<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603</id><updated>2011-07-08T02:39:30.627-04:00</updated><category term='S'/><title type='text'>UFgatorMom</title><subtitle type='html'>Sharing the funny moments and some of the challenges of being a mom of 2 rambunctious toddlers!</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>206</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-8195847380732609493</id><published>2009-10-13T21:33:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-13T21:37:49.364-04:00</updated><title type='text'>She Did It!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;By golly, I think Olivia is getting the hang of #2 in the potty! Tonight she asked George to make a BM in the potty, and she did it! In a way, I thought this day would never come. On the other hand, I know that we all end potty-trained eventually. It's hard to be patient but everything we've read warned us not to make it a power struggle...let her do it on her own time and on her own terms. That approach seems to be working. God knows that all the bribery didn't. My big girl. Sigh. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-8195847380732609493?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/8195847380732609493/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=8195847380732609493' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/8195847380732609493'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/8195847380732609493'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2009/10/she-did-it.html' title='She Did It!'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-4655781164823855518</id><published>2009-10-10T21:57:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-10T21:57:00.281-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The TV Cart</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Grocery shopping with kids in tow has taken on a whole new meaning...I visited a store yesterday that had revolutionary &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=5738235"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;TV Karts&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;. We've all seen the shopping carts with the little fire engine seats on the front for the little ones who need to rush to the 5 alarm fire in the aisle 11. The TV Kart puts the fire engine to shame. Imagine shopping while your brood sits comfortably in the seats while watching Handy Manny, Mickey Mouse, or Special Agent Oso. The screen is about the size of a portable DVD player and there are parental controls on the upper portion of the cart. While they enjoy their cartoons, parents can even enjoy a series of commercials or a brief show on parenting tips. I wish I could say that the novelty of the TV Kart kept my two entranced for the entire journey thru the store. Unfortunately, it would have taken a visit from Special Agent Oso to pry the kids off of each other as they wrestled and pushed at one another. It's a great idea, and while the novelty of the TV Kart wore off quickly, it did make me wonder what else is being developed to help mom get thru the grocery store with two unruly children. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-4655781164823855518?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/4655781164823855518/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=4655781164823855518' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/4655781164823855518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/4655781164823855518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2009/10/tv-cart.html' title='The TV Cart'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-3177000089156076993</id><published>2009-10-08T21:47:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-08T21:57:18.235-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Here Ye Here Ye</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Livy made a big girl poop in the potty! According to George, it was bountiful! She called me at work to tell me the good news. Maybe we're actually making some progress?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Today was picture day at preschool. I dressed Nate in a red corduroy button up, jeans and his new Toy Story cowboy boots. My little cowpoke was looking mighty handsome if I do say so myself. Olivia insisted on wearing her new kitty cat shirt instead of the outfit I had picked. I actually somewhat enjoy when she exercises her independence. I imagine I was behaving the same way when I was her age. Either way, I'm excited to see the pictures. Hopefully they were able to catch a good shot of the siblings together that we can use for our Christmas cards this year. Is that too much to ask?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-3177000089156076993?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/3177000089156076993/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=3177000089156076993' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/3177000089156076993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/3177000089156076993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2009/10/here-ye-here-ye.html' title='Here Ye Here Ye'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-7438977743766402672</id><published>2009-09-18T22:53:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-18T23:10:55.631-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Potty Talk</title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 2px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 1px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.metroactive.com/metro/01.25.06/gifs/rev-0604.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Olivia and Nate have developed a bad little habit lately. They insert the lovely word, "poop" into every possible nook and cranny of a conversation. Apparently they had quite a good time with George one night singing, "Row row row your POOP" which caused Nate to giggle wildly. It's their new favorite pastime. Unfortunately Olivia is calling her brother things like "poopyhead" and it's not quite as cute as the little song they were singing that night. Today we were on our way to get her flower dress altered. I told her we were getting her dress "altered" and she said, "ha ha I'm not a turd! Turd. Turd. You said I was a turd!" Ahh, thanks Dad. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I'm also going to blame this next story on Dad too. He has the propensity for using, ahem, colorful language while driving. Not always cursing, but when another driver annoys him, there's always a comment. While at a stoplight today, Olivia shouts from the backseat, "c'mon bluehair!" Not seeing an elderly driver near us, I asked, "why did you say 'bluehair?" She replies, "that car with the loud music playing." So, she doesn't really know what "bluehair" refers too, but she thinks that whatever annoying drivers around us are "bluehairs." I so enjoy trying to understand how her little mind works. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-7438977743766402672?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/7438977743766402672/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=7438977743766402672' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/7438977743766402672'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/7438977743766402672'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2009/09/potty-talk.html' title='Potty Talk'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-4962117542955061690</id><published>2009-09-17T21:39:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-17T22:09:05.020-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Little Fishy</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Olivia started swim lessons at the YMCA tonight. Reports from Dad indicate she had a ball and was impatiently waiting her turn to impress the teacher. I think I was about Olivia's age when I jumped in the Zukley's pool and decided to teach myself to swim. She is definitely following in my footsteps in that regard. She's fearless in the water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Hopefully Nate will get a permanent spot in the Perch class. He's on the waiting list right now but they let him participate tonight because there were 3 no-shows. So, while George is helping Nate on one side of the pool, Livy is participating independently in the Pike Plus class on the other end of the pool. I think it will be a fun way for them to spend their Thursday nights. Maybe it will wear them out which means a stress-free bedtime for George! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-4962117542955061690?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/4962117542955061690/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=4962117542955061690' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/4962117542955061690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/4962117542955061690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2009/09/little-fishy.html' title='Little Fishy'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-7994239991839361245</id><published>2009-09-10T18:27:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-10T18:27:00.656-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Taking Daddy to the Zoo</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We became members of the Philadelphia Zoo recently. George hadn't been there yet so one Sunday when it actually wasn't raining (a rarity this summer) we went for a visit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the primate house, we saw some rare White-faced Sakis. They look a little like our children!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SqWJUUDmoNI/AAAAAAAABkU/kjI5ca3Fl40/s1600-h/Berry+Picking_Nates+B-day+Party+012.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SqWJUUDmoNI/AAAAAAAABkU/kjI5ca3Fl40/s320/Berry+Picking_Nates+B-day+Party+012.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378856312038138066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SqWJT1iEynI/AAAAAAAABkM/rxu4BdS_oKM/s1600-h/Berry+Picking_Nates+B-day+Party+011.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SqWJT1iEynI/AAAAAAAABkM/rxu4BdS_oKM/s320/Berry+Picking_Nates+B-day+Party+011.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378856303844444786" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the Big Cat area, Nate got excited about this waterfall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SqWJU6rkKrI/AAAAAAAABkc/ywMU3Sjg5ng/s1600-h/Berry+Picking_Nates+B-day+Party+023.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SqWJU6rkKrI/AAAAAAAABkc/ywMU3Sjg5ng/s320/Berry+Picking_Nates+B-day+Party+023.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378856322406296242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SqWK5fDb2HI/AAAAAAAABk8/BPZsNbWIfVk/s1600-h/Berry+Picking_Nates+B-day+Party+016.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SqWK5fDb2HI/AAAAAAAABk8/BPZsNbWIfVk/s320/Berry+Picking_Nates+B-day+Party+016.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378858050157009010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SqWK58KFKLI/AAAAAAAABlE/wvijxuuxD58/s1600-h/Berry+Picking_Nates+B-day+Party+024.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SqWK58KFKLI/AAAAAAAABlE/wvijxuuxD58/s320/Berry+Picking_Nates+B-day+Party+024.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378858057969510578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The petting zoo is always a big hit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SqWJVmtLkoI/AAAAAAAABks/MjzXRxyp920/s1600-h/Berry+Picking_Nates+B-day+Party+030.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SqWJVmtLkoI/AAAAAAAABks/MjzXRxyp920/s320/Berry+Picking_Nates+B-day+Party+030.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378856334224233090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SqWJVWSndsI/AAAAAAAABkk/gqKg0uUu_LM/s1600-h/Berry+Picking_Nates+B-day+Party+027.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SqWJVWSndsI/AAAAAAAABkk/gqKg0uUu_LM/s320/Berry+Picking_Nates+B-day+Party+027.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378856329817847490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One last bit of fun at the fountain before we left. Next trip we are hoping to visit the new aviary. Olivia has also asked to ride the camels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SqWK6znnq3I/AAAAAAAABlU/Vz7NsQdnqTo/s1600-h/Berry+Picking_Nates+B-day+Party+040.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SqWK6znnq3I/AAAAAAAABlU/Vz7NsQdnqTo/s320/Berry+Picking_Nates+B-day+Party+040.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378858072857357170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SqWLk4EyZGI/AAAAAAAABlc/_AwDRMCH5gw/s1600-h/Berry+Picking_Nates+B-day+Party+043.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SqWLk4EyZGI/AAAAAAAABlc/_AwDRMCH5gw/s320/Berry+Picking_Nates+B-day+Party+043.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378858795607942242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-7994239991839361245?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/7994239991839361245/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=7994239991839361245' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/7994239991839361245'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/7994239991839361245'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2009/09/taking-daddy-to-zoo.html' title='Taking Daddy to the Zoo'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SqWJUUDmoNI/AAAAAAAABkU/kjI5ca3Fl40/s72-c/Berry+Picking_Nates+B-day+Party+012.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-5112837380512353910</id><published>2009-09-09T17:52:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-09T17:52:00.478-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Flower Girl in Training</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SqWHIoJ8DsI/AAAAAAAABkE/EmG8o2L7EfA/s1600-h/Berry+Picking_Nates+B-day+Party+010.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SqWHIoJ8DsI/AAAAAAAABkE/EmG8o2L7EfA/s320/Berry+Picking_Nates+B-day+Party+010.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378853912251731650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Olivia has been asked to be the Flower Girl in her cousin Tricia's wedding on Sept. 26th. We've been talking a lot about what Flower Girls do. She got to try her dress on recently to see how well it fits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found some silver ballet slippers at Target a few days ago. I asked her to try them on, hoping they weren't too big. She slipped her feet in, walked around a bit, then kicked them off. "These damn shoes! They're too big." I tried really hard not to laugh, I really did. This kid is lucky she's so cute. It's the only thing that saves her sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to try and take both kids with me to Michigan. So many of my relatives haven't met Nate yet and it would be a shame to travel all the way there and not take him. Getting through the airports might be interesting, but once we arrive, there will be plenty of extra hands. We are looking forward to seeing everyone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-5112837380512353910?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/5112837380512353910/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=5112837380512353910' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/5112837380512353910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/5112837380512353910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2009/09/flower-girl-in-training.html' title='Flower Girl in Training'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SqWHIoJ8DsI/AAAAAAAABkE/EmG8o2L7EfA/s72-c/Berry+Picking_Nates+B-day+Party+010.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-690887232047157791</id><published>2009-09-08T17:24:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-08T17:24:00.702-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Big Boy Birthday Bash!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Nathan Dean turned 2 on Wednesday, Sept 2nd. We had a little party at their favorite park on Sunday to celebrate. Our good friends, the Kou family, joined us for the festivities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nate had two candles to blow out. If you look closely, you'll see the one in the corner for Livy to blow out...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SqV6xS018HI/AAAAAAAABjM/DfdOk4uWQOg/s1600-h/Berry+Picking_Nates+B-day+Party+038.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SqV6xS018HI/AAAAAAAABjM/DfdOk4uWQOg/s320/Berry+Picking_Nates+B-day+Party+038.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378840317249581170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Poor Livy couldn't contain herself and kept blowing Nate's candles out too. I had to intervene. I remember once when I was a kid, Justin Hawkins blew out all the candles on my birthday cake. I was so devastated. I didn't want Nate to be scarred for life too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SqV6xypgbxI/AAAAAAAABjU/gycjog7RlMM/s1600-h/Berry+Picking_Nates+B-day+Party+037.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SqV6xypgbxI/AAAAAAAABjU/gycjog7RlMM/s320/Berry+Picking_Nates+B-day+Party+037.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378840325791969042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SqV6y3TH5LI/AAAAAAAABjk/pKbHlCE4B38/s1600-h/Berry+Picking_Nates+B-day+Party+041.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SqV6y3TH5LI/AAAAAAAABjk/pKbHlCE4B38/s320/Berry+Picking_Nates+B-day+Party+041.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378840344220132530" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nate of course, cleans his plate. Livy asks for both cake and ice cream but always eats just the ice cream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SqV8R0rN0KI/AAAAAAAABj8/voh5UdtCS_o/s1600-h/Berry+Picking_Nates+B-day+Party+042.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SqV8R0rN0KI/AAAAAAAABj8/voh5UdtCS_o/s320/Berry+Picking_Nates+B-day+Party+042.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378841975603450018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Doug and Christina Kou. She's my Pennsylvania Bestie. They moved her last year from Ohio. She's a nurse and Doug works for Merck. We really enjoy them!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SqV6yen8UCI/AAAAAAAABjc/LeBKza0C--c/s1600-h/Berry+Picking_Nates+B-day+Party+043.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SqV6yen8UCI/AAAAAAAABjc/LeBKza0C--c/s320/Berry+Picking_Nates+B-day+Party+043.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378840337596567586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Christina's parents were visiting from Ohio so they attended the big event also. Nate got some more trains, plus a Super Grover and Sesame Street bracelet from the Kous. Livy even got a present..a dinosaur, dinosaur book and matching Sesame Street bracelet. That was so nice of the Kous!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SqV6zYMVSEI/AAAAAAAABjs/_HJVNqYLaZI/s1600-h/Berry+Picking_Nates+B-day+Party+045.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SqV6zYMVSEI/AAAAAAAABjs/_HJVNqYLaZI/s320/Berry+Picking_Nates+B-day+Party+045.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378840353050019906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SqV8RXl7UaI/AAAAAAAABj0/xRcwHV1MKXU/s1600-h/Berry+Picking_Nates+B-day+Party+048.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SqV8RXl7UaI/AAAAAAAABj0/xRcwHV1MKXU/s320/Berry+Picking_Nates+B-day+Party+048.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378841967796638114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Olivia met a little boy, Luke, at the park. According to his mom, when he saw Olivia carrying around her dinosaur and dinosaur book, it was love at first sight for him. He loves dinosaurs too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We played until it got dark out, hoping the kids would run off the sugar they ingested. On the way home, Livy was talking about her new friend Luke. Nate, who tries to say everything his sister does, started saying "Luke" but it sounded like "gook." We were coaching him on the anunciation, saying, "la la la Luke." He replied, "la la la gook!" He cracks us up!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-690887232047157791?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/690887232047157791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=690887232047157791' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/690887232047157791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/690887232047157791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2009/09/big-boy-birthday-bash.html' title='Big Boy Birthday Bash!'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SqV6xS018HI/AAAAAAAABjM/DfdOk4uWQOg/s72-c/Berry+Picking_Nates+B-day+Party+038.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-7043685239968827980</id><published>2009-09-07T16:56:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-07T17:20:55.073-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Orchard Outing</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Some cute pics of the kids during our berry picking adventures yesterday. We drove up to New Hope, PA and spent a few hours at Solebury Orchards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We spent some time picking blueberries so daddy could make us a pie. Of course, Livy and Nate ate every one they picked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SqV0WS2tOuI/AAAAAAAABiU/1NpdcQ_la6s/s1600-h/Berry+Picking_Nates+B-day+Party+010.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SqV0WS2tOuI/AAAAAAAABiU/1NpdcQ_la6s/s320/Berry+Picking_Nates+B-day+Party+010.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378833256331164386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SqV0VyJ2zgI/AAAAAAAABiM/QjNBdcza6Y4/s1600-h/Berry+Picking_Nates+B-day+Party+004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SqV0VyJ2zgI/AAAAAAAABiM/QjNBdcza6Y4/s320/Berry+Picking_Nates+B-day+Party+004.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378833247553113602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we rode on a big wagon pulled behind the tractor out to the apple orchard. The Galas are ready to be harvested!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SqV3lT7LbaI/AAAAAAAABi0/FjFmlOXX11g/s1600-h/Berry+Picking_Nates+B-day+Party+020.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SqV3lT7LbaI/AAAAAAAABi0/FjFmlOXX11g/s320/Berry+Picking_Nates+B-day+Party+020.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378836812851277218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;George saw a few good apples up high so he climbed right up! He was like our big Papa Bear in the tree!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SqV4BF7xf3I/AAAAAAAABjE/xjv-HXCaNcQ/s1600-h/Berry+Picking_Nates+B-day+Party+025.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SqV4BF7xf3I/AAAAAAAABjE/xjv-HXCaNcQ/s320/Berry+Picking_Nates+B-day+Party+025.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378837290132012914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SqV11sI_YGI/AAAAAAAABis/dxybAQAXbj4/s1600-h/Berry+Picking_Nates+B-day+Party+029.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SqV11sI_YGI/AAAAAAAABis/dxybAQAXbj4/s320/Berry+Picking_Nates+B-day+Party+029.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378834895206309986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nate loves his sissy. It was a really nice day !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SqV0XBTcgQI/AAAAAAAABik/X-S7Bvt9m74/s1600-h/Berry+Picking_Nates+B-day+Party+034.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SqV0XBTcgQI/AAAAAAAABik/X-S7Bvt9m74/s320/Berry+Picking_Nates+B-day+Party+034.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378833268799734018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-7043685239968827980?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/7043685239968827980/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=7043685239968827980' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/7043685239968827980'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/7043685239968827980'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2009/09/orchard-outing.html' title='Orchard Outing'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SqV0WS2tOuI/AAAAAAAABiU/1NpdcQ_la6s/s72-c/Berry+Picking_Nates+B-day+Party+010.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-7504402663004417609</id><published>2009-07-06T10:41:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-06T10:41:00.733-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sprinkler Time</title><content type='html'>It's starting to get hot here and we've had a brief break in the rainy days so Livy has been asking to play in the sprinkler.  They had a lot of fun getting each other (and us) soaking wet!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SlC9rUjk9yI/AAAAAAAABg8/FU_gUty7ft0/s1600-h/Picture+109.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SlC9rUjk9yI/AAAAAAAABg8/FU_gUty7ft0/s320/Picture+109.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354988508893476642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SlC9sP4mEUI/AAAAAAAABhU/GnVe2nAwthY/s1600-h/Picture+150.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SlC9sP4mEUI/AAAAAAAABhU/GnVe2nAwthY/s320/Picture+150.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354988524819321154" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SlC9scXl9QI/AAAAAAAABhc/-cfDIJe28iI/s1600-h/Picture+095.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SlC9scXl9QI/AAAAAAAABhc/-cfDIJe28iI/s320/Picture+095.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354988528170562818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SlC9r4Dcz7I/AAAAAAAABhM/jcHP9dqxtnI/s1600-h/Picture+107.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SlC9r4Dcz7I/AAAAAAAABhM/jcHP9dqxtnI/s320/Picture+107.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354988518422400946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SlC9rtVcXII/AAAAAAAABhE/_bJyKcthN-I/s1600-h/Picture+084.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SlC9rtVcXII/AAAAAAAABhE/_bJyKcthN-I/s320/Picture+084.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354988515545078914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-7504402663004417609?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/7504402663004417609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=7504402663004417609' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/7504402663004417609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/7504402663004417609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2009/07/sprinkler-time.html' title='Sprinkler Time'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SlC9rUjk9yI/AAAAAAAABg8/FU_gUty7ft0/s72-c/Picture+109.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-4930553061029157530</id><published>2009-07-05T10:21:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-05T10:40:03.967-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunday Ride</title><content type='html'>Here are some pics of a recent bike ride we took. There's a bike trail less than a mile from our house that runs along a nice creek. We stopped at a day use area for a picnic and Olivia spotted the smallest toad we've ever seen! On the way home, it was time for nice dip in the creek.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SlC6WhxZOFI/AAAAAAAABgs/TyzSTxWbDNg/s1600-h/Picture+020.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SlC6WhxZOFI/AAAAAAAABgs/TyzSTxWbDNg/s320/Picture+020.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354984853128951890" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SlC6oCrvM0I/AAAAAAAABg0/Q8S1dv-cBJ4/s1600-h/Picture+011.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SlC6oCrvM0I/AAAAAAAABg0/Q8S1dv-cBJ4/s320/Picture+011.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354985154021372738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SlC6WAaEK5I/AAAAAAAABgk/EqBSK1ndnzY/s1600-h/Picture+036.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SlC6WAaEK5I/AAAAAAAABgk/EqBSK1ndnzY/s320/Picture+036.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354984844172733330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SlC6VqiYQyI/AAAAAAAABgU/XVTyn4R5HlM/s1600-h/Picture+043.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SlC6VqiYQyI/AAAAAAAABgU/XVTyn4R5HlM/s320/Picture+043.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354984838302024482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SlC6VPwrZ0I/AAAAAAAABgM/IFwRNngvLr0/s1600-h/Picture+032.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SlC6VPwrZ0I/AAAAAAAABgM/IFwRNngvLr0/s320/Picture+032.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354984831114241858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Great way to spend Sunday afternoon!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-4930553061029157530?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/4930553061029157530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=4930553061029157530' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/4930553061029157530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/4930553061029157530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2009/07/sunday-ride.html' title='Sunday Ride'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SlC6WhxZOFI/AAAAAAAABgs/TyzSTxWbDNg/s72-c/Picture+020.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-2120743796360399990</id><published>2009-06-23T18:21:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-23T18:21:01.169-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Moon Sand Mess</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SkAEci1dkLI/AAAAAAAABgE/YqmqZGfpu9s/s1600-h/100_0156.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SkAEci1dkLI/AAAAAAAABgE/YqmqZGfpu9s/s320/100_0156.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350281245750038706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see a pattern developing with my posts...they seem to be about the kids creating messes. Imagine!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is what happens when your diaper-less son crawls up on the table and sits in a pile of Moon Sand...kind of gives a new meaning to the name "Moon" Sand, huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-2120743796360399990?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/2120743796360399990/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=2120743796360399990' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/2120743796360399990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/2120743796360399990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2009/06/moon-sand-mess.html' title='Moon Sand Mess'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SkAEci1dkLI/AAAAAAAABgE/YqmqZGfpu9s/s72-c/100_0156.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-3746521853321695519</id><published>2009-06-22T17:59:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T18:21:24.924-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Father's Day Craft</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We attempted to make Daddy some stepping stones for the garden. The kids really like to do crafts but it's always such a mess. Why is it that the fun kids have is proportional to the messiness of the activity? It was a plaster nightmare. Well at least it kept them busy for 20 minutes or so. I think it took me twice that long to clean everything up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Phase I: mix the plaster and pour into the molds. Must dry overnite. We put glitter and glass beads in the heart shaped one. The other one had to dry before we could paint it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SkAB8XuPSXI/AAAAAAAABfs/1Pxdevm3X6Q/s1600-h/100_0148.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SkAB8XuPSXI/AAAAAAAABfs/1Pxdevm3X6Q/s320/100_0148.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350278493987883378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SkAB8q0p5kI/AAAAAAAABf0/Grlue7t3uy8/s1600-h/100_0152.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SkAB8q0p5kI/AAAAAAAABf0/Grlue7t3uy8/s320/100_0152.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350278499115066946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Phase II: On Father's Day morning, the kids painted the stepping stone...and themselves! Here they are with Daddy covered in paint. They went straight into the tub. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;At least I had the presence of mind to make them paint nude so they didn't ruin any clothes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SkAB8_F7vnI/AAAAAAAABf8/AEFyWLJvTmQ/s1600-h/100_0162.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SkAB8_F7vnI/AAAAAAAABf8/AEFyWLJvTmQ/s320/100_0162.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350278504556248690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The kids also bought Daddy a new Gators shirt and a Big Head Todd sticker for the window of his new car. We had a nice day out exploring and even found a nice walking trail. Even Charlie was paying special attention to George, sitting in his lap. What a nice contrast to last Father's Day when he was still so scared of George that he'd run and hide under the bed if George as much as looked in his direction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next year we're hoping to get Daddy a flat screen TV, or at least a new recliner! Dream big right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-3746521853321695519?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/3746521853321695519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=3746521853321695519' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/3746521853321695519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/3746521853321695519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2009/06/fathers-day-craft.html' title='Father&apos;s Day Craft'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SkAB8XuPSXI/AAAAAAAABfs/1Pxdevm3X6Q/s72-c/100_0148.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-7821436412022150041</id><published>2009-06-14T08:12:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-14T08:12:01.127-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't Talk to Strangers!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;On the way to the park a few weeks ago, we began to have the "stranger" conversation with Olivia. We began with the definition of a stranger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"A stranger is anyone you don't know."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We elaborated: Even if the person looks nice, they are still a stranger. If the person has a puppy in their car they want you to go pet it, you tell them you're not allowed. If they want to give you candy you say "no." If they grab you, yell "HELP" as loud as you can, then poke them in the eye and kick them in the ouchy spot. Then I began to role play with her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hi little girl. I've lost my puppy. Will you help me find it?"&lt;br /&gt;Olivia replies, "sure!"&lt;br /&gt;"No! You're supposed to say "no!"&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, okay."&lt;br /&gt;Let's do another one...&lt;br /&gt;"I've got some candy in my car if you want a piece."&lt;br /&gt;"Oh yeah, I love candy."&lt;br /&gt;"No! Remember, never take candy from a stranger. Do not go to a stranger's car! Yell 'help" and kick him in the ouchy spot!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By this time we've arrived at the park. Walking from the parking lot, Olivia spots the first family (of strangers) she sees and walks over to them. "Do you like strangers?" she asks. Before receiving their response she adds, "just poke 'em in the eye and kick them in the ouchy spot."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well at least I know that if she befriends a dangerous stranger, she'll know how to defend herself. She's a hoot!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Wednesday we went to a different park for a picnic and play time. The kids had big fun on the equipment and in the sandbox. Olivia found two older boys to play with (probably 5 and 7). She was bossing them around. "Chase me! Now, you count to three and I'll hide." The boys were very gracious about playing with a younger girl. I'm sure they're at the stage where girls have cooties. When it was time for them to leave, the younger boy brought Olivia a little bouquet of weed flowers he had picked out of the grass. Plus a big dandelion! What a sweet little boy! His mama is obviously teaching him well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL1nFU8L9I/AAAAAAAABeM/qUCfXeWsg7o/s1600-h/100_0089.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL1nFU8L9I/AAAAAAAABeM/qUCfXeWsg7o/s320/100_0089.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346605759435911122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL1nb85SDI/AAAAAAAABeU/s1cESDMtRwE/s1600-h/100_0096.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL1nb85SDI/AAAAAAAABeU/s1cESDMtRwE/s320/100_0096.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346605765509072946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL1nn9CNaI/AAAAAAAABec/zQb9L1f1k3k/s1600-h/100_0103.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL1nn9CNaI/AAAAAAAABec/zQb9L1f1k3k/s320/100_0103.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346605768730883490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL1oKzfs3I/AAAAAAAABes/liFwhuYWC_k/s1600-h/100_0121.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL1oKzfs3I/AAAAAAAABes/liFwhuYWC_k/s320/100_0121.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346605778086114162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Nate's new favorite thing to do besides say "NO!" of course. I think he learned this new trick from  his sister. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-7821436412022150041?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/7821436412022150041/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=7821436412022150041' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/7821436412022150041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/7821436412022150041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2009/06/dont-talk-to-strangers.html' title='Don&apos;t Talk to Strangers!'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL1nFU8L9I/AAAAAAAABeM/qUCfXeWsg7o/s72-c/100_0089.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-5754238988377624805</id><published>2009-06-12T19:57:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-12T20:11:43.723-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Holy Bejeesus!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Olivia resisted her nap today, as usual. At about 5pm she called from upstairs that she was awake and had a good nap. I doubted this, as she had been making noise for almost the entire time she was in her room. I walk into the room and scream! The first thing I see is a pair of scissors lying on the floor. My eyes move next to the clumps of curly blonde hair scattered about.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjLuSaJ8yPI/AAAAAAAABd0/0n1DI3SalVo/s1600-h/100_0145.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjLuSaJ8yPI/AAAAAAAABd0/0n1DI3SalVo/s320/100_0145.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346597707668310258" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;By this time, George is running up the stairs, having heard my cries. He begins to get very upset. I am just thankful she didn't hurt herself with the scissors and less concerned about the bald spots on her head. I actually began to giggle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjLuSiVd6CI/AAAAAAAABd8/Knc19Sb1UN4/s1600-h/100_0132.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjLuSiVd6CI/AAAAAAAABd8/Knc19Sb1UN4/s320/100_0132.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346597709864101922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjLuS6T3WmI/AAAAAAAABeE/w4CAlUfd_UI/s1600-h/100_0133.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjLuS6T3WmI/AAAAAAAABeE/w4CAlUfd_UI/s320/100_0133.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346597716299831906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember when I gave myself a haircut. I was at Aunt Peggy's preschool and had run out of construction paper. Apparently Carolyn Cade wouldn't share any of her paper with me so I whacked off a ponytail. I promptly received a very short pixie cut.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I consider this an inevitable occurrence. A rite of passage. The hair will grow back but we'll always have the memories!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-5754238988377624805?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/5754238988377624805/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=5754238988377624805' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/5754238988377624805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/5754238988377624805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2009/06/holy-bejeesus.html' title='Holy Bejeesus!'