I was cracking up about the fish tank full of sharks.Shellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11490103085002140788noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959337519529603118.post-26578616246133911612010-05-19T10:22:00.000-05:002010-05-19T10:22:22.162-05:00Menu Planning<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S_QCCFGAODI/AAAAAAAABTk/BsotfxctAYI/s1600/SAM_1535.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S_QCCFGAODI/AAAAAAAABTk/BsotfxctAYI/s200/SAM_1535.jpg" width="138" /></a></div>Nick wanted chocolate milk, so after paying me in kisses, we were in the kitchen fixing some for him.<br />
<br />
<b>Me: </b>Hey, Nick. What should we make for dinner tonight?<br />
<b>Nick:</b> <i>(very seriously)</i> Eyeballs. <i>Walks off with his milk...</i><br />
<br />
Priceless.Shellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11490103085002140788noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959337519529603118.post-7796580394983860242010-05-14T12:33:00.000-05:002010-05-14T12:33:42.374-05:00That's Weird<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S-2ILClPlvI/AAAAAAAABTc/UBc_flqQ7q4/s1600/weird.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S-2ILClPlvI/AAAAAAAABTc/UBc_flqQ7q4/s320/weird.jpg" width="236" /></a></div>We were just driving home from Mom & Dad's in this huge downpour. Flash flood type rainstorm, so loud that you couldn't hear anything but the rain thundering on the roof of the car. <br />
Nick says, "What's a sjdsofgi?"<br />
Me: What? Talk louder, I can't hear you over the rain.<br />
Nick: What's a SJDSOFGI?<br />
Me: I still couldn't understand you.<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">Nick: What's a</span> <b><i>SHIRT</i></b>?</span><br />
Me: What's a shirt? <i>(Really, that's what you need to know right this second?)</i><br />
Nick: Yeah.<br />
Me:<i> (Umm....how do you answer that?) </i>It's just a shirt.<br />
Nick: Well, now that's weird!Shellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11490103085002140788noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959337519529603118.post-22539355540425580862010-04-28T17:02:00.000-05:002010-04-28T17:02:15.693-05:00Pause is the New Time-OutI think we watch too much DVR'd TV. <br />
The boys are running around playing, and when they need to stop for a minute, (when, back in the 'old' days, we'd just say time-out) they yell, "PAUSE!!!", as if you can just pause real life, and then hit play when you're ready again. <br />
<br />
Sometimes, from the next room, I hear,<br />
<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">"</span><span style="font-size: small;">P</span>ause!!<span style="font-size: large;"> Pause</span>, <b><span style="font-size: large;">pause, pause!!!</span></b> <i><b><span style="font-size: x-large;"> PAUSE!!!!!" </span></b></i></div><br />
It's too funny.Shellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11490103085002140788noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959337519529603118.post-1253058222424033632010-04-16T01:31:00.002-05:002010-04-16T01:31:00.358-05:00Bedtime Stories<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S8e-2b6_ubI/AAAAAAAABS8/xiBu68uSYlo/s1600/pjp.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S8e-2b6_ubI/AAAAAAAABS8/xiBu68uSYlo/s320/pjp.jpg" /></a></div>It's Friday. I think I'll wear my pajamas to work. Seriously. Today is <a href="http://www.nationalwearyourpajamastoworkday.com/">National Wear Your PJs to Work Day</a>! How cool is that? Now, I kind of feel like I'm cheating, since I work at home, but I'm still going to wear my Pjs all day! Why should my kids get to be the only ones to wear their pjs to school once a year?<br />
<br />
Okay, in all seriousness, I'm wearing my PJs today, not just because I want to, but for a really good cause. The Pajama Program donates pjs and books to children in need who might never get tucked in with a bedtime story. Never know the security of having their own pjs and mom or dad to read a story to them every night before bed. Bedtime/storytime is one of my favorite parts of my day. No matter how much my boys are making me crazy, or how bad I feel, I always love snuggling with them and reading a story together. It breaks my heart that some children never know that gift. <br />
<br />
<br />
