<?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-892698573936897166</id><updated>2011-11-27T18:21:20.045-05:00</updated><category term='story'/><category term='doctor'/><category term='children'/><category term='molly'/><category term='perspective'/><category term='Outings'/><category term='Winter'/><category term='Friends'/><category term='injury'/><category term='milestones'/><category term='angie'/><category term='school'/><category term='Drama'/><category term='Alivia'/><category term='birthdays'/><category term='not babies'/><category term='travel'/><category term='bribes'/><category term='trouble'/><category term='Supermom'/><category term='conversations'/><category term='Family Fun'/><category term='discipline'/><category term='Matt'/><category term='Aliva'/><category term='Marlin'/><category term='Outdoors'/><category term='Holiday&apos;s'/><category term='wildlife'/><title type='text'>Crazy Chicken Mama</title><subtitle type='html'>Raising chickens and babies since 2001.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>72</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-6965707170203219816</id><published>2011-08-22T21:47:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-22T21:47:59.179-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='milestones'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marlin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='molly'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Alivia'/><title type='text'>Starting School</title><content type='html'>So I am going to skip over the fact that&amp;nbsp; I have written NOTHING for a year and just start explaining what the past week has been like:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last Tuesday, Alivia started first grade.&amp;nbsp; She&amp;nbsp; had not been to public school yet so it was a pretty big change from her kindergarden of 5 kids in Mrs Harwoods sunroom last year.&amp;nbsp; Mrs Gonczarow had invited her to her classroom with Matt and the other kids the week before school started.&amp;nbsp; She had played on the smart board and met the teacher and was excited for school to start.&amp;nbsp; On the first day, she wanted me to drive her to school and walk her to her classroom.&amp;nbsp; I was happy to do this.&amp;nbsp; As we walked into the school her grip on my hand tightened but she was very brave and walked right to her locker.&amp;nbsp; I helped her unload her things into her locker, took a few pictures and went into the classroom with her.&amp;nbsp; She sat at the desk for another picture and then it was time for me to leave.&amp;nbsp; She was fine, I DID NOT WANT TO GO.&amp;nbsp; I wanted to sit right beside her and watch what was going to happen.&amp;nbsp; It wasn't really that I was worried about her, I just wanted to know what was going to happen.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I wanted to learn all the kids names and see who would become her new friends.&amp;nbsp; I wanted to see what they did in the classroom and watch her enjoy the day.&amp;nbsp; I knew I was limited to knowing only what Alivia decided to tell me at the end of the day.&amp;nbsp; So, I kissed her and headed out.&amp;nbsp; In the parking lot I ran into three other moms that I knew.&amp;nbsp; We all just stood there like maybe we could just hang out in the parking lot for the day.&amp;nbsp; After some chit chat we all headed out and left our babies in the giant school.&amp;nbsp; I am sure that Alivia will love the school and that she will do great.&amp;nbsp; One week into school she loves Music and Art and riding the bus.&amp;nbsp; I hope she learns a lot and that the teacher can keep her busy and entertained.&amp;nbsp; She is so smart and good at everything she does.&amp;nbsp; It will be fun to watch her grow this year.&amp;nbsp; May it be school activities and not Lady Gaga that she is excited by as she learns about so many new things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had more places to go.&amp;nbsp; We had to take Molly to her Montessori Preschool open house.&amp;nbsp; She marched in and walked around like she owned the place.&amp;nbsp; The teacher was painting pictures on the children's arms and she sat and waited patiently to get her painting done.&amp;nbsp; Mrs Campanelli actually had to leave the painting area before Molly got her picture so Molly sat patiently for several minutes for her to come back and paint again.&amp;nbsp; Molly amazes me with her bravery.&amp;nbsp; It doesn't even occur to her to be afraid or hesitant.&amp;nbsp; She just jumps in does whatever it is time to do.&amp;nbsp; Now that she has been in school for a week, she still has not had one tiny hesitation about marching right into school all my herself each morning.&amp;nbsp; She loves it.&amp;nbsp; She is so proud to be in school like the rest of the kids.&amp;nbsp; I am proud of her too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Marlin started Kindergarden at Mrs Harwoods today.&amp;nbsp; Yesterday was Sunday and Marlin was working on reading his BOB books and working on math on our chalk board.&amp;nbsp; I noticed that he was pretty intense in his studies.&amp;nbsp; He was insisting that I help him more and he seemed to be frustrated when he told me "Mom I am working on my math but I only know 1 plus 1 and 2 plus 2."&amp;nbsp; We sat down and I asked him if he was working this hard because Kindergarden started tomorrow.&amp;nbsp; He said yes and admitted that he was a little nervous about Kindergarden.&amp;nbsp; I explained that he did not need to know everything before school started and I was sure that he would do just fine. So, today when I dropped him off he ready.&amp;nbsp; He walked right in and cautiously put his backpack away and sat at his chair.&amp;nbsp; Within 30 seconds he was working away on a puzzle and I had trouble getting his attention to tell him goodbye.&amp;nbsp; That boy has some serious focus.&amp;nbsp; He is in his own world.&amp;nbsp; I hope Mrs Harwood can find her way into the world where Marlin lives and get him to focus on what they are doing in school.&amp;nbsp; I am sure he will have a great year with her.&amp;nbsp; When I picked him up and asked him how his first day of Kindergarden went he said "It wasn't as fun as I thought it was going to be.&amp;nbsp; I thought there would be all kinds of kids running around everywhere."&amp;nbsp; I am not sure what that means.&amp;nbsp; I sure hope tomorrow is a little more fun for my little man.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-6965707170203219816?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/6965707170203219816/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2011/08/starting-school.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/6965707170203219816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/6965707170203219816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2011/08/starting-school.html' title='Starting School'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-7921659431005827938</id><published>2011-08-22T21:42:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-22T21:42:47.846-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday Alivia Rose</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/TGmF4_2IfNI/AAAAAAAAAMc/IltbulVqYZQ/s1600/girls.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/TGmF4_2IfNI/AAAAAAAAAMc/IltbulVqYZQ/s320/girls.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alivia is 6 years old.&amp;nbsp; She is such a cool person.&amp;nbsp; Yes she is a little firecracker but she gets that honestly.&amp;nbsp; She will be starting kindergarten in a few weeks and she is so excited.&amp;nbsp; She is a little canary.&amp;nbsp; She is always humming or singing songs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; We celebrated Alivia's birthday by going to Tropicanoe Cove with Karen and her boys. Then on Saturday we had a birthday party at home with a few friends and family.&amp;nbsp; Alivia's favorite friends were there, Dori, Elizabeth and Stella.&amp;nbsp; They were like 4 little peas in a pod walking around, holding hands and giggling.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We set up the slip and slide since it was 95 degrees and the kids had a great time sliding and playing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/TGmFvLT7r4I/AAAAAAAAAMM/BfrBScnQlWc/s1600/run.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/TGmFvLT7r4I/AAAAAAAAAMM/BfrBScnQlWc/s320/run.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later in the day, the slip and slide turned into a giant mud puddle and everyone painted themselves in mud and had a huge mud party.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/TGmF0CsZbRI/AAAAAAAAAMU/nY2ZHZ29mDI/s1600/mud.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/TGmF0CsZbRI/AAAAAAAAAMU/nY2ZHZ29mDI/s320/mud.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Overall, it was a good day.&lt;br /&gt;****another post that has lived in drafts for a year :( &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-7921659431005827938?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/7921659431005827938/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2011/08/happy-birthday-alivia-rose.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/7921659431005827938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/7921659431005827938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2011/08/happy-birthday-alivia-rose.html' title='Happy Birthday Alivia Rose'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/TGmF4_2IfNI/AAAAAAAAAMc/IltbulVqYZQ/s72-c/girls.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-1245866418590129423</id><published>2011-08-22T21:38:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-22T21:38:45.222-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Aliva'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='milestones'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marlin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='molly'/><title type='text'>Hair Cuts for Everyone</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/TGrV4kFdllI/AAAAAAAAANk/atpOzzvCTes/s1600/mollya.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/TGrV4kFdllI/AAAAAAAAANk/atpOzzvCTes/s320/mollya.