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjLuSaJ8yPI/AAAAAAAABd0/0n1DI3SalVo/s72-c/100_0145.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-5343514826122835319</id><published>2009-06-12T09:52:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-12T09:52:00.375-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Bite of the Big Apple</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.vh1.com/shared/promoimages/bands/d/dave_matthews_band/today_090605/281x211.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 281px; height: 211px;" src="http://www.vh1.com/shared/promoimages/bands/d/dave_matthews_band/today_090605/281x211.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last Friday was our first trip into NYC. On Thursday night I half jokingly suggested to George that he take the next day off and drive me into the city at the crack of dawn. My favorite band was playing at Rockefeller Center on the Today show! I am NOT a spontaneous person so the likelihood of me actually doing this absurd thing was very slight. However, he woke up at 5:15am on Friday morning and said, "You know, if we leave now we can make it in time." I laid there and thought about it for a few minutes, then bounded out of bed! We scrambled around getting ready and packing anything the kids might need. I woke the kids up and told them we were going on an adventure. I was hoping they'd sleep in the car. No luck. George dropped me off in front of Rockefeller Center at 7:20am, parked the car and found a spot farther back to watch the performance. I was probably within 100 feet of the stage. It was pouring rain but still a great time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Si3Ct68gZMI/AAAAAAAABdE/SxlqivUDo7M/s1600-h/IMG_0033.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Si3Ct68gZMI/AAAAAAAABdE/SxlqivUDo7M/s320/IMG_0033.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345142426931586242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Si3Ct2nadII/AAAAAAAABdM/x_jZvkvg08o/s1600-h/IMG_0038.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Si3Ct2nadII/AAAAAAAABdM/x_jZvkvg08o/s320/IMG_0038.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345142425769374850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Here I am, soaking wet and happy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Si3CuKAoWVI/AAAAAAAABdU/YAqdSY2hVI8/s1600-h/IMG_0042.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Si3CuKAoWVI/AAAAAAAABdU/YAqdSY2hVI8/s320/IMG_0042.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345142430975416658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;object width="420" height="356"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.comcast.net/ve/1.0/1143017435/420/356/"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.comcast.net/ve/1.0/1143017435/420/356/" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="420" height="356" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After Dave finished the 8:30am set, we took the kids to walk around Times Square.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Si3CuPmwDYI/AAAAAAAABdc/0_oU-IbijEY/s1600-h/IMG_0043.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Si3CuPmwDYI/AAAAAAAABdc/0_oU-IbijEY/s320/IMG_0043.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345142432477482370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We spent time walking around the M&amp;amp;M World. Three floors of M&amp;amp;M heaven!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Si3DzCu9wmI/AAAAAAAABds/pUnIYSLQDsY/s1600-h/IMG_0050.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Si3DzCu9wmI/AAAAAAAABds/pUnIYSLQDsY/s320/IMG_0050.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345143614433247842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Si3CubsldeI/AAAAAAAABdk/vJ1CEYtyd0k/s1600-h/IMG_0048.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Si3CubsldeI/AAAAAAAABdk/vJ1CEYtyd0k/s320/IMG_0048.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345142435723179490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had originally hoped to see the "Statue of Liverty" as Livy says. The weather and visibility was just too poor. Since we're only a 90 min drive from the city, we'll go back on a sunny day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-5343514826122835319?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/5343514826122835319/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=5343514826122835319' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/5343514826122835319'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/5343514826122835319'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2009/06/bite-of-big-apple.html' title='A Bite of the Big Apple'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Si3Ct68gZMI/AAAAAAAABdE/SxlqivUDo7M/s72-c/IMG_0033.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-1721085501397579618</id><published>2009-06-10T18:11:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-10T18:11:00.659-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Geronimo!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Nate's getting to be a really big, strong boy. And fearless. Dangerous combination.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One night, after we put the kids to bed, George and I were downstairs watching tv. All of a sudden we hear a heck of a thump on the floor above us followed by the pitter pat of little feet and then Olivia screaming. Nate had jumped out of his crib, ran straight over to her bed and began pestering her. Olivia had just fallen asleep and was very upset he had disturbed her. I decided to put her in his crib where she would be somewhat safe from his taunting and try to get him to sleep in her toddler bed. At least he couldn't really hurt himself by falling/jumping out of the toddler bed. I spent 45 straight minutes putting him in the bed and then leaving the bedroom only to have him jump out of bed, run to the doorway, open it just a crack and smile or giggle at me. So, I'd march him back to bed and start the cycle over. After nearly an hour of this, I decided that wouldn't work. We tried to bring him to bed with us. He refused to settle down and sleep. Finally at almost midnight, I put him in Olivia's bed and laid down with him, almost barricading him in. He must have been exhausted and he did eventually fall asleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a few sleepless days and nights trying to figure out how to contain him before we decided to try a crib tent.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.securebaby.com/thumbnail.asp?file=assets/images/crib_tents/sbct01_300x300.jpg&amp;amp;maxx=300&amp;amp;maxy=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="http://www.securebaby.com/thumbnail.asp?file=assets/images/crib_tents/sbct01_300x300.jpg&amp;amp;maxx=300&amp;amp;maxy=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;So far, it's working. He was very angry the first night we zipped him in. Since then, he's figured out that he can't escape, so why bother fighting it? It has been a godsend though. He's too young for a toddler bed and I can't have him getting hurt jumping out of a crib either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The same thing happened with the baby gates recently, for instance. Olivia can open them now and roam freely. That might not be so bad, but Nate follows right behind her and has also learned how to operate the gates. Really, I am just trying to keep these kids from getting hurt but how can I protect them when they're too smart for their own good?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This whole parenting thing is a constant challenge! Just when we think we're one step ahead, they outsmart us again. Drats!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-1721085501397579618?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/1721085501397579618/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=1721085501397579618' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/1721085501397579618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/1721085501397579618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2009/06/geronimo.html' title='Geronimo!'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-2429055828317635904</id><published>2009-06-09T21:34:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-09T21:34:00.171-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Springtime Fun</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The kids have been enjoying their time "outs" as Nathan says. Olivia decided to pick a few pieces of fern and pretend she was a bird and the ferns were her wings. Nate likes to do everything his big sister does so he started running around with a fern also.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Si28sFxLqdI/AAAAAAAABck/UImnIqap0L4/s1600-h/100_0027.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Si28sFxLqdI/AAAAAAAABck/UImnIqap0L4/s320/100_0027.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345135798407375314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Si28ri2-ZfI/AAAAAAAABcc/tDjWVFaVxBk/s1600-h/100_0016.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Si28ri2-ZfI/AAAAAAAABcc/tDjWVFaVxBk/s320/100_0016.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345135789036430834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Olivia's obsession with worms continues. Nate does NOT share her fascination with the creepy crawlers. As soon as she hands him one and it moves, he throws it down!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Si28rer6aZI/AAAAAAAABcU/bd2p4k9WLqQ/s1600-h/100_0010.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Si28rer6aZI/AAAAAAAABcU/bd2p4k9WLqQ/s320/100_0010.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345135787916290450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Si28rHW7cRI/AAAAAAAABcM/25jt55zplg0/s1600-h/100_0004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Si28rHW7cRI/AAAAAAAABcM/25jt55zplg0/s320/100_0004.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345135781654262034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Big sissy is learning how to push her brother on the swing. Nate loved it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Si28sVqqRXI/AAAAAAAABcs/Hh1hLZixKPQ/s1600-h/100_0034.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Si28sVqqRXI/AAAAAAAABcs/Hh1hLZixKPQ/s320/100_0034.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345135802674988402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is George's pride and joy. A free mower he found in an alley and got to run, against all odds!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Si29-zegx9I/AAAAAAAABc0/3b9SNkviKa4/s1600-h/100_0050.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Si29-zegx9I/AAAAAAAABc0/3b9SNkviKa4/s320/100_0050.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345137219426371538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Here is the little patio George built for his grill using random stepping stones from an overgrown pathway in our yard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Si29_LNBd_I/AAAAAAAABc8/Bos3nh8YtoU/s1600-h/100_0046.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Si29_LNBd_I/AAAAAAAABc8/Bos3nh8YtoU/s320/100_0046.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345137225795467250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And here are my boys in their matching Crocs. Of course, Olivia had to stick her foot in the picture too. She's holding out for a pair of Scooby Crocs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-2429055828317635904?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/2429055828317635904/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=2429055828317635904' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/2429055828317635904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/2429055828317635904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2009/06/springtime-fun.html' title='Springtime Fun'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Si28sFxLqdI/AAAAAAAABck/UImnIqap0L4/s72-c/100_0027.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-5693585260429172247</id><published>2009-06-08T21:17:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-08T21:33:58.793-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Under the Big Top</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We took the kids to a local Shriners circus on Sunday. It was, by no means, Ringling Brothers, but the kids did enjoy themselves. Olivia said her favorite thing was the clowns. I think Nate liked the motorcycle that rode a tightwire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Si25Ri3A3uI/AAAAAAAABbk/bQt4lvfb9E0/s1600-h/100_0058.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Si25Ri3A3uI/AAAAAAAABbk/bQt4lvfb9E0/s320/100_0058.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345132043825110754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Si25SDAyL6I/AAAAAAAABbs/5LSnFyTjpSA/s1600-h/100_0059.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Si25SDAyL6I/AAAAAAAABbs/5LSnFyTjpSA/s320/100_0059.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345132052456026018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Of course, both kids got to eat a snow cone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Si25SRB74GI/AAAAAAAABb0/BugrkaDjaO8/s1600-h/100_0064.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Si25SRB74GI/AAAAAAAABb0/BugrkaDjaO8/s320/100_0064.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345132056218951778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Si25SvcxBBI/AAAAAAAABb8/aYxkt8d_DPI/s1600-h/100_0066.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Si25SvcxBBI/AAAAAAAABb8/aYxkt8d_DPI/s320/100_0066.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345132064384549906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Olivia is amazed by the death defying acts!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Si25S22-YRI/AAAAAAAABcE/1ta-FU3drCc/s1600-h/100_0070.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Si25S22-YRI/AAAAAAAABcE/1ta-FU3drCc/s320/100_0070.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345132066373525778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The girl on the upper bar is the youngest professional tight-rope walker at only 10 years old!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a nice way to spend a Sunday evening!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-5693585260429172247?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/5693585260429172247/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=5693585260429172247' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/5693585260429172247'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/5693585260429172247'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2009/06/under-big-top.html' title='Under the Big Top'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Si25Ri3A3uI/AAAAAAAABbk/bQt4lvfb9E0/s72-c/100_0058.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-1063417256469042519</id><published>2009-05-16T12:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-16T12:00:01.099-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Snack Dance</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I've written before about Olivia's love of fruits and vegetables.  That's not to say she doesn't also love candy and ice cream; however, I *do* consider myself lucky that at least she is getting most of her recommended fruit and veggie servings daily. Were it not for her occasional request for pork or steak I might consider her a wannabe vegetarian.  The other day she snuck into the kitchen and opened up the fridge. She comes out requesting some celery, stalks in hand. I cut her up some celery and then low and behold she spies the strawberries on the counter and wants those too. After she and Nate were snacking on their celery and strawberries, she began to dance around and sing about her love of celery and strawberries. It went something like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" &gt;"I love celery!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love strawberries!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;They are my favorite snacks!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I had it on video! It was super cute!  Here they are enjoying their celery and strawberries.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Sg3sQ4z9ePI/AAAAAAAABbc/atx9Lo9_txw/s1600-h/Picture+016.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Sg3sQ4z9ePI/AAAAAAAABbc/atx9Lo9_txw/s320/Picture+016.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336180908376291570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-1063417256469042519?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/1063417256469042519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=1063417256469042519' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/1063417256469042519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/1063417256469042519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2009/05/snack-dance.html' title='The Snack Dance'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Sg3sQ4z9ePI/AAAAAAAABbc/atx9Lo9_txw/s72-c/Picture+016.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-330384550508469516</id><published>2009-05-15T17:55:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-15T18:12:01.395-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Ta Daa!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Here are Nate's first pair of big boy drawers! Of course he's not potty trained yet but at least when he wants to parade around in underwear he'll have his own to wear instead of stealing his sister's!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Sg3lDja6BjI/AAAAAAAABbM/REfp0QcSjLY/s1600-h/Picture+018.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Sg3lDja6BjI/AAAAAAAABbM/REfp0QcSjLY/s320/Picture+018.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336172982714369586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is the cutest lil butt I've ever seen. My baby is growing up...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Sg3lD_Iu0TI/AAAAAAAABbU/bNQu74gcSN4/s1600-h/Picture+029.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Sg3lD_Iu0TI/AAAAAAAABbU/bNQu74gcSN4/s320/Picture+029.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336172990154330418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We're still struggling to keep a diaper on him. He pulls down his pants and peels the diaper off. He loves to run around the house "commando" and then pee on my floor. The only thing I found that semi-works (or at least slows him down) is to put overalls on him. It took about a week before he figured out how to escape those too. He keeps outsmarting us! We're running out of options here trying to keep the little stinker clothed! He's one determined little nudist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-330384550508469516?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/330384550508469516/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=330384550508469516' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/330384550508469516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/330384550508469516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2009/05/ta-daa.html' title='Ta Daa!'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Sg3lDja6BjI/AAAAAAAABbM/REfp0QcSjLY/s72-c/Picture+018.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-778560369912467049</id><published>2009-05-04T20:41:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-04T21:37:55.712-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Kitchen Helper</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Olivia loves to help me in the kitchen. Yesterday I was making meatloaf and as usual, she asked to help. After I got all the ingredients in the bowl, I let her mix them with her hands. She pulled her hands back out of the bowl and said, "Ew yuck. Rotten bloody meat!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I swear this girl is part vegetarian. On the way home from the movie theatre, George was hungry so we pulled into BK. She immediately asked for one of his tomatoes, and then some lettuce. She's not interested in any other part of the burger. Tonight at dinner, she ate all her brocoli and asked for a 2nd helping. She did thank me for making a yummy dinner. I asked her what she liked the best and she said, "the brocoli and the meat." I am grateful that I have a child who loves fruits and vegetables. Her brother is a little more selective about his veggies. He loves potatoes and tolerates peas and brocoli. He's just like his daddy!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-778560369912467049?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/778560369912467049/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=778560369912467049' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/778560369912467049'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/778560369912467049'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2009/05/kitchen-helper.html' title='Kitchen Helper'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-5866767338588781447</id><published>2009-04-29T17:45:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-29T18:25:56.985-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Here Fishy, Fishy.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Yesterday we met George's friend from work, Frank, along with his wife and 3 month old baby at a nearby park. The boys wanted to do some fishing. Of course, Olivia and Nate wanted to drown a worm or two also. They even have their own special poles: Scooby Doo for Livy and Spider Man for Nate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SfjLBKEMOII/AAAAAAAABZw/_rDwQC1RYOo/s1600-h/Picture+001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SfjLBKEMOII/AAAAAAAABZw/_rDwQC1RYOo/s320/Picture+001.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330233379735222402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;George caught two fish with the Scooby pole as soon as we arrived. It was very exciting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SfjM9anuEPI/AAAAAAAABaY/9KmM8UUlVl4/s1600-h/Picture+021.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SfjM9anuEPI/AAAAAAAABaY/9KmM8UUlVl4/s320/Picture+021.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330235514482987250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SfjM9or98wI/AAAAAAAABag/IjasevE8BpI/s1600-h/Picture+022.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SfjM9or98wI/AAAAAAAABag/IjasevE8BpI/s320/Picture+022.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330235518258901762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Apparently these are some smart fish though. No one caught a thing after the first two that were reeled in. They were not going to be fooled. Olivia was getting increasingly frustrated. She'd walk along the bank of the pond saying, "Here fishy fishy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SfjLBWfxyXI/AAAAAAAABZ4/PnO29OUyp7g/s1600-h/Picture+006.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SfjLBWfxyXI/AAAAAAAABZ4/PnO29OUyp7g/s320/Picture+006.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330233383072156018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Per usual, she seems more interested in inspecting the bugs. You may remember our first fishing trip to Lake Como where her love affair with worms began.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What trip to the pond would be complete without at least one child falling in? Nate decided to take a slightly more direct route to catching fish: jump right in with them. George's back was turned to the tackle box as I saw it happening from a few feet away. Per MY usual in an emergency, I can't speak. I just blurt out nonsense sounds. Yesterday it was "WOOT WOOT!" Seriously. No joking. Everyone knows I have something to say about everything. But when it comes time to sound the alert, I become a mute. This is highly aggravating to George of course, who slid into the water to rescue Nate. "Why couldn't you have said something" he asked. "Well, you heard my alert sound, then a splash. You're a man of science. I knew you'd figure it out."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, Nate was soaked and scared, but uninjured, except for any pond scum he may have injested that is incubating into some sort of superbug by now. Sure to win the "mom of the year" award, I didn't even have a spare set of clothes for him. I did have diapers though! Do I get points for that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SfjLBXsrorI/AAAAAAAABaA/0R3hEpqzxB0/s1600-h/Picture+008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SfjLBXsrorI/AAAAAAAABaA/0R3hEpqzxB0/s320/Picture+008.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330233383394714290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Nate loves geese and ducks. He caught sight of this one and began chasing after it, calling "bawk bawk!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SfjM9ihf8oI/AAAAAAAABao/nNXTsx0N20M/s1600-h/Picture.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SfjM9ihf8oI/AAAAAAAABao/nNXTsx0N20M/s320/Picture.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330235516604379778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We sat patiently and waited to see how close Mr. Goose would get to us. In this shot, I wasn't using any zoom. He was very brave and curious. I kept hoping he wouldn't turn and nip at one of us. I'll never forget getting chased down by a ferrell goose at the KOA when I was a kid. I didn't want Nate to be emotionally scarred for life like I am. I was ready to take that bird down if he got too close with that beak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SfjLB84qpII/AAAAAAAABaQ/FR2YD5BAGq0/s1600-h/Picture+010.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SfjLB84qpII/AAAAAAAABaQ/FR2YD5BAGq0/s320/Picture+010.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330233393377092738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Back to try our hand at some more angling. Nate loves to pretend to cast like Daddy. It's really super cute. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SfjLBttvwBI/AAAAAAAABaI/ouVjHPqcrCc/s1600-h/Picture+014.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SfjLBttvwBI/AAAAAAAABaI/ouVjHPqcrCc/s320/Picture+014.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330233389304758290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Here he is looking like a little Huck Finn, sitting on the shore just waiting for a fish to bite. I wish Grandpa Dan could see his little anglers in action. He'd be so proud!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-5866767338588781447?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/5866767338588781447/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=5866767338588781447' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/5866767338588781447'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/5866767338588781447'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2009/04/here-fishy-fishy.html' title='Here Fishy, Fishy.'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SfjLBKEMOII/AAAAAAAABZw/_rDwQC1RYOo/s72-c/Picture+001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-1697111090176921963</id><published>2009-04-27T09:25:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-27T09:41:05.585-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Panty Raid</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I think it's time to buy Nate some big boy drawers. For one thing, I can't keep a diaper on him. He's constantly pulling it off. He's also frequently trying to put on pairs of Livy's panties that he finds laying around. (Sorry for the blurry picture. Nate had smudged my lens.)&lt;br /&gt; &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SfWy5nLM5AI/AAAAAAAABZg/3pScbqxWWCM/s1600-h/Picture+143.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SfWy5nLM5AI/AAAAAAAABZg/3pScbqxWWCM/s320/Picture+143.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329362436901102594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A big fan of hats, he's also been caught with a pair on his head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SfWy51Wn8aI/AAAAAAAABZo/5gkq-K6kNqc/s1600-h/Picture+144.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SfWy51Wn8aI/AAAAAAAABZo/5gkq-K6kNqc/s320/Picture+144.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329362440707109282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Twenty months is probably too early to start serious potty training, but he's definitely giving us signs that he's interested. He hates to wear a dirty diaper and will tell us if he's pooped. He also likes to sit on the big boy potty. I am looking very forward to the day that we say "bye bye diapers" with both kids for good!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-1697111090176921963?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/1697111090176921963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=1697111090176921963' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/1697111090176921963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/1697111090176921963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2009/04/panty-raid.html' title='Panty Raid'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SfWy5nLM5AI/AAAAAAAABZg/3pScbqxWWCM/s72-c/Picture+143.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-6199614012248028720</id><published>2009-04-25T21:49:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-25T23:00:35.412-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It Was a Hot One!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SfPORQez-7I/AAAAAAAABZY/Llk2o6CuO7w/s1600-h/logo-tree-line-02.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 78px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SfPORQez-7I/AAAAAAAABZY/Llk2o6CuO7w/s320/logo-tree-line-02.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328829579986729906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We spent a few hours today at the Whitemarsh Township's 10th Annual Township Day. By the time we got there at 1:30pm, it was already in the high 80s and not a cloud in the sky. With the kids lathered in sunscreen and ride tickets in hand, we headed towards the inflatable attractions. Olivia patiently waited in line, gave the man her ticket, and crawled cautiously into the bouncy structure. She then promptly decided there were too many kids in there and backed out. She was brave enough to try the next bouncy thing but stayed right at the front by the door where she could see me. She's very cautious about these kind of things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SfPILApqsrI/AAAAAAAABYw/s61bXWPRDAU/s1600-h/IMG_3153.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SfPILApqsrI/AAAAAAAABYw/s61bXWPRDAU/s320/IMG_3153.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328822875588309682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We stopped by the Pin the Tail on the Donkey game and Olivia wanted to try. Olivia's instructions were to close her eyes, turn around three times, and then try and pin the tail on the donkey. Instead, she maybe closed one eye, turned about 1/4 of a turn, and then walked right over to the donkey and stuck the tail on the perfect spot. It was cute, and she won a prize. She picked out a pink inflatable ant!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SfPIMD9wSsI/AAAAAAAABZQ/CE0eSb62iaM/s1600-h/IMG_3172.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SfPIMD9wSsI/AAAAAAAABZQ/CE0eSb62iaM/s320/IMG_3172.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328822893657737922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;While Livy was bouncing and playing games, Nate got to spend some time looking at the fire trucks and police vehicles. George said he really enjoyed that. By the time we met back out, George was worn out and sweaty from chasing Nate in the intrepid heat. We decided to wait in line for a pony ride and then call it a day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SfPILQ6SawI/AAAAAAAABY4/bLsxL_s1fr0/s1600-h/IMG_3157.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SfPILQ6SawI/AAAAAAAABY4/bLsxL_s1fr0/s320/IMG_3157.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328822879952988930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Olivia made fast friends with this little boy who was in line behind us. She was very interested in the prizes he had collected, particularly a little sticky octopus. She waited very patiently for her turn to ride and appeared so confident that they gave her the biggest pony they had to ride!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SfPILozF3eI/AAAAAAAABZA/INnhH5e1CL8/s1600-h/IMG_3165.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SfPILozF3eI/AAAAAAAABZA/INnhH5e1CL8/s320/IMG_3165.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328822886365257186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Here she is looking like a pro on Gem the Pony.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SfPIL5z5lqI/AAAAAAAABZI/UzFVXLvENBw/s1600-h/IMG_3168.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SfPIL5z5lqI/AAAAAAAABZI/UzFVXLvENBw/s320/IMG_3168.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328822890932049570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We decided to let Nate take a ride too. He held on like a little champ and didn't seem scared at all. When I asked him tonight if he enjoyed his pony ride, he nodded his head emphatically "YES!" and then kept pointing to outside. I think he's already looking forward to his next pony ride.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Despite the unexpected heat, Whitemarsh Township Day was a nice way to spend a few hours with the kids. On the way home, Olivia asked if we can go to Sesame Place next. So many fun things to do! We need to plant a money tree to fund all these activities. Or win the powerball.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-6199614012248028720?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/6199614012248028720/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=6199614012248028720' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/6199614012248028720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/6199614012248028720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2009/04/it-was-hot-one.html' title='It Was a Hot One!'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SfPORQez-7I/AAAAAAAABZY/Llk2o6CuO7w/s72-c/logo-tree-line-02.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-4909836781168016089</id><published>2009-04-24T09:44:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-24T09:44:00.923-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Please Touch Museum Finale</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;It was all about making music in Rainforest Rhythm.  As you can imagine, it was a dark and mysterious area with noises coming from every nook and cranny. I missed taking pictures of a few of the coolest features. One of them was this big tree with different instruments like cow bells hanging in it's branches. The instruments were all connected to long cables that were attached to the floor. Olivia had fun standing under the branches and moving the cables to make music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Se_IZ_cAkAI/AAAAAAAABYg/1-xFHbjdyGY/s1600-h/Picture+129.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Se_IZ_cAkAI/AAAAAAAABYg/1-xFHbjdyGY/s320/Picture+129.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327697233053782018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Olivia hopped from frog to frog on this log while Nate was more interested in inspecting the frogs close up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Se_IZ7ud0nI/AAAAAAAABYY/S5xAnNBIZZw/s1600-h/Picture+128.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Se_IZ7ud0nI/AAAAAAAABYY/S5xAnNBIZZw/s320/Picture+128.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327697232057455218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It's no secret that Nate loves music and instruments. He looked like a mini Beethoven sitting in front of this little piano. He really enjoyed playing and took it very seriously, not banging on the keys like most 19 month old boys would do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Se_IaKXXNII/AAAAAAAABYo/9bnJvS-RhpE/s1600-h/NMPIANY.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 246px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Se_IaKXXNII/AAAAAAAABYo/9bnJvS-RhpE/s320/NMPIANY.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327697235987084418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They also got to play on mini xylophones and bongo drums before heading home. It was truly a wonderful time and we can't wait to return!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-4909836781168016089?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/4909836781168016089/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=4909836781168016089' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/4909836781168016089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/4909836781168016089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2009/04/please-touch-museum-finale.html' title='Please Touch Museum Finale'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Se_IZ_cAkAI/AAAAAAAABYg/1-xFHbjdyGY/s72-c/Picture+129.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-5235968749773598409</id><published>2009-04-23T12:00:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-23T12:00:00.795-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Please Touch Pt. 5</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I'm sure I've read &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" &gt;Alice in Wonderland&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; at some point but being of the MTV generation, my most prominent Wonderland memory is of a trippy Tom Petty &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" &gt;Alice in Wonderland&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; themed music video. I'm bad about books anyway. I love to read, but rarely remember much of the books I've read. This area in the museum was really neat. It made me think that I need to read the book again. I'm sure some (or most) of the magic of the story was lost on me. Olivia and Nate had fun in this imaginary land though!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Se_BeVwE-NI/AAAAAAAABXg/uWUvvyuNj6A/s1600-h/Picture+097.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Se_BeVwE-NI/AAAAAAAABXg/uWUvvyuNj6A/s320/Picture+097.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327689611181619410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Olivia had a spot of tea in the Duchesses' Kitchen before stopping by the Mad Hatter's Tea Party.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Se_BermM5iI/AAAAAAAABXw/lj1M2MHjQgw/s1600-h/Picture+104.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Se_BermM5iI/AAAAAAAABXw/lj1M2MHjQgw/s320/Picture+104.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327689617045775906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Se_BeUHDf1I/AAAAAAAABXo/Bw7Y1FRddPY/s1600-h/Picture+102.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Se_BeUHDf1I/AAAAAAAABXo/Bw7Y1FRddPY/s320/Picture+102.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327689610741120850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The toddler area in Wonderland was Fairytale Garden. Young and old alike revisit their favorite fairy tales. Olivia was milking a cow with udders that felt life like and when squeezed, caused the cow to moo. This scared Nate. He wanted no part of that. He did like the goose and her golden eggs though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Se_Be9qcgPI/AAAAAAAABX4/alWTwbFxtFY/s1600-h/Picture+117.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Se_Be9qcgPI/AAAAAAAABX4/alWTwbFxtFY/s320/Picture+117.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327689621895414002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Se_FYhjL6_I/AAAAAAAABYI/IHIldcyLgXY/s1600-h/Picture+119.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Se_FYhjL6_I/AAAAAAAABYI/IHIldcyLgXY/s320/Picture+119.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327693909316070386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a wooden replica of a boat that Nate really enjoyed. He liked to be at the helm steering. It was funny to see the little boys gravitate to this area while the little girls were more interested in the play house. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Se_IZm_i6MI/AAAAAAAABYQ/RUSosiomGEo/s1600-h/Picture+116.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Se_IZm_i6MI/AAAAAAAABYQ/RUSosiomGEo/s320/Picture+116.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327697226491947202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Se_BfKh5LuI/AAAAAAAABYA/-m2RIaoPOc4/s1600-h/Picture+115.