So, while my introverted self cringes, I'm going to go Starbucks for coffee, and when they say "How are you?" I'm going to say, <i>"I'm great! It's national wear your pjs to work day, and I'm supporting the Pajama Program!" </i> I have little slips with the Pajama Program logo and website on them to hand out. I'm taking my son to school<i> (the one where you have to go in with him...) </i>in my Pjs<i>. </i> I'm going to yoga...<i>in my pjs. </i> Maybe I'll be really brave and go inside the bank to make a deposit! <i>Why does that seem worse than going to starbucks?</i> Oh, and my boys and I are donating the money we made at the jbf sale to buy pjs for this great cause. We were able to order 14 sets of Pjs for Pajama Program boys and girls. Now that's a sweet dream!<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>Would you like to donate? </b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><a href="http://www.pajamaprogram.org/donate.html">Go HERE</a> for ways to help Pajama Program directly</b> </div><div style="text-align: center;">(including online donations) <br />
<a href="http://pajamaprogram.org/"><b>PajamaProgram.Org</b></a></div>Shellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11490103085002140788noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959337519529603118.post-12704993156119015482010-03-31T10:08:00.000-05:002010-03-31T10:08:45.809-05:00Things they don't tell you...There are just some things that no one tells you about when you're going to be a mom. Like some of the conversations you will have with your three year old. Today's moment about learning how to put on your own underwear, for example.<br />
<br />
<br />
Me: Put your underwear and shorts on, so we can go to the park.<br />
Nick: Cool! It has a wiener pocket!!<br />
Me: Yes, it has a weiner pocket... <i>laughing....</i><br />
Nick: It's a weiner pocket!!! It's a weiner pocket!!<br />
Me: <i>Still laughing...</i> Yes, but the weiner pocket goes in the front...<br />
Nick:<i> OOOOO</i>ooooohhhhh!!!!Shellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11490103085002140788noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959337519529603118.post-37326258061359852402010-03-22T12:34:00.000-05:002010-03-22T12:34:36.704-05:00They say the funniest things...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S6ep5RQFqbI/AAAAAAAABPU/y4NUrWeaqo4/s1600-h/breathe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S6ep5RQFqbI/AAAAAAAABPU/y4NUrWeaqo4/s320/breathe.jpg" width="264" /></a></div>Nick came in with one of his favorite Nerf guns just now. I was sitting on my bed, and when he pointed the gun to "shoot" me, I played along, squealed, and fell over "dead". I lay there to wait and see what he would do. He didn't say a word, and I didn't move. After about 30 seconds, he climbed up on the bed with me. He put one hand on top of the other, and starting pushing on my ribs, CPR style, yelling "Breathe, baby, breathe! Breathe, baby, breathe!". <br />
<br />
If I wasn't already laying down, I'd have fallen over laughing! Shellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11490103085002140788noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959337519529603118.post-73954121778029837422010-03-16T17:56:00.000-05:002010-03-16T17:56:57.143-05:00It's a Dangerous Game<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S6AMSb3EcKI/AAAAAAAABOI/gGcjl7A8PCc/s1600-h/fire.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S6AMSb3EcKI/AAAAAAAABOI/gGcjl7A8PCc/s320/fire.jpg" /></a></div><b> Ethan just came running up to me and said: </b><br />
Hey, mom! I know a dangerous game. It would be called <i>'fire-in-the-hole musical chairs'.</i> You would put fire on the chairs, and then put on fire stuff (fire retardant stuff, I think he meant), and then you would turn on the music, do-de-do-di-loo....and then the music would stop and you'd sit down on the fire! Told you it was a dangerous game.<br />
<br />
How do you respond to that?Shellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11490103085002140788noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959337519529603118.post-45783924245058584112010-03-15T09:24:00.000-05:002010-03-15T09:24:34.967-05:00Spelling and Star Wars<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S54_M7dgGWI/AAAAAAAABNo/pBrdmYEsvBI/s1600-h/abcscrabble.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S54_M7dgGWI/AAAAAAAABNo/pBrdmYEsvBI/s200/abcscrabble.jpg" width="118" /></a></div>Ethan is doing very well at reading and spelling these days. He is fascinated by playing Scrabble, and can't get enough of it. It's fun to play with him. He actually gives us a run for our money, and is very good with both the spelling and strategy parts of it.<br />
<br />
We are also starting to read harder books together. Chapter books! Hooray! His favorites so far are the Magic Tree House books and Encyclopedia Brown mysteries. I'm so glad he (and Nick) have a love of reading!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S54-kLxa9mI/AAAAAAAABNg/CGLTYt0cz6Y/s1600-h/abc3po.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S54-kLxa9mI/AAAAAAAABNg/CGLTYt0cz6Y/s200/abc3po.jpg" width="135" /></a></div>Nick wants to be just like his big brother, so he is learning how to spell, too. Nick, however, is just learning that the letters make words. He doesn't really understand, yet, that they have to be certain letters in a certain order. He's three. That's a <i>very</i> good start! For him, everything is spelled E-O-I-N. Every word, every time, week after week. <br />