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(this post has lived in Drafts for a year. Written in August 2010, posted august 2011)Molly's hair was very uneven so it became time for her first haircut.&amp;nbsp; Above and below are before shots...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/TGrVzoM93AI/AAAAAAAAANc/Sk7KeNRMqWc/s1600/mollyb.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/TGrVzoM93AI/AAAAAAAAANc/Sk7KeNRMqWc/s320/mollyb.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/TGrVglVrd-I/AAAAAAAAANM/_hbefoLX_5I/s1600/mollyd.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/TGrVglVrd-I/AAAAAAAAANM/_hbefoLX_5I/s320/mollyd.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After.&amp;nbsp; Not very dramatic but the first hair cut is always a little dramatic for Mama so we went with a little trim so I didn't cry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/TGrVsOvewrI/AAAAAAAAANU/Pc07oknmXdQ/s1600/mollyc.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/TGrVsOvewrI/AAAAAAAAANU/Pc07oknmXdQ/s320/mollyc.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next was Alivia.&amp;nbsp; She has been growing her hair long for over a year.&amp;nbsp; It has gotten so long that she can not brush it herself.&amp;nbsp; It was a lot of work and needed to be worn in braids unless we were up for hours&amp;nbsp; of detangling and screaming and yelling from both of us.&amp;nbsp; Just kidding about the screaming and yelling...no, actually I'm not kidding :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/TGrYfPIFljI/AAAAAAAAAOU/aOhmRFOBkIo/s1600/aliviab.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/TGrYfPIFljI/AAAAAAAAAOU/aOhmRFOBkIo/s320/aliviab.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/TGrYtH35I4I/AAAAAAAAAOc/jMz7H2Sl5R0/s1600/aliviaa.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/TGrYtH35I4I/AAAAAAAAAOc/jMz7H2Sl5R0/s320/aliviaa.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After...&lt;br /&gt;What happened to my baby!?!?!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/TGrYUEc23FI/AAAAAAAAAOM/CagzXPB0U8Y/s1600/aliviac.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/TGrYUEc23FI/AAAAAAAAAOM/CagzXPB0U8Y/s320/aliviac.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Marlin Man put in his own special request.&amp;nbsp; He wanted a Mohawk!&amp;nbsp; We went with a mild cut that could still be a non-mohawk when we didn't use gel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/TGrYNFxDTkI/AAAAAAAAAOE/DoMcJtHY83Y/s1600/marlina.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/TGrYNFxDTkI/AAAAAAAAAOE/DoMcJtHY83Y/s320/marlina.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So far, we have used gel every day.&amp;nbsp; He loves his Mohawk and I love his sweet face...even with the Mohawk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/TGrYD7oREQI/AAAAAAAAAN8/CmD_Z6NNjSQ/s1600/marlinb.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/TGrYD7oREQI/AAAAAAAAAN8/CmD_Z6NNjSQ/s320/marlinb.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/TGrVLz-faYI/AAAAAAAAAM8/VPSpa3YtMp4/s1600/kidsb.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/TGrVLz-faYI/AAAAAAAAAM8/VPSpa3YtMp4/s320/kidsb.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/TGrVZsRi9DI/AAAAAAAAANE/ftWUmMjTAGc/s1600/kidsa.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/TGrVZsRi9DI/AAAAAAAAANE/ftWUmMjTAGc/s320/kidsa.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-1245866418590129423?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/1245866418590129423/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2011/08/hair-cuts-for-everyone.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/1245866418590129423'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/1245866418590129423'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2011/08/hair-cuts-for-everyone.html' title='Hair Cuts for Everyone'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/TGrV4kFdllI/AAAAAAAAANk/atpOzzvCTes/s72-c/mollya.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-1282530371513096527</id><published>2010-08-06T22:00:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-06T22:00:01.779-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wildlife'/><title type='text'>Visitors</title><content type='html'>It was the day of my son's spiderman birthday party.&amp;nbsp; Matt had gone mushroom hunting with Bob and I was expecting people to start arriving in about 3 hours.&amp;nbsp; I just needed to pick up a few things around the house before they got there.&amp;nbsp; The Christmas decorations that had been sitting in the corner of my son's room since we took them down needed put in the attic.&amp;nbsp; (It was April)&amp;nbsp; The attic door is in Marlin's room.&amp;nbsp; I pushed it open but something was in the way.&amp;nbsp; Something was blocking the attic door from me opening it.&amp;nbsp; How could something be in the way?&amp;nbsp; When I shut the door nothing was there. The only way for something to be there, on the other side of the door was for it to have moved there itself!&amp;nbsp; My heart started beating quickly.&amp;nbsp; We had been finding LARGE snake skins in our attic for years.&amp;nbsp; The spring before this Matt had found a huge snake outside our house and we had decided that it was the giant that had been living in our attic.&amp;nbsp; We released it in the woods far away from our home and all was well.&amp;nbsp; We hadn't found a snake skin in the attic all year.&amp;nbsp; But now, there was something in front of the door. &lt;br /&gt;I slowly pushed the door open and peeked around the door.&amp;nbsp; There is was, the black rat snake that lived in our attic.&amp;nbsp; It was all coiled up.&amp;nbsp; My first reaction was to call Matt. Then I remembered that he was in the woods and by the time he would get back it would be gone.&amp;nbsp; My next idea was to shut the door and pretend that never happened.&amp;nbsp; If I did that, then I would KNOW that it was still in the attic and it could end up in Marlin's room someday.&amp;nbsp; I was going to have to catch it myself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A little background...this was not the first black rat snake I would have to handle.&amp;nbsp; I had given hundreds of reptile programs as a naturalist at Turkey Run State Park and at the Calusa Nature Center where I had worked.&amp;nbsp; I had lectured endless numbers of people about how harmless these snakes were and how there was nothing to worry about.&amp;nbsp; I knew how to handle the snake and what to do.&amp;nbsp; I DID NOT WANT TO TOUCH THIS SNAKE.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Matt's mom was downstairs in the kitchen preparing the food for the party.&amp;nbsp; If she knew what was going on she would run back to Kentucky before Bob could even get the truck started.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I needed something.&amp;nbsp; Something I could use to catch the snake.&amp;nbsp; I calmly walked through the house, through the kitchen looking for the perfect tool.&amp;nbsp; I found Marlin's nerf sword in the laundry room and brought it upstairs.&amp;nbsp; I opened the attic door and put the sword on the head of the snake so it couldn't strike.&amp;nbsp; Then I picked it up behind the head and walked downstairs.&amp;nbsp; Alivia met me at the bottom of the stairs and her eyes became as large as saucers.&amp;nbsp; "Open the door before Granny sees this"&amp;nbsp; I said as I held the 6 foot long snake in my hands.&amp;nbsp; Alivia opened the door and then ran into the kitchen to tell Granny what was going on.&amp;nbsp; Granny looked through the window and I could hear her from inside the house yelling "Where did you get that thing?".&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took the snake way out into the woods and set it free.&amp;nbsp; The lesson to be learned is put away your Christmas decorations before it is warm enough for the snakes to be out in the attic.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/TFw85e-SuxI/AAAAAAAAAME/r5LUqQGihe8/s1600/4-29-10+007.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/TFw85e-SuxI/AAAAAAAAAME/r5LUqQGihe8/s320/4-29-10+007.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-1282530371513096527?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/1282530371513096527/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2010/08/visitors.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/1282530371513096527'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/1282530371513096527'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2010/08/visitors.html' title='Visitors'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/TFw85e-SuxI/AAAAAAAAAME/r5LUqQGihe8/s72-c/4-29-10+007.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-3100783916681192730</id><published>2010-07-30T22:00:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-30T22:00:02.176-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='children'/><title type='text'>Your World or Mine?</title><content type='html'>After an 8 hour work day I pick up the kids and bring them home.&amp;nbsp; The usual routine is to be to the kitchen and start preparing their dinner.&amp;nbsp; It is a balancing act of keeping them happy, and getting the things done that I need to do.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I cook, the kids either play together inside or outside, or they sit at the table and do puzzles, color, paint or work in their workbooks, or they fight like cats and dogs.&amp;nbsp; I try to keep the kitchen halfway clean, throw a load of laundry in the washer and keep the kids from destroying the rest of the house.&amp;nbsp; There are about three hours for us to cook dinner, eat dinner, take baths, have quality family time and go to bed.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I give up on all my things I need to do and just jump into thier world instead.&amp;nbsp; Last night I made&amp;nbsp; a roast during the day so I didn't have to cook.&amp;nbsp; Instead I followed the kids into the girls room.&amp;nbsp; We listened to music, climbed on the bed, talked about barbies and giggled.&amp;nbsp; It was so easy, they were so good.&amp;nbsp; I must remember to stop and follow them into their world more often.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Note to self, buy lottery tickets, need maid and cook:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-3100783916681192730?