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Se_BfKh5LuI/AAAAAAAABYA/-m2RIaoPOc4/s320/Picture+115.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327689625349205730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My favorite part of Fairytale Land was the "Three Little Kittens" area. There was a little clothesline with a basket of mittens and clothespins below. Olivia had fun hanging up the little lost mittens while I read the nursery rhyme to her which was stenciled on the wall behind the clothesline. It's just really neat to see how they were able to bring the fairytales to life in an interactive way for the kids. Again, they thought of&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; everything&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We finished our day with a musical Rainforest Adventure. Check back for that post!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-5235968749773598409?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/5235968749773598409/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=5235968749773598409' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/5235968749773598409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/5235968749773598409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2009/04/please-touch-pt-5.html' title='Please Touch Pt. 5'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Se_BeVwE-NI/AAAAAAAABXg/uWUvvyuNj6A/s72-c/Picture+097.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-526944045934294475</id><published>2009-04-22T20:20:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-22T21:43:50.102-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Please Touch Museum Pt. 4</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;In City Capers, the kids got to explore different attractions commonly found in a city. There was a mini McDs where Olivia practiced putting together a burger. "Two all beef patties, special sauce, lettuce, cheese, on a sesame seed bun." After constructing her burger, she slid her tray over to the cashier and paid. As most of you know, Olivia loves to play "McADonald's" at home so this was a big hit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Se-1AOPBHZI/AAAAAAAABWI/ZJaT7XiAazg/s1600-h/Picture+062.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Se-1AOPBHZI/AAAAAAAABWI/ZJaT7XiAazg/s320/Picture+062.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327675899628297618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Then she was off to work her shift at the local children's hospital. She gave the baby a thorough exam before putting her in a crib for a nap. This might have been her favorite part of the city. She kept running around the ward inspecting other kids and their "patients" and making sure her baby was covered up in the crib properly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Se-1AqeOo8I/AAAAAAAABWY/d9cIdoaM3Ls/s1600-h/Picture+085.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Se-1AqeOo8I/AAAAAAAABWY/d9cIdoaM3Ls/s320/Picture+085.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327675907208291266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Se-376AHvFI/AAAAAAAABWw/lz8RpM2eR68/s1600-h/Picture+088.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Se-376AHvFI/AAAAAAAABWw/lz8RpM2eR68/s320/Picture+088.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327679124012514386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;After finishing her shift at the hospital, Olivia hopped on her scooter to visit the community gardens across town. After all, it is Earth Day and smart girls live green by conserving fuel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Se-1BGHQWMI/AAAAAAAABWo/8AMMtK8sPLQ/s1600-h/Picture+094.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Se-1BGHQWMI/AAAAAAAABWo/8AMMtK8sPLQ/s320/Picture+094.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327675914628126914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;She busied herself planting flowers and Nate helped her cart the plants from one garden to another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Se-1AcM5rbI/AAAAAAAABWQ/fEhk-UYAWdQ/s1600-h/Picture+070.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Se-1AcM5rbI/AAAAAAAABWQ/fEhk-UYAWdQ/s320/Picture+070.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327675903377518002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Se-38N2UolI/AAAAAAAABW4/knFQfSUmdQY/s1600-h/Picture+071.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Se-38N2UolI/AAAAAAAABW4/knFQfSUmdQY/s320/Picture+071.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327679129340125778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Sd_wIwA8R3I/AAAAAAAABV4/HX3sjNL4_uQ/s1600-h/Picture+068.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Sd_wIwA8R3I/AAAAAAAABV4/HX3sjNL4_uQ/s320/Picture+068.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323237317693687666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;One thing I was really impressed by throughout the entire museum were the 1) enclosed toddler areas with plenty of things for the 3 and under crowd and 2) the abundance of thoughtfully placed seating for the adults adjacent to the play areas. They've artfully included the seating in a way that blends right into the exhibits. I kept thinking, "they've thought of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" &gt;everything&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Se-38WBCikI/AAAAAAAABXA/qZt19TjdY0M/s1600-h/Picture+073.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Se-38WBCikI/AAAAAAAABXA/qZt19TjdY0M/s320/Picture+073.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327679131532560962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The last stop in City Capers was a Construction Zone. This was so cool! Nate and Olivia spent the majority of their city time here. You'll see there is a big dump truck with a bed full of foam bricks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Se-38zndL2I/AAAAAAAABXQ/5L-wqdDoJwQ/s1600-h/Picture+095.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Se-38zndL2I/AAAAAAAABXQ/5L-wqdDoJwQ/s320/Picture+095.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327679139478318946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kids got right to work moving the bricks from the bed of the truck to the nearby conveyor belt. Turning a crank on the side of the conveyor moved the belt up and into the adjoining structure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Se-38shuprI/AAAAAAAABXI/Xxpm6QX3Ng4/s1600-h/Picture+096.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Se-38shuprI/AAAAAAAABXI/Xxpm6QX3Ng4/s320/Picture+096.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327679137575249586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Here you can see Nate climbing into the construction area where Olivia is in the background working with a team of kids to build a brick wall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Se-_tbgH1BI/AAAAAAAABXY/hEdJ13-x_fo/s1600-h/Picture+098.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Se-_tbgH1BI/AAAAAAAABXY/hEdJ13-x_fo/s320/Picture+098.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327687671400092690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;There was also a place to unload the bricks into a wheelbarrow for transport back to the dumptruck. Really, this was such a cool area. Kids were running around with little hard hats on moving the bricks back and forth like little worker bees. We had to practically drag them from the construction site. Afterall, Wonderland awaits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-526944045934294475?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/526944045934294475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=526944045934294475' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/526944045934294475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/526944045934294475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2009/04/please-touch-pt-4.html' title='Please Touch Museum Pt. 4'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Se-1AOPBHZI/AAAAAAAABWI/ZJaT7XiAazg/s72-c/Picture+062.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-7034681259082084495</id><published>2009-04-12T10:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-10T20:50:31.875-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Please Touch Museum Pt. 3</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Flight Fantasy&lt;/span&gt; was next. In this area, the kids got to play cloud hopscotch, turn overhead whirligigs by pedaling (Olivia had to use her arms to "pedal" since her legs weren't long enough) and climb through a rocket. Livy made the cloud balance beam look easy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Sd_bCTctGMI/AAAAAAAABUU/TGg0Jawzv34/s1600-h/Picture+042.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Sd_bCTctGMI/AAAAAAAABUU/TGg0Jawzv34/s320/Picture+042.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323214117202106562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Sd_bC8Pg5_I/AAAAAAAABUc/-PwJsPZJuT0/s1600-h/Picture+044.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Sd_bC8Pg5_I/AAAAAAAABUc/-PwJsPZJuT0/s320/Picture+044.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323214128152635378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The adjacent room had stations with foam pieces that the kids use to build their own airplane, hoist it up into the air and see if it will fly. Of course, Nate and Olivia aren't really old enough to be aeronautical engineers yet but Nate did enjoy turning the crank that hoisted the planes and Olivia just ran around like a maniac.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Sd_bDGIQ6FI/AAAAAAAABUk/N_VrrXbuyAk/s1600-h/Picture+047.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Sd_bDGIQ6FI/AAAAAAAABUk/N_VrrXbuyAk/s320/Picture+047.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323214130806581330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Sd_bDhZtl_I/AAAAAAAABU0/KsU5dlcPeKU/s1600-h/Picture+049.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Sd_bDhZtl_I/AAAAAAAABU0/KsU5dlcPeKU/s320/Picture+049.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323214138127521778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Sd_bDa4em5I/AAAAAAAABUs/7fns3ZXYAlw/s1600-h/Picture+052.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Sd_bDa4em5I/AAAAAAAABUs/7fns3ZXYAlw/s320/Picture+052.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323214136377514898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;After soaring through the clouds, we headed downstairs where many adventures awaited us!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-7034681259082084495?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/7034681259082084495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=7034681259082084495' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/7034681259082084495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/7034681259082084495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2009/04/please-touch-museum-pt-3.html' title='Please Touch Museum Pt. 3'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Sd_bCTctGMI/AAAAAAAABUU/TGg0Jawzv34/s72-c/Picture+042.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-8343757166099049990</id><published>2009-04-11T10:50:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T10:50:00.641-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Please Touch Museum Pt. 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The next area we visited was &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" &gt;Roadside Attractions&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;. There were pint-sized Indy cars that little mechanics could fix with removable parts. Nate had a ball driving his Indy Car, while Olivia seemed more interested in being a part of the pit crew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Sd-x0wRGw0I/AAAAAAAABTc/npd7CcaVY6k/s1600-h/Picture+030.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Sd-x0wRGw0I/AAAAAAAABTc/npd7CcaVY6k/s320/Picture+030.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323168804443177794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Sd-ygV_3gYI/AAAAAAAABUM/_GOkzPzCd8M/s1600-h/Picture+029.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Sd-ygV_3gYI/AAAAAAAABUM/_GOkzPzCd8M/s320/Picture+029.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323169553305796994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;While exploring modes of public transportation, Nate decided to drive a city bus and Olivia opted for a relaxing ride on a SEPTA train.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Sd-x0k2cH3I/AAAAAAAABTU/hFhGaMTJSmc/s1600-h/Picture+036.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Sd-x0k2cH3I/AAAAAAAABTU/hFhGaMTJSmc/s320/Picture+036.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323168801378541426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Sd-x1IQgSFI/AAAAAAAABTk/a2uZBF5HQ3k/s1600-h/Picture+039.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Sd-x1IQgSFI/AAAAAAAABTk/a2uZBF5HQ3k/s320/Picture+039.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323168810883106898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The picture below is Olivia climbing inside a real Scion with buttons and a dashboard that the kids can operate. There's also a gas pump and air hose that the kids can use on the car. I thought that was totally cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Sd-x1tH2I4I/AAAAAAAABT0/w7Npb98XQfc/s1600-h/Picture+037.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Sd-x1tH2I4I/AAAAAAAABT0/w7Npb98XQfc/s320/Picture+037.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323168820778902402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;There was one roadside areas we missed: a construction zone where kids who are patient enough to tolerate the long line can operate a bulldozer and move balls around a pit. It looked really cool but the kids were too excited to wait and ran on to the next area.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-8343757166099049990?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/8343757166099049990/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=8343757166099049990' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/8343757166099049990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/8343757166099049990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2009/04/please-touch-museum-pt-2.html' title='Please Touch Museum Pt. 2'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Sd-x0wRGw0I/AAAAAAAABTc/npd7CcaVY6k/s72-c/Picture+030.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-4085431628375399188</id><published>2009-04-10T15:53:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-10T16:48:00.007-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Please Touch Museum Pt. 1</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Well it's been awhile since I've posted (my apologies.) It's not like we haven't been busy doing fun things.  However, I've spent the last two weeks trying to survive the binky removal process. I'm proud to announce that Livy has been without her beloved binky since Monday before last. It's been a rocky ride. I'll spare most of the gory details. She's finally napping and sleeping again without a 1-2 hour fight and a littany of demands including: Elmos, purple blankie, bug pack warmed up, hot chocolate, dinosaurs (all of them-don't dare forget one because you can't fool her) and her magical mask (an eye mask that I sometimes use to sleep.) Once she made sure we had gathered the entire assortment of items, the excuses began: "I can't do it! You didn't give me a hug. You forgot my kiss. My hands are sticky! I need to poop and my ankle hurts." When she finally relented and stayed in her bed, she refused to wear any clothes or a diaper insisting "they make me hot." So, no matter how hard we tried to keep her pjs on, when I'd go in and check them before bed, she'd be undressed and her diaper would be on the floor beside her bed. Invariably, she'd wake up in the middle of the night due to a wet bed. I have to admit, I kept ONE binky just in case. I almost caved a few times and wondered outloud many times if we were doing the right thing. We survived though! Hallelujah and Praise the Lord!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, on to the good stuff!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;George had today off and in the spirit of Good Friday we decided to make sure the kids had a good day with dad home from work. We traveled into Philadelphia's Fairmount Park and spent the better part of the day at the newly re-opened Please Touch Museum. We've been hearing great things about this place and it didn't disappoint. In fact, we took 150 pictures of all the fun the kids had. I think I'll split the pictures and stories up into a series of blog entries instead of trying to cover everything at once. Let's get started!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Sd-ou8iJUqI/AAAAAAAABSk/j3l4qvBXGcM/s1600-h/Picture+017.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Sd-ou8iJUqI/AAAAAAAABSk/j3l4qvBXGcM/s320/Picture+017.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323158809052009122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Sd-ov4D9K7I/AAAAAAAABSs/O1QObxxkQFM/s1600-h/Picture+008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Sd-ov4D9K7I/AAAAAAAABSs/O1QObxxkQFM/s320/Picture+008.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323158825031510962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first exhibit the kids "dived" into was "River Adventure" which is a series of water play stations. Boats, water wheels, faucets, wave makers and rubber duckies make this area almost more fun than a day at the beach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Sd-oxBqzR1I/AAAAAAAABS8/cBhwK-H-KVI/s1600-h/Picture+021.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Sd-oxBqzR1I/AAAAAAAABS8/cBhwK-H-KVI/s320/Picture+021.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323158844790228818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Sd-vIMprCNI/AAAAAAAABTM/Z6Rz8ntUz2Y/s1600-h/Picture+025.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Sd-vIMprCNI/AAAAAAAABTM/Z6Rz8ntUz2Y/s320/Picture+025.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323165839945042130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;There are waterproof smocks for all the kids to wear while playing (Nate still managed to get wet) and even automatic hand dryers posted at just the right height for little hands. That was my first clue that this place had thought of everything! Check back tomorrow to see pictures of our little pit crew enjoying all things automobile!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-4085431628375399188?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/4085431628375399188/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=4085431628375399188' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/4085431628375399188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/4085431628375399188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2009/04/please-touch-museum-pt-1.html' title='Please Touch Museum Pt. 1'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Sd-ou8iJUqI/AAAAAAAABSk/j3l4qvBXGcM/s72-c/Picture+017.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-4221205517265348514</id><published>2009-03-16T13:26:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-16T13:32:07.513-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Singing Scooby</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;For your viewing pleasure, I would like to introduce our American Idol, Olivia!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-dc66b9155080b051" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v22.nonxt4.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Ddc66b9155080b051%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330373982%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D593CE9B4F68943070272FD81BD7DED96A6DCABA1.859B7C8DBB6BFC998DF96B6F71D60ED9034D4054%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Ddc66b9155080b051%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DZzBwdqPl2BvDh6LcBpbUsjp507o&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v22.nonxt4.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Ddc66b9155080b051%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330373982%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D593CE9B4F68943070272FD81BD7DED96A6DCABA1.859B7C8DBB6BFC998DF96B6F71D60ED9034D4054%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Ddc66b9155080b051%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DZzBwdqPl2BvDh6LcBpbUsjp507o&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-4221205517265348514?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=dc66b9155080b051&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/4221205517265348514/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=4221205517265348514' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/4221205517265348514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/4221205517265348514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2009/03/singing-scooby.html' title='Singing Scooby'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-8219491534216573128</id><published>2009-03-16T12:51:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-16T13:25:30.311-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Backyard Fun</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Sb6IfaD05TI/AAAAAAAABSM/ZqDOWaF4EE0/s1600-h/Picture+005.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Sb6IfaD05TI/AAAAAAAABSM/ZqDOWaF4EE0/s320/Picture+005.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313834683496457522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;George spent most of the weekend assembling a small swingset for the kids. He got lots of help from Nate. They were bonding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Sb6D5tgoqcI/AAAAAAAABR8/jU5aOLPsIEo/s1600-h/Picture+005.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Sb6D5tgoqcI/AAAAAAAABR8/jU5aOLPsIEo/s320/Picture+005.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313829637836024258" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Olivia has been swinging like a madwoman. Her favorite thing to do is swing on her belly. (Sorry for the sideways video. I still can't figure out how to rotate a video.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-e83d31c40cd5a928" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v15.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3De83d31c40cd5a928%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330373982%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D79C36A33707616C91FBB9B79081085249460B567.3295FD4428B764AAB36A87B2396115B149DAD22D%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3De83d31c40cd5a928%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DLaSiocE6VLXrS_14a6eZsk9QS3o&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v15.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3De83d31c40cd5a928%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330373982%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D79C36A33707616C91FBB9B79081085249460B567.3295FD4428B764AAB36A87B2396115B149DAD22D%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3De83d31c40cd5a928%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DLaSiocE6VLXrS_14a6eZsk9QS3o&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she swings the regular way, she always wants an underdog. Nate likes to climb up to the slide platform and then climb back down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Sb6IezS4qRI/AAAAAAAABSE/N9V2PrcG9zw/s1600-h/Picture+004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Sb6IezS4qRI/AAAAAAAABSE/N9V2PrcG9zw/s320/Picture+004.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313834673090636050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Sb6If-WkPwI/AAAAAAAABSU/0GHw19ID_uI/s1600-h/Picture+006.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Sb6If-WkPwI/AAAAAAAABSU/0GHw19ID_uI/s320/Picture+006.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313834693238734594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Mostly he wants to run around the yard chasing Charlie with a stick or try to ride the tricycle through the pine needles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Sb6If0NC61I/AAAAAAAABSc/WyoaS0v_Yh0/s1600-h/Picture+018.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Sb6If0NC61I/AAAAAAAABSc/WyoaS0v_Yh0/s320/Picture+018.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313834690514447186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I think we need a big vacuum for the back yard. No way am I raking all of that. I know there must be grass under there somewhere though. Next thing on the list is to get some sand and fill the sandbox. Spring is on it's way. Forecast is 62 on Wednesday!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-8219491534216573128?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=e83d31c40cd5a928&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/8219491534216573128/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=8219491534216573128' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/8219491534216573128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/8219491534216573128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2009/03/backyard-fun.html' title='Backyard Fun'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Sb6IfaD05TI/AAAAAAAABSM/ZqDOWaF4EE0/s72-c/Picture+005.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-3779843872716408198</id><published>2009-03-05T14:16:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-05T14:30:35.903-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Scooby Doo</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.christiananswers.net/spotlight/movies/2002/scoobydoo3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 250px; height: 176px;" src="http://www.christiananswers.net/spotlight/movies/2002/scoobydoo3.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Olivia's new favorite show is Scooby Doo. She always wants to watch the episodes via "on demand" which she calls "on command." We also recently found a few cheap Scooby DVDs that she's always watching. She claims they are too scary for her "aliens, gobble-ins, and scary clowns" but continues to insist on watching them. The other night while we were watching the movie for the first time, she said something really funny. At some point, Fred and Daphne become protoplasmic heads that float around. I asked Livy what happened to them and she giggled and said, "they turned into jellyfish!" Here's a &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/media/rm1261475840/tt0267913"&gt;picture.&lt;/a&gt; I thought that was a very insightful description.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She loves to sing the Scooby song in the car, and asks George to "play Scooby Doo" all the time. She asks him questions and he has to respond in either Scooby's or Shaggy's voice. He tires of that pretty quickly but plays along to appease her. Next thing you know, she'll be calling our car the Mystery Machine. She's funny. That's no mystery to those of us who know and love her!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-3779843872716408198?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/3779843872716408198/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=3779843872716408198' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/3779843872716408198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/3779843872716408198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2009/03/scooby-doo.html' title='Scooby Doo'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-4011022781972959785</id><published>2009-03-02T22:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-02T19:52:36.456-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Kiddos</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Sax9fTplVsI/AAAAAAAABRs/IH6JhrCnClU/s1600-h/Picture+012.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Sax9fTplVsI/AAAAAAAABRs/IH6JhrCnClU/s320/Picture+012.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308756037567076034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It's been awhile since I've written a standard entry about how the kids are growing. I feel bad that often it seems that I'm writing about all the things Olivia is doing, when in reality, Nathan is changing and developing as rapidly. His vocabulary is really expanding. Now he can say "bye bye" and wave, "ni night," and "I love you" sounds more like Dory speaking whale "ahh oooh." All done sounds like "da don," apple is "app," and waffle is "wafffff" with plenty of emphasis on the f. He's so strong too. He's walking up the stairs just holding our hand, not crawling up them anymore. He likes to hop (or try to), dance, and clap. He has a really good throwing arm and loves to play with any ball he can get ahold of. At the park, his favorite things to do are swing and slide. He's fearless. Like his daddy, he has a big heart. What a sweetie. Kisses and hugs are the best. When he hugs, you can feel him patting you with his hand. He loves his puppies and can often be found laying on Charlie or resting his head on Riley. He refuses to leave the dogs' water bowl alone and also sometimes sneaks a piece or two of dog food. It's not unusual for him to spend quite awhile transferring dog food from the bag to the bowl piece by piece. He's very patient in that regard. He's also entering the dreaded tantrum phase. Definitely dramatic, if he doesn't get his way, he throws himself face first upon the floor. If he's hungry and I'm not putting lunch together fast enough, he gets between me and the cabinets and tries to push me around. He's great with a spoon and fork, actually, just as proficient with his utensils as his big sister. He's about 18 months old now. It's hard to believe how big he's getting. Time flies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Olivia. What can I say about Miss Olivia? She's smart as a whip. I don't know where she learns everything she knows. I wish I could take credit. Tonite, she's eating a tangerine and spitting out the seeds. George asks her what would happen if she planted the seed. She said, "it would grow a flower." When he asks her if the plant grew really tall, what would happen, she replies, "it would grow fruit." She's very expressive when it comes to her emotions. A bit bossy and demanding. She's often telling me that she's frustrated or angry, or telling Nate what to do. A funny thing she started doing a few days ago is sticking her butt out and saying, "say hello to the butt."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Potty training has taken a turn for the worse. She was doing really well with her #1 and all of a sudden, she started peeing in her pants again. I haven't pressed the issue. She's back in Pull Ups until she decides to start going in the potty again. Nate, on the other hand, is starting to show an interest in the potty. It usually starts with him running around without a diaper. It's just a matter of time before he starts to pee, at which point, I shriek and run him into the bathroom. The first time he sat on the potty but didn't produce. The second time, he actually started to pee after a minute or so and even pushed my hand away so he could point his own little weiner into the potty. Because he sees sissy wipe, he wanted to use toilet paper too. At this rate he might be potty trained before Olivia!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Sax9fcXBLWI/AAAAAAAABR0/jUKWxeoWrvU/s1600-h/Picture+004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Sax9fcXBLWI/AAAAAAAABR0/jUKWxeoWrvU/s320/Picture+004.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308756039905127778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As far as Olivia's binky, I thought we were really making progress a week or so ago. I've been talking to her about the binky fairy for the last year.  The story is that she would hang her binkies in a bag out in the tree and the binky fairy comes and gets the binkies for new babies and leaves a present. Up until a few weeks ago, if I mentioned this, she would get really mad and yell that the fairy couldn't have her binkies. All of a sudden, she seemed open to the idea of babies needing her binkies and getting a present in return. We even picked out a bag at Target to hang in the tree. She's backsliding a little now though. Today when I mentioned it, she suggested we BUY the babies some binkies instead. She's clever and is usually working every angle to get what she wants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've been keeping busy doing fun things so keep checking back for new posts!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-4011022781972959785?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/4011022781972959785/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=4011022781972959785' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/4011022781972959785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/4011022781972959785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2009/02/kiddos.html' title='Kiddos'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/Sax9fTplVsI/AAAAAAAABRs/IH6JhrCnClU/s72-c/Picture+012.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-5433947776176620190</id><published>2009-02-18T18:01:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-18T18:38:58.355-05:00</updated><title type='text'>D-Day: Daddy Daughter Dora Date</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;On Valentine's Day, George took Olivia to see Dora Live at the Susquehanna Bank Center in Camden, NJ. Dora and Diego are her new favorite characters. She's been asking me to go every time she saw a sign advertising the event. Here are some pictures from their daddy-daughter date.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SZyZEcSTGQI/AAAAAAAABQ0/ExqByKnmGik/s1600-h/Picture+052.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SZyZEcSTGQI/AAAAAAAABQ0/ExqByKnmGik/s320/Picture+052.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304282762727069954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SZyZEj4LUbI/AAAAAAAABRE/0evX0b42Y8k/s1600-h/Picture+073.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SZyZEj4LUbI/AAAAAAAABRE/0evX0b42Y8k/s320/Picture+073.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304282764764991922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SZyZErzeOeI/AAAAAAAABQ8/2F5FhGHZ49c/s1600-h/Picture+061.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SZyZErzeOeI/AAAAAAAABQ8/2F5FhGHZ49c/s320/Picture+061.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304282766892743138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SZyZE0SAqRI/AAAAAAAABRM/SiBe8FR2aZM/s1600-h/Picture+076.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SZyZE0SAqRI/AAAAAAAABRM/SiBe8FR2aZM/s320/Picture+076.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304282769168312594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SZyZFHQuZJI/AAAAAAAABRU/vCmwuk6e2-A/s1600-h/Picture+077.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SZyZFHQuZJI/AAAAAAAABRU/vCmwuk6e2-A/s320/Picture+077.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304282774263194770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Livy got to have popcorn AND cotton candy! How could Daddy say no? When asked what her favorite part of the show was, she said, "seeing Eggo." She can't quite pronounce Diego yet. George said his favorite part was the way they did the character "The Map" Apparently she looked like a big rolled up map with the face cut out so the actor's face would show through. He said it was really cute. He was surprised that they put the Dora actress in a little fat suit so that she'd look as if she was a tad bit plump, just like Dora. It's always interesting to see how they bring cartoon characters to life on stage. It was quite the fun evening outing for Olivia and George. She's so lucky to have a daddy that looks forward to spending time with her at things like this!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-5433947776176620190?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/5433947776176620190/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=5433947776176620190' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/5433947776176620190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/5433947776176620190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2009/02/d-day-daddy-daughter-dora-date.html' title='D-Day: Daddy Daughter Dora Date'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SZyZEcSTGQI/AAAAAAAABQ0/ExqByKnmGik/s72-c/Picture+052.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-5394432003154826707</id><published>2009-02-12T10:27:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-12T11:24:00.171-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Big Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Last Saturday was a big day. Olivia's party was scheduled to begin at 1pm and needless to say, I had plenty to do before our guests arrived. George went out that morning to buy ice melt for the bottom of our driveway. While he was gone and I was cleaning, I set the kids up with a craft project to keep them occupied. The first thing we did was personalize the party treat bags with glittered initials of our guests. While the glue was drying, they wanted to do a little painting. Nate got really "involved" as you can see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SZRA7oIhbqI/AAAAAAAABQE/X8PugPmKMAM/s1600-h/Picture+026.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SZRA7oIhbqI/AAAAAAAABQE/X8PugPmKMAM/s320/Picture+026.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301934054451539618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SZRA76YTGYI/AAAAAAAABQM/ycKJkgskyws/s1600-h/Picture+027.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SZRA76YTGYI/AAAAAAAABQM/ycKJkgskyws/s320/Picture+027.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301934059349547394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As soon as daddy got back from the hardware store, it was into the tub for my little artists. It was about that time that we realized our new adopted dog, Riley, had escaped the yard. George walked around the perimeter of the property and up and down the street to no avail. We were worried sick but had guests arriving soon. To say we were a bit distracted during the party is an understatement. We were all gathered in the dining room enjoying some munchies when a crash was heard coming from the kitchen. I knew right away what it was: THE CAKE! I rushed in to find Olivia's beautiful Nemo cake upside down on the floor. "Olivia!" I called out. She was hiding in the living room. "I'm sorry.  I just wanted to take a peek." Fortunately, we were able to save the cake, and our guests were very gracious about eating it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SZRDW7wl9WI/AAAAAAAABQU/-AQGNNHGhnU/s1600-h/Picture+029.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SZRDW7wl9WI/AAAAAAAABQU/-AQGNNHGhnU/s320/Picture+029.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301936722599605602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SZRDluEsLPI/AAAAAAAABQc/99bw-smEqL8/s1600-h/Picture+032.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SZRDluEsLPI/AAAAAAAABQc/99bw-smEqL8/s320/Picture+032.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301936976623840498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Olivia enjoyed the frosting and the ice cream but wasn't very interested in eating the actual cake.  It was a nice little party with a few friends we've made since we arrived. Our friend Tim took some great&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/timothykeith/sets/72157613473131967/"&gt; pictures&lt;/a&gt; of the kids. After the party was over, I drove around a bit hoping to find Riley. No luck. But later that night, Olivia found a hopeful sign on the kitchen floor...a little ladybug!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SZREljXK6yI/AAAAAAAABQk/p2FYJhpJcFw/s1600-h/Picture+036.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SZREljXK6yI/AAAAAAAABQk/p2FYJhpJcFw/s320/Picture+036.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301938073260190498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I considered this an omen that the dog would be found. Afterall, how often is it that you find a ladybug in your kitchen in the middle of winter?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We spent the next two days hanging flyers, and placing "Lost Pet" reports with the SPCA and local police departments. Monday morning, we visited one of the SPCA shelters hoping she had been turned in. Although we didn't see her there, a lady who saw the ad I placed on Craigslist emailed me at the end of the day that she had seen a puggle listed on the SPCA's website. George called, they asked him a few questions, and they told him that it must be our dog. He stopped there on his way home from work and brought Riley home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SZRL-r8ue5I/AAAAAAAABQs/UzN8jyIAYSE/s1600-h/Riley+027c.