Mom, I can spell phone.... E-O-I-N. <br />
Mom, I can spell door...... E-O-I-N. <br />
Mom, I can spell your com-pooter...... E-O-I-N. <br />
And on and on. Of course, he gets a laugh for it, which just encourages him to keep doing it. I have learned that this kid will do anything for a laugh! <br />
<br />
He used to spell everything E-O-I until he heard me explaining to Ethan (who was very frustrated that Nick wasn't spelling things <i>right</i>) that Nick is just learning that the letters make words, and he doesn't know yet which letters, or that some words have more letters than others. Ever since that day, he's added the 'N' onto the end of E-O-I. Kind of funny to realize that he was listening to our conversation about it and actually understood it a little bit. <i>I love those tiny learning milestones!</i> The other day I asked him to spell a bunch of words, and he answered E-O-I-N every time. Then, I asked if he knew how to spell Nicholas. He started to say E-O-I-N, but then he paused and said, "No no no, that's not it. It starts with an N. " <i>Yea! I love when you see the moment they realize or learn something new. It's so incredible.</i><br />
<br />
Tonight after getting in bed, out of the blue, he said, "Mom, how do you spell that round robot guy? You know that robot guy? The robot that's round? How do you spell him? That round guy, R2D2?<br />
Me: R-2-D-2.<br />
Nick: Yeah, him! How do you spell him?<br />
Me: Just like it sounds...R-2-D-2.<br />
Nick: How do you spell R-2-D-2?<br />
Me: R......2.......D........2<br />
Nick: Oh. What about that goldie guy? How do you spell him?<br />
Me: C-3-P-O?<br />
Nick: Yeah. How do you spell C3PO?<br />
Me: C......3.......P......O.....<br />
Nick: Oh. What about those guys with arms and legs?<br />
Me: Luke Skywalker and Han Solo?<br />
Nick: Yeah, those guys. and the other one with the big gun.<br />
Me: Chewbacca?<br />
Nick: Yeah. Chewbacca. (Then he lost interest and rolled over to go to sleep).<br />
<i>I have a feeling I'll be spelling everything under the sun for him pretty soon! And I'll love every minute of it. </i><br />
<br />
The mind of a child works in such mysterious ways. I love being there to hear the random questions that they <i>just have</i> to have answered before they can finally let go and fall asleep. It's the most <i>wonder-FULL </i> time of the day.Shellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11490103085002140788noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959337519529603118.post-45885109325312053172010-03-06T10:33:00.003-06:002010-03-06T10:33:00.129-06:00Oh no!!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S47XFht4jUI/AAAAAAAABMY/T8TRzJMzFQc/s1600-h/bwn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S47XFht4jUI/AAAAAAAABMY/T8TRzJMzFQc/s320/bwn.jpg" width="228" /></a></div>On Wednesday we walked over to the school to pick up Ethan. Well, we parked in the neighborhood and walked over, anyway, which is so much faster than the parent pickup line. It was finally a warm, sunny day. <br />
<br />
As we got out of the car and started down the path, Nick said:<br />
"Oh no!! My eyeballs are on fire! My eyeballs are burning!"<br />
He was right, after endless days of cold and cloudy gray skies, it did feel like the sun is burning up your eyeballs.Shellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11490103085002140788noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959337519529603118.post-13891304551424315232010-03-04T11:00:00.002-06:002010-03-04T11:00:04.718-06:00SUCCESS!<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">This is an old post that I had started, but never posted, for some reason. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">It's from November '08, but here it is anyway... Better late than never! </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">The picture is from October 2008...they've grown so much!!</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S43qcVpo7uI/AAAAAAAABIQ/y7B7YuyR06M/s1600-h/success.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S43qcVpo7uI/AAAAAAAABIQ/y7B7YuyR06M/s320/success.jpg" /></a></div><span style="font-size: small; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"> </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">S-U-C-C-E-S-S!!!!!!!!!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Tonight, instead of Nicholas yelling at me</span> <span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">MOMMY</span></span>, <span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">MOMMY,</span></span> <span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">MOMMY!!!!!</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">when he wanted more drink, he yelled, </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">PWEASE,</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"> PWEASE,</span></span> <span style="font-size: large; font-weight: bold;">PWEASE!!!!</span><br />