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/3100783916681192730/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2010/07/your-world-or-mine.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/3100783916681192730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/3100783916681192730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2010/07/your-world-or-mine.html' title='Your World or Mine?'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-4058673641858902376</id><published>2010-07-27T22:00:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-17T13:38:56.778-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birthdays'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='molly'/><title type='text'>Molly Moo Turns Two</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/TGrJBh4SdKI/AAAAAAAAAM0/HkfFiXIt3Uc/s1600/molly2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/TGrJBh4SdKI/AAAAAAAAAM0/HkfFiXIt3Uc/s320/molly2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Molly,&lt;br /&gt;I could just sit and watch you for hours.&amp;nbsp; You are the happiest person I have ever met.&amp;nbsp; You have a giant belly laugh that you use all the time.&amp;nbsp; Everything makes you laugh.&amp;nbsp; I hope you keep this ability to enjoy the little things in your life.&amp;nbsp; Not only are you happy, but you are growing and changing so fast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You talk non stop.&amp;nbsp; You say everything Alivia says (good and bad)&amp;nbsp; You also copy everyone else.&amp;nbsp; There are plenty of original words and thoughts comming out of your mouth too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week you started calling me Angie, and you think it is funny.&amp;nbsp; You love baby dolls and spend hours placing them in chairs, laps, strollers, tables, floors and beds then covering them with blankets.&amp;nbsp; You take your babies everywhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are one tough cookie in a tiny package of cuteness.&amp;nbsp; Your blonde hair and blue eyes fool everyone when they meet you.&amp;nbsp; I just let them visit with your for a while and it never fails that they come to me and say "Wow, she is a tough little one isn't she!"&amp;nbsp; You have no idea that you are not as big as all the older kids that you play with.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Not only do you already think you are 10 feet tall but you have NO FEAR.&amp;nbsp; You will jump into a pool by yourself.&amp;nbsp; You actually get mad when swimming because you want us to LET GO.&amp;nbsp; You climb the highest equipment at every playground we go to and you insist on being in the middle of the action at all times. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess no fear isn't exactly accurate.&amp;nbsp; You do not like loud noises like the neighbor's go cart or the lawn mower.&amp;nbsp; You are afraid of the tiny fan at the top of the stairs, but not of climbing up and down our huge steep wooden stairs.&amp;nbsp; You are also afraid of Rugar's (Grandma and Granpa's dog) rawhide chew bone.&amp;nbsp; What is that all about?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you grow and change from a baby into a little girl I continue to be amazed.&amp;nbsp; I learn from you every day&lt;br /&gt;You are my second daughter and my third child but definitely second to none.&amp;nbsp; You are your own person and have&amp;nbsp; been since the day I met you.&amp;nbsp; I love discovering who you are and wondering who you will be.&amp;nbsp; I love you with all my heart.&amp;nbsp; Happy Birthday baby girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/TGrI7QuaVSI/AAAAAAAAAMs/6WdlI_RQ7iI/s1600/molly3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/TGrI7QuaVSI/AAAAAAAAAMs/6WdlI_RQ7iI/s320/molly3.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/TGrI1HzB4JI/AAAAAAAAAMk/0KC3AURKxtc/s1600/molly4.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/TGrI1HzB4JI/AAAAAAAAAMk/0KC3AURKxtc/s320/molly4.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-4058673641858902376?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/4058673641858902376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2010/07/molly-moo-turns-two.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/4058673641858902376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/4058673641858902376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2010/07/molly-moo-turns-two.html' title='Molly Moo Turns Two'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/TGrJBh4SdKI/AAAAAAAAAM0/HkfFiXIt3Uc/s72-c/molly2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-3622027980417274959</id><published>2010-07-24T16:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-24T16:50:13.641-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='conversations'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='molly'/><title type='text'>HOT!</title><content type='html'>Molly has a constant stream of noise comming from her mouth.&amp;nbsp; She copies what people say, she joins in on conversations and talks right along, she talks to herself, she talks to her toys, and she sings...a lot.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Molly and I were in the garden today picking this weeks veggies.&amp;nbsp; I had half a grocery bag of broccoli, brussel sprouts and eggplant when her wining became more than I could take.&amp;nbsp; (I didn't even start to pick the green beans) So our conversation went like this;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: ok Molly we can go back to the house.&amp;nbsp; Are you hot?&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;Molly:&amp;nbsp; Yeah, HOT (hahahaha big laugh of happiness from molly after she talked because I know what she is going through and we are going inside)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we walked back to the house she said "Me hot"&lt;br /&gt;I said "Are YOU hot?"&lt;br /&gt;Molly:&amp;nbsp; "no ME!"&lt;br /&gt;Me:&amp;nbsp; "You are hot?"&lt;br /&gt;Molly: "No I!"&lt;br /&gt;Me: " I am hot?"&lt;br /&gt;Molly: "Yeah" (another big laugh as she was relieved to be understood.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The English language is rough when you are one...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-3622027980417274959?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/3622027980417274959/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2010/07/hot.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/3622027980417274959'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/3622027980417274959'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2010/07/hot.html' title='HOT!'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-6595428349908923047</id><published>2010-07-12T15:43:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-12T15:43:03.589-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marlin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='conversations'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Alivia'/><title type='text'>She Reads, He...I don't know what he does.</title><content type='html'>Alivia has been sounding out words lately.&amp;nbsp; Friday night we were leaving Cindy's house and I was talking about something and spelled the word STUPID.&amp;nbsp; From the back seat Alivia said "Stupid?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uh oh...time to start watching what we spell.&amp;nbsp; We told her she was right and she was so proud that she knew what we spelled.&amp;nbsp; Matt suggested that I spell another word just for fun to see if she could figure it out.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said "I don't even know what to S-A-Y"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alivia responded "Shit?"&amp;nbsp; "Did you spell Shit?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Matt and I got done with our front seat silent laughing we explained to her that shit is in a level way above stupid and shut up and she REALLY can't say that word.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Marlin also has been doing a lot of things.&amp;nbsp; He started taking gymnastics with his sister and although he is half the size of most of the girls in the class, he struts all over the gym having the time of his life.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom took him to the movie on Thursday and then she was driving Alivia to Romney so Matt could take her home.&amp;nbsp; On the way Marlin kept asking to go to my mom's house first.&amp;nbsp; She said they were running late and they couldn't go to her house.&amp;nbsp; Finally Marlin said, "Grandma, I really need to go back to your house because my penis is pointed the wrong way and I need to fix it!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-6595428349908923047?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/6595428349908923047/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2010/07/she-reads-hei-dont-know-what-he-does.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/6595428349908923047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/6595428349908923047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2010/07/she-reads-hei-dont-know-what-he-does.html' title='She Reads, He...I don&apos;t know what he does.'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-6369372289825389999</id><published>2010-05-01T15:50:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-30T15:44:44.770-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birthdays'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marlin'/><title type='text'>Marlin turns 4!</title><content type='html'>My little man is four years old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He has been ready for his birthday for months!!!&amp;nbsp; About 6 weeks before the big day, he woke up one Saturday and sneaked slowly down the stairs and with his sweet little smile he looked at me and said "Is today my birthday?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When it finally got here, we had a great birthday week.&amp;nbsp; On his actual birthday I picked the kids up.&amp;nbsp; Matt was planning on going swimming with all of us when he got off work but he was working late so we had a little time to kill.