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 259px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SZRL-r8ue5I/AAAAAAAABQs/UzN8jyIAYSE/s320/Riley+027c.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301946201643318162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, this tumultuous weekend did have a happy ending. Despite smushed cake and a lost dog, everything turned out ok. Olivia still got to blow out her candles, and we're all back together again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-5394432003154826707?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/5394432003154826707/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=5394432003154826707' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/5394432003154826707'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/5394432003154826707'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2009/02/big-day.html' title='A Big Day'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SZRA7oIhbqI/AAAAAAAABQE/X8PugPmKMAM/s72-c/Picture+026.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-8767443394003416420</id><published>2009-02-04T09:53:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T10:16:41.399-05:00</updated><title type='text'>"Three in February"</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Lately when people have been asking Olivia how old she is, she says, "three in February."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a mini-party for Olivia on Monday to celebrate her third birthday. We had originally scheduled  party for her on Sunday, but we had to postpone that because Olivia came down with a cold earlier in the week. We didn't want any of the party attendants getting sick so we pushed that party back to next weekend. She got to have some cake and open some presents. Nate enjoyed the festivities also. A big thank you to our family members that sent cards and gifts. She had a wonderful time opening everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hot Chocolate! Just what I always wanted! Just kidding, that was just the box that Nanny wrapped her cow rain boots in. They even have little cow tails on them. She also got stickers, a rain coat, a new outfit, and some card games.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SYmscAhGAaI/AAAAAAAABPE/JoEAyMJTNco/s1600-h/poconos+004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SYmscAhGAaI/AAAAAAAABPE/JoEAyMJTNco/s320/poconos+004.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298956033753219490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SYmscfdfGJI/AAAAAAAABPM/q3tiHAN6u9w/s1600-h/poconos+007.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SYmscfdfGJI/AAAAAAAABPM/q3tiHAN6u9w/s320/poconos+007.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298956042059585682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;When she opened Cookie's present, she shouted, " Dora Saves the Three Little Pigs!" She was so excited to finally get a Dora DVD.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SYmsclBEv9I/AAAAAAAABPc/o65-XJDaUXc/s1600-h/poconos+016.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SYmsclBEv9I/AAAAAAAABPc/o65-XJDaUXc/s320/poconos+016.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298956043551031250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grandma and Grandpa's package was packed with a Backyardigans guitar that Nate loves, a microphone, a quacker, a slinky and some gummy treats. She was so excited about the Jelly Bellys that she didn't want to eat her cake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SYmscfJLWnI/AAAAAAAABPU/TUl4FrzWKoU/s1600-h/poconos+010.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SYmscfJLWnI/AAAAAAAABPU/TUl4FrzWKoU/s320/poconos+010.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298956041974405746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here come's Daddy singing to his girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SYmscwKfoTI/AAAAAAAABPk/6HHIRk11elY/s1600-h/poconos+023.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SYmscwKfoTI/AAAAAAAABPk/6HHIRk11elY/s320/poconos+023.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298956046543331634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She started blowing out the candles before he even set the cake down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SYms1zxKH6I/AAAAAAAABPs/093MHdwxVao/s1600-h/poconos+024.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SYms1zxKH6I/AAAAAAAABPs/093MHdwxVao/s320/poconos+024.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298956477007536034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the cake was safely on the table, she leaned forward and took a big bite out of the frosting!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SYms2AXsNMI/AAAAAAAABP0/3eRrp6FSlH8/s1600-h/poconos+025.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SYms2AXsNMI/AAAAAAAABP0/3eRrp6FSlH8/s320/poconos+025.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298956480390378690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Nate enjoying his cake. Both his Nanny and his Grandma sent him a present. That was so nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SYms2YdXkvI/AAAAAAAABP8/6l5sfEvonWE/s1600-h/poconos+031.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SYms2YdXkvI/AAAAAAAABP8/6l5sfEvonWE/s320/poconos+031.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298956486856643314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This was a fun birthday. She really got excited about opening presents, blowing out her candles, and eating the cake. I asked her, "how does it feel to be three now?" and she replied, "great!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-8767443394003416420?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/8767443394003416420/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=8767443394003416420' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/8767443394003416420'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/8767443394003416420'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2009/02/three-in-february.html' title='&quot;Three in February&quot;'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SYmscAhGAaI/AAAAAAAABPE/JoEAyMJTNco/s72-c/poconos+004.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-8603406320174685767</id><published>2009-01-29T11:46:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-29T12:22:12.714-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Momma's Big Girl</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Maybe it's the fact that Olivia's 3rd birthday is a few days away. Or maybe it's because we've been visiting pre-schools the last few days. I've been spending a lot of time thinking about the neat little girl that Olivia is becoming and I see a lot of me in her. Not so much in her outward appearance; more so in her personality and behaviors. She is definitely a momma's girl in those respects. She woke up this morning before Nate, which is a true rarity. When I went in to get her, she asked me, "Momma, will you rest with me?" So I crawled in to her toddler bed for some morning cuddles and per her request, eskimo kisses. As we lay there together, I began to think of how much like me she is. We both love to sleep in. If Olivia could sleep all day, nestled among her blankets and her Elmos, she would be in heaven. She's slow to wake up. She loves her tv programs. She's bright and independent. Bossy, yet gentle when she needs to be. Yesterday morning, Nate woke up grumpy. As he and I were sitting at the foot of her bed, she started making funny faces at Nate to cheer him up. When that didn't work, she took her hand and began to rub his cheek, saying, "It's OK Nate. I know it's hard to wake up." When that didn't work, she did the mother of all kind gestures in her little world: offered up her Elmo. She sure does love her baby brother. Oftentimes I'll go in after a nap to find his crib littered with Olivia's things, like her sippy cup, her favorite blanket, the random stuffed animal, or even Fuzzy Elmo. I think she must toss these items into his crib when he's having a hard time falling asleep. And, like her mother, Olivia has a special knack for buttering up daddy when she wants something. She'll go to him and with the cutest little head tilt, say something like, "I'll get you some Coke, ok "fweetheart?" She tries to make us think she only has us in mind but she's as transparent as a window pane. It's so hard to resist her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's fearless, outgoing, imaginative and artistic. It's so hard to believe that she's turning 3. In some ways, it seems like forever ago she was born. I think that's because I can't fathom what life was like before kids. And in some ways, it seems like just yesterday we were waiting to meet her. I think that's a reflection of how fast they grow up and reinforces that time does fly when you're having fun. Three years ago seems like a blink of an eye. Where will we be three years from now? Olivia will be in kindergarten and Nate will be 4 1/2, maybe we'll be in a different state or possibly a different country. What an interesting journey it has been. I'm so proud of my firstborn and feel blessed to have her with us as we meet head on all the challenges and adventures that life will bring. Our little Livy is growing up. She says it best...when I tuck them in for the night, right before I close the door, I say "goodnight babies." I hear her voice correcting me in the darkness. "I'm not a baby. I'm a big girl." Goodnight, big girl. Momma loves you sooo much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-8603406320174685767?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/8603406320174685767/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=8603406320174685767' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/8603406320174685767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/8603406320174685767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2009/01/mommas-big-girl.html' title='Momma&apos;s Big Girl'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-4700640567303661553</id><published>2009-01-26T10:33:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-26T11:08:44.639-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Playing in the Poconos</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;If you've ever read a bridal magazine you probably remember the advertisements in the back for the honeymoon spot in the Poconos that has a champagne glass shaped bathtub. Totally cheesy. Until yesterday, that was all I knew of the Poconos. We decided to take the kids on a Sunday drive in search of some snow to play in and ended up in the Poconos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We drove through Jim Thorpe, PA, a really interesting little town with a downtown full of rowhouses that are in the victorian style. Many of these have been converted into store fronts. As we drove down the windy narrow road that takes you through the town, we also saw a monument to the Molly Maguire executions. Jim Thorpe was apparently a heavy coal-mining town staffed largely by Irish immigrants. These Molly Maguires were something of a union and had some pretty direct methods of making their bosses pay for injustices like making them work in unsafe environments. At some point, one of the big bosses hired the Pinkertons to come in and kill the Molly Maguires.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We continued driving and eventually found a state park that had a nicely groomed trail for cross-country skiing and snowmobiling. We loaded the kiddos into the sled and took a nice little hike. Charlie had fun playing in the snow too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SX3buzrb0iI/AAAAAAAABN4/TjH-sSehi8o/s1600-h/poconos+008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SX3buzrb0iI/AAAAAAAABN4/TjH-sSehi8o/s320/poconos+008.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295630334050423330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SX3bvgws37I/AAAAAAAABOQ/_aFw3TRPCHk/s1600-h/poconos+017.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SX3bvgws37I/AAAAAAAABOQ/_aFw3TRPCHk/s320/poconos+017.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295630346152107954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a few minutes of riding on the sled, Livy decided she wanted to walk "like a big girl."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SX3bvDqr-II/AAAAAAAABOA/2AlDFNYJDt0/s1600-h/poconos+013.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SX3bvDqr-II/AAAAAAAABOA/2AlDFNYJDt0/s320/poconos+013.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295630338342254722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This was a really cool place where the water running down the rocks had frozen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SX3bv3afEXI/AAAAAAAABOY/hODWXkoGWKg/s1600-h/poconos+020.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SX3bv3afEXI/AAAAAAAABOY/hODWXkoGWKg/s320/poconos+020.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295630352232943986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SX3dEqh756I/AAAAAAAABOw/pJo95ydNoEY/s1600-h/poconos+037.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SX3dEqh756I/AAAAAAAABOw/pJo95ydNoEY/s320/poconos+037.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295631809063413666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SX3dENrSESI/AAAAAAAABOo/FqxIi8hadsg/s1600-h/poconos+023.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SX3dENrSESI/AAAAAAAABOo/FqxIi8hadsg/s320/poconos+023.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295631801317986594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SX3dDi-wQAI/AAAAAAAABOg/xeyE2_MhLG0/s1600-h/poconos+021.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Playing in the snow is never complete until you make a snow angel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SX3dDi-wQAI/AAAAAAAABOg/xeyE2_MhLG0/s1600-h/poconos+021.jpg"&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SX3dEzV0xGI/AAAAAAAABO4/F7SL7CEEdmo/s1600-h/poconos+039.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SX3dEzV0xGI/AAAAAAAABO4/F7SL7CEEdmo/s320/poconos+039.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295631811428533346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that was our big Sunday drive. It was nice to get out and see some new scenery and have some good old fashioned fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-4700640567303661553?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/4700640567303661553/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=4700640567303661553' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/4700640567303661553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/4700640567303661553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2009/01/playing-in-poconos.html' title='Playing in the Poconos'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SX3buzrb0iI/AAAAAAAABN4/TjH-sSehi8o/s72-c/poconos+008.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-162075057831068196</id><published>2009-01-15T19:35:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-15T20:11:37.206-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What an Adventure!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://adventureaquarium2.reachlocal.net/graphics/interface/home/logo_home.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 370px; height: 90px;" src="http://adventureaquarium2.reachlocal.net/graphics/interface/home/logo_home.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;George called me last Friday with a surprise: he had purchased reduced-cost vouchers at work for the Adventure Aquarium. We decided not to tell Livy exactly where it was we were going the next day, though we knew it would be a big hit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first thing we saw was 2 hippos happily lounging. If you look closely, you'll notice that the hippo in the foreground is actually laying his head on another hippo that is submerged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SW_XP-xkgDI/AAAAAAAABMo/tasrZaAYgVw/s1600-h/AdAq+008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SW_XP-xkgDI/AAAAAAAABMo/tasrZaAYgVw/s320/AdAq+008.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291684756732543026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then it was on to shark school. The kids were most interested in climbing in the big shark mouth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SW_XPTcq0MI/AAAAAAAABMg/L9K-04Nzb5k/s1600-h/AdAq+046.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SW_XPTcq0MI/AAAAAAAABMg/L9K-04Nzb5k/s320/AdAq+046.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291684745102151874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SW_XQWZ3zKI/AAAAAAAABMw/pL5K0HbHhWY/s1600-h/AdAq+048.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SW_XQWZ3zKI/AAAAAAAABMw/pL5K0HbHhWY/s320/AdAq+048.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291684763075595426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SW_XQgQ1p7I/AAAAAAAABM4/ld_d8ii898s/s1600-h/AdAq+061.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SW_XQgQ1p7I/AAAAAAAABM4/ld_d8ii898s/s320/AdAq+061.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291684765722060722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We also got to see a caribbean exhibit with my favorite: seahorses. Then it was on to get Olivia's face painted. Here is our "Mermaid Princess."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SW_XQ6KFHLI/AAAAAAAABNA/ioRuis18Mt4/s1600-h/AdAq+085.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SW_XQ6KFHLI/AAAAAAAABNA/ioRuis18Mt4/s320/AdAq+085.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291684772673035442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;There were also some hands-on exhibits that Olivia went wild for. She got to touch sharks, jellyfish and sting rays. I think she would have liked to do that all day long. After lunch, we went outside and saw the African penguins and seals. Here's Nate trying to get a better view of the penguins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SW_cY3Y8ZII/AAAAAAAABNg/OsBQKigMHVM/s1600-h/AdAq+090.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SW_cY3Y8ZII/AAAAAAAABNg/OsBQKigMHVM/s320/AdAq+090.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291690406927164546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I love this picture of the penguins. You'll see them all posted in front of the door waiting patiently for their next feeding, which wasn't for another 75 minutes. They were super cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SW_b4RuCB0I/AAAAAAAABNI/9mpVy4r_t2c/s1600-h/AdAq+091.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SW_b4RuCB0I/AAAAAAAABNI/9mpVy4r_t2c/s320/AdAq+091.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291689847059253058" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;At last, it was time to go. The kids were tired and overstimulated. Olivia was not happy about this, as you can see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SW_b4xzs8_I/AAAAAAAABNY/IsNsFX3KRH0/s1600-h/AdAq+104.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SW_b4xzs8_I/AAAAAAAABNY/IsNsFX3KRH0/s320/AdAq+104.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291689855672972274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The crying continued 30 minutes into our drive home. Willing to do anything to make her happy, George pulls into a McDonald's to buy her a cone. Much to our dismay, he was told, "Sorry, we have no ice cream today." Hearing this, Olivia begins to scream louder. "Don't worry" he tells her. "There'll be another McDonald's right up the road." Sure enough, a few blocks away, he pulls in and attempts to order a cone. "We don't have any ice cream today" was the answer again. What's the deal? It drops below 40 in Philly and no one makes ice cream? She's somewhat comforted by the apple pie and the crying stops. Eventually the car falls silent as both kids begin to nap. The day at the aquarium was definitely an adventure!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-162075057831068196?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/162075057831068196/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=162075057831068196' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/162075057831068196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/162075057831068196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2009/01/what-adventure.html' title='What an Adventure!'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SW_XP-xkgDI/AAAAAAAABMo/tasrZaAYgVw/s72-c/AdAq+008.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-5495953179210378857</id><published>2009-01-06T11:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-06T11:27:00.868-05:00</updated><title type='text'>On the Run</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Planning to leave for our drive down to Florida on Saturday the 20th, we became concerned when the weather reports were predicting huge snow storms in the northeast. By Friday morning we had decided to leave that afternoon instead, trying to get far enough south of the storm to be safe. I spent the morning packing while George finished up at work and by 1pm, in the middle of almost freezing rain, we packed up the kids, the car, and the dog and got on the road. We weren't sure how far we'd make it the first day. The first part of the drive went pretty quickly. It wasn't long before we were in NJ, then Maryland, then heading towards DC. We hit DC traffic around 7pm which was brutal. We kept ourselves entertained by debating whether or not the first lady should reserve a paycheck. My vote: yes. George was getting aggravated with my "bra-burning" attitude and said the first wrong thing they did was give "us" the right to vote. "It's all been down-hill from there" he said. It's was quite the heated discussion (all in good fun, of course) and helped to pass the time while we crept through our nation's capital. I don't remember much of NC but I started driving around 10pm. The kids were sleeping by then and we were getting closer to Myrtle Beach so we decided to just press on to SC. We had a hotel reservation for Saturday night, so we checked in to the same place around 2am with plans to see our friend Frank after some much needed rest. We met Frank for breakfast at a local joint with the saltiest pork products we'd ever had and after hanging out at Frank's house for a while, decided to take the kids to the beach. This was Nate's first time at the ocean, and Olivia's first time since she was a baby. They had a ball! We got so many cute pictures of them playing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nate dipping his toes in the Atlantic for the first time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SWI6e2wp16I/AAAAAAAABLg/cejq1vC4O6Y/s1600-h/MBSC+021.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SWI6e2wp16I/AAAAAAAABLg/cejq1vC4O6Y/s320/MBSC+021.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287853214256453538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SWI6gJ5OQDI/AAAAAAAABLo/AsJWecJ1dWU/s1600-h/MBSC+025.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SWI6gJ5OQDI/AAAAAAAABLo/AsJWecJ1dWU/s320/MBSC+025.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287853236572536882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Olivia dug herself a hole and surrounded it with sticks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SWI6g2c15fI/AAAAAAAABLw/tSUylaot3AU/s1600-h/MBSC+061.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SWI6g2c15fI/AAAAAAAABLw/tSUylaot3AU/s320/MBSC+061.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287853248533095922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nate saw how much fun she was having and decided to roll around in the sand too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SWI7kGLw12I/AAAAAAAABL4/HAfvFe_uiAg/s1600-h/IMG_4346.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SWI7kGLw12I/AAAAAAAABL4/HAfvFe_uiAg/s320/IMG_4346.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287854403807663970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Astute observers may have noticed that Nate has on a different outfit than in the first pictures. Well, we were playing in the surf and a 2 inch wave came up, caught Nate off guard, and he fell down and got drenched. What happened next was so cute that I wish I could post the pictures: I took the wet clothes off him and he began to run around naked on the beach. Livy, seeing how much fun he was having, decided she should strip too. She took off her pants and went about her business, naked from the waist down.  They played like this for about 15 minutes, until I was able to corral Nate and get him dressed. When we got back to the hotel and started looking through all the naked pictures, I realized that I actually caught Nate peeing in the sand. It was the funniest picture. Frank said he was telling Nate, "write your name in the sand!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a sad thing that a mommy has to think twice about sharing innocent naked baby pictures online. I'm worried that either I'll get charged with child pornography, or even worse, some sicko will find the pictures and get off on them. Anyways, we had a great time on our Myrtle Beach stopover and headed for Florida on Sunday morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SWI6ddjflPI/AAAAAAAABLQ/PibgP3SK-0E/s1600-h/IMG_4341.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SWI6ddjflPI/AAAAAAAABLQ/PibgP3SK-0E/s320/IMG_4341.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287853190310499570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-5495953179210378857?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/5495953179210378857/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=5495953179210378857' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/5495953179210378857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/5495953179210378857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2009/01/on-run.html' title='On the Run'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SWI6e2wp16I/AAAAAAAABLg/cejq1vC4O6Y/s72-c/MBSC+021.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-6469585940695233303</id><published>2009-01-05T10:32:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-05T11:15:26.573-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy New Year!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Wow! I can't believe it's 2009 already. 2008 brought yet another cross-country move for us so this time of year always makes me wonder what's in store for the next 360-something days ahead. Whatever happens, we'll embrace it with the same "the only thing constant is change" and "bloom where you're planted" attitude.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for resolutions, I haven't really made any, but I do have a few things I'd like to accomplish in the new year. First, I need to resume my elimination diet (no corn or soy) which should be easier now that I'm living close to a Trader Joe's and Whole Foods. I see a new gastroenterologist in March who specializes in Eosinophilic Esophagitis so I want to make sure I've been corn and soy free so he can order another eotaxin-3 test to see what kind of progress I've made. The one I had done in September (when I wasn't on my diet) was off the charts. Normal is 17 or below and I scored a 278. Clearly, this is something I need to pay close attention to. My second goal is to finish my application for Irish citizenship by descent and submit it to the consulate in NYC by the end of January. I've been working on acquiring all the required documentation for the last few months so it will be a relief to get it completed. It has been an interesting process though. If we end up with a &lt;a href="http://investor.ppdi.com/releasedetail.cfm?ReleaseID=354919"&gt;transfer&lt;/a&gt; to Ireland, being a citizen of Ireland would make it much easier to work in the EU.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a wonderful Christmas in Florida. After 5 years of either rainy Christmases in Seattle, or really cold Christmases in Montana, we really enjoyed wearing shorts at Christmastime. Keep checking back for pics and antecdotes from our road trip down the East Coast. Have a very Happy New Year!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-6469585940695233303?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/6469585940695233303/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=6469585940695233303' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/6469585940695233303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/6469585940695233303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2009/01/happy-new-year.html' title='Happy New Year!'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-4886374919028721413</id><published>2008-12-16T23:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-16T23:12:00.444-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Look Who's Talking!</title><content type='html'>Nate's vocabulary has really increased in the last few weeks. He says many words without realizing he's saying them. Clear as day, he'll say something like, "kitty cat" and if we ask him to repeat it, he won't. I remember this phase with Olivia too. It's amazing though. Given that he's a boy AND a second child, it's normal for his verbal skills to be a bit behind. He is proving that wrong. George and I have tried to make sure that Livy doesn't talk FOR Nate. We let him take his time and try to say things or communicate in his own way. Here is a list of words he likes to use:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ball&lt;br /&gt;mama&lt;br /&gt;dada&lt;br /&gt;sissy ("sssss")&lt;br /&gt;thirsty ("sissty")&lt;br /&gt;sock&lt;br /&gt;up&lt;br /&gt;down ("da")&lt;br /&gt;uh-oh (his new favorite)&lt;br /&gt;Santa&lt;br /&gt;dog ("da")&lt;br /&gt;baba&lt;br /&gt;out&lt;br /&gt;poop&lt;br /&gt;kitty cat&lt;br /&gt;apple ("app")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so impressed with out little man. I think he's going to be a little chatterbox just like his sister&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-4886374919028721413?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/4886374919028721413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=4886374919028721413' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/4886374919028721413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/4886374919028721413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2008/12/look-whos-talking.html' title='Look Who&apos;s Talking!'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-7888926673121037443</id><published>2008-12-15T23:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-15T23:25:00.709-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas Medley</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;It's that joyous time of year when all the radio stations are playing Christmas music to get us in the holiday spirit. Olivia really likes all these songs and is singing along every chance she gets. Last night, I went to bed right after I put the kids to bed. As I lay there trying to fall asleep, I can hear Livy in her room singing, "He sees you when you're sleeping, he knows when you've been good, he knows when you've been bad, so be good for goodness sake..." She gets the verses a little mixed up, or sometimes inserts a line from "Jingle Bells" in the wrong song but it is so cute! In the car the other day, James Taylor starts singing "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" but I don't recognize it because the first few lines are different. Olivia asks, "what's this song?" I reply, "I'm not sure but I know it's James Taylor. Doesn't he have a nice voice?" Olivia agrees, "oh yes! I like this song. Yes. Yes."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've also been watching lots of Christmas movies on DVD and Video on Demand. She seems to think that every movie ever made should have a Christmas version. Today, after watching, "The Grinch" and "Home Alone" she asked for "Tinkerbell The Night Before Christmas." George said he'd suggest that one to Disney.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Santa (Grandpa Dan) called her, she asked for "a T-rex and an apatosaurus for my baby brother." There is a giant, remote control T-rex in Target that she loves. I think it's a little too advanced for her (plus it's about $150). Fortunately, I did buy a smaller, motorized T-rex. I told her that I didn't think a big T-rex would fit in Santa's sleigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't wait to see her and Nate open all their presents. Ever since I became an adult, my parents have been telling me, "don't buy us anything. Christmas is for the kids." I couldn't really understand how they felt that way, but now that I have little ones of my own, I can totally see where they were coming from.  The anticipation I used to feel waiting to open my gifts pales in comparison to the anticipation I have now, waiting to see my kids on Christmas morning. Their joy is the best present of all. Unless of course, George wants to buy me a pair of shoes. Uggs maybe? Ballet flats? Anything in a size 10, thank you very much and Merry Christmas!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-7888926673121037443?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/7888926673121037443/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=7888926673121037443' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/7888926673121037443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/7888926673121037443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2008/12/christmas-medley.html' title='Christmas Medley'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-1409903178833062045</id><published>2008-12-10T22:44:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-14T23:24:19.320-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh the Joys of Parenting</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Something magical happens during childbirth whereby you lose any trace of aversion to body fluids and other bodily emissions. I think it's a critical adaptation which allows us to care for our offspring for the first several years of their life. I had a joyous morning filled with a few instances of close encounters of the poop and pee kind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, Olivia is still refusing to poop in the potty. She'd much rather just poop in her panties and let me clean up the mess. This morning she had on her jammie pants without underwear (my fault) and the poop fell out her pant leg onto the kitchen floor. She called out from the kitchen, "Mommy! Poop!" and I walk in and see her standing with her foot in the pile. I hurry to clean up the mess on the floor before Nate can walk in and "play" and then try to get the dirty pants off her without making more of a mess. I failed at that, so into the bathtub both kids go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the kids are in the bathtub getting clean but doing a little too much splashing. I'm sitting on the floor next to the tub and getting wetter than I would like. I scold them both for this and ask, "please, keep the water in the tub." A moment later, Nate crawls out of the tub, stands next to me, and pees all over my leg. I guess he was going to get me wet one way or another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love these children. They could pee and poop all over the house and I'd just clean it up and move on. Don't get me wrong- Olivia putting her poop in the potty can't happen soon enough, but until then, I'll just deal with it. At least it gives me good material for the blog!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-1409903178833062045?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/1409903178833062045/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=1409903178833062045' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/1409903178833062045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/1409903178833062045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2008/12/oh-joys-of-parenting.html' title='Oh the Joys of Parenting'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-179114537856098401</id><published>2008-12-08T22:36:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T22:36:00.562-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Craft Time</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Olivia has been driving us crazy about the TV lately. It's totally my fault. I'm a TV addict and she is her mother's daughter. We turned off the TV today and tried to keep her occupied with other activities. She was really resisting our efforts until I remembered that I had a special crown to decorate. It was included in our last monthly &lt;a href="http://www.brightervision.com/"&gt;Brighter Visions&lt;/a&gt; kit. Each kit includes a book, workbook, CD, and craft project. We all enjoy when the kits arrive because the workbook alone (and all the stickers) can keep Olivia occupied for hours. I am so thankful that my good friend Beth told me about them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is Queen Olivia showing off her new crown while working on another glittery project.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/STyX1BI0gaI/AAAAAAAAA5w/BH2MfHQIOac/s1600-h/Picture+027.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/STyX1BI0gaI/AAAAAAAAA5w/BH2MfHQIOac/s320/Picture+027.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277259800465670562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/STyX1U7MVdI/AAAAAAAAA54/zK_OTkmVqOQ/s1600-h/Picture+029.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/STyX1U7MVdI/AAAAAAAAA54/zK_OTkmVqOQ/s320/Picture+029.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277259805777221074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We had so much fun decorating her crown. I can't wait till this month's kit arrives with more projects. I'll have to get creative and develop some other projects for her to do until then!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-179114537856098401?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/179114537856098401/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=179114537856098401' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/179114537856098401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/179114537856098401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2008/12/craft-time.html' title='Craft Time'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/STyX1BI0gaI/AAAAAAAAA5w/BH2MfHQIOac/s72-c/Picture+027.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-7312547260830572558</id><published>2008-12-07T22:19:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-07T22:36:14.381-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Santa Baby</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/STyTbtQpcoI/AAAAAAAAA5o/OST4F65nOlA/s1600-h/Nate+Santa+Hat+bnW.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 285px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/STyTbtQpcoI/AAAAAAAAA5o/OST4F65nOlA/s320/Nate+Santa+Hat+bnW.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277254967586550402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Nate really likes hats. He especially likes the Santa hat. He puts it on every chance he gets and runs through the house with the white puff ball tassel bouncing behind him. He's looking like the cutest little Santa in these pictures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/STyTbMADUWI/AAAAAAAAA5Y/k0OUePwfhUs/s1600-h/Picture+008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/STyTbMADUWI/AAAAAAAAA5Y/k0OUePwfhUs/s320/Picture+008.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277254958658572642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/STyTatGokhI/AAAAAAAAA5Q/zYctrX_Y7yY/s1600-h/Picture+007.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/STyTatGokhI/AAAAAAAAA5Q/zYctrX_Y7yY/s320/Picture+007.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277254950364680722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/STyTbqRjicI/AAAAAAAAA5g/ruyuEC4FbwU/s1600-h/Picture+010.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/STyTbqRjicI/AAAAAAAAA5g/ruyuEC4FbwU/s320/Picture+010.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277254966785051074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of hats, yesterday we were in Toys R Us and while George was standing in line to pay, Olivia and I were trying on funny Santa hats. They also had one hat that looked like Frosty the Snowman, complete with top hat and carrot nose. I thought it was really cute so I put it on and started singing, "Frosty the Snowman..." I'm pretty sure Olivia was, for the first time in her life, embarrassed by her mother. She didn't even laugh. She just looked down, kind of sheepishly, and said, "Mom. Take it off." Then she walked in the other direction. It gave me a little chuckle to see her respond that way and I can just see us, 10 years from now, when she &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;really&lt;/span&gt; thinks I'm the biggest dork that ever lived. I wish I would have bought the Frosty Hat. Maybe Santa will bring it to me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-7312547260830572558?