<br />
It's the little things....<br />
<br />
Oh, and before I forget...<br />
The six-year-old question of the day:<br />
(on the walk to school this morning)<br />
Mom, why do birds poop?<br />
<br />
Priceless.Shellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11490103085002140788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959337519529603118.post-62688717653713253162010-03-03T12:41:00.001-06:002010-03-03T12:41:00.317-06:00Looking to the Future<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S43ojZJhf5I/AAAAAAAABII/h9Gb-cHq4oc/s1600-h/bw+eb+nicko.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S43ojZJhf5I/AAAAAAAABII/h9Gb-cHq4oc/s320/bw+eb+nicko.jpg" width="310" /></a></div><br />
Ethan: I'm going to build a house when I grow up!<br />
Me: What kind?<br />
E: Darn it. I won't be able to show you when I get out of college because you'll be dead!<br />
Me: <i>(laughing)</i> I won't be dead then.<br />
E: Oh, well, I'll show you tomorrow. And I'm going to grow lots of crops too.<br />
Me: What kind of crops?<br />
E: Like vegetable crops.<br />
Me: What kind of vegetables?<br />
E: You know, tomatoes....and lettuce.... and cabbage...<br />
Me: <i> (What!? CABBAGE???? Where did that come from? We don't eat or do anything with cabbage.) </i><br />
Then Nick says: <i><b> CABBAGE?????</b></i> <i> In exactly the same 'what-the-heck?' tone as I'm thinking in my head.... It was priceless.</i><br />
<br />
When we were done laughing, Ethan continued telling us about his future house:<br />
<i>And I'm going to have 'birfday' rooms. Actually I'm going to have fourteen. I'm going to have four birftday rooms for my children when they get born, and then the other ten rooms for the family.</i><br />
<i>And I'm going to have a moving roof that goes back. So we can go to that room when the nights are nice and warm and just hangout. And we'll have a front row seat for fireworks!!</i><br />
<br />
Nicholas chimed in about his own future house too: <i> I'm going to have a rocket house!</i><br />
<br />
<i>I love to hear about their ideas of the future... It's so fun! </i>Shellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11490103085002140788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959337519529603118.post-77955771941784006842010-03-03T08:44:00.000-06:002010-03-03T08:44:13.335-06:00I Forgot the Funniest Part!I was tired when I finished the Green Eggs & Ham for Dinner post yesterday, and I just kept feeling like I was forgetting part of it. But I couldn't for the life of me remember. Until this morning. So here it is:<br />
<br />
First, you need a little background info. Ethan still has this thing about the "T-H" sound at the beginning of a word. He says "the", and "they" correctly, but anything else he pronounces with the 'f' sound. So 'think' comes out 'fink', 'three' comes out 'free', 'thing' comes out 'fing'... you get the idea. He <i>can </i>say those correctly, but he has to 'fink' about it first, and he just doesn't care. I've tried. He resists. So I've given up for now, and I figure one of his friends will make fun of him, and then he'll start caring enough to say them correctly. Great parenting, right?<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S451aEL-tXI/AAAAAAAABMQ/SgL2BeGEofU/s1600-h/eb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S451aEL-tXI/AAAAAAAABMQ/SgL2BeGEofU/s320/eb.jpg" /></a></div>Anyhow, we were just done cooking the Grinchy Green Eggs, and he says, "Mom, you know what those remind me of? They remind me of <i>the "F" word!</i><br />
Me: <i>(Somewhat horrified)</i> The "F" word?<br />
E: Yes, you know, that "F" word for when you puke. That "F" word.<br />
Me: <i>(Huh? What word for puke starts with an F? And then it dawned on me....) </i> OH!! You mean, "F-rowing up?" <br />
E: Yeah. That one!<br />
Me: Honey, that's not an "F" word. That's one of those "T-H" words that you don't say the right way. It's <i>throw up,</i> not frow up.<br />
E: Oh, I didn't know. I thought it was an F word. The eggs do look kind of like F-row up, though, don't they?<br />