&amp;nbsp; I asked Marlin what he wanted for dinner.&amp;nbsp; He could have anything he wanted.&amp;nbsp; Of course, he chose McDonalds, but he wanted to go all out for his birthday and eat AT the restaurant.&amp;nbsp; The kids and I ate dinner at MickyD's and then went swimming.&amp;nbsp; After swimming we bathed the kids, put them in their jammies and gave them snacks in the locker rooms so we could go home and go straight to bed.&amp;nbsp; On the way home Birthday boy was still pretty fired up.&amp;nbsp; He was telling us all the things we were going to do when we got home.&amp;nbsp; I told him that we were going to bed when we got home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Marlin said "NO, I don't want to go to bed.&amp;nbsp; I want to be four."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said "Marlin you will still be four tomorrow when you wake up."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I will?" He said and he was much more willing for bedtime.&amp;nbsp; I guess telling him that he was going to be 4 on his birthday had been taken a little too literally by my little guy.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the weekend party, Marlin wanted "a house party."&amp;nbsp; So we had a Spiderman party in the back yard.&lt;br /&gt;Cousin Marley got her first tatoo and all the kids played all day.&amp;nbsp; It was a good time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe my little man is four.&amp;nbsp; Marlin, thanks for being the sweetest, funniest best son a mother could have.&amp;nbsp; I love you one hundred fifty thousand and one!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-6369372289825389999?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/6369372289825389999/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2010/05/marlin-turns-4.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/6369372289825389999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/6369372289825389999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2010/05/marlin-turns-4.html' title='Marlin turns 4!'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-7755345342724322186</id><published>2010-03-16T22:00:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-16T22:40:44.137-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Outings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='conversations'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Alivia'/><title type='text'>limits and advertising</title><content type='html'>I was at the grocery store yesterday with Alivia.&amp;nbsp; We were in the Laundry Detergent isle.&amp;nbsp; I was about half way down the isle from where Alivia was when I heard her scream "MOM! COME QUICK!!!"&amp;nbsp; I looked down at her and asked what was going on.&amp;nbsp; The pointed to a tub of oxyclean and said "I've seen this stuff on TV!&amp;nbsp; Its really good at getting stains out!&amp;nbsp; You should get some!"&amp;nbsp; She was so excited to have found something in real life that was on TV and according to TV&amp;nbsp; this stuff was awesome and we needed it:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later that day, Alivia was able to go to walmart and spend her 10 dollar gift card.&amp;nbsp; She was so excited to be able to buy something with her "credit card."&amp;nbsp; She picked out a pink skirt with ruffles for 8 dollars.&amp;nbsp; Then the life lesson began.&amp;nbsp; She wanted a matching shirt for her new skirt.&amp;nbsp; I told her that she couldn't afford a skirt and a shirt because she only had ten dollars. If she wanted something different she would have to put the skirt back.&amp;nbsp; It was very hard on her to be&amp;nbsp;happy with just the skirt.&amp;nbsp; She actually threw a little of a fit from&amp;nbsp;the cash register to the car.&amp;nbsp; Eventually she got it together and was&amp;nbsp;happy about her new skirt.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-7755345342724322186?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/7755345342724322186/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2010/03/limits-and-advertising.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/7755345342724322186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/7755345342724322186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2010/03/limits-and-advertising.html' title='limits and advertising'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-9026123986566848968</id><published>2010-02-24T22:00:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-24T22:00:01.623-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marlin'/><title type='text'>Armed and Dangerous</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S37hxjbcZ1I/AAAAAAAAAL0/j46rfmV-aLk/s1600-h/DSC04907.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ct="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S37hxjbcZ1I/AAAAAAAAAL0/j46rfmV-aLk/s320/DSC04907.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-9026123986566848968?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/9026123986566848968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2010/02/armed-and-dangerous.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/9026123986566848968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/9026123986566848968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2010/02/armed-and-dangerous.html' title='Armed and Dangerous'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S37hxjbcZ1I/AAAAAAAAAL0/j46rfmV-aLk/s72-c/DSC04907.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-6864341526698663908</id><published>2010-02-22T22:00:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-22T22:00:02.126-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Outings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marlin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='molly'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Drama'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Alivia'/><title type='text'>The Walmart Chronicles</title><content type='html'>We have had a few adventures at Walmart lately.&amp;nbsp; I honestly shop at Walmart about once a month.&amp;nbsp; This month I went twice and I paid dearly for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took all three kids to Walmart because we needed groceries and non grocery items and I wasn't in the mood to buckle everyone up,&amp;nbsp;unbuckle everyn, unload the kids from the minivan, shop with the kid, load the kids back into the van, buckle the kids into their car seats, drive, unbuckle the kids from their car seats, unload the kids from the minivan, shop with the kids again, load the kids into the minivan again, buckle them in again...you get the idea&amp;nbsp;(aka: haul all three kids to two stores)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we had a very successful trip, the big kids rode on the side of the cart and Molly was ok with sitting in the seat of the cart.&amp;nbsp; We played "find the food" and "all aboard (the cart is ready to move)" and filled the cart to the top with much needed items.&amp;nbsp; We were almost done, in the very back at the milk and orange juice.&amp;nbsp; I opened the refrigerator door to get out some orange juice and hit Marlin in the head with the door.&amp;nbsp; It didn't feel like I hit him that hard.&amp;nbsp; I didn't even turn around to look at him until I had reached in to get the orange juice.&amp;nbsp; When I turned around he was holding his forehead and crying.&amp;nbsp; Blood was running down his face.&amp;nbsp; It did not look good.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the chaos hit...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alivia saw the blood (that Marlin was un aware of at this point)&amp;nbsp; Alivia screamed and panicked and started freaking out.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Molly decided that there was a lot going on and she was missing it so she didn't want to be in the cart anymore and started screaming to get out.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I needed something to wipe the blood off so I could decide if this was a bandaid emergency or a stiches emergency.&amp;nbsp; I was thinking it would be stiches.&amp;nbsp; So I pulled the cart with Molly screaming and arching her back, Alivia freaking out and Marlin crying with blood all over his face and hand down the isles to the bathroom area where I ran into a Walmart employee who ran to get me a first aid kit.&amp;nbsp; As we were headed to the bathroom I remember thinking "even if we have to go to the hospital, I am buying this stuff first because I am not taking all the kids back here to do this shopping trip again."&amp;nbsp; I'm such an ass but hey, I have three kids.&amp;nbsp; If it would have been my first or second trip to the emergency room I would have probably skipped the check out lane.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once we got the blood cleared away I saw that we did not need stitches.&amp;nbsp; I thanked the lady for her help and her tiny bandage and I hauled our circus to the first aid supply isle.&amp;nbsp; We sat down in the middle of the isle and opened antibiotic cream, butterfly bandages and spiderman band aids and fixed my little man right up.&amp;nbsp; No problemo.&amp;nbsp; Did I listen to the Karma gods and stay away from Walmart?&amp;nbsp; Nope&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next week we returned to walmart where we needed to buy some non grocery items.&amp;nbsp; We were in the toothpaste isle.&amp;nbsp; Everyone was picking out&amp;nbsp; new toothbrushes and new toothpaste.&amp;nbsp; I decided to try the blue mouthwash for kids.&amp;nbsp; The idea is that you rinse before you brush and then you have to brush the blue off your teeth.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Brilliant (btw the bottle is still full and in my bathroom if anyone wants it).&amp;nbsp; So as we walked along Molly was riding in the back of the cart and throwing things out of the cart.&amp;nbsp; No big deal, the big kids pick the things up and it keeps them all entertained.&amp;nbsp; Then she threw the blue dye mouthwash out of the cart and everything started moving in slow motion.