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/7312547260830572558/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=7312547260830572558' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/7312547260830572558'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/7312547260830572558'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2008/12/santa-baby.html' title='Santa Baby'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/STyTbtQpcoI/AAAAAAAAA5o/OST4F65nOlA/s72-c/Nate+Santa+Hat+bnW.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-5919367780001317907</id><published>2008-12-04T22:17:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-04T22:17:01.272-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Festive Home</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Despite the fact that we are, ahem, still living amongst  a few boxes, things are looking a bit homier now that we have most of the Christmas decorations up. We got snow last week which I figured was my cue to get the outside Halloween decorations taken down. Then George asked me when we can start putting the Christmas stuff up. Since we are leaving for Florida on Dec. 20th, I figured we can decorate for the holidays a little earlier than we usually do. George, Nate and I got a head start on the outside lights on Sunday while Olivia was napping. This old house doesn't have any outlets outside so poor George was having to string this extension cord to that one and then connect another, etc... Somehow he managed to get everything lit up AND hooked to a timer. As we were hanging lights, Nate was stumbling around the yard in his new puffy winter coat. It's so puffy that Nate has a hard time moving his arms. Oftentimes, he'll fall down and not be able to get back up. So, he was stumbling around, falling in piles of leaves, looking as cute as ever. Things are looking like a winter wonderland out there. Now we just need more snow.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;After Olivia woke up, we started decorating inside. George had already put up the tree so I only had to drag the ornament box up from the basement and get to decorating. She and Nate happily "helped" me. Olivia was busy handing me ornaments out of the bin, or running especially cute ones out into the living room for Daddy to see. Nate was just grabbing whatever he could out of the bin and flinging it around. He's gentle that way. Even though we only put ornaments on the top 1/3rd of the tree, it looks pretty in the corner of our dining room!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/STSqE34240I/AAAAAAAAA5I/Dzu1Qedd95w/s1600-h/Picture.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/STSqE34240I/AAAAAAAAA5I/Dzu1Qedd95w/s320/Picture.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275028064256320322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We found stockings, candles, my Gingerbread House, wreaths, and a lighted garland that we ran up the banister. All this has catapulted Olivia into major Santa mode. First, when she saw the snow last week, she asked, "Is Santa coming?" Now with the house decorated, she oscillates between running around on some sort of Santa induced high, and sitting quietly on the couch admiring things saying, "Oh, it's ador-bable." There's been a constant fight over who gets to wear the Santa hat and christmas tree bell necklace. There was a scuffle over a tiny snowglobe. It was dropped on the kitchen tile and broke which made Olivia cry. She said that Santa was going to be mad that she broke it. Every night we read, "Twas the Night Before Christmas" at bedtime and everything she sees on TV is on her Christmas list. I'm really looking forward to Christmas this year. I think it's the first year that she understands what's happening AND we're headed to Florida for the holidays. It will be so much fun to see her and Nate opening their presents and I'm thankful my parents will be able to enjoy that with us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-5919367780001317907?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/5919367780001317907/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=5919367780001317907' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/5919367780001317907'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/5919367780001317907'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2008/12/festive-home.html' title='Festive Home'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/STSqE34240I/AAAAAAAAA5I/Dzu1Qedd95w/s72-c/Picture.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-741225391394478248</id><published>2008-12-03T22:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T22:34:00.945-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Weather Outside</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We've had a sudden drop in temperature here which prompted me to bring out the winter coats for the first time. I thought the kids looked so cute all bundled up that I had to snap a picture of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SSI4o1FMCpI/AAAAAAAAA3w/atcXyntM8CQ/s1600-h/picture+248.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SSI4o1FMCpI/AAAAAAAAA3w/atcXyntM8CQ/s320/picture+248.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269836788071664274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SSI4pNXw84I/AAAAAAAAA34/M5PgnmpP0FE/s1600-h/picture+251.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SSI4pNXw84I/AAAAAAAAA34/M5PgnmpP0FE/s320/picture+251.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269836794592031618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Here is Olivia showing off the hat that her Nanny in Montana knitted for her. How cute is it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/STSnJMT8GtI/AAAAAAAAA5A/Iad9MRNRYEI/s1600-h/Picture+298.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/STSnJMT8GtI/AAAAAAAAA5A/Iad9MRNRYEI/s320/Picture+298.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275024839923210962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;This is such a nice time of the year. I love the transition from fall to winter. Crispness in the air, just enough to make you feel alive, but not enough to make you uncomfortable. The cooler weather definitely makes me think about putting up Christmas decorations. Olivia is fascinated with the animatronic yard animals we've seen at Home Depot and any Christmas figurine toy that moves and makes music. She runs down the Christmas aisle at Walgreens and turns on every one she can reach. She'd do this all day if I let her. Nate is particularly fond of an annoying little bouncing Santa I bought on clearance when we were in Seattle. He's been played with so much that his legs got broken and he doesn't bounce anymore but that doesn't keep Nate from having fun and bouncing along.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-741225391394478248?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/741225391394478248/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=741225391394478248' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/741225391394478248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/741225391394478248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2008/12/weather-outside.html' title='The Weather Outside'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SSI4o1FMCpI/AAAAAAAAA3w/atcXyntM8CQ/s72-c/picture+248.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-1962092998842657846</id><published>2008-12-03T12:11:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T12:24:17.480-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Checkup Time</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We went for Nate's 15mo checkup this morning. He's 27lbs 14 oz (88th percentile)  and 31 1/4 inches (50th percentile.) I'm actually surprised he doesn't weigh more than he does. He and Olivia weigh about the same now but he feels much heavier to me. He got a few shots but handled them like a  champ. His pediatrician is  especially pleased with his verbal skills (most boys and 2nd  children lag behind normal but he is at the level of an 18 month old with his  vocab) but wants me to start making him sleep through the night via "tough love" which equals cry it out. She also  noticed his molars are on their way in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Olivia was chattering away the whole  appointment telling the doctor she's a "little bit sick" and "needs a baybaid."  She also told the nurse that Nate "needs his checkup." She was a little wound up this morning and kept interrupting everyone asking for fruit snacks, which she used to get at the doctor's office in Hamilton, and stickers. On the positive side, she likes going to the doctor's office which speaks to how fortunate we have been to have great doctors in both Seattle and Hamilton.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I guess it's time to crack down on Nattie man's nightime requests for cuddles and "ba ba." I know I'll feel better when we're all sleeping through the night, I just dread the process of getting him there. Olivia was pretty easy. After two days, she realized she wasn't going to get what she wanted at night and gave up. Nate has a whole different personality though and I fear he's going to be one of those kids that cries until he pukes. I'm hoping for the best though (and preparing for the worst!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-1962092998842657846?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/1962092998842657846/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=1962092998842657846' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/1962092998842657846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/1962092998842657846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2008/12/checkup-time.html' title='Checkup Time'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-8379040160428155219</id><published>2008-12-02T21:43:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-02T21:43:00.706-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Gobble Good Time</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;My sister sent me a recipe for turkey sugar cookies. I've been trying to do more crafty things with the kids and Olivia is really interested in helping me in the kitchen these days so I thought we'd spend an afternoon decorating some cookies. First, I have to complain about the person who decided it was a good idea to use candy corns on Thanksgiving cookies, when I couldn't find a candy corn within a 10 mile radius of here. Does every existing candy corn self-destruct the day after Halloween? Who woulda thunk-it? Poor George was on a wild goose chase after work that day trying to find us candy corns. He did a good job of improvising and we were able to complete the turkeys without incident. Here are a few pictures of the kids enjoying the cookie decorating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First: the frosting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/STSibRg7HsI/AAAAAAAAA4g/QiApoezV4-Q/s1600-h/Picture+329.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/STSibRg7HsI/AAAAAAAAA4g/QiApoezV4-Q/s320/Picture+329.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275019652999356098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/STSibFEzTJI/AAAAAAAAA4Y/Z-DiXHZD0aM/s1600-h/Picture+327.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/STSibFEzTJI/AAAAAAAAA4Y/Z-DiXHZD0aM/s320/Picture+327.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275019649660177554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Second: add the eyes (mini M&amp;amp;Ms) with a dot of black icing. Olivia decided her cookie needed a few more eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/STSibsFpTlI/AAAAAAAAA4o/OEEOtl77F_c/s1600-h/Picture+336.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/STSibsFpTlI/AAAAAAAAA4o/OEEOtl77F_c/s320/Picture+336.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275019660132699730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/STSib5GzaPI/AAAAAAAAA4w/B-dxzf1Vag8/s1600-h/Picture+339.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/STSib5GzaPI/AAAAAAAAA4w/B-dxzf1Vag8/s320/Picture+339.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275019663627217138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally: add the beak and legs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/STSicRRELzI/AAAAAAAAA44/-X_8qVqokXE/s1600-h/Picture+343.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/STSicRRELzI/AAAAAAAAA44/-X_8qVqokXE/s320/Picture+343.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275019670112710450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Doing art with kids is all about the process, not the end result. I think they did a fabulous job and I had as much fun as they did making our gobble gobble cookies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-8379040160428155219?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/8379040160428155219/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=8379040160428155219' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/8379040160428155219'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/8379040160428155219'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2008/12/gobble-good-time.html' title='A Gobble Good Time'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/STSibRg7HsI/AAAAAAAAA4g/QiApoezV4-Q/s72-c/Picture+329.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-1999250303685576023</id><published>2008-12-01T21:25:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-01T21:42:59.736-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Crack-a-lac-a</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;One of the funniest things that Olivia has started repeated is our term for the butt crack: crack-a-lac-a. The first time she repeated it, we laughed hysterically so of course she says it every chance she gets. Last night she had taken her clothes off and was headed upstairs for a bath. Charlie followed her up the stairs and gave her a little lick on the bum. She giggled and yelled, "Charlie! Don't lick my crack-a-lac-a!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently, Nate has started tugging and pulling at the back of his diaper until it is almost falling off. Today, he looked so cute with his little drawers showing his bum, I had to snap a picture or two.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/STSfve2L5GI/AAAAAAAAA4I/wGIgBBj0J1s/s1600-h/Picture+347.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/STSfve2L5GI/AAAAAAAAA4I/wGIgBBj0J1s/s320/Picture+347.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275016701640696930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/STSfvJPiniI/AAAAAAAAA4A/OMYQqqE2K8Q/s1600-h/Picture+291.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/STSfvJPiniI/AAAAAAAAA4A/OMYQqqE2K8Q/s320/Picture+291.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275016695841463842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took this picture a few weeks ago when he was looking particularly handsome in his new carpenter jeans.  He is just about the cutest thing I've ever seen, whether he's showing crack or flashing that million dollar smile complete with dimples!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/STSgWw4pQHI/AAAAAAAAA4Q/FYostsmoeZw/s1600-h/Picture+290.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/STSgWw4pQHI/AAAAAAAAA4Q/FYostsmoeZw/s320/Picture+290.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275017376497746034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-1999250303685576023?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/1999250303685576023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=1999250303685576023' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/1999250303685576023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/1999250303685576023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2008/12/crack-lac.html' title='Crack-a-lac-a'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/STSfve2L5GI/AAAAAAAAA4I/wGIgBBj0J1s/s72-c/Picture+347.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-8062293188267532413</id><published>2008-11-17T21:49:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-17T22:33:44.449-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Naughty Step Reflection</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:130%;" &gt;Olivia had a great day but her behavior deteriorated as the day wore on. George placed her in timeout on the Naughty Step and because she wouldn't sit still, and kept sassing him, her time kept increasing from two minutes up to six. He'd say, "if you don't be quiet, you'll get more minutes" and she kept replying, "No!" After a few minutes of quiet, he looked over and saw this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SSI1fXJsnMI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/QsajU66c5Lg/s1600-h/picture+258.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SSI1fXJsnMI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/QsajU66c5Lg/s320/picture+258.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269833326883806402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked her what she was thinking when she was in timeout and she said, "not being in timeout anymore" and "daddy gave me three minutes."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been interesting that just recently, when given a timeout, she's actually begun to connect her infraction with the punishment. She's always able to tell me why she was in timeout, whereas before, she wasn't making the connection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later, George asked Livy why she was such a handful. I told her, "tell him it's because you have a mind of your own." Just as prompted she said, "I have a mind of my own."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's my girl!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-8062293188267532413?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/8062293188267532413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=8062293188267532413' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/8062293188267532413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/8062293188267532413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2008/11/naughty-step-reflection.html' title='Naughty Step Reflection'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SSI1fXJsnMI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/QsajU66c5Lg/s72-c/picture+258.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-7970927986907998123</id><published>2008-11-16T16:16:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-16T17:04:53.520-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Slides and Storytime</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SSCOFhFn7nI/AAAAAAAAA2o/reIE0z0KZAc/s1600-h/picture+241.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269367789455928946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SSCOFhFn7nI/AAAAAAAAA2o/reIE0z0KZAc/s320/picture+241.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We just recently used Nate's birthday money to buy a Step 2 All-Star Climber. He and Olivia have been having so much fun climbing up the rock wall and going down the slide. It's the perfect thing for us to have inside as the weather turns colder outside. The first few days, they wore themselves out on the slide. Nate really likes to play peekaboo through the hole. It didn't take him long to figure out how to climb up the slide either. Look at that smile - you can tell he's having a ball!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269367805831490450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SSCOGeF3K5I/AAAAAAAAA24/HvUELP5qckc/s320/picture+234.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Olivia has been getting adventurous with her sliding, doing it on her belly, and on her back looking up. She even tried to ride a little cart down the slide but it was too wide and got stuck. I'll try to capture some of her antics and post them as well. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269367799629531074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SSCOGG_Mx8I/AAAAAAAAA2w/utFH0Dt57pM/s320/picture+243.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;It's been a few weeks since I've posted so I'll give you a little update: Olivia is doing well with her potty training. She almost never has a pee pee accident and is staying dry through her naps. She is having a hard time with the #2 though. Will not put it in the potty but has no problem making a deposit in her panties which makes getting the dirty pants off her tricky. Overall though, I'm happy with the progress she's made. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Nate is really trying to talk. He has a few words in his vocabularly already: ball, dada, mama, baba and I think he said "el" for elmo the other day. He grunts and points a lot and for the most part I usually understand what he's trying to tell me. He's not using his sign language as much as Olivia did. He does tell me when he's "all done" or "thirsty." He's also become interested in books lately. For the longest time, I couldn't get him to sit still to read to him. He only wanted to grab the book and rip the pages. He's bringing me books to read to him now, which is really neat. Storytime at the library is cute. He makes his way to the front of the crowd and stands right in front of the book that's being read. He points at it a lot also. He's also very social so he'll make his way around the room, flirting witht he mommies. There was an elderly lady there with her grandaughter that he was fascinated with. I don't think he had seen anyone that old before. Here are a few pictures of the kids at a recent storytime with a special visitor!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269378947619824114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SSCYPAfNIfI/AAAAAAAAA3I/b_xT3dKtZAg/s320/Poking+Pooh.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Nate worked his way right up to Pooh and kept poking him in the side of his belly. Olivia waited very patiently in the line for her turn to snuggle with Pooh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269378937091321538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SSCYOZRA7sI/AAAAAAAAA3A/HjNlnm6L8go/s320/He%27s+so+fluffy!.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;So, that's about it: we've just been keeping busy with fun things like our new slide and storytimes. I'm sure we'll be posting more often as the holiday season nears. Olivia is already asking to have her picture taken with Santa!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-7970927986907998123?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/7970927986907998123/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=7970927986907998123' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/7970927986907998123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/7970927986907998123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2008/11/silly-for-slide.html' title='Slides and Storytime'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SSCOFhFn7nI/AAAAAAAAA2o/reIE0z0KZAc/s72-c/picture+241.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-1981911877570147632</id><published>2008-11-05T10:20:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-05T10:37:08.803-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Precious Pirates</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Here are a few pics of our little pirates trick-or-treating. Olivia was sooo funny. She would march right up to the door, bang on it with her little fist "knock knock knock" and say "Trick or Treat!" She was invited in to one of the first houses we stopped at, so she marched right into every other house we visited. She got pretty brazen towards the end, and would say, "Trick or Treat! I want some candy." If no one answered the door, she'd stomp off mad, saying, "Ohhh, no one's home!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SRG8CoAOlyI/AAAAAAAAA2Y/_T0GfLQk0gw/s1600-h/Picture+158.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SRG8CoAOlyI/AAAAAAAAA2Y/_T0GfLQk0gw/s320/Picture+158.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265196192656955170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;Cute as Olivia was, Nate was even cuter. He was tromping right through the yards, following his big sister up to the doors. Looking a bit unsteady on his feet as he tried to keep up, it seemed as though our little scaliwag had too much rum. Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum. My sister's legs are longer and I'm trying to run. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SRG8DCql8PI/AAAAAAAAA2g/0SEnivy4wWk/s1600-h/Picture+166.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SRG8DCql8PI/AAAAAAAAA2g/0SEnivy4wWk/s320/Picture+166.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265196199813968114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We worked up a scary appetite while trick-or-treating so we drove down into the city for an authentic philly cheesesteak sandwich. I wish I had a picture of our dinner. They were huge, filled with beef, cheese, and yummy green and sweet peppers. None of us thought we'd finish ours, but they tasted so good we just couldn't stop eating. Kathy was sharing hers with Nate and she couldn't shovel it over to him fast enough. The next day, daylight revealed a carseat covered with shards of cheesesteak. We were in a food coma by the time we returned home. Arrrghh! It was a perfect fall night. I can't wait for next year!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-1981911877570147632?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/1981911877570147632/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=1981911877570147632' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/1981911877570147632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/1981911877570147632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2008/11/precious-pirates.html' title='Precious Pirates'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SRG8CoAOlyI/AAAAAAAAA2Y/_T0GfLQk0gw/s72-c/Picture+158.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-3548834746497423818</id><published>2008-10-31T17:10:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-31T17:10:01.743-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Morning Exercises</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;This morning, Olivia was down on the floor and began performing some modified yoga poses. It looked like so much fun, I decided to join her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SQYvDE6xxwI/AAAAAAAAA10/0rIMtyNevVA/s1600-h/Picture+091.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261944944535389954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SQYvDE6xxwI/AAAAAAAAA10/0rIMtyNevVA/s320/Picture+091.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We did side leg lifts, and some exercises for our tush. Afterwards, Olivia said, "Sanks mommy for exercising with me."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-3548834746497423818?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/3548834746497423818/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=3548834746497423818' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/3548834746497423818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/3548834746497423818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2008/10/morning-exercises.html' title='Morning Exercises'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SQYvDE6xxwI/AAAAAAAAA10/0rIMtyNevVA/s72-c/Picture+091.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-5947206358039587561</id><published>2008-10-27T17:06:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-30T06:38:46.351-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Just-a-Swingin</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The kids love to crawl into a blanket and let George swing them around. They can't get enough of it! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SQYtswKYlZI/AAAAAAAAA1k/ihv091bXVjE/s1600-h/Picture+084.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261943461494953362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SQYtswKYlZI/AAAAAAAAA1k/ihv091bXVjE/s320/Picture+084.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They are also looking super cute in their new Elmo and Thomas the Train jammies. Hard to believe that Nate is already well into a 2T and his big sister is barely in a 3T. Last time we were at the doctor, Olivia only weighed 3 pounds more than Nate. He's our big boy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SQYttifd_6I/AAAAAAAAA1s/eM2zXxys9a8/s1600-h/Picture+089.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261943475005161378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SQYttifd_6I/AAAAAAAAA1s/eM2zXxys9a8/s320/Picture+089.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-5947206358039587561?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/5947206358039587561/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=5947206358039587561' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/5947206358039587561'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/5947206358039587561'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2008/10/just-swingin.html' title='Just-a-Swingin'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SQYtswKYlZI/AAAAAAAAA1k/ihv091bXVjE/s72-c/Picture+084.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-7316593794135165581</id><published>2008-10-27T16:36:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-27T16:55:48.560-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Super Sunday</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I'm a little delayed in getting these pictures posted but a few Sundays ago, we had a park marathon! It started with a trip to a park close to home, then the dog park for Charlie, and somehow we ended up in Chestnut Hill at another really neat park. I am really digging these spontaneous days, though it goes against my type 1 personality. If it were up to me, I'd plan an agenda, complete with mapquest directions from place to place. On the other hand, George gets an idea, we jump in the car and go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nate giggles the whole time he's swinging. Livy had so much fun chasing and kicking the soccer ball. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SQYnjbUgV6I/AAAAAAAAA00/UK9RcM3QiiQ/s1600-h/Picture+073.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SQYnjbUgV6I/AAAAAAAAA00/UK9RcM3QiiQ/s320/Picture+073.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261936704211670946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SQYps8P2wbI/AAAAAAAAA1c/g1ctGgyXSB4/s1600-h/Picture+078.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 248px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SQYps8P2wbI/AAAAAAAAA1c/g1ctGgyXSB4/s320/Picture+078.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261939066692616626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;At the 3rd and final park, the sand box was a big hit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SQYnlQ94G9I/AAAAAAAAA1M/lOkXcJ9xY1o/s1600-h/Picture+080.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SQYnlQ94G9I/AAAAAAAAA1M/lOkXcJ9xY1o/s320/Picture+080.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261936735792143314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SQYnk5w3NPI/AAAAAAAAA1E/YfDiRXwGN7k/s1600-h/Picture+079.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SQYnk5w3NPI/AAAAAAAAA1E/YfDiRXwGN7k/s320/Picture+079.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261936729563542770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Nate really likes the slide. I got a bit too adventurous and let him go down without holding onto him. (Don't worry, it's a really short, small slide.) However, he face-planted into the mulch. Bad mommy! He took it in stride and wanted to go again. He's so fearless!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are really enjoying these adventures. It's what makes moving so much fun. Who wants to unpack when there's so much fun to be had? We had a little saying at UF, "You can never re-live a party, but you can always re-take a class."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-7316593794135165581?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/7316593794135165581/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=7316593794135165581' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/7316593794135165581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/7316593794135165581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2008/10/super-sunday.html' title='Super Sunday'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SQYnjbUgV6I/AAAAAAAAA00/UK9RcM3QiiQ/s72-c/Picture+073.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-4928250832378136523</id><published>2008-10-23T21:26:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-23T22:06:02.406-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Potty Progress</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I did it! I finally did it. I just dug in and started potty training Olivia a few days ago. She's been talking a lot about going to school and most pre-schools require they be potty trained prior to admission. I didn't want my laziness to be the reason she couldn't get into preschool. I guess I've been putting it off because of the move and because of all the stories I've heard about how time consuming it is. Wasn't sure how I'd handle that time suck, plus Nate. I'm pleased to report, however, that she is doing very well! We've been wearing only big girl panties, except for nap time and night time. She's had a few pee pee accidents, but is really getting the hang of it, and even put her poo-poo in the potty twice! Each time she's successful, she gets a gummy body part. I know. It sounds gross, but she really likes them. Each time she tells me which part she wants: eyeball, nose, ear, foot, finger or teeth. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I have to admit though, it makes me a little sad to see her growing up. I have these fast-forward moments occasionally where she's doing something I think is really grown up and in my mind's eye, I see her getting on the school bus for the first time, riding a bike, as a gum-smacking teenager, or graduating high school. Even strangers in the grocery store tell me how fast they grow up and to enjoy these years. It must be true, because even in the short time I've been a mom, I can already see how quickly time passes. Seems like just yesterday we were new to Montana, she was toddling around, and I was pregnant. Today, she's singing "BINGO the dog" at storytime, putting her pee pee in the potty, and Nate is trying to talk. Amazing. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-4928250832378136523?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/4928250832378136523/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=4928250832378136523' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/4928250832378136523'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/4928250832378136523'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2008/10/potty-progress.html' title='Potty Progress'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-6048636954223590912</id><published>2008-10-19T09:12:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-19T09:12:00.368-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Drive-Through</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We have a nifty set of windows in the living room that open up to the porch. When the kids are out there playing, it's pretty convenient to open a window and be able to see and hear what's going on. It didn't take Olivia long to figure out that when she stands at the window and we're on the other side, it's a lot like a drive-through. We've been playing "Mc-a-Donald's" placing pretend orders and even exchanging coins. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258565329963208946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SPotTnikUPI/AAAAAAAAA0k/0fvszn2W2vg/s320/Picture+065.jpg" border="0" /&gt;The next day, Nate decided he wanted a part-time job too. He hopped right up and started taking orders, with a smile! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258565337111201090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SPotUCKyBUI/AAAAAAAAA0s/7e9fIJa0HoI/s320/Picture+071.jpg" border="0" /&gt;"I want a fruit and yogurt parfait, and a pair of those dimples!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-6048636954223590912?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/6048636954223590912/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=6048636954223590912' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/6048636954223590912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/6048636954223590912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2008/10/drive-through.html' title='Drive-Through'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SPotTnikUPI/AAAAAAAAA0k/0fvszn2W2vg/s72-c/Picture+065.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-5961347430121613312</id><published>2008-10-18T14:24:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-18T14:33:28.319-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Things Kids Say</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;So this morning, our landlord's husband stopped by to meet us and take care of a few maintenance issues. We spent a few minutes visiting with him and introducing the kids. He made the mistake of talking with Olivia about Halloween costumes. He says, "I'm thinking of being a pirate. What do you think of that?" Olivia responds, "and Nate's gonna be a pee-nus!" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Oh Lord. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;This isn't the first time Olivia has suggested one of us dress up like a penis. Usually, we're talking about Halloween, how she and Nate are going to be pirates, and she'll suggest that Daddy be a penis and Mommy will be a 'gina. At least she's got the right part paired to each of us. It just brings up that whole debate about using correct terminology or cutesy names like pickle and cookie. We've used those kind of names too but I figured it was time to talk to Olivia about the real names. Boy did that bite me in the butt. Maybe I should have waited?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-5961347430121613312?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/5961347430121613312/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=5961347430121613312' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/5961347430121613312'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/5961347430121613312'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2008/10/things-kids-say.html' title='Things Kids Say'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-3254463741312736399</id><published>2008-10-13T18:29:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-11T19:01:57.980-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Fall is in the Air</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Ok, it was 73 degrees and sunny here, but the leaves ARE turning and it gets pretty chilly at night. My in-laws in Montana report their weather conditions are 23 degrees with SNOW. Hallelujah that we moved away. Our last snow of the "winter" was on June 10th and the first snow of the new season on October 11th? So, what...3 months of non-winter in Montana? Thanks, but no thanks. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Anyways, we set out for the pumpkin patch today but after looking at the map and determining that the one I found online was just across the state line from Trenton, NJ, we decided to visit a smaller farm only a few miles from home. However, on the way, we passed a fall festival that was happening and decided to stop there instead. The kids had an absolute blast! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;There was music and dancing, a petting zoo, bouncy rides and a choo-choo train. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256031629651769090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SPEs62WcdwI/AAAAAAAAAz8/3L2ftZkjXfs/s320/Picture+029.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256031610529597394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SPEs5vHXR9I/AAAAAAAAAzc/Vq8_H8OjBRs/s320/Picture+055.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Check out Nate's fancy footwork above. He loves to tap his toes when he hears music. This looks like the famous Michael Jackson move.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256031613179061314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SPEs54_C5EI/AAAAAAAAAzk/9RvK1N91btg/s320/Picture+039.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256031615729974418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SPEs6CfOvJI/AAAAAAAAAzs/NkpovUHHrVc/s320/Picture+037.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256031627382890802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SPEs6t5gITI/AAAAAAAAAz0/b6Niuo4sOm8/s320/Picture+041.