Me: <i>(laughing) </i> Yes, I guess they do! <i> (And I still don't know why he called it the F word instead of just saying 'frow up' to begin with.)</i>Shellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11490103085002140788noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959337519529603118.post-73962716181949677082010-03-02T23:47:00.001-06:002010-03-02T23:50:34.663-06:00Green Eggs & Ham...It's What's For Dinner!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><b>Happy Birthday Dr. Seuss!</b></i></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S43rcTQmvQI/AAAAAAAABIY/tLABmqLnZzw/s1600-h/seuss+books.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S43rcTQmvQI/AAAAAAAABIY/tLABmqLnZzw/s320/seuss+books.jpg" width="320" /></a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> We love Dr. Seuss at our house. We have a whole tub full of books devoted to him on our bookshelf. Even this blog is partly inspired by him. <i>(The other part of inspiration was my awesome blogging Sis-in-law!) </i>See that quote over there on the right? Yep...Those of the words of the man himself. It's amazing what wonderful advice for both children and parents are in those fun little books. Apparently, I'm not the only one who thinks so either! <a href="http://www.zen-mama.com/www.zen-mama.com/Zen_Mamas_Blog/Entries/2010/3/2_Happy_Birthday_Dr._Seuss%21.html#">Zen Mama</a>'s blog today was about Dr. Seuss and all his wonderful goodness. Check it out for some really great book quotes, and a little background on the man who would have been 106 today!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I pulled out our box of Dr. Seuss books while the boys were at school today. We have several, and usually read at least one at bedtime every night. I found a previously-very-grumpy Nick happily reading them on Ethan's bed. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S43rzTcjkYI/AAAAAAAABIg/gBcm23r4_xY/s1600-h/SAM_1353.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S43rzTcjkYI/AAAAAAAABIg/gBcm23r4_xY/s320/SAM_1353.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Ethan soon joined him and was happy exploring some of the ones that don't usually get picked for bedtime stories.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S43r1WHQRkI/AAAAAAAABIo/Nb7nrIkAKGk/s1600-h/SAM_1354.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S43r1WHQRkI/AAAAAAAABIo/Nb7nrIkAKGk/s320/SAM_1354.jpg" width="185" /></a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Then, it was dinnertime, and the boys decided to be brave and put "Green Eggs & Ham" on the menu. Yes, we really had that for dinner! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S43r3RsIzHI/AAAAAAAABIw/nJUxquQp_9E/s1600-h/SAM_1357.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S43r3RsIzHI/AAAAAAAABIw/nJUxquQp_9E/s320/SAM_1357.jpg" width="310" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">They are always so happy to get to cook something together in the kitchen!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S43r6kF89xI/AAAAAAAABI4/0969YDcZc28/s1600-h/SAM_1359.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S43r6kF89xI/AAAAAAAABI4/0969YDcZc28/s320/SAM_1359.jpg" width="320" /></a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Nick declared, "I'm going to kill the eggs!" </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S43r776PqGI/AAAAAAAABJA/T9ID_JLQZfM/s1600-h/SAM_1360.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S43r776PqGI/AAAAAAAABJA/T9ID_JLQZfM/s320/SAM_1360.jpg" width="254" /></a><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Teamwork!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S43sAXo_PCI/AAAAAAAABJI/lA00EenX-i8/s1600-h/SAM_1361.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S43sAXo_PCI/AAAAAAAABJI/lA00EenX-i8/s320/SAM_1361.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">They worked together and took turns whisking the eggs.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S43sD9sAamI/AAAAAAAABJQ/x7P_gekJTRU/s1600-h/SAM_1362.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S43sD9sAamI/AAAAAAAABJQ/x7P_gekJTRU/s320/SAM_1362.jpg" width="320" /></a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Next, Ethan added the green food coloring. He's holding it in the picture, but it doesn't show up much against his green shirt!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S43sHdlB9GI/AAAAAAAABJY/K4jUkfQ5AmE/s1600-h/SAM_1363.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S43sHdlB9GI/AAAAAAAABJY/K4jUkfQ5AmE/s320/SAM_1363.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S43sLGOQsPI/AAAAAAAABJg/OApwoSMvdRQ/s1600-h/SAM_1366.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S43sLGOQsPI/AAAAAAAABJg/OApwoSMvdRQ/s320/SAM_1366.jpg" width="320" /></a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">They whisked some more....</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S43sN-SfPJI/AAAAAAAABJo/FiPNpZsJCHI/s1600-h/SAM_1368.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="205" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S43sN-SfPJI/AAAAAAAABJo/FiPNpZsJCHI/s320/SAM_1368.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The finished eggs turned out a nice and somewhat pretty green. Kind of a "Grinchy" green. Appropriate, right? The picture doesn't do the color justice at all.