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the bottle hit the floor I saw it split open and start glugging blue dye into an enormous puddle on the floor.&amp;nbsp; At that exact moment Marlin was stepping forward and he stepped into it, slipped around for quite some time and landed face down in the puddle.&amp;nbsp; It was on his face, his sweater and his tan pants.&amp;nbsp; Marlin was crying, Molly was laughing and Alivia was freaking out because she thought we would be in trouble.&amp;nbsp; I thought that too but I didn't care.&amp;nbsp; I was hoping someone would notice and help but they didn't so I dragged the crying blue Marlin to the laundry detergent isle and sprayed him down with Shout stain remover.&amp;nbsp; I needed&amp;nbsp;to buy some more&amp;nbsp;stain remover anyway.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I threw the stain remover in the cart and headed to the check out lane.&amp;nbsp; On our way there I passed an employee that&amp;nbsp; noticed my blue child and I said "we made a mess in the mouthwash isle, you might want to check it out" and then I jsut kept on walking.&amp;nbsp; I have not been back to the store since.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I'm not sure they will let us back in.&amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-6864341526698663908?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/6864341526698663908/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2010/02/walmart-chronicles.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/6864341526698663908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/6864341526698663908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2010/02/walmart-chronicles.html' title='The Walmart Chronicles'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-6742395560615189822</id><published>2010-02-19T22:00:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-16T11:41:09.960-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marlin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='conversations'/><title type='text'>Marlin's "Carf"</title><content type='html'>Three years ago Alicia made scarves for me, Alivia and Marlin.&amp;nbsp; The kids have played with and worn their special scarves all year for the past three years.&amp;nbsp; Marlin was 5 months old when he got his "carf" and he refers to it as his "pecial carf."&amp;nbsp; Marlin takes his carf everywhere but it is getting a little small to really do any good as a scarf.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;This weekend he was at my moms and he told her he needed a new carf.&amp;nbsp; He wanted it to have noodles on the end like his old carf but his new one needed to be bigger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Four days later Grandma had a new carf and matching hat at our house for little Marlin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of carfs and missing s's.&amp;nbsp; Marlin plays spiderman and batman everyday. He has recently been explaing that he is piderman because he was bitten by a pecial pider.&amp;nbsp; Im going to miss his little boy voice someday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-6742395560615189822?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/6742395560615189822/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2010/02/marlins-carf.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/6742395560615189822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/6742395560615189822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2010/02/marlins-carf.html' title='Marlin&apos;s &quot;Carf&quot;'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-6393082439151000473</id><published>2010-02-19T22:00:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-19T22:00:01.926-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family Fun'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marlin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='molly'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Alivia'/><title type='text'>The magical train station</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Retro Post 5&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;We stopped by the train museum on the way home from grandma's one day.&amp;nbsp; This place is tiny but it was filled with Christmas warmth.&amp;nbsp; There is something about old trains and christmas that makes me want to sing songs and drink eggnog.&amp;nbsp; We watched the old train sets&amp;nbsp;as the trains circled through the hills and scenes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S2723MOLxwI/AAAAAAAAALc/3qWflOV9q4M/s1600-h/DSC04797.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S2723MOLxwI/AAAAAAAAALc/3qWflOV9q4M/s320/DSC04797.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S273PVY7nkI/AAAAAAAAALk/3K0DhrE_md0/s1600-h/DSC04794.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S273PVY7nkI/AAAAAAAAALk/3K0DhrE_md0/s320/DSC04794.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Then we talked to the Jolly Fat Man.&amp;nbsp; Alivia is not in the following pictures because she stayed a good ten feet away from him the whole time.&amp;nbsp; Marlin and Molly went up with Matt and told Santa what they wanted for Christmas.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S272BPuOYPI/AAAAAAAAALM/es_LCYhpRX0/s1600-h/DSC04789.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S272BPuOYPI/AAAAAAAAALM/es_LCYhpRX0/s320/DSC04789.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Then Little Miss "no-Fear" sat on Santa's lap.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S272gN5G7-I/AAAAAAAAALU/SN5rVcDoMTg/s1600-h/DSC04793.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S272gN5G7-I/AAAAAAAAALU/SN5rVcDoMTg/s320/DSC04793.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-6393082439151000473?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/6393082439151000473/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2010/02/magical-train-station.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/6393082439151000473'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/6393082439151000473'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2010/02/magical-train-station.html' title='The magical train station'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S2723MOLxwI/AAAAAAAAALc/3qWflOV9q4M/s72-c/DSC04797.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-2980434391999126834</id><published>2010-02-17T22:00:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-17T22:00:02.475-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family Fun'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marlin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='molly'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Alivia'/><title type='text'>What's Gonna Work?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Farm work!&amp;nbsp; What's gonna work...team work.&amp;nbsp; We have a wood burning furnace and that means that Matt spends a lot of time cutting and stacking firewood.&amp;nbsp; Sometime, if we want to see him on the weekend we need to help out.&amp;nbsp; We look forward to having three strapping children capable of unloading a truckload of wood in 2 minutes flat but right now we will take what we can get.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;For the princess, the proper clothes for the occasion are always required&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27qcBHubiI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/P-HGDVwoCWs/s1600-h/DSC04499.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27qcBHubiI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/P-HGDVwoCWs/s320/DSC04499.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;The little princess doesn't miss a thing.&amp;nbsp; She truly believes she is as big as everyone else and she is right in the middle of the action in every situation...including stacking wood.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27q0rx46YI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/7JtBFrPDm_0/s1600-h/DSC04501.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27q0rx46YI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/7JtBFrPDm_0/s320/DSC04501.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;When it is her idea, Alivia can work hard and be very helpful already.&amp;nbsp; Im proud of my 5 year old "farm girl"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27rK8NLZBI/AAAAAAAAAKE/wHlAxS9W58Q/s1600-h/DSC04505.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27rK8NLZBI/AAAAAAAAAKE/wHlAxS9W58Q/s320/DSC04505.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;I am also proud of my 3 year old "farm boy."&amp;nbsp; Marlin worked and worked to get a good sized (for him) log to the wood pile.&amp;nbsp; He dropped it several times and finally got it stacked on the pile.&amp;nbsp; Then my&amp;nbsp;little son swelled up and strutted off to get his next log. Its hard to describe how his entire posture and expression turned from a struggling little boy to a serious bad&amp;nbsp; ass.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27rhOrM-wI/AAAAAAAAAKM/a9XUAs--XiI/s1600-h/DSC04504.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27rhOrM-wI/AAAAAAAAAKM/a9XUAs--XiI/s320/DSC04504.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-2980434391999126834?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/2980434391999126834/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2010/02/whats-gonna-work.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/2980434391999126834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/2980434391999126834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2010/02/whats-gonna-work.html' title='What&apos;s Gonna Work?'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27qcBHubiI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/P-HGDVwoCWs/s72-c/DSC04499.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-7182397072719706985</id><published>2010-02-11T22:00:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-11T22:00:01.788-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Turkey Day in Kentucky</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Retro Post 4&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;We traveled to Kentucky for Thanksgiving.&amp;nbsp; We were all excited for the trip.&amp;nbsp; We left Wednesday evening after work.