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Olivia refused to let George walk alongside the choo-choo. She told him, "No. You stay here with mommy." So, she squeezed in between two older girls and away she went. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256032904616035714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SPEuFD9nRYI/AAAAAAAAA0E/xOYpIlNjMcU/s320/Picture+046.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256032917203788866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SPEuFy2xJEI/AAAAAAAAA0U/vuMmidjE3ig/s320/Picture+059.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256032923391566530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SPEuGJ6DIsI/AAAAAAAAA0c/lQ7NEvIDKJ0/s320/Picture+062.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Arrgghh! Tomorrow we'll get pumpkins!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-3254463741312736399?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/3254463741312736399/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=3254463741312736399' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/3254463741312736399'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/3254463741312736399'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2008/10/fall-is-in-air.html' title='Fall is in the Air'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SPEs62WcdwI/AAAAAAAAAz8/3L2ftZkjXfs/s72-c/Picture+029.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-1684737615364004457</id><published>2008-10-12T11:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-12T11:09:00.900-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I Could Make Money</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I remember reading the funny little anecdotes about kids at the end of the Reader's Digest and wondering what kind of stories about my kids I'd have to tell. On Friday nite, we definitely had a Reader's Digest moment with Olivia. We were at a local restaurant and she was being her typical outgoing self, talking to the couple at the table behind us. She was standing on her chair, turned around, and babbling on about everything under the sun. Things like, "Daddy bought me Sleeping Beauty, and, then he kissed her." Pause "And then it just happened. Mommy put soap in my mouth." I asked her, "Well, do you remember why I put soap in your mouth? You said a bad word." Olivia looked at the woman, cocked her head to the side as if trying to recall, and said (with a poker straight face) "Dumbass. Right." We all burst out laughing. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Mostly she has been using this term with reference to Charlie. It usually goes like this, "Ahh cute dumbass." Or she chases him around taunting him with the insult. She has gotten several soap servings over this. It doesn't seem to bother her much. Either that, or she enjoys using the bad word more than she dislikes the soap. If she keeps it up, I'll have to up the ante. Vinegar is supposed to be really effective. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Never a dull moment around here, and thank goodness for that! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-1684737615364004457?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/1684737615364004457/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=1684737615364004457' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/1684737615364004457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/1684737615364004457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2008/10/i-could-make-money.html' title='I Could Make Money'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-5895980492628258673</id><published>2008-10-11T17:45:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-11T18:09:25.363-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='S'/><title type='text'>Imagination</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;One of the things that most entertains me is seeing the kids' imaginations at work. There were two incidents of this recently that I caught on film. First, I had blown up a small balloon for Olivia. After handling it for a few moments, it's shape morphed. She said excitedly, "Look! It's a binky."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256020479790323362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SPEix14UlqI/AAAAAAAAAzE/A2-oI1LgXk0/s320/Picture+002.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256020485117994322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SPEiyJuiZVI/AAAAAAAAAzM/I62uUN9axf0/s320/Picture+001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;A few days later, Nate knocked over the vacuum cleaner then climbed on top of it. He was straddling it as if it could really take him places and then added a little "bbbbbbb" sound effect. Maybe he was imagining it was a shiny new Harley Davidson? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256020489017232130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SPEiyYQMCwI/AAAAAAAAAzU/5A5Q5ivlL-Y/s320/Picture+019.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-5895980492628258673?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/5895980492628258673/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=5895980492628258673' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/5895980492628258673'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/5895980492628258673'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2008/10/imagination.html' title='Imagination'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SPEix14UlqI/AAAAAAAAAzE/A2-oI1LgXk0/s72-c/Picture+002.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-3826904548761907994</id><published>2008-09-30T20:30:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-30T21:19:45.086-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Today Was A Good Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Despite BOTH kids waking up just past 6am, which is ungodly early for all of us (yes I know this wake up time is usual for some of you) it turned out to be a good day. For starters, the kids went back to sleep after George left for work so I was able to squeeze in another hour of shut eye and cuddling with Charlie Murph. Then, Nate and I got some more boxes broken down and packing paper bagged up. Olivia wanted cereal for lunch. As I was preparing it, she was jumping around the kitchen saying, "It's good. It's crunchy. It's milky!" She is her mother's daughter. I would eat cereal all day long. In fact, I was so excited to discover a restaurant in Philly called &lt;a href="http://www.cereality.com/main.php"&gt;Cereality&lt;/a&gt;, that serves only cold cereal, and lots of it. Can't wait to visit there. That's one of those crazy ideas someone had then found the money to make it come true. The dude was probably sitting around stoned with his frat brothers "Man, I love cereal. If I owned restaurant, all I would sell is cereal." (Not to imply that the only people who smoke marajuana are fraternity members.) George thinks someone should sell cereal flavored milk, since that is his favorite part of the experience. They sell cereal straws, so why wouldn't cereal milk be a hit? Cookie-Crisp milk would be my choice. Yours?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I'm still ultra frustrated that I can't find the iron. I found just about everything else that was in the laundry room. I'm sure the iron got packed in a box with the stereo or something random like that. The good news is...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THE COUCH IS IN THE HOUSE!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yep, after several technical measurements, decisions about how to approach the doorway, removal of door and the feet off the couch, George squeezed it in! I think the movers were just too lazy to bother with it.  I was stressing about what to do with the couch and how to find/afford a new couch that would fit in the house, so this was a great relief to me! I told George he was my hero, and Olivia agreed, saying he was our "Super Hero." I think I'll take him out for a bowl of good, crunchy, milky cereal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-3826904548761907994?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/3826904548761907994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=3826904548761907994' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/3826904548761907994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/3826904548761907994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2008/09/today-was-good-day.html' title='Today Was A Good Day'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-4180077553668004723</id><published>2008-09-27T21:53:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-27T22:31:29.491-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Home Sweet Home</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Wherever you go, as long as you're with family, you're home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The movers arrived on Tuesday but couldn't get the big truck up the driveway so they spent Tuesday unloading onto a smaller truck and we actually started moving in on Wednesday. The kids did really well and I did my best to keep them out of the way. Olivia was excited to see some of her toys and her big girl bed being brought in. Nate was most interested in helping Pat, the driver, put tables back together. He sat right in the middle of the table while Pat attached the legs, concentrating very intently on the screwdriver and the mechanics of the process.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All moved in but not nearly unpacked. At least I have enough out of boxes to function on a very basic level. I was in an unpacking frenzy on Thursday and wore myself out. I've been avoiding the rest of the boxes all weekend unless there's something I absolutely have to find (like silverware). We are very happy to be in our own space again, even if it is a chaotic mess. I thought I might include some pictures of the extended stay we were in for 10 very long days, and then contrast that with some pictures of our new home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SN7k1I2mlkI/AAAAAAAAAxE/h21cOr5SSTI/s1600-h/Picture+065.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SN7k1I2mlkI/AAAAAAAAAxE/h21cOr5SSTI/s320/Picture+065.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250885817121281602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SN7k1ku8kKI/AAAAAAAAAxc/rUClbmL-z-4/s1600-h/Picture+068.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SN7k1ku8kKI/AAAAAAAAAxc/rUClbmL-z-4/s320/Picture+068.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250885824605360290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SN7k1bSBO7I/AAAAAAAAAxU/xEEfGytlCTs/s1600-h/Picture+067.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SN7k1bSBO7I/AAAAAAAAAxU/xEEfGytlCTs/s320/Picture+067.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250885822068112306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SN7k1xIwJkI/AAAAAAAAAxk/a4z4kLtbYnQ/s1600-h/Picture+061.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SN7k1xIwJkI/AAAAAAAAAxk/a4z4kLtbYnQ/s320/Picture+061.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250885827934824002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;As you can see in the last picture, Olivia was getting bored in that hotel room and found all sorts of ways to get in trouble. She had a lot of fun riding the elevator and helping me do laundry though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are several pictures of our new place which is located in &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fort_Washington,_Pennsylvania"&gt;Fort Washington, PA&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SN7oxEQQobI/AAAAAAAAAyU/RVE185uA-YQ/s1600-h/Picture+069.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SN7oxEQQobI/AAAAAAAAAyU/RVE185uA-YQ/s320/Picture+069.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250890145213751730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Going up the driveway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SN7nH02-nCI/AAAAAAAAAx0/61LqhzDwFT4/s1600-h/Picture+070.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SN7nH02-nCI/AAAAAAAAAx0/61LqhzDwFT4/s320/Picture+070.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250888337194916898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SN7nIGReHwI/AAAAAAAAAx8/WVRsW_kkm4A/s1600-h/Picture+071.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SN7nIGReHwI/AAAAAAAAAx8/WVRsW_kkm4A/s320/Picture+071.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250888341869436674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SN7nIvWBjCI/AAAAAAAAAyE/u2yFZcE_H60/s1600-h/Picture+073.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SN7nIvWBjCI/AAAAAAAAAyE/u2yFZcE_H60/s320/Picture+073.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250888352894389282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Looking down the side yard to the back yard.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SN7nJOikrrI/AAAAAAAAAyM/9j8mhOMq32U/s1600-h/Picture+074.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SN7nJOikrrI/AAAAAAAAAyM/9j8mhOMq32U/s320/Picture+074.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250888361268522674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;View from our back door.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SN7p2dwz9xI/AAAAAAAAAyc/SLYr-JV4aPo/s1600-h/Picture+075.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SN7p2dwz9xI/AAAAAAAAAyc/SLYr-JV4aPo/s320/Picture+075.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250891337472145170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SN7p27NERfI/AAAAAAAAAyk/UqpxY6630to/s1600-h/Picture+076.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SN7p27NERfI/AAAAAAAAAyk/UqpxY6630to/s320/Picture+076.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250891345375282674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The back of the house.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SN7p3PP9-oI/AAAAAAAAAys/6KPtGc-QZU4/s1600-h/Picture+079.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SN7p3PP9-oI/AAAAAAAAAys/6KPtGc-QZU4/s320/Picture+079.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250891350756162178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Up the stairs like a big girl. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SN7p3FSnzEI/AAAAAAAAAy0/MClwXtfGuJ8/s1600-h/Picture+082.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SN7p3FSnzEI/AAAAAAAAAy0/MClwXtfGuJ8/s320/Picture+082.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250891348082936898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;One of two storage areas behind bedroom closets.&lt;br /&gt;Olivia has coined these her "hidey holes" and loves to play in there. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SN7p3YQq2CI/AAAAAAAAAy8/NlnQnlwT4Zo/s1600-h/Picture+087.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SN7p3YQq2CI/AAAAAAAAAy8/NlnQnlwT4Zo/s320/Picture+087.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250891353175021602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Having fun with packing paper. These two kids were giggling and&lt;br /&gt;splashing around in the paper like they were in the ball pit at McD's.&lt;br /&gt;I wish all this packing paper made me feel like giggling.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We picked up Charlie in Harrisburg on Thursday night. George's friend Jess was flying in from Hamilton to see her family and she checked Charlie with her. He appears to have done well on the flight and is happy to be back with his people. We took him to a local dog park tonite and he had a lot of fun. We met a nice couple there with their two dogs and little boy. We gave them our phone number and hope we get to meet up with them again!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-4180077553668004723?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/4180077553668004723/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=4180077553668004723' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/4180077553668004723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/4180077553668004723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2008/09/home-sweet-home.html' title='Home Sweet Home'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SN7k1I2mlkI/AAAAAAAAAxE/h21cOr5SSTI/s72-c/Picture+065.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-7703514537331391996</id><published>2008-09-22T10:14:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-22T10:32:44.482-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Zoo Zaniness</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;On Saturday we visited Elmwood Park Zoo, which is just a few miles from where we're staying. It's a quaint local zoo that's a good little excursion for small children. One of the first things we saw was Olivia's Eagle Canyon.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248852329049301506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SNerYjd3IgI/AAAAAAAAAwk/-maB13Xbe_4/s320/Olivia%27s+Eagle+Canyon.jpg" border="0" /&gt;There was also face painting and pony rides. Olivia rode Rayne like a pro, posing for a pretty picture at the end of the ride.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248852336119230498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SNerY9zdsCI/AAAAAAAAAws/XGwa6Dz6G5Q/s320/Little+Monkey.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248852345722763170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SNerZhlH96I/AAAAAAAAAw0/1OhDUuE3-O4/s320/Picture+060.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We also had fun in the petting barn. The goats were really friendly. We saw alpacas and sheep too. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248852357637686130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SNeraN93Q3I/AAAAAAAAAw8/1Vyz1M5PqpQ/s320/Picture+055.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;It was nice to spend some time outside enjoying one of the many local attractions. A cherished few hours of normalcy in what has been a week or so of what seems like total chaos. The movers arrive tomorrow and we are looking VERY forward to getting settled in our new home. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-7703514537331391996?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/7703514537331391996/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=7703514537331391996' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/7703514537331391996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/7703514537331391996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2008/09/zoo-zaniness.html' title='Zoo Zaniness'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SNerYjd3IgI/AAAAAAAAAwk/-maB13Xbe_4/s72-c/Olivia%27s+Eagle+Canyon.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-540925298622692999</id><published>2008-09-19T10:38:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-19T10:57:54.829-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Sigh of Relief</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Ahhhhh...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things have calmed down considerably here. We found a place to live outside the city in Fort Washington, PA. It's very close to Fort Washington State Park, where George Washington camped before heading to Valley Forge. Quaint little town with easy access to the turnpike. George will be about 20 minutes from work. The movers should be here on the 23rd, and the Hamilton house has been cleaned and is ready for the new tenants. Charlie is flying in on the 25th with our friend Jess who is headed here to visit family. We miss our scruffy pup but he's been having lots of fun with Liz and her 4 dogs. He'll have a great big yard to run in and he'll feel right at home with the deer that frequent our yard, just like in Montana.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;George took us to the King of Prussia mall last night after visiting a local park. We only made it through the smaller part, The Court, before the kids pooped out. Darn! I guess that means we'll have to go back soon! The Plaza has a MAC store AND a Sephora! Nirvana.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've also been applying for some jobs. There are several hospitals in the area, and a few even had Exercise Physiologist positions available. I'm also going to try and visit a few of the cardiac rehab departments to do some networking and get my resume in front of the right people. Ideally, I'd like to go back just a couple days a week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last but not least, our first visitor is scheduled to arrive on Halloween! Kathy is ready to get spooky with us and sample some Philly Cheese Steaks. I hear the best are at Pat's. We'll be checking that out for sure. We are looking very forward to Cookie's visit, and we're so glad we're just a QUICK (compared to MT) plane ride away now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next week is sure to be a busy one - move in, unpack, buy a car for George, and my first outing with my new mom's group. Hopefully everything goes off without a hitch. I'll email everyone our new address and phone number soon!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-540925298622692999?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/540925298622692999/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=540925298622692999' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/540925298622692999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/540925298622692999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2008/09/sigh-of-relief.html' title='A Sigh of Relief'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-5806813889957953172</id><published>2008-09-05T14:47:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-05T15:09:31.600-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Friday to Philly</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;A week from today we'll be on a plane heading towards Philadelphia. It seems hard to believe. I knew the time would fly by but it really doesn't seem possible that we only have a week left here. I'm excited, but having sporadic moments of sadness like, "this is the last gallon of milk I'll buy in Montana" or "the last time we'll have breakfast at the Coffee Cup." My moms group is having a "Boo Hoo" party for me on Sunday, which seems like a contradiction of terms now that I look at it! Anyways, I hope I don't get too emotional leaving all my friends and the town we've come to really love. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Our flight leaves Missoula at 7:30am so we'll be in a hotel up there Thursday night. We're routed through Seattle with a 6 hour layover. When George informed me of this I threw several expletives around regarding the idiotic relocation person that decided 6 hours in an airport with two small children is a good idea. I slept on it though, and decided this morning that we'd make the best of it, rent a car for the morning and go visit some old friends and coworkers while we're there. I even baited George with lunch at our favorite Thai restaurant up in Ballard. It didn't take him too long to jump on board. After an early lunch we'll head back to the airport for a 1:40 departure, and are scheduled to arrive in the City of Brotherly Love at 9:45 that night. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We still don't know where we'll be staying. The same lovely relocation "expert" booked us a room at a Springhill Suites for two weeks where the "kitchenette" only has a microwave. George left a message for her yesterday explaining that we could not feed two small children for two weeks with just a microwave and could you please kindly put us up in the apartment you had arranged for us earlier, or at least a hotel with a REAL kitchenette, complete with stove and fridge? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;So, that's the update. We're keeping busy with our "to do" lists so at least we feel in control of &lt;em&gt;something&lt;/em&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-5806813889957953172?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/5806813889957953172/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=5806813889957953172' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/5806813889957953172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/5806813889957953172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2008/09/friday-to-philly.html' title='Friday to Philly'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-5277845973221080286</id><published>2008-09-02T17:02:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-02T18:28:55.798-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy 1st Birthday Nate!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SL2slbP7v6I/AAAAAAAAAvM/qJStsdyAL3A/s1600-h/Picture+022.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241535300298850210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SL2slbP7v6I/AAAAAAAAAvM/qJStsdyAL3A/s320/Picture+022.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; We had a Wild West themed party for our little buckaroo on Sunday when Josh, Amanda and Aiden were visiting. He got to enjoy his very own cake (Olivia helped him blow out his candle and sang a great version of "Hap-py Birf-fay" dear Nathan) and the rest of us cowpokes had a cactus cupcake or two. He really likes all his new toys and it's finally starting to look like a little boy lives here...a tee ball toy, farm and dump truck handle haulers, a toolbench, a very soft stuffed frog and Lightning McQueen outfit, plus some gift cards we're waiting to use when we get to Philly. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SL2sl7CAduI/AAAAAAAAAvU/Vt19IaE8v9k/s1600-h/Picture+006.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241535308830373602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SL2sl7CAduI/AAAAAAAAAvU/Vt19IaE8v9k/s320/Picture+006.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SL2smEliXKI/AAAAAAAAAvc/kEPnruxnv3M/s1600-h/Picture+001.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241535311395314850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SL2smEliXKI/AAAAAAAAAvc/kEPnruxnv3M/s320/Picture+001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SL2sme_0tfI/AAAAAAAAAvk/Y-KeY3FlZbk/s1600-h/Picture+002.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241535318484891122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SL2sme_0tfI/AAAAAAAAAvk/Y-KeY3FlZbk/s320/Picture+002.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SL2smgbiXjI/AAAAAAAAAvs/tZmW0lIYui4/s1600-h/Picture+003.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241535318869564978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SL2smgbiXjI/AAAAAAAAAvs/tZmW0lIYui4/s320/Picture+003.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Here he is digging in. Not quite sure what to do with the cake at first...but the video shows, he gets the hang of it in no time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241536254991093346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SL2tc_wTTmI/AAAAAAAAAv0/fEa1AXaTaMc/s320/Picture+013.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-8fcfd8268c6afe81" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v20.nonxt2.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D8fcfd8268c6afe81%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330373982%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D15FA2BCD898117DF702CEF14C4712392ED29477.2ECA14D78436E9537B3DB7F4D3A09C7FE859C1BF%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D8fcfd8268c6afe81%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DXj5wNJ5hvu7pQjfAUa58eGBT8bo&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v20.nonxt2.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D8fcfd8268c6afe81%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330373982%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D15FA2BCD898117DF702CEF14C4712392ED29477.2ECA14D78436E9537B3DB7F4D3A09C7FE859C1BF%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D8fcfd8268c6afe81%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DXj5wNJ5hvu7pQjfAUa58eGBT8bo&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The aftermath...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241536255914952146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SL2tdDMkRdI/AAAAAAAAAv8/OPJer0GOORc/s320/Picture+031.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I had to take the highchair apart and wash it in the shower after Nate had his bath. There was chocolate cake all over the floor and even on the window and windowsill. It was worth it though, to see him have so much fun. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-5277845973221080286?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=8fcfd8268c6afe81&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/5277845973221080286/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=5277845973221080286' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/5277845973221080286'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/5277845973221080286'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2008/09/happy-1st-birthday-nate.html' title='Happy 1st Birthday Nate!'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SL2slbP7v6I/AAAAAAAAAvM/qJStsdyAL3A/s72-c/Picture+022.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-8312314927828507335</id><published>2008-09-01T13:36:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-01T13:39:53.017-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Moving Mania!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We are in full relocation mode now and many of our "to dos" are getting checked off the list. George's last day of work is Sept 1th and we're hoping to fly out on the 11th. The Expedition will be shipped on the 10th or 11th and the movers should be here by the 15th. Our neighbor, Ruth, is supervising the car transport, moving company, and house cleaning for us since we won't be there to do it. His first day of work is Monday the 15th so we'll be in temporary housing for about a week until our stuff arrives in Philly. That gives us some time to find a place to rent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Charlie is the proud owner of a new FAA approved kennel, complete with orthopedic mat to make his flight more comfortable. We sold the Corolla on Saturday and my next task is to remove anything from the house that we don't want packed and either donate or dispose of it. I'll have plenty to keep myself busy over the next two weeks and George's "honey do" list is growing longer and longer too. Ahh, the joys of moving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least I don't have to do any major packing, beyond what we'll need in Philly until the moving truck arrives. It should be quite an "adventure" with two little ones in temporary housing for a week to ten days. I'm sure we'll be busy exploring so that will make the time fly by.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We'll be in a new time zone in a few weeks. I'll keep you updated as the move progresses!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-8312314927828507335?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/8312314927828507335/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=8312314927828507335' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/8312314927828507335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/8312314927828507335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2008/09/moving-mania.html' title='Moving Mania!'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-5253870058858352129</id><published>2008-08-31T18:22:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-31T17:51:59.854-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Oliviaisms</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SLLzse5gAMI/AAAAAAAAAvE/Ch-chX5y40w/s1600-h/IMG_0900.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238517262119338178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SLLzse5gAMI/AAAAAAAAAvE/Ch-chX5y40w/s320/IMG_0900.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; As Olivia's vocabulary expands, so does her entertainment value. She really does speak well for a 2 1/2 year old but some of the little twists she puts on things are pretty funny. Here are a few of my faves:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Tater totter - we have a teeter totter on the swingset that Olivia has confused with her favorite fried potato snack. "I want to ride the tater totter."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Tootlip gloss - Aunt Patti bought Olivia some little tubes of lip gloss for Christmas. When she loses her lipgloss she asks, "Where's my tootlip gloss?" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Wig-ear: ahh the glorious time of year when the creepy crawly earwigs invade your home. If Olivia sees one she screams, "Look mom! A wig-ear!" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;When we were pulling into the bank's parking lot the other day, she said, "Oh, we're at the piggy bank?" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Root "beard" - her favorite soda to steal from daddy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Pirate talk - we found a pirate hat and sword at a garage sale. A few days ago in the car she was wearing the hat and we hear, "Arrrrgh matie. I want a jelly bean" coming from the back seat. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Shlippery Sloap - she wants to wash her hands all the time and use her "shlippery sloap" I hope she doesn't turn out to have OCD. The little lisp she gets when talking about her soap is so cute and reminds me of the Brady Bunch episodes when "the youngest one in curls" has a lisp. What was her name? She had to repeat over and over, "Suzy (something) seashells by the seashore."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We have a book from the library that has all sorts of flowers in it. She can name all of the flowers now...rose, iris, tulip ("tootlip"), daisy, sunflower, lily, morning glory, and zinnias ("ginnias"). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Probally/cuz - everything is probally instead of probably and cuz instead of because. She'll also pause after a sentence and add, "anyways..." which, if you read my posts, I say (write) quite often. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;She's learning how to say her friends' names correctly. Here are a few examples of the way it sounds and the actual name:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Sippy = Sidney&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Quiet = Wyatt&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Wheeler = Taylor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Sara = Cierra&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Krisfofor = Kristofor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Hayla = Makayla&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Deff = Beth&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Physically, she is changing also. She can now walk up and down steps without holding my hand or a railing. She is beginning to learn to dress/undress herself. She tries to put her shoes on and of course, on the wrong foot. EVERYTHING is "I can do it myself." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Her bedtime routine has also become a bit more detailed. Inevitably, after we read the books (at least 2-3) and sing songs (never less than 2), she suddenly has a boo boo and needs a "baybaid." "What kind of band-aid" we'll ask. "Bunge Bob (Sponge Bob) baybaid." She also insists on being gently tickled while I sing. She thrust an arm, or expose her belly, or stick a leg in my face depending on what she wants tickled. Last night I was singing "Lullaby" to her, and when I sang, "go to sleep little baby..." Olivia corrected me and said, "I'm not a baby. I'm a big girl."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The final funny thing that we've just noticed is she's making up nonsense words now. The "gooblededictylop" this or that. Then she krinkles her nose and laughs in spite of herself. She fancies herself quite clever when she invents these words. She's got a great imagination and it's just a matter of time before she dreams up an imaginary friend too. Then they can speak the gobledygoop language to each other. Never a dull moment around here!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-5253870058858352129?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/5253870058858352129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=5253870058858352129' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/5253870058858352129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/5253870058858352129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2008/07/oliviaisms.html' title='Oliviaisms'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SLLzse5gAMI/AAAAAAAAAvE/Ch-chX5y40w/s72-c/IMG_0900.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-8315526292793978887</id><published>2008-08-28T15:57:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-28T16:17:33.238-04:00</updated><title type='text'>And the Winner Is...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;PHILLY!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;George accepted their offer this morning, even before hearing the crappy offer Memphis put together for him. Their justification was that they considered it a lateral transfer so there was essentially no pay increase. That just confirms that we made the right decision. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The bad news is...the moving company can't move us for 3-4 weeks so we'll be in temporary housing without our stuff for a month. If it was just George and I, not a big deal. I'm just trying to figure out how we'll do that with kids - not having their toys and their furniture. Maybe we'll just buy them a few new things to play with once we get there? I'm sure it will all work out one way or another. The plus side is that we'll have plenty of time to find a nice place to live and we don't have to stress about squeezing in a house-hunting trip in the next week. So, we'll have to get busy weeding through the junk we have lying around that's not worth taking or needs to be thrown away. I also need to put on my thinking cap and figure out what the 4 of us need to bring to Philly on the plane. I think I'll need more suitcases! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;George will be working in King of Prussia, PA, home to the largest &lt;a href="http://www.kingofprussiamall.com/"&gt;shopping mall &lt;/a&gt;on the East Coast! You know I'll be having fun window shopping there! I keep imagining it as Pennsylvania's answer to the Mall of the Americas. Yahooey!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.gophila.com/assets/dmt/images/KingPrussiaMall-courtCCCVBG.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-8315526292793978887?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/8315526292793978887/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=8315526292793978887' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/8315526292793978887'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/8315526292793978887'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2008/08/and-winner-is.html' title='And the Winner Is...'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-6085073111145202181</id><published>2008-08-27T17:16:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-27T17:30:37.640-04:00</updated><title type='text'>This Way or That</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Well I thought we were going to Philly...they counter-offered yesterday and it was a more than reasonable increase, suprisingly so, actually. They must really want him. Apparently, so does Memphis. He called the HR person yesterday to withdraw himself from consideration since he was planning on taking the PPD position. She was so flabbergasted that he was considering other positions that she mentioned she would try and get him a job offer over the phone, sight unseen. The Memphis interview thing has been such a fiasco and it seemed as though they were dragging their feet - his initial phone interview was on July 10th! I don't think either of us thought she was serious about foregoing the interview and coming through with an offer, but...George heard today that they are planning on contacting him with an offer tomorrow morning. He still hasn't received his offer letter from PPD yet so this puts us in a really good position to have two offers in hand and make the best choice. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We also had someone come look at the house last night. One of George's coworkers and her family moved here from Cali about 6  months ago and their lease in town is up. She has two little boys - one who is starting kindergarten, and another who is almost two. They are interested in starting to move in middle of the month, as soon as we vacate. That's a great relief to us. Our landlords have been wonderful and we'd love for them to rent the house again immediately without any lapse in rental time. George called him today and updated him so hopefully he's contacted Tanya already. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We also put the Corolla and the tractor up for sale last night. A couple has already called about coming down to get the car tomorrow night for their daughter. So, things are moving right along. Now if we only knew if were headed to Memphis or Philly...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;More on that tomorrow!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-6085073111145202181?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/6085073111145202181/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=6085073111145202181' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/6085073111145202181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/6085073111145202181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2008/08/this-way-or-that.html' title='This Way or That'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-6999042487854174642</id><published>2008-08-25T11:50:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-25T14:00:45.814-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Offer</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SLLVKZGn_ZI/AAAAAAAAAus/ksaakDB6BJg/s1600-h/job_interview_1.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238483691099389330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SLLVKZGn_ZI/AAAAAAAAAus/ksaakDB6BJg/s400/job_interview_1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; The Philly job offer came in on Friday. The salary was the very bottom of the range George specified, though it did include full relocation, including one vehicle, a house-hunting trip, and one month of temporary housing if needed. After reviewing our expenses and budget, we determined we couldn't make it in Philly on his income alone so he called them this morning with his counter offer. It included a significantly higher salary plus a signing bonus. So, we'll see what they do with it. The HR person said he would probably hear back from her by Wednesday. That also gives us a few more days to see if an offer comes in from the Red Cross.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Ahh, the joys of salary negotiation. Seems to me that his job search is too much like shopping for a new car. It should be fun and exciting, but it really ends up being a sucky process and inevitably you end up feeling taken advantage of despite your best efforts to be prepared and drive a hard bargain. George thinks that HR people and car salesmen are basically the same breed of people. This process makes me think he's right.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;On a brighter note, George's mom was visiting this weekend. She arrived on Friday evening and we had a nice birthday dinner for George. Saturday we spent some time at the Farmer's Market followed by a trip to her favorite quilt shop and lunch. Sunday we ventured out to KMart so she could buy Nate some birthday presents. We also spent some time outside Sunday evening. George was busy in the yard, raking and setting off smoke bombs to kill the moles. He found several nice, big, juicy worms for Olivia to play with. Olivia was so excited that she ran up to show Nanni, who didn't share her enthusiasm for the slimy little things. "Look Nanni! Look what me found! It's a sweet wormy worm. It's so sweet. And a baby worm too." I asked her what their names were. She decided to call the big one "Mr. Wormy Worm." "What about the baby one?" I asked. "Tootie" she replied. We all got a giggle. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238516040031014386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SLLylWQ8DfI/AAAAAAAAAu0/FMATnoYYujQ/s320/IMG_0903.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238516047345003074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SLLylxguqkI/AAAAAAAAAu8/a6hQDq84Kx0/s320/IMG_0904.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;In case you're wondering because of Olivia's outfit, no, it's not cold in Montana already. We had a few chilly days last week and ever since, Olivia has insisted on wearing a coat AND hat when she goes outside, even if it's 80. Gotta love the iron will of a two year old. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-6999042487854174642?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/6999042487854174642/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=6999042487854174642' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/6999042487854174642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/6999042487854174642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2008/08/offer.html' title='The Offer'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SLLVKZGn_ZI/AAAAAAAAAus/ksaakDB6BJg/s72-c/job_interview_1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-6117933798357280574</id><published>2008-08-21T20:22:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-22T00:07:34.595-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Long Few Days</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;This round of interviews is over. Whew! I realize I say that like &lt;em&gt;I'M&lt;/em&gt; the one who was being interviewed and is all worn out by the process, but in fact, I am worn out. It's hard taking care of two little ones without any help! Oh, and they missed their daddy. Olivia got to talk to him on the phone several times. She told him to be a "good boy on the airplane and have fun, ok daddy?" After Nate got to "talk" to daddy, he kept going to the mudroom door saying, "da da. da da" (That's the door George enters through when he comes home from work.) All day yesterday Olivia was whining about seeing her daddy. We shopped till we dropped, ate dinner at the Cracker Barrel, and finished the day with a trip to the mall to play on the choo-choo. Nate was so funny. He just trotted around, trying to keep up with the bigger kids, and climbed up the stairs to the choo-choo look out at the top of the slide. He played peek-a-boo and giggled, giggled, giggled. We got drenched three different times. Yeah, I picked a great day to haul kids in and out of stores. We checked into the hotel, had bathtime, then tried to settle to sleep. Nate had a really hard time. Once I got him to sleep, I laid down with Livy. She fell asleep pretty quickly. George arrived shortly after midnight, then had to get up early for his interview. While he was interviewing, I got the kids dressed, loaded the car, finished a few errands and then we met for lunch. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;So, anywho...both interviews went well and he'll probably be getting the offer from Philly on Tuesday. He is scheduled to talk to the HR person at the Red Cross tomorrow morning. He thinks both jobs would be good, but definitely seems more excited about the Philly job, although staying here in MT would be nice. He flies to Memphis on Friday, 9/5 and back that Sunday. Nice of them to schedule his interview on his day off and use the weekend for travel time so he goes right back to work that Monday. Gee, thanks. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I'll post again when I have more information!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-6117933798357280574?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/6117933798357280574/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=6117933798357280574' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/6117933798357280574'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/6117933798357280574'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2008/08/long-few-days.html' title='A Long Few Days'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-8092667351471001575</id><published>2008-08-19T16:09:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-19T16:15:39.388-04:00</updated><title type='text'>PPD in Philly</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;George's plane just arrived in Philly. The Lab Manager is taking him to dinner tonight and his formal interview is tomorrow morning, followed by lunch with the interview team. Then he flies back to Missoula, arriving at 11:30pm. Since he has the American Red Cross interview on Thursday at 10am, we decided to get a hotel room up there tomorrow night so I could have clean clothes for him and he wouldn't have to drive all the way to Hamilton, then back to Missoula first thing the next morning.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I'm planning to take the kids to a nice park up there that has a spraypool and wading pool, then maybe out to dinner at my favorite place, the Cracker Barrel.  There's lots of fun things to do in Missoula so we'll keep busy, fall into the bed exhausted, and wake up to daddy. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;George will return to work Friday and Saturday, have Sunday off, then work Monday and fly to Memphis on Tuesday for his Wednesday interview at GSK. They couldn't get the video conference equipment to work so they finally decided just to fly him down. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I promise to keep you updated as more details become available!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-8092667351471001575?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/8092667351471001575/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=8092667351471001575' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/8092667351471001575'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/8092667351471001575'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2008/08/ppd-in-philly.html' title='PPD in Philly'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-5079689434506396113</id><published>2008-08-14T19:00:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-14T21:41:06.224-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Job Search</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SKS5wrzgzHI/AAAAAAAAAuk/9W89m55OX7s/s1600-h/job+searc.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234512912955001970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SKS5wrzgzHI/AAAAAAAAAuk/9W89m55OX7s/s400/job+searc.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;As many of you know, George has been busy looking for new gainful employment. He's pretty disenchanted with his current situation and who could blame him? After taking a pretty steep pay cut AND having to sit around most days with not enough to do, he's over it. I've been emailing some of you updates on the job search but I think I might just start posting updates on the blog for those of you that are interested. I'll catch you up to speed as best I can... I'll just do it alphabetically by location.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Bozeman, MT:&lt;/strong&gt; In-person interview 8/8. Seemed very positive. Next step is to meet with the owners who actually make the job offer. As of today, they are still deciding who to bring back. Bozeman is a great city and only 30 minutes from his folks. The down side is that it is really expensive to live there. Rent is similar to what we paid in Seattle. We would likely live about 10 miles away in Belgrade if he was offered the job. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;King of Prussia, PA:&lt;/strong&gt; Just outside Philly, this is a position working in a GSK facility but he would be employed by a different company that is based in Madison, WI and has 10,000 employees nationwide. We could put in a few years there and then transfer to some place more desirable, like Madison. He also thinks this job has great advancement potential. He's flying there on Tuesday, interviewing Wednesday and then flying back that night. Supposedly they'd want him out there to start by 9/8. Not sure how that would happen! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Memphis, TN:&lt;/strong&gt; Transfer position. Video conference interview has been rescheduled several times due to technical difficulties with the video conferencing equipment in Memphis. Was supposed to interview today, but now it's looking like it will either be Monday the 18th, or they'll just fly him down to interview. Upside to this job is that he would keep his current benefits/retirement package and because they make only OTC products (Poli-dent, Tums, Goody's Headache Powder, BC Powder) it would be more stable.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Missoula, MT:&lt;/strong&gt; This job is with the Red Cross just an hour north of where we live now. He will either be interviewing late next week some time or early the following week. This job includes 25-30% in state travel. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;So, who knows what the next month holds for us! Keep checking back for more updates!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-5079689434506396113?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/5079689434506396113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=5079689434506396113' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/5079689434506396113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/5079689434506396113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2008/08/job-search.html' title='Job Search'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SKS5wrzgzHI/AAAAAAAAAuk/9W89m55OX7s/s72-c/job+searc.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-1767063573539959170</id><published>2008-08-14T00:33:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-14T00:51:45.948-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Laugh (or two) A Day!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Yesterday, Olivia had me laughing hysterically several times. That's the beauty of kids. They're built-in entertainment. Usually when I laugh at something she says, she gets irritated and barks, "Don't be funny at me!" Yesterday, she seems to take great delight in the laughter she provoked.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The first incident occurred when I was changing her diaper. It was a poopy one and somehow I got some on my hand, and then somehow I got some from my hand onto hers. I said, "Ew, yuk! I got some poopy on your hand. I'm sorry." She looked at her hand, then at me, and full of exasperation said, "Jee-sus." I started to laugh, and then she started to giggle, and then I couldn't stop laughing. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;After dinner, George was down the hall and called out to me in the living room, "Hey, do you want to go get some I-C-E C-R-E-A-M? (He actually spelled it out, letter by letter). I must have agreed, then Olivia said, "I want one!" I asked, "what do you want" knowing full well she couldn't know what he was talking about. She replied matter of factly, "an I-C-E-C!" Again, more laughter. Incredible! She *IS* the sharpest knife in the drawer! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-1767063573539959170?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/1767063573539959170/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=1767063573539959170' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/1767063573539959170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/1767063573539959170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2008/08/laugh-or-two-day.html' title='A Laugh (or two) A Day!'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-5142443946844377440</id><published>2008-08-06T00:05:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-06T00:39:46.390-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Bear Creek Hike</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;On Sunday afternoon, we loaded up and drove about 10 miles north to the Bear Creek trailhead for a hike. We've never done anything like this with the kids before, but we heard that it's a nice, easy hike that ends with a waterfall. I bought a used baby backpack last week, and we borrowed another from a friend. George carried Livy and I packed Nate. Charlie Murph came too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231254913673611314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SJkmoKsISDI/AAAAAAAAAs8/fF5yBCPHpAc/s320/Livy+and+Daddy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231254916406889810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SJkmoU3yzVI/AAAAAAAAAtE/VHoSXROEHZc/s320/Picture+034c.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We'd stop along the way and pick whatever ripe berries were there: raspberries, a few huckleberries, currants. I saw elk poop! It looks just like deer poop, but bigger (in case you were wondering). George is a fount of knowledge when it comes to identifying plants, berries, sounds of animals along the trail. He really keeps things interesting. Olivia just had a blast eating berries and riding along. Nate started to get a little antsy toward the end of the hour plus hike in, pulling my hair and playing with my hat. When we reached the falls, we settled down to eat some dinner and take in the beautiful scenery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231254922051122786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SJkmop5e9mI/AAAAAAAAAtM/3gMr9FoKECM/s320/Bear+Creek+Waterfall.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231256282593628738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SJkn32UGEkI/AAAAAAAAAuE/u449djh6mAQ/s320/We+Made+It.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231254926113992994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SJkmo5CJcSI/AAAAAAAAAtU/Rzq9PmRaiPI/s320/Dinner+at+the+Falls.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Livy was running all over the place, climbing big rocks and splashing in the water. I helped Nate dip his toes in the icy cold water. He liked it! Charlie also kept busy exploring. It was a beautiful place and we spent about an hour there relaxing and enjoying ourselves. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231257882311457346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SJkpU9ui-kI/AAAAAAAAAuU/Eo8QX4Yur0s/s320/Picture+055.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231256269476120130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SJkn3FcoxkI/AAAAAAAAAtk/ncBtFp6yyhY/s320/Happy+Girl.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231256275358499234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SJkn3bXGwaI/AAAAAAAAAt0/weErOCPJWY0/s320/Picture+065.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231257875635217154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SJkpUk2zowI/AAAAAAAAAuM/6_ehB_UzcMs/s320/Wettin%27+my+Toes.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231256280717192802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SJkn3vUt7mI/AAAAAAAAAt8/oJXc6Na1IBs/s320/Picture+069c.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the hike back down, George stopped at a natural spring gurgling out of the mountainside and refilled our water bottles with delicious, fresh water. Again, we looked for more berries for Olivia to enjoy. We got absolutely filthy on the hike, but it was a great way to spend a summer afternoon. We're looking forward to hiking again soon!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231256276210832642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SJkn3eiUVQI/AAAAAAAAAts/em4gRL02pgI/s320/Headin%27+Back+Down.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-5142443946844377440?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/5142443946844377440/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=5142443946844377440' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/5142443946844377440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/5142443946844377440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2008/08/bear-creek-hike.html' title='Bear Creek Hike'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SJkmoKsISDI/AAAAAAAAAs8/fF5yBCPHpAc/s72-c/Livy+and+Daddy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-4807739311993258903</id><published>2008-08-02T23:35:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-03T23:43:56.192-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Olivia's 1/2 Birthday</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SJZ6FfqV3sI/AAAAAAAAAsk/oZ0wHHcRcPc/s1600-h/Picture+003.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230502252054437570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SJZ6FfqV3sI/AAAAAAAAAsk/oZ0wHHcRcPc/s320/Picture+003.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Olivia is 2 ½ today and Nate is exactly 11 months old. I’m hoping to get Olivia potty trained this month, starting after we get from Livingston next weekend. I got some helpful tips from other mommies in my group and so I’m actually getting excited about this new phase. I’ve decided to make Olivia the “Potty Princess” and incorporate that theme to make the training more fun for both of us. I bought her a princess crown that she only gets to wear on her “throne” and a princess coloring pad that she can use to pass the time. So far, she’s been really into her coloring pad, but the novelty of the crown has already faded. I’ve heard that potty training can be hard work and requires a lot of patience. I’ll give it my best shot. It sure would be nice to only have one child in diapers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230502255981856130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SJZ6FuSthYI/AAAAAAAAAss/DoiaptSbNLc/s320/Picture+004.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;This 2 ½ year old is certainly a chatterbox. She’s entering the phase where she’s full of questions. Often it pertains to names of people in the family. Her favorite line of questioning as of late goes something like this, “What’s your name? What’s your mommy’s name? What’s your daddy’s name? What’s his dog’s name?” Or “what sound does an angel make? What sound does a robot make?” She often chatters to herself when she’s playing alone outside or in her room. Definitely starting to see the imagination bloom. Yesterday she was outside playing in the sandbox just having a little conversation with no one in particular. Then she came to the door asking, “Mommy Kitty Cat, can I come in? Meow.” That’s her other new favorite thing. Pretending she’s “something,” and I’m the mommy “something.” She’s also very into telling us her emotions. Unfortunately, I’m hearing a lot of “Mommy, you’re making me angry!” I guess I’m glad she’s in touch with her emotions. She better get REAL in touch with that one (anger at mom) because I’m sure it only gets worse with time. “Mean ‘ol mommy” as she says when I correct Charlie. She doesn’t like me talking sternly to anyone, including her puppy. Well, excuuuse me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230502270348820194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SJZ6Gj0D_uI/AAAAAAAAAs0/jigLndXqjnI/s320/Picture+032.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Oh, little Nate. Getting to be such a big boy. He has 4 teeth now and is attempting to walk all over the place. He had a bit of a setback with walking last week when he was sick. We definitely saw a decrease in his walking following that. As of yesterday though, he seems to have picked right back up where he left off. He’s pointing at things he wants, shaking his head “yes” and waving hello. He’s a bottomless pit when it comes to meal times, often using both hands to shovel the food in. Little ringlets are forming in the back of his hair. So adorable. He gives kisses now too. They are the funny, open mouth kind and he moves his head towards our mouth in an abrupt pecking motion. He is such a little lover boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that’s the update. Things change daily though so keep checking back. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-4807739311993258903?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/4807739311993258903/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=4807739311993258903' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/4807739311993258903'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/4807739311993258903'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2008/08/olivias-12-birthday.html' title='Olivia&apos;s 1/2 Birthday'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SJZ6FfqV3sI/AAAAAAAAAsk/oZ0wHHcRcPc/s72-c/Picture+003.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-63160809031307482</id><published>2008-07-25T21:41:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-26T18:15:16.446-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Biking Buddies</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SIqCdKm41HI/AAAAAAAAAr8/mx6Y5U1y9eg/s1600-h/Picture+176.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227133755092161650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SIqCdKm41HI/AAAAAAAAAr8/mx6Y5U1y9eg/s320/Picture+176.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Most of our evenings are spent on the cool side of our house, playing in the driveway and on the front porch. I think Nate's been having as much fun as Olivia with her new bike. He loves to push it around the driveway and give her some help as she tries to pedal. He even likes to ride the bike occasionally. When he's driving, sometimes Olivia hops on for a ride too. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-a2000cc251f8ef71" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v9.nonxt3.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Da2000cc251f8ef71%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330373982%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D1108D98E778B200AA2163CFB78FB9BAC8329926E.1838982DBD2CC3317B4AC36D923488AD833CF954%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Da2000cc251f8ef71%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DCYbp2zHUXVwd4M7cXKbDiCNdRA4&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v9.nonxt3.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Da2000cc251f8ef71%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330373982%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D1108D98E778B200AA2163CFB78FB9BAC8329926E.1838982DBD2CC3317B4AC36D923488AD833CF954%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Da2000cc251f8ef71%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DCYbp2zHUXVwd4M7cXKbDiCNdRA4&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227133762417751090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SIqCdl5cdDI/AAAAAAAAAsE/9W8oesmpq1E/s320/Picture+182.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227133770081665442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SIqCeCcqgaI/AAAAAAAAAsM/W9cPrNvGMos/s320/Picture+186.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Nate's also practicing his two newly acquired skills: walking and climbing. He's hiking that leg up every chance he gets, whether it's to scale the bike or climb into the wagon. We are sooo in trouble with this one! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-f09f36394e835d58" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v9.nonxt1.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Df09f36394e835d58%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330373982%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D74F73F93C43C6F40B3E9CEE3AB44FA68058B932B.5FE18C45BDF849B94A52DB3333A888BF1DECE037%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Df09f36394e835d58%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DSv0zDLUsYkNiKvNc_UoQAUIJzd8&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v9.nonxt1.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Df09f36394e835d58%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330373982%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D74F73F93C43C6F40B3E9CEE3AB44FA68058B932B.5FE18C45BDF849B94A52DB3333A888BF1DECE037%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Df09f36394e835d58%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DSv0zDLUsYkNiKvNc_UoQAUIJzd8&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227133783598207378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SIqCe0zQkZI/AAAAAAAAAsc/gitrJiojIzc/s320/Picture+189.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227133781543367506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SIqCetJWM1I/AAAAAAAAAsU/T3bBRVx3SIc/s320/Picture+193.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;So, you can see, we've been having lots of fun outside this summer! Kids are built-in entertainment. Whether Olivia is running around the yard in search of "hoppers" or Nate is amazing us with&lt;/span&gt; his constant feats of bravery, we're always smiling and enjoying their interaction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-63160809031307482?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=a2000cc251f8ef71&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=f09f36394e835d58&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/63160809031307482/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=63160809031307482' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/63160809031307482'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/63160809031307482'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2008/07/biking-buddies.html' title='Biking Buddies'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SIqCdKm41HI/AAAAAAAAAr8/mx6Y5U1y9eg/s72-c/Picture+176.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-9050114152223767501</id><published>2008-07-21T18:03:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-21T18:05:00.695-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Huckleberry Hunt</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;George has every weekend off now that he's on his new schedule. On Friday morning we loaded up the kids and the dog and headed up Lost Horse Creek in search of the elusive huckleberry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224956173154002354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SILF9NvUJbI/AAAAAAAAArM/icMctW58wJc/s320/The+Elusive+Berry.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Nate really enjoyed being packed around on George's back. Olivia and I worked an adjacent area. She ate almost every berry she picked though! I think only two berries actually made it into my bucket. Tromping through the woods is fun. Charlie was running free, just sniffing and exploring. Every few minutes he'd head back our way just to check in, and then he was off again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SILChP1PnlI/AAAAAAAAAqk/AzMmRdpy2oM/s1600-h/Packin+Nate.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224952394144521810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SILChP1PnlI/AAAAAAAAAqk/AzMmRdpy2oM/s320/Packin+Nate.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224951273908114162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SILBgCoEkvI/AAAAAAAAAqE/qhJsgQ2CzgA/s320/Helpin+Momma+Pick.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224951283589294162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SILBgmsPqFI/AAAAAAAAAqM/oTWrn9T73iU/s320/Huckleberry+Hunt.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Nate getting his first taste of a huckleberry. Olivia was kind enough to share. Then he got to inspect one. &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224951290258761154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SILBg_iXpcI/AAAAAAAAAqU/qaPp7Cdh8Xw/s320/Feeding+Nate+Berries.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224951292231326642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SILBhG4qm7I/AAAAAAAAAqc/v6oZrDxORYM/s320/Nate-berry.jpg" border="0" /&gt; We finished picking and even though we didn't get more than a cup or so of berries, we're very excited to go back up in about a month. We saw a ton of green berries that just weren't ripe yet. We drove back down the road a bit and found a place in the creek that was relatively calm. We had a picnic lunch and then George and Olivia did a little fishing while Nate and I played. Charlie played in the creek nearby. Olivia spent most of her time sitting right near the water digging for worms. Big surprise! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SILChQe42WI/AAAAAAAAAqs/tKww8OGNbJ0/s1600-h/Picnic+Time.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224952394319190370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SILChQe42WI/AAAAAAAAAqs/tKww8OGNbJ0/s320/Picnic+Time.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SILChm2HEfI/AAAAAAAAAq0/6IfLV94jdo4/s1600-h/Charlie+Boy.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224952400322171378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SILChm2HEfI/AAAAAAAAAq0/6IfLV94jdo4/s320/Charlie+Boy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224956179229056610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SILF9kXuHmI/AAAAAAAAArU/zRzN29ZzYcY/s320/Rootin+Around.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SILCh-kaGRI/AAAAAAAAAq8/Tjp6uGclMpY/s1600-h/Digging+for+Worms.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224952406690371858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SILCh-kaGRI/AAAAAAAAAq8/Tjp6uGclMpY/s320/Digging+for+Worms.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SILCiea6T8I/AAAAAAAAArE/8O0MMR8Go28/s1600-h/Look+at+Me.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224952415240474562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SILCiea6T8I/AAAAAAAAArE/8O0MMR8Go28/s320/Look+at+Me.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224956183737966290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SILF91KuntI/AAAAAAAAArc/QFMSZFJJgXk/s320/Wet+and+Dirty.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, both kids were absolutely grungy by the time we got home. If filth is a measure of how much fun they had, I'd say they had a blast! It was a wonderful day out in the woods.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;For a trip down memory lane, I thought I'd end this post with a few pictures from this time last year, just to drive home how fast time really does fly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Little Olivia getting her first taste of huckleberries and me cooling off my 8 1/2 months pregnant swollen feet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224961195039497650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SILKhhuHnbI/AAAAAAAAAr0/Gmb6EpNUf90/s320/IMG_0907.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224960525571836338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SILJ6jwlybI/AAAAAAAAArs/RA5aKRG0gm0/s320/IMG_0929.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder what the next year has in store for us!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-9050114152223767501?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/9050114152223767501/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=9050114152223767501' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/9050114152223767501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/9050114152223767501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2008/07/huckleberry-hunt.html' title='Huckleberry Hunt'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SILF9NvUJbI/AAAAAAAAArM/icMctW58wJc/s72-c/The+Elusive+Berry.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-5743438282242554554</id><published>2008-07-20T00:20:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-20T00:32:38.067-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Walkin' and Talkin'</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Today Nate went from being able to take 2-3 steps, to all of a sudden, he's walking half way across Olivia's room!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were in there playing before bedtime and he takes 4 steps. I call down the hallway to George, "He just took FOUR steps!" A few minutes later I shout another progress report, "He took SEVEN steps!" and "Now he's up to NINE!" This gets George excited and he comes to see for himself. We sit across from each other, maybe 4 feet between us, and Nate begins to walk to George, then walk to me. Again and again several more times. Wowzer!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Olivia started walking pretty early too so I guess I shouldn't be all that surprised. It just amazes me how fast he went from barely able to manage a few steps to making laps!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning I left the house before 6 a.m. to set up for the Mom's Group yard sale. George tells me that Nate said, "banana" during breakfast! Holding a banana, George asks, "did you say banana? Say 'banana.'" He swears that Nate repeated, clear as day, "banana." All I could get him to say tonite was "nana." Not too bad for a 10 month old. Olivia still says, "mana" for banana if I let her get away with it. Now we are encouraging her to say things correctly so Nate learns the right way. He has also started waving to us. What an exciting time, full of new things each day!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-5743438282242554554?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/5743438282242554554/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=5743438282242554554' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/5743438282242554554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/5743438282242554554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2008/07/walkin-and-talkin.html' title='Walkin&apos; and Talkin&apos;'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-5832557409049840063</id><published>2008-07-17T12:43:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-17T12:43:01.686-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What's Old Is New Again</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Olivia got a Fisher-Price zebra ride on toy for her first Christmas. She played with it for a long time but eventually got too big and lost interest. We put it in the garage, knowing it would get more use when Nate was old enough. A week or so ago, we dug it out of the garage, washed it off, and brought it inside. Olivia is suddenly very interested in it again, spinning around on it, and bouncing, as she says, like a "bucking Bronco!" I think her new-found interest came from the rodeo. She even hollers, "Yee Haw" while she's riding. Here she is teaching Nate to ride. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221614084062011858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SHbmWBqxYdI/AAAAAAAAAps/gtEgH1ijz8c/s320/Picture+024.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-5832557409049840063?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/5832557409049840063/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=5832557409049840063' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/5832557409049840063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/5832557409049840063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2008/07/whats-old-is-new-again.html' title='What&apos;s Old Is New Again'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SHbmWBqxYdI/AAAAAAAAAps/gtEgH1ijz8c/s72-c/Picture+024.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-1484346453395044836</id><published>2008-07-15T12:17:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-15T12:17:00.664-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Dr. Dain</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Olivia's friend Dain and his little sister Reyna spent a few hours at our house on Wednesday. As usual, the doctor kit was a big hit and Dr. Dain went right to work, checking out Olivia's heart. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221607699528726690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SHbgiZbauKI/AAAAAAAAApM/sxPu3PO9Kqs/s320/Picture+104.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221607702813925346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SHbgilqq3-I/AAAAAAAAApU/waEBm_22lE0/s320/Picture+105.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;She was so excited for him to visit. For two or three days beforehand, everytime she'd wake up in the morning, or after her nap, she wanted to know if it was time to see Dain. Dain's mom said he was doing the same thing! This morning, when Dain saw Olivia walk into the playdate, he ran over to her and gave her a big hug. He is such a sweetie. Olivia says, "he's a nice boy."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-1484346453395044836?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/1484346453395044836/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=1484346453395044836' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/1484346453395044836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/1484346453395044836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2008/07/dr-dain.html' title='Dr. Dain'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SHbgiZbauKI/AAAAAAAAApM/sxPu3PO9Kqs/s72-c/Picture+104.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-4683926950987351706</id><published>2008-07-13T12:13:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-13T12:13:00.408-04:00</updated><title type='text'>WANTED</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SHbeswwcbMI/AAAAAAAAApE/Dx3Mwpa-J8w/s1600-h/Picture+103.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221605678566370498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SHbeswwcbMI/AAAAAAAAApE/Dx3Mwpa-J8w/s320/Picture+103.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;WANTED&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;FOR STEALING HEARTS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;AND HUSTLING HUGS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-4683926950987351706?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/4683926950987351706/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=4683926950987351706' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/4683926950987351706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/4683926950987351706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2008/07/wanted.html' title='WANTED'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SHbeswwcbMI/AAAAAAAAApE/Dx3Mwpa-J8w/s72-c/Picture+103.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-7497584043263734831</id><published>2008-07-11T00:27:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-11T16:05:42.786-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Trike Time</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Olivia's Florida grandparents sent her a big present...a Schwinn Roadster Tricycle! We've been talking about it for the last few days so she was really excited when the UPS driver dropped it on our front porch. "Open it mommy!" I told her she had to help me clean up her toys off the floor so Daddy would have room to put it together. She went straight to work, picking up her puzzle pieces, putting a dirty cup in the sink, and taking a pair of Nate's dirty shorts to the laundry room. Once we got it assembled, she took it for a test drive on the driveway. She had a hard time figuring out what to do. I think her legs are long enough, she just doesn't quite have the coordination yet to pedal. She does very well using her legs to scoot the trike around though, and she loves to ring the bell. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221610984770403458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SHbjhn6EfII/AAAAAAAAApc/nWnY0y5-LKE/s320/Picture+113.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221610995438289794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SHbjiPpfg4I/AAAAAAAAApk/UgzXtBeDatY/s320/Picture+117.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We figured maybe she'd do better on the bike trail where she'd have more room. I pushed Nate in the stroller while George helped Olivia. After a few minutes of trying she got exasperated, said, "I can't do it" and hopped onto the stroller. With a little more practice, she'll be zooming around in her Roadster, kicking up dirt. Vroom-vroom!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-7497584043263734831?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/7497584043263734831/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=7497584043263734831' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/7497584043263734831'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/7497584043263734831'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2008/07/trike-time.html' title='Trike Time'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SHbjhn6EfII/AAAAAAAAApc/nWnY0y5-LKE/s72-c/Picture+113.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-5888561017405696798</id><published>2008-07-07T12:05:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-07T15:04:42.889-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Rodeo Queen</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SHFxZnItNCI/AAAAAAAAAnY/d3OLn5QXg_Y/s1600-h/Picture+028.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220078127915283490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SHFxZnItNCI/AAAAAAAAAnY/d3OLn5QXg_Y/s320/Picture+028.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; Olivia and I attended our first rodeo on the 4th of July with Josh, Amanda, Aiden and George. The Livingston Roundup has been going on since 1923 and attracts some of the biggest names in the rodeo world. It was really cool to see the different events and what amazing athletes these men and women are. The Bronco Busting and the Bull Riding were my two favorites but seeing the cowboys lasso the steers was pretty impressive also. By far, my favorite thing about the rodeo was seeing Olivia and Aiden dressed in their western gear. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220078146649345602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SHFxas7QTkI/AAAAAAAAAnw/tnJPTQowReA/s320/Picture+050.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220079987617581682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SHFzF3ESSnI/AAAAAAAAAn4/2k7CHCmL0M0/s320/Picture+058.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SHFxaDMegLI/AAAAAAAAAng/JeSYFssAS84/s1600-h/Picture+031.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220078135447290034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SHFxaDMegLI/AAAAAAAAAng/JeSYFssAS84/s320/Picture+031.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SHFxaZNu3xI/AAAAAAAAAno/X30E-ivGEDs/s1600-h/Picture+046.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220078141358137106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SHFxaZNu3xI/AAAAAAAAAno/X30E-ivGEDs/s320/Picture+046.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the rodeo there was a fireworks show. Olivia couldn't decide if she was scared or fascinated. She said the loud noises were spooky but would ooh and aah at the fireworks lighting up the night sky. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220080017497236930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SHFzHmYJpcI/AAAAAAAAAoY/ZdYQGQMd0mY/s320/Picture+082.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220080006826924082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SHFzG-oJmDI/AAAAAAAAAoI/qJQ5xQhssYM/s320/Picture+077.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220080007565704194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SHFzHBYSfAI/AAAAAAAAAoQ/KFuMEh6BPA4/s320/Picture+079.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-5888561017405696798?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/5888561017405696798/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=5888561017405696798' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/5888561017405696798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/5888561017405696798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2008/07/rodeo-queen.html' title='Rodeo Queen'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SHFxZnItNCI/AAAAAAAAAnY/d3OLn5QXg_Y/s72-c/Picture+028.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-2689628008085047399</id><published>2008-07-06T20:42:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-06T21:59:02.091-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Doin' the Two Step</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Nate stood up in the middle of the room today and took two steps! He wasn't even near a piece of furniture! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I suspected this would happen soon. He's been standing unsupported more frequently and for longer durations. Today he got brave enough to pick up those little feet and try to walk! He's stubborn and determined so I imagine he'll be toddling after all of us very, very soon. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-2689628008085047399?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/2689628008085047399/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=2689628008085047399' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/2689628008085047399'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/2689628008085047399'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2008/07/doin-two-step.html' title='Doin&apos; the Two Step'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-4801915846594338262</id><published>2008-07-04T16:26:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-04T16:26:00.979-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Big Girl Bed</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;A few days ago, we converted Olivia's crib to a toddler bed. So far so good. Except for the 2nd day she napped in there. I heard a loud THUD followed by some crying and went in to find her on the floor next to her bed. OOPS. There's a guardrail on the side but it only covers half the length of the bed. She flops around a lot when she's sleeping and must have flopped to the end of the bed and then fallen off. Poor thing. That hasn't happened since. Knock on wood. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I was just telling a friend that I was waiting for Olivia to figure out she could get out of the bed after we put her in there. Well I must have jinxed myself because nap time the following day was very interesting! First I hear a "sshhh" coming down the hall. I go investigate and there she is standing at the baby gate telling Charlie "sshhh" as if he is supposed to keep her secret, that she has figured out she doesn't have to stay in bed. She wants a snack. Oh here we go! "OK, a little cheese but you have to get back in bed" I tell her. A few minutes later I hear her attempting to scale the baby gate, and then she starts to cry. Must have scraped something. I go to check on her and she's back in bed but now needs a "baybaid" on her knee. Translation: band-aid. I get her patched up and leave the room. Maybe third time's a charm? She finally falls asleep and when I go to check on her an hour later, this is what I find:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218270322379676754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SGsFNetnXFI/AAAAAAAAAmI/-2it2A8pmcA/s320/Picture+001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Thirty minutes later I checked again and she was still sleeping but in this position:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218270328958542402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SGsFN3OI4kI/AAAAAAAAAmQ/hZfCcp2-VD0/s320/Picture+002.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Just wondering how her legs knew to support her weight, even in a deep sleep? I guess the same way my arm knew how to support my head when I fell asleep in class? Oh, I mean when I was "studying the capillary patterns of my eyelids" as my highschool botany teacher put it. But I digress. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Now if I could only get her potty trained...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-4801915846594338262?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/4801915846594338262/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=4801915846594338262' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/4801915846594338262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/4801915846594338262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2008/07/big-girl-bed.html' title='Big Girl Bed'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SGsFNetnXFI/AAAAAAAAAmI/-2it2A8pmcA/s72-c/Picture+001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-2511440355881757201</id><published>2008-07-02T12:44:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-02T12:44:14.856-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Nate News</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Ahh the babies. They change so fast. Nate is ten months old today. I thought I would honor the momentous occasion with a little update on his progress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;First the vital statistics: he was 22 pounds and 28.5 inches at his 9 month checkup which puts him at the 68th percentile for weight and 50th percentile for height. I mentioned his two teeth in a prior post. He is doing a great job of feeding himself and actually gets quite irritated if I try to feed him baby food. He usually shovels the food in faster than we can cut it up. He is drinking out of a sippy cup now and his favorite treat is to sneak a guzzle or two of Olivia's chocolate milk if she leaves it laying around. He screams when I take it away. Imagine!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;He is well on his way to walking. He pushes this little walker all around the house to get from point A to point B quickly. He is also able to stand unsupported for 10-15 seconds at a time, even lifting a pillow over his head twice while standing up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218276811362495746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SGsLHMDrbQI/AAAAAAAAAmY/QxLrqAWo1Og/s320/Picture+003.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Loves to play peekaboo, pulling a blanket over his head, or ducking around a corner or under a piece of furniture. We remember fondly this time with Olivia. So much so, I decided to dig out a few old pictures of her for comparison. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218277579970501202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SGsLz7WG2lI/AAAAAAAAAmw/j7PdWYnghYM/s320/Picture+054.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218284062809467362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SGsRtRzXKeI/AAAAAAAAAnA/fvtNFUjPpJo/s320/October+2006-12.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;His hair is also getting long enough in back that it's beginning to curl. Curly hair AND dimples? Oh my. What a ladykiller he'll be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218276825600342642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SGsLIBGPunI/AAAAAAAAAmo/mwwfUjrutT0/s320/Picture+018.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;And, who can forget the fishy lips? He has finally figured out how to make this silly face. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-4c5e7b51f97ada5b" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v20.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D4c5e7b51f97ada5b%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330373983%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3DECE4FEC40A21D4FC391B5F924CBFDB6B14A74FC.5D6CE33B14D47AC7A357544477B0DDB838AAAB02%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D4c5e7b51f97ada5b%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D7a4liItO8tQRxGx3SF1RHP0vKw8&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v20.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D4c5e7b51f97ada5b%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330373983%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3DECE4FEC40A21D4FC391B5F924CBFDB6B14A74FC.5D6CE33B14D47AC7A357544477B0DDB838AAAB02%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D4c5e7b51f97ada5b%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D7a4liItO8tQRxGx3SF1RHP0vKw8&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Besides "da da da" he is also sometimes teasing me with a "ma" or a "ga." He makes this funny face when he's spurting out the syllables that looks like he's an old man without his dentures in. He presses his bottom lip tightly against the top, almost in a snapping motion. I found a picture of Olivia making a similar face too. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218276820139019922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SGsLHswKjpI/AAAAAAAAAmg/EoYFI1rqAWg/s320/Picture+012.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218284073557041602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SGsRt51yIcI/AAAAAAAAAnI/O20eTXeBUJ8/s320/October+2006-14.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We're still working on the sign language. He is clearly signing "puppy" but hasn't started the other signs yet. Hopefully he'll get the others soon. We definitely can't believe his first birthday is just around the corner. Olivia has already decided he should have a tractor cake. I think he'll "dig" right in to that! We sure have enjoyed the last 10 months with our little man. He's a sweetheart with a good sense of humor already developing, and quite the "pistol" as George would say. He'll keep me busy for sure once he starts walking! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-2511440355881757201?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=4c5e7b51f97ada5b&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/2511440355881757201/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=2511440355881757201' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/2511440355881757201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/2511440355881757201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2008/07/nate-news.html' title='Nate News'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SGsLHMDrbQI/AAAAAAAAAmY/QxLrqAWo1Og/s72-c/Picture+003.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-6071957866117957229</id><published>2008-06-30T11:45:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-30T11:45:00.261-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Wonderful Worms!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SF8c88PjF8I/AAAAAAAAAl8/wj_HEeXoX4s/s1600-h/Picture+007.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214918726807394242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SF8c88PjF8I/AAAAAAAAAl8/wj_HEeXoX4s/s320/Picture+007.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Since our fishing trip to Lake Como in May with Greg and Cheryl, Olivia's fascination with worms has not only persisted, but grown. She and George have a special spot in the corner of the yard where they dig for worms on a daily basis. She likes to find a big fat nightcrawler and carry it around the yard with her. When it gets too dry, she dunks it in the water table. She takes it on the swingset with her and talks to it. "Having fun Mr. Wormy Worm?" she asks? When we think the poor worm has had enough, we tell her it's time to put the worm back with his friends. "They're having a worm party and they miss him" we tell her. She happily trots over to the special spot and puts him back in the dirt. We need to find her a worm farm. She would get such a kick out of that. It reminds me of my fascination with salamanders that lived in our window wells when I was a kid. Isn't that the wonderful thing about watching your children experience life? It reminds you of the wonder of YOUR childhood. Too often we get caught in the rut of being adults and taking life too seriously. Watching Olivia run around the yard enjoying her wormy worms reminds me that it's the simple things in life that bring great joy. Like worms...and a great new pair of shoes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-6071957866117957229?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/6071957866117957229/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=6071957866117957229' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/6071957866117957229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/6071957866117957229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2008/06/wonderful-worms.html' title='Wonderful Worms!'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SF8c88PjF8I/AAAAAAAAAl8/wj_HEeXoX4s/s72-c/Picture+007.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-248914266457448394</id><published>2008-06-27T16:16:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-29T16:26:40.894-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Good Patient</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;As I mentioned in my last post, we've had several doctor visits in the last few weeks. Olivia was running a temperature for over a week. We had one trip to the Convenient Care clinic after the first 4 days of a low-grade fever. Her strep culture came back negative. That night, her fever spiked to over 102 and persisted for two more days. We got her in to see her regular doctor who started her on antibiotics while waiting for a more thorough strep culture to come back from the hospital. Still came up negative so apparently it &lt;em&gt;WAS&lt;/em&gt; just a nasty virus causing her sore throat and tummyache. During both visits, she was dumbfounded when the nurse took her temperature and then left without taking her blood pressure. She asked me, "blood pressure, please? Ok mama?" I obliged and pretended to take her pressure with the cuff hanging on the wall. The clinician in me giggles at the thought of my daughter knowing what vital signs need to be taken at each visit. We also practice opening wide and saying "ahhh" with popsicle sticks. This came in very handy when the doctors had to do the throat cultures. She was such a champ, so brave, and compliant with the doctor's requests.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214911679689907698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SF8Wivrz3fI/AAAAAAAAAl0/nS52d1NN9QA/s320/Picture+026.jpg" border="0" /&gt;When she gets the chance, she loves to turn the tables. Olivia loves to play with her doctor's kit. I think her favorite instrument would be either the stethoscope or the otoscope. She's usually pressing the stethoscope against my chest telling me to take a deep breath, or asking me to take her blood pressure. Ya gotta love Charlie. He was her most recent patient, and was so tolerant of her poking and prodding. After she looked in his ears, I asked her what she saw. "Monkeys!" (That's what Dr. Heath tells her he sees when he looks in HER ears). This kid doesn't miss a beat. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I've also been teaching her the names of her bones. She can point to her clavicle, sternum, ribs, mandible, humerus, radius and ulna. We're working on scapula and femur too. Her pronunciation of these parts is absolutely precious. For instance, "clabicle." It just reinforces what they say about kids at this age - sponges. Amazing what they can learn. And it's fun for mom to teach! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-248914266457448394?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/248914266457448394/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=248914266457448394' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/248914266457448394'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/248914266457448394'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2008/06/good-patient.html' title='The Good Patient'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SF8Wivrz3fI/AAAAAAAAAl0/nS52d1NN9QA/s72-c/Picture+026.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-2145518585352753486</id><published>2008-06-21T23:55:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-22T00:46:42.451-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Summer!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Wow - 3 weeks since my last post...where has the time gone? I guess we've just been busy enjoying the weather. Did I mention it snowed here on June 1oth? Yeppers. George tells me that's not all that uncommon here. I think there's something fundamentally wrong about snow in June. It's bad enough that the winter lingered on for 6 months, but SNOW in June? C'mon. Hopefully summer's here to stay now. Livy was also pretty darn sick for about a week with some virus that gave her a pus-oozing throat and tummyache. In between the doctor visits and SNOW, we've managed to have some fun. Livy enjoyed her first pony ride, we got to visit Buster in his new home, and in preparation for the rodeo in Livingston, Olivia got her first pair of cowboy (or should I say "cowgirl") boots.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We visited Parson's Pony Farm in Florence, MT with some other members of my mom's group. Olivia and her new BF, Dain, were the first riders. She was so brave and every so often, would reach down and pat the pony's mane saying, "good pony." After her first ride was over, she wanted another. She had to wait her turn, but eventually got to ride again. Seeing her on that pony was about the cutest thing I'd ever seen. Best $5 I've ever spent. She, of course, is now asking for her own pony. I reminded her that daddy bought her a "My Little Pony." She corrected me. "No. A &lt;em&gt;REAL &lt;/em&gt;one." Uh-oh. We're in trouble.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214552168390130546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SF3Pkbui-3I/AAAAAAAAAkk/dEa5_PSajnc/s320/Olivia+petting+Kelty.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214552163273616402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SF3PkIqrLBI/AAAAAAAAAkc/i7P8GS1TC3s/s320/Livy+Cowgirl.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214555567090629762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SF3SqQ34_II/AAAAAAAAAlE/Vs7LQgJPrT4/s320/Picture+067.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Buster's been in his new home for about 2 weeks now. A lady that George used to work with lost her elderly Lhasa in the fall. She has 3 other dogs, a cat, and 2 foster cats. Her animals are her babies. When she found out that we were looking for someone to take Buster, she stepped forward and welcomed him into her home. Thank goodness for Patti. She lives just a few miles away and said we can visit anytime! After the first week, I felt like I would be ok to see him. Plus, it was his 13th birthday so we didn't want the day to pass without seeing him. We took him for a walk, but in usual Buster fashion, he pooped out after the first block. I carried him the rest of the way to the park, then Olivia had fun holding the leash while he sniffed. On the way home, we put him on Olivia's seat in the stroller. He slipped down into the cargo compartment, stuck his head out the side, and enjoyed the ride home. He seems very happy at Patti's and fits right in with the other animals. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214552179976857042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SF3PlG5CZdI/AAAAAAAAAk0/hRiA0aheC2o/s320/Picture+031.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214552183336468146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SF3PlTaB_rI/AAAAAAAAAk8/hE6EUm8F-t4/s320/Picture+037.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Livy loves her new boots. The stars light up when she walks. Yee haw! Nanni also bought her a little matching dress and cowboy hat to wear to the rodeo when we're in Livingston over the fourth. I'm sure she'll be the prettiest cowgirl there!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214555574694679554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SF3SqtM1lAI/AAAAAAAAAlM/coFLGSjV_ZA/s320/Picture+039.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214555586124901970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SF3SrXyA7lI/AAAAAAAAAlU/00SeK4ZhIss/s320/Picture+042.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214555591670624482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SF3SrscN8OI/AAAAAAAAAlc/WAjIMxvUkvo/s320/Picture+043.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Last but not least, I think Olivia might have her first crush! Here she is with Dain on the day they rode ponies. We had a picnic in the park beforehand. Dain's mom heard Olivia chasing after Dain, calling him "sweetheart" and "babe." She's talking about him constantly now. Who could blame her? He is pretty handsome with that dark curly hair!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214552176749323362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SF3Pk63iJGI/AAAAAAAAAks/bR1mj5hHzOQ/s320/Dain+Olivia+Trout.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Nate's been enjoying the weather too. He loves to hang out in the backyard with his big sissy, playing in the water table and walking himself around the sandbox. He's not so sure about the grass though. I don't think he likes to crawl through it, so he either makes very exaggerated motions with his arms as he's plowing through it, or tries to crawl with straight arms and straight legs so his knees don't touch the grass. He'll be walking soon I think. He's trying to stand alone and is very efficiently cruising between pieces of furniture. He also has two teeth now! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214559786553968162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SF3Wf3mWBiI/AAAAAAAAAlk/h_0N0Qz8SJk/s320/Picture+008.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214560855583503074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SF3XeGC2MuI/AAAAAAAAAls/ZZoXC3gtffE/s320/Picture+013.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Well, I think that brings you up to speed. I'll do my best to post more often. There's no shortage of fun photos and stories to share. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-2145518585352753486?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/2145518585352753486/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=2145518585352753486' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/2145518585352753486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/2145518585352753486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2008/06/happy-summer.html' title='Happy Summer!'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SF3Pkbui-3I/AAAAAAAAAkk/dEa5_PSajnc/s72-c/Olivia+petting+Kelty.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-4010755246318686305</id><published>2008-05-30T21:13:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-31T21:16:18.454-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Fishing with Friends</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Our friends from Seattle, Greg and Cheryl, spent the weekend with us earlier this month. Cheryl had never been fishing, and Greg hasn't been fishing since he was little boy back in Australia. Since we have beautiful Lake Como right down the road and it has been recently stocked with fish, we decided to take them fishing on Saturday afternoon. Here is Olivia helping daddy carry the supplies down to the lake.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SDBx8isdhQI/AAAAAAAAAjM/iOwbRtz2VOQ/s1600-h/Picture+083.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201782854532302082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SDBx8isdhQI/AAAAAAAAAjM/iOwbRtz2VOQ/s320/Picture+083.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;She's ready to bring in the big one!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SDBx9CsdhRI/AAAAAAAAAjU/62wUGtPIA30/s1600-h/Picture+087.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201782863122236690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SDBx9CsdhRI/AAAAAAAAAjU/62wUGtPIA30/s320/Picture+087.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Olivia had so much fun playing with the worms. She was not scared at all and dove right in to examine, stretch, and otherwise manhandle the poor nematodes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SDBx9isdhSI/AAAAAAAAAjc/gumCYuTXElQ/s1600-h/Picture+095.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201782871712171298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SDBx9isdhSI/AAAAAAAAAjc/gumCYuTXElQ/s320/Picture+095.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The boys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SDBx9ysdhTI/AAAAAAAAAjk/eFksEfvOMYY/s1600-h/Picture+105.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201782876007138610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SDBx9ysdhTI/AAAAAAAAAjk/eFksEfvOMYY/s320/Picture+105.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; The girls.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SDBx-SsdhUI/AAAAAAAAAjs/Tz4ffkhSWWc/s1600-h/Picture+103.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201782884597073218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SDBx-SsdhUI/AAAAAAAAAjs/Tz4ffkhSWWc/s320/Picture+103.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After about an hour, the kids had their fill of fishing. George drove us home, then went back to get the fishermen about an hour later. During that time, Greg had reeled one in, and a friendly old man down the shore a bit had caught his limit and gave them 3 more fish. His secret was using mini marshmallows on the hook before putting the worm on to make it float better. George "prepared" the fish at the lake, then brought them home and grilled them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;What a nice weekend!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-4010755246318686305?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/4010755246318686305/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=4010755246318686305' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/4010755246318686305'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/4010755246318686305'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2008/05/fishing-with-friends.html' title='Fishing with Friends'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SDBx8isdhQI/AAAAAAAAAjM/iOwbRtz2VOQ/s72-c/Picture+083.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-2135594173866884550</id><published>2008-05-27T15:30:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-27T15:57:22.573-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Backyard Fun</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Slowly but surely the weather is starting to improve here in Montana. We are taking full advantage of the warm days by spending time in our newly fenced back yard. With a few adjustments, the fence is now keeping both the kids and Charlie in. George has been getting the garden in and has started his mowing rotation. As you can see, the dandelions are taking over. That didn't keep Olivia from posing like she was in a field full of tulips or poppies. To her, dandelions are just another flower. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205143839917521666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SDxivo8YuwI/AAAAAAAAAj8/DMZWPFDrLg0/s320/Picture+132.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Nate likes to play in the exersaucer outside. He's not sure about crawling in the grass. Besides, wouldn't want him to find a little Charlie/Buster 'present' hidden in the grass. Keeping him confined is much safer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205143848507456274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SDxiwI8YuxI/AAAAAAAAAkE/NSCJOCr9N9E/s320/Picture+138.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The behind the scenes glimpse of what was happening in the picture below... as you can see in the picture above, Nathan seems perfectly content. He suddenly became kind of cranky, and when i picked him up out of the exersaucer, there was some poo on the back of his leg. YUK. Then Olivia noticed that there was also some excrement on the floor of the exersaucer. "Look mommy! Pooooop!" Fun in the sun. Diaper changes are oh-so-lovely these days. He wiggles and turns and does whatever he can to avoid the dreaded diaper change. We experienced that to some degree with Olivia, but her brother is WAY stronger. I often find myself having to literally pin him down with one of my arms while I frantically wipe away at the bum with the other hand. It's a good day when the diaper gets changed and i don't get any poo on my shirt. oh the joys of parenting. Anyways, this particular day, i must have had the diaper on a little caddiwompus. It didn't adequately contain the mess and thus, interrupted our day of fun in the sun. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205143857097390882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SDxiwo8YuyI/AAAAAAAAAkM/7FunaeoSU0s/s320/Picture+144.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We also got to see Nanny and Grandpa for Memorial Day weekend. George had just finished building a deluxe sandbox, complete with sun umbrella. It's designed to stand at waist height for the kiddos, but Livy likes to climb right in. I added my barely creative touch by stenciling some dinosaurs on the sides and painting the legs contrasting colors. Olivia is having so much fun with that sandbox. Even though it was cold and windy last weekend, all she wanted to do was play outside in the sand. Good job George! Olivia will be the envy of all the playgroup kids.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205143865687325490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SDxixI8YuzI/AAAAAAAAAkU/RZMN2_0lqH4/s320/Picture+154.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-2135594173866884550?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/2135594173866884550/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=2135594173866884550' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/2135594173866884550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/2135594173866884550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2008/05/backyard-fun.html' title='Backyard Fun'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SDxivo8YuwI/AAAAAAAAAj8/DMZWPFDrLg0/s72-c/Picture+132.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-9149083678619285906</id><published>2008-05-18T13:59:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-18T14:02:19.122-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Look At Me!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Everyone who knows Olivia has seen her flair for drama and that she loves to be the center of attention. Even her Kindermusik teacher remarked last week that she is destined for either the stage or the big screen. Olivia is very animated in class, singing as loud as she can, displaying very interesting facial expressions and somehow always finding her way into the center of the circle. Teacher Beth said, "I have never seen anything like it!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her new favorite thing is, "look at me..." and following it with something she thinks is really nifty. Yesterday, she put an empty cereal bowl on her head and said, "Look at me! I'm a movie star!" Today she was transferring water from one bowl to another using a medicine dropper. "Look at me, mama! I'm making medicine." Ever since she was on antibiotics for her ear infection, she thinks she needs medicine every day. I got a little inventive and colored some water red to look like her cherry medicine. She sat at the table for almost an hour transferring it from one bowl to the other, dispensing it in her mouth, and finally even using her mouth to squeeze and release the dropper. A whole houseful of toys and this is what keeps her occupied?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other interesting way she is using the phrase, "look at me" is when she really wants to get my attention. Apparently, sometimes I don't listen to her. She'll put my face between her hands and turn my head saying, "Mom, look at me!" And then follow that with whatever she is trying to convey to me. I think this comes from when I am trying to discipline her. Often I'll say, "Look at me. I need your eyes" to make sure she is paying attention. Obviously this has made an impression on her and she figures what's good for the goose is good for the gosling.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-9149083678619285906?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/9149083678619285906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=9149083678619285906' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/9149083678619285906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/9149083678619285906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2008/05/look-at-me.html' title='Look At Me!'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36315603.post-928391402221322290</id><published>2008-05-11T20:00:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-16T00:01:54.318-04:00</updated><title type='text'>country bumpkin</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;ahhh I struggle with decorating. not just the money required, but making a decision on a theme and following through with it. Lately I've become interested in the whole "country" look. Not for the whole house, mind you, but I thought I'd do a small room, like our bathroom. I found a super cute "bath house" shower curtain with star rings and a matching soap dispenser. then I bought a coordinating rug and valance. then I got stuck. what to put on the walls? fortunately, Nate's recent portrait session provided the answer to my dilemma. He had a picture taken in a little wash tub. I ordered the print in sepia, found the PERFECT weathered, rustic wood frame 50% off at Michael's and voila...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197109575625655138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SB_Xn6Hyw2I/AAAAAAAAAjE/DvJZ6eBG-QA/s320/Picture+078.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Our little country bumpkin provided just what that wall needed. Thanks, Nate, for being so darn cute!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36315603-928391402221322290?l=ufgatormom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/feeds/928391402221322290/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36315603&amp;postID=928391402221322290' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/928391402221322290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36315603/posts/default/928391402221322290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ufgatormom.blogspot.com/2008/05/country-bumpkin.html' title='country bumpkin'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10432585262447101861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SjL2-nzrBMI/AAAAAAAABe0/eOXP0TGrOcQ/S220/100_0142.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_76kFZIIx1h4/SB_Xn6Hyw2I/AAAAAAAAAjE/DvJZ6eBG-QA/s72-c/Picture+078.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