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S43sR2s5ucI/AAAAAAAABJw/oLKdxsN--wc/s1600-h/SAM_1369.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S43sR2s5ucI/AAAAAAAABJw/oLKdxsN--wc/s320/SAM_1369.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">They wanted their picture with the Grinchy Green Eggs</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S43sTArUGFI/AAAAAAAABJ4/aFy3HBL2GFs/s1600-h/SAM_1370.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="186" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S43sTArUGFI/AAAAAAAABJ4/aFy3HBL2GFs/s320/SAM_1370.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Nick also wanted green ham, so I smooshed some around in a baggie with the food coloring. The result was beyond disgusting, but Nick loved it. The green still isn't showing up enough, even in this picture!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S43sXHCs-ZI/AAAAAAAABKA/hhMNCDZPKTU/s1600-h/SAM_1373.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S43sXHCs-ZI/AAAAAAAABKA/hhMNCDZPKTU/s320/SAM_1373.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Nick with his Green Eggs & Ham dinner</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S43sa8iz9oI/AAAAAAAABKI/6s6HDEXCWhM/s1600-h/SAM_1375.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S43sa8iz9oI/AAAAAAAABKI/6s6HDEXCWhM/s320/SAM_1375.jpg" width="240" /></a><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And again, about to take the first taste...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S43seQg1v2I/AAAAAAAABKQ/jvCwJwKoXy8/s1600-h/SAM_1376.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S43seQg1v2I/AAAAAAAABKQ/jvCwJwKoXy8/s320/SAM_1376.jpg" width="240" /></a><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Ethan didn't want the ham. Can you tell he's less excited about actually having to try them now? I'm sure he's thinking, "I do not like them Sam-I-am!". </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S43sfyYW1AI/AAAAAAAABKY/MnR7lu5zZXk/s1600-h/SAM_1377.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S43sfyYW1AI/AAAAAAAABKY/MnR7lu5zZXk/s320/SAM_1377.jpg" width="228" /></a><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> Nick LOVED that nasty green ham. Go figure.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S43sjlTd2aI/AAAAAAAABKg/lYHgz8BuDnI/s1600-h/SAM_1378.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S43sjlTd2aI/AAAAAAAABKg/lYHgz8BuDnI/s320/SAM_1378.jpg" width="240" /></a><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Totally fake "I'm going to try this" pose....</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S43skpCUIDI/AAAAAAAABKo/VgqP2740dac/s1600-h/SAM_1379.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S43skpCUIDI/AAAAAAAABKo/VgqP2740dac/s320/SAM_1379.jpg" width="280" /></a><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I'm having second thoughts about this.....</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S43slh0lopI/AAAAAAAABKw/Whwy-EjoDJw/s1600-h/SAM_1380.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S43slh0lopI/AAAAAAAABKw/Whwy-EjoDJw/s320/SAM_1380.jpg" width="230" /></a><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Okay, it's official. I tried them, and I do not like Green Eggs <strike>& Ham</strike>! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S43smi-INZI/AAAAAAAABK4/X07dXqiIKEo/s1600-h/SAM_1381.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S43smi-INZI/AAAAAAAABK4/X07dXqiIKEo/s320/SAM_1381.jpg" width="206" /></a><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Still gobbling up the green ham! I DO so like green<strike> eggs &</strike> ham! I like them, Sam-I-am!! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I think I might just need to search out and get the rest of the Dr. Seuss books to complete our collection!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Shellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11490103085002140788noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959337519529603118.post-86599002570998753972010-03-01T08:25:00.000-06:002010-03-01T08:25:34.389-06:00They say the weirdest things....In bed last night, Nick says,<br />
<br />
"Mom! I have bulldozer in my brain!! 'Cuz I just do."<br />
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That one's for you Liz... :)Shellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11490103085002140788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959337519529603118.post-36123099492015285142010-02-23T10:35:00.000-06:002010-02-23T10:35:37.519-06:00A Special Request<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S4QCL2ZGx_I/AAAAAAAABHU/9zQwa5SEi7I/s1600-h/nick+cb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S4QCL2ZGx_I/AAAAAAAABHU/9zQwa5SEi7I/s200/nick+cb.jpg" width="148" /></a></div><b>I got this extremely urgent request from Nick the other day:</b><br />
<br />
<b>Nick: </b>MOM, MOM, MOM!!!! <i>(trying to get my attention)</i><br />
<br />
<b>Me: </b>Hmmm? <i>(still not really listening...)</i><br />
<br />
<b>Nick:</b> Mom,<span style="font-size: large;"> Mom</span>, <span style="font-size: x-large;"><i><b>MOM!!!</b></i></span><br />
<b>You have to turn your brain off!!!!</b> <i>(SO seriously and urgently!)</i> <br />
<b>Me:</b> <i>(Laughing) </i>Ummm....ok. <br />
<i>(Some days that doesn't sound like such a bad idea...) </i>Shellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11490103085002140788noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959337519529603118.post-5437116913362729842010-02-09T21:30:00.000-06:002010-02-09T21:30:00.229-06:00Ethan's Journal Entry<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S3InujhvdVI/AAAAAAAABDw/Z_iwrcH3xus/s1600-h/oops.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S3InujhvdVI/AAAAAAAABDw/Z_iwrcH3xus/s200/oops.jpg" width="171" /></a></div><br />
<b>Ethan, age 7</b><br />
<br />
February 9, 2010<br />
<br />
<i>Today I ate my tooth on accident.</i><br />
<i>Goodnight. </i>Shellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11490103085002140788noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959337519529603118.post-39472184426706716302010-02-04T16:45:00.000-06:002010-02-04T16:45:07.400-06:00Knock Knock<b>Nick: </b> Mom, I got you a joke. <i> (They always, always start with this.)</i><br />
<b>Me:</b> Ok.<i> (And you always, always have to say ok before he'll start.)</i><br />
<b>Nick:</b> Knock knock.<br />
<b>Me:</b> Who's there?<br />
<b>Nick: </b>Big nerd.<br />
<b>Me:</b> Big nerd who?<br />
<b>Nick:</b> A big nerd on a great white!!<br />
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Now, let me just say, that it's almost impossible not to laugh at the weird combos he creates. The jokes are never funny, but the things he puts together are hilarious. We always have a really good laugh, which is the point of a joke anyway, isn't it?Shellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11490103085002140788noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959337519529603118.post-65696269914185832002010-02-02T20:49:00.000-06:002010-02-02T20:49:54.613-06:00Nostalgia<b>I think my three (almost four) year old is nostalgic for his</b><b><i> "childhood"</i>. </b><br />
<br />
Whenever we go to a play area, he spends half his time climbing into <i>and getting stuck in</i> the high chairs.<br />
<br />
At the park, he only wants to swing in the baby swing, and gets stuck there too. <i>I usually have to ask another mom to help me get him out...not at all embarrassing.</i><br />
<br />
Last week he told me he wanted to drink out of a baby bottle again... <i>that's been gone for nearly three years.</i><br />
<br />
I've also noticed him almost sucking his thumb recently. Not quite with the thumb in the mouth, since he never was a thumb sucker, but he's kind of pretending to... <i> he was a binky baby... where does that come from?</i><br />
<br />
And finally, tonight at bedtime, he asked when he could have his "old" bed back. "The big tall one that I had to climb into." <i>THE CRIB? Sheesh. You want to sleep in your baby crib again?</i> <i> We got rid of that last year! What is going on with you?</i><br />
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<br />
Hmmm.... What<i> is </i>going on with you? Is it because you're literally right on the verge of<i> FINALLY GIVING UP THE PULLUPS</i>, completely? Are you torturing me with still having to wipe poop off your butt daily because you don't want your childhood to end? Are you that aware, at three years old, that the end of the pullups is officially the end of being a baby?<br />
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Wow. This started out as a funny post, but now I'm a little bit mind-blown thinking about it. Wow.Shellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11490103085002140788noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6959337519529603118.post-58149614510522528182010-01-31T19:00:00.001-06:002010-01-31T19:00:26.640-06:00Question...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S2YnT8H_gMI/AAAAAAAABDk/d8bJOxpJd8Q/s1600-h/xmas2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_d6RkcMkusf0/S2YnT8H_gMI/AAAAAAAABDk/d8bJOxpJd8Q/s320/xmas2.jpg" /></a></div><br />
Nick: Mommy, is it Christmas yet?<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Nope, not yet. I know it <i>seems</i> like Christmas because you and your brother are going around singing Jingle Bells, Frosty the Snowman, and Deck the Halls, <i>all-day-every-day</i>, but no, it's not Christmas yet. You're only off by 328 days.Shellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11490103085002140788noreply@blogger.com1