&amp;nbsp; I picked the kids up from the babysitters and then we went home to load the van.&amp;nbsp; Alivia was so exited she got her backpack of toys and sat in her seat in the van for 40 minutes before we left.&amp;nbsp; I told her we still had time but she didn't want to get out.&amp;nbsp; As we were driving I heard her say "Marlin isn't this so fun!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;We stoped at McDonalds for dinner and I took the kids to the bathroom.&amp;nbsp; We were running accross the parking lot and then onto the sidewalk and Alivia screamed "This is AWESOME!!!!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;We finally arrived at Granny and Papa's.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Early Thursday morning Alivia, Granny and I started to cook an enormous meal for the crowd that would arrive that afternoon.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27tz8HsmxI/AAAAAAAAAKU/gZTVONWn8mI/s1600-h/DSC04577.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27tz8HsmxI/AAAAAAAAAKU/gZTVONWn8mI/s320/DSC04577.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Alivia was in charge of the sweet potatos and she did a wonderful job.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27uLw9dV4I/AAAAAAAAAKc/kkFRhQbBxMs/s1600-h/DSC04584.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27uLw9dV4I/AAAAAAAAAKc/kkFRhQbBxMs/s320/DSC04584.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Granny had it all planned out so we just cooked and cooked and cooked.&amp;nbsp; It was fun.&amp;nbsp; I have never made that much food in my entire life!&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27ur3Hol9I/AAAAAAAAAKk/qii5_-Lqa5c/s1600-h/DSC04586.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27ur3Hol9I/AAAAAAAAAKk/qii5_-Lqa5c/s320/DSC04586.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Here is part of the spread.&amp;nbsp; Emmy is supervising.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27vCh5Or4I/AAAAAAAAAKs/viZI_REmWEs/s1600-h/DSC04587.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27vCh5Or4I/AAAAAAAAAKs/viZI_REmWEs/s320/DSC04587.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Daddy and Molly&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27vXtWB86I/AAAAAAAAAK0/RfiQqQ4q59A/s1600-h/DSC04588.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27vXtWB86I/AAAAAAAAAK0/RfiQqQ4q59A/s320/DSC04588.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Alivia, meet your cousins&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27vvRKDPjI/AAAAAAAAAK8/FP79PJBRnkM/s1600-h/DSC04592.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27vvRKDPjI/AAAAAAAAAK8/FP79PJBRnkM/s320/DSC04592.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Missy thinks it's good.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27wEEqqLmI/AAAAAAAAALE/DUUzbfmVfHA/s1600-h/DSC04593.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27wEEqqLmI/AAAAAAAAALE/DUUzbfmVfHA/s320/DSC04593.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;The three boys were worn out the next morning so we let them sleep in.&amp;nbsp; It must have been all that &lt;strike&gt;cooking&lt;/strike&gt; eating.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-7182397072719706985?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/7182397072719706985/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2010/02/turkey-day-in-kentucky.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/7182397072719706985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/7182397072719706985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2010/02/turkey-day-in-kentucky.html' title='Turkey Day in Kentucky'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27tz8HsmxI/AAAAAAAAAKU/gZTVONWn8mI/s72-c/DSC04577.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-2581175738909335868</id><published>2010-02-10T22:00:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-10T22:00:00.953-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Trick or Treat</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Retro Post 3&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Trick or Treating at Brad and Laurens has become an annual tradition.&amp;nbsp;Last year&amp;nbsp;(2008) sucked because it was the day the&amp;nbsp;doctors told us Molly needed a heart transplant.&amp;nbsp; We sucked it up and went anyway so the big kids could have a good time.&amp;nbsp; This year was awesome.&amp;nbsp; It was&amp;nbsp; a celebration of making it through the last year and looking at how far we have come.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;At this time in October we had just started working with Molly on using signs.&amp;nbsp; We had been showing her the sign for "more" in hopes of having her communicate using something other than screams.&amp;nbsp; She had been less than receptive to using the sign.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;This year the Dark Knight was there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27l-YfoobI/AAAAAAAAAI8/uZ2-SVmdV3M/s1600-h/DSC04430.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27l-YfoobI/AAAAAAAAAI8/uZ2-SVmdV3M/s320/DSC04430.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;The kids gathered outside with cousin Audrey&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27jnAjdBHI/AAAAAAAAAIM/Q2SSH9HLYqQ/s1600-h/DSC04435.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27jnAjdBHI/AAAAAAAAAIM/Q2SSH9HLYqQ/s320/DSC04435.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;After pictures, they put there coats on and went trick or treating.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; The big sisters are good buddies.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27kM4PMXhI/AAAAAAAAAIU/BK2x2Ne491I/s1600-h/DSC04439.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27kM4PMXhI/AAAAAAAAAIU/BK2x2Ne491I/s320/DSC04439.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Molly was pretty excited once she figured out the routine.&amp;nbsp; Walk to door, hold out bucket, get candy...what a fun game!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27kmRFnsvI/AAAAAAAAAIc/PUiGxV8FuDQ/s1600-h/DSC04442.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27kmRFnsvI/AAAAAAAAAIc/PUiGxV8FuDQ/s320/DSC04442.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Matt and I also participated in the festivities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27k8pgC0MI/AAAAAAAAAIk/ibHS0IALbYo/s1600-h/DSC04450.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27k8pgC0MI/AAAAAAAAAIk/ibHS0IALbYo/s320/DSC04450.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Back at the house Audrey shared M&amp;amp;Ms with Molly.&amp;nbsp; These were Molly's first M&amp;amp;Ms and she was pretty enthusiastic about them.&amp;nbsp; When the M&amp;amp;Ms were gone&amp;nbsp; Molly walked around the house signing "more"&amp;nbsp; to everyone.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27lS1UNwKI/AAAAAAAAAIs/14nco61VVPA/s1600-h/DSC04454.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27lS1UNwKI/AAAAAAAAAIs/14nco61VVPA/s320/DSC04454.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;The big girls watched a movie at the end of the night.&amp;nbsp; Alivia loves Audrey...even when she picks her nose.&amp;nbsp; Knowing Alivia, she probably taught Audrey that move.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27lpse7VxI/AAAAAAAAAI0/XxmYAiwnVZo/s1600-h/DSC04460.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27lpse7VxI/AAAAAAAAAI0/XxmYAiwnVZo/s320/DSC04460.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Marlin dove into the blocks and constructed a wall to keep the girls out of the play area.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27mTHnUmNI/AAAAAAAAAJE/zsSBvS6xP1Y/s1600-h/DSC04463.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27mTHnUmNI/AAAAAAAAAJE/zsSBvS6xP1Y/s320/DSC04463.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;It is so nice to have my brother and his family so close!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-2581175738909335868?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/2581175738909335868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2010/02/trick-or-treat.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/2581175738909335868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/2581175738909335868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2010/02/trick-or-treat.html' title='Trick or Treat'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27l-YfoobI/AAAAAAAAAI8/uZ2-SVmdV3M/s72-c/DSC04430.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-3438174478273917923</id><published>2010-02-09T22:00:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-09T22:00:01.212-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Aliva'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Holiday&apos;s'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marlin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='molly'/><title type='text'>Party at Barbara's</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Retro Post 2&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Halloween was pretty big this year.&amp;nbsp; The kids wore their costumes to three different events.&amp;nbsp; The first Halloween event we attended was a party at Barbara's house.&amp;nbsp; We love Barb.&amp;nbsp; She planned a very fun evening for all of us. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27gqOha93I/AAAAAAAAAHc/6htxNwDKaF4/s1600-h/DSC04411.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27gqOha93I/AAAAAAAAAHc/6htxNwDKaF4/s320/DSC04411.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Here is Barb and baby Lily.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27heTxDDuI/AAAAAAAAAHs/id6j7habZZk/s1600-h/DSC04402.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27heTxDDuI/AAAAAAAAAHs/id6j7habZZk/s320/DSC04402.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;The whole gang&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27h2sjeFoI/AAAAAAAAAH0/Xiv87mXZ4u4/s1600-h/DSC04407.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27h2sjeFoI/AAAAAAAAAH0/Xiv87mXZ4u4/s320/DSC04407.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Alivia holding Lily for the first time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27hGjp-qCI/AAAAAAAAAHk/VVhG-Y55Xpo/s1600-h/DSC04400.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27hGjp-qCI/AAAAAAAAAHk/VVhG-Y55Xpo/s320/DSC04400.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Cortney and baby Lily...we love them too!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27iNIqWQWI/AAAAAAAAAH8/UgHPea_hesk/s1600-h/DSC04413.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27iNIqWQWI/AAAAAAAAAH8/UgHPea_hesk/s320/DSC04413.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;The party picked up its pace after the sugar was handed out.&amp;nbsp; People were dancing on furniture, drawing on windows and running around the house without their pants on.&amp;nbsp; It was CRAZY!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27ih-Fs7SI/AAAAAAAAAIE/2zk7_Z4AcY8/s1600-h/DSC04418.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27ih-Fs7SI/AAAAAAAAAIE/2zk7_Z4AcY8/s320/DSC04418.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Thanks Barb!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-3438174478273917923?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/3438174478273917923/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2010/02/party-at-barbaras.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/3438174478273917923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/3438174478273917923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2010/02/party-at-barbaras.html' title='Party at Barbara&apos;s'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27gqOha93I/AAAAAAAAAHc/6htxNwDKaF4/s72-c/DSC04411.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-4310331597044140282</id><published>2010-02-08T22:00:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-08T22:00:03.221-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family Fun'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Holiday&apos;s'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marlin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Alivia'/><title type='text'>Four Month Old Jack O Lanterns</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;So I took a four month break from this blog.&amp;nbsp; I don't have any excuses I am just busy.&amp;nbsp; During those months we had Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas.&amp;nbsp; I am declaring this retro week and will be catching up on some of the highlights that I missed blogging about.&amp;nbsp; Hopefully by next week I will be caught up and can have more current posts.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;October---&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;The big kids got pumpkins from a pumpkin patch that their school took them to.&amp;nbsp; They drew faces on the pumpkins so we could cut them out.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27dmfi_nXI/AAAAAAAAAG0/mklpHMF8QVQ/s1600-h/DSC04365.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27dmfi_nXI/AAAAAAAAAG0/mklpHMF8QVQ/s320/DSC04365.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27eW2t8acI/AAAAAAAAAG8/o8b863Xdt7c/s1600-h/DSC04368.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27eW2t8acI/AAAAAAAAAG8/o8b863Xdt7c/s320/DSC04368.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27ev6AVjhI/AAAAAAAAAHE/gJFepxVS4q4/s1600-h/DSC04374.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27ev6AVjhI/AAAAAAAAAHE/gJFepxVS4q4/s320/DSC04374.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Outside seemed like the best option for this messy project.&amp;nbsp; Molly was sleeping so she did not get to join in the mess but that made things a lot more simple.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;When we were done carving them we put them on the front porch.&amp;nbsp; That evening we went out to light our Jack O Lanters and see what they looked like in the dark.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27fHGoXF_I/AAAAAAAAAHM/LEMut3j4LfI/s1600-h/DSC04393.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27fHGoXF_I/AAAAAAAAAHM/LEMut3j4LfI/s320/DSC04393.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;When I took the picture of the Jack O Lanterns, Alivia and Marlin were screaming because it was dark.&amp;nbsp; So, I used the flash for the next picture and got this shot below.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27fcwzqlHI/AAAAAAAAAHU/VYAYtymtUds/s1600-h/DSC04394.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27fcwzqlHI/AAAAAAAAAHU/VYAYtymtUds/s320/DSC04394.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Very Scary&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&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/892698573936897166-4310331597044140282?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/4310331597044140282/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2010/02/four-month-old-jack-o-lanterns.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/4310331597044140282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/4310331597044140282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2010/02/four-month-old-jack-o-lanterns.html' title='Four Month Old Jack O Lanterns'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27dmfi_nXI/AAAAAAAAAG0/mklpHMF8QVQ/s72-c/DSC04365.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-745105037979507555</id><published>2010-02-07T22:00:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-04T11:17:12.894-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='molly'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Alivia'/><title type='text'>Pretty Granny</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Once upon a time there was a beautiful princess named Alivia.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Princess Alivia decided Granny needed a makeover.&amp;nbsp; So she put her hair in pony tails and added 25 hair clips to add some sparkle to granny's hair.&amp;nbsp; Granny was a good sport.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27Yo3chfEI/AAAAAAAAAGc/w5ZyZ8fYgb8/s1600-h/DSC04336.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27Yo3chfEI/AAAAAAAAAGc/w5ZyZ8fYgb8/s320/DSC04336.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;The princess has a tiger for a little sister&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27ZDAbmI2I/AAAAAAAAAGk/Wjx9ERNCKiE/s1600-h/DSC04346.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27ZDAbmI2I/AAAAAAAAAGk/Wjx9ERNCKiE/s320/DSC04346.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Even tigers need makeovers.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27ZYK83M0I/AAAAAAAAAGs/tWfv4nnj7X0/s1600-h/DSC04348.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27ZYK83M0I/AAAAAAAAAGs/tWfv4nnj7X0/s320/DSC04348.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-745105037979507555?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/745105037979507555/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2010/02/pretty-granny.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/745105037979507555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/745105037979507555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2010/02/pretty-granny.html' title='Pretty Granny'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S27Yo3chfEI/AAAAAAAAAGc/w5ZyZ8fYgb8/s72-c/DSC04336.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-169594587502350197</id><published>2010-02-06T19:58:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-07T10:11:07.205-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family Fun'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marlin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Winter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='molly'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Alivia'/><title type='text'>A Sledding Story by Alivia</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Alivia: "Me and marlin had lots of fun.&amp;nbsp; We went sledding in our back yard before we went sledding at the cabin."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S23OesekbEI/AAAAAAAAAFc/7tbwZCueIiw/s1600-h/sledding1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S23OesekbEI/AAAAAAAAAFc/7tbwZCueIiw/s320/sledding1.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Alivia: "That's when we went sledding at the cabin.&amp;nbsp; It was really fun.&amp;nbsp; We liked it a lot and we had hot chocolate when we got home.&amp;nbsp; And we had snowball fights and made a big snowman when we went sledding."&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S23XBNv2W7I/AAAAAAAAAF8/3aZB6MCJcDc/s1600-h/DSC04990.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S23XBNv2W7I/AAAAAAAAAF8/3aZB6MCJcDc/s320/DSC04990.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Everybody Ready....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S23PFR4t5OI/AAAAAAAAAFk/KHbditi3TJk/s1600-h/DSC04991.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S23PFR4t5OI/AAAAAAAAAFk/KHbditi3TJk/s320/DSC04991.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;GO!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Alivia: "Don't tip Daddy!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S23PbKsszoI/AAAAAAAAAFs/j3b6NZjIH1w/s1600-h/DSC04993.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S23PbKsszoI/AAAAAAAAAFs/j3b6NZjIH1w/s320/DSC04993.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Laughing out Loud!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S23Pu1baQaI/AAAAAAAAAF0/Xu8RC0UOylw/s1600-h/DSC04995.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S23Pu1baQaI/AAAAAAAAAF0/Xu8RC0UOylw/s320/DSC04995.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Molly was laughing the whole way down the hill everytime.&amp;nbsp; She wanted to go over and over again.&amp;nbsp; When we headed back to the cabin she let out 2 seconds of crying and then leaned back and fell &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;asleep in the sled.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S23XnjW7rpI/AAAAAAAAAGE/tqCPzJYMElc/s1600-h/DSC05001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S23XnjW7rpI/AAAAAAAAAGE/tqCPzJYMElc/s320/DSC05001.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;I tried to lay her down in the cabin but it didn't work.&amp;nbsp; We came outside and built a snowman.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S23X8wnCaOI/AAAAAAAAAGM/7J-Q7THhFNo/s1600-h/DSC05006.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S23X8wnCaOI/AAAAAAAAAGM/7J-Q7THhFNo/s320/DSC05006.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Molly did not participate.&amp;nbsp; She was DONE!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S23YQbiEOaI/AAAAAAAAAGU/tX83iTI_fds/s1600-h/DSC05007.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S23YQbiEOaI/AAAAAAAAAGU/tX83iTI_fds/s320/DSC05007.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-169594587502350197?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/169594587502350197/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2010/02/sledding-story-by-alivia.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/169594587502350197'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/169594587502350197'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2010/02/sledding-story-by-alivia.html' title='A Sledding Story by Alivia'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/S23OesekbEI/AAAAAAAAAFc/7tbwZCueIiw/s72-c/sledding1.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-4181155008544619611</id><published>2009-09-30T21:00:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-30T21:00:00.809-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marlin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='molly'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Alivia'/><title type='text'>My Arms are Full</title><content type='html'>Molly woke up at 3:30 am.&amp;nbsp; Nothing was wrong with her, she was just awake.&amp;nbsp; When I got out of bed Alivia (who was sleeping with me)&amp;nbsp; also got up and followed me around the house.&amp;nbsp; I woke Matt up off the couch and sent him to bed with Alivia so I could have the couch with Molly.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; We watched a little tv together and she rolled all over me and eventually fell asleep.&amp;nbsp; I was into a show at that time so I stayed up, holding my little girl and watching her sleep.&amp;nbsp; When I finally decided to get up and put her back into her bed I cradled her tiny sleeping body in my arms and stood up.&amp;nbsp; I watched her little mouth squirm.&amp;nbsp; I noticed how much her hair has grown lately and I just breathed in the moment and tried to lock it into my memory.&amp;nbsp; So sweet and so amazing.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;After putting Molly back to bed I crawled into bed where Alivia rolled over and cuddled my head.&amp;nbsp; (its like sleeping with a cat)&amp;nbsp; I cuddled back and thought to myself how full my arms are all the time.&amp;nbsp; Not just during the day but 24 hours a day 7 days a week I am surrounded by little loving people.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;When I got up this morning.&amp;nbsp; I woke Marlin up and we sat on the couch together snuggling under his ball blankie and talked.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;I am sooooo tired today. Instead of being grumpy I am grateful.&amp;nbsp; Grateful to be surrounded by so much love.&amp;nbsp; Who cares if I never get a full night's sleep agian.&amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-4181155008544619611?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/4181155008544619611/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/09/my-arms-are-full.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/4181155008544619611'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/4181155008544619611'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/09/my-arms-are-full.html' title='My Arms are Full'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-4841399028523054071</id><published>2009-09-29T21:00:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-29T21:00:00.574-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Matt'/><title type='text'>Seven Years</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SsJcEWYFN1I/AAAAAAAAAFI/ZcxR9FvAA-s/s1600-h/matt2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" iq="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SsJcEWYFN1I/AAAAAAAAAFI/ZcxR9FvAA-s/s320/matt2.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Today I want to talk about my partner in crime.&amp;nbsp; Not the one in the front of this picture...although everything in life really does seem to be about her (and two other little people).&amp;nbsp; I am refering to my husband.&amp;nbsp; We have been married for seven years today and oh, what a ride it has been.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Seven years ago we were two free spirited kids getting ready for a two week vacation in Jamacia.&amp;nbsp; We were marrying our best friends (at least I was, Matt will have to verify that it went both ways:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Life was so fun and simple.&amp;nbsp; Neither of us could have known what the next seven years would be like.&amp;nbsp; Three children and many stories&amp;nbsp;later we often find ourselves exhausted and overwhelmed.&amp;nbsp; It is hard to even put into words the transformation that both our lives have made.&amp;nbsp; I can't imagine doing it with anyone else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Matt is a super dad and husband and I am so glad to be on this wild ride with him.&amp;nbsp;Although things are rarely simple anymore, he still makes life fun.&amp;nbsp; He is still good at simplifying complicated things.&amp;nbsp;He is still the one I want to come home to, the one I want to talk to when something happens, the one that make me laugh, the one who makes life worth living and the one I love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Matt, thanks for being my partner in crime and my best friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SsJaYvz3W5I/AAAAAAAAAFA/m2seVmdT3eo/s1600-h/matt.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" iq="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SsJaYvz3W5I/AAAAAAAAAFA/m2seVmdT3eo/s320/matt.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/892698573936897166-4841399028523054071?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/4841399028523054071/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/09/seven-years.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/4841399028523054071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/4841399028523054071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/09/seven-years.html' title='Seven Years'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SsJcEWYFN1I/AAAAAAAAAFI/ZcxR9FvAA-s/s72-c/matt2.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-6269127487848957671</id><published>2009-09-25T21:00:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-25T21:00:01.174-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marlin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='conversations'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Alivia'/><title type='text'>Funny guys</title><content type='html'>My three children crack me up.  Just little things, every day.  I have already forgotten 1,000,000,000,000,000 things they have said that made me either laugh or smile.  Here are tww that happened today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Marlin made a wreath at preschool.  It is the classic paper plate cut out with some fall color, construction paper, leaves on it.  He is so proud and he informed me that he is going to take it home and hang it on his "nor dog." (read - door knob)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alivia sang a song from Mary Poppins in the back of the van on the way to the babysitter's house today.  &lt;br /&gt;"It's a jolly holiday with Mary" &lt;br /&gt;la la la la la la la&lt;br /&gt;"When Mary takes your hand, you feel so grand.  Your heart starts beating like a big brass band.  Its a jolly holiday with goober."  (should be "with you Bert")&lt;br /&gt;She sang it over and over again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-6269127487848957671?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/6269127487848957671/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/09/funny-guys.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/6269127487848957671'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/6269127487848957671'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/09/funny-guys.html' title='Funny guys'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-8400564027292660962</id><published>2009-09-23T21:00:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-23T21:00:01.688-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Alivia'/><title type='text'>Gymnastics</title><content type='html'>Alivia started her second year of gymnastics classes last week.&amp;nbsp; She is five and I had to decide if she needed another year in the preschool class for 4 and 5 year olds or if I put her in the beginner 1 class for children 6 and up.&amp;nbsp; I talked to her awesome gymnastics instructor (who I used to teach gymnastics with), Kara, and she recommended beginner 1.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, beginner 1 classes can have children of all ages.&amp;nbsp; I told Alivia she would be with some bigger kids because she was in the six year old class.&amp;nbsp; Then on the way to gymnastics I started to think, the kids could be 10 they could be twice as big as her.&amp;nbsp; I tried to warn her.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Alivia your class is for kids that are 6 and OLDER so there could be some very big kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alivia: I know (she knows everything)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:&amp;nbsp; Don't worry, Kara will still be your teacher and she will make sure you are ok.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alivia: And she will make sure the big kids don't knock me down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: right (from the rearview mirror I thougth Alivia looked concerned so I continued)&amp;nbsp; The first class is alway's a little scary but remember, when you are afraid, you just do what you need to do and you will have fun.&amp;nbsp; You may have to use your courage and be brave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alivia: MOM, STOP TALKING!&amp;nbsp; I AM NOT AFRAID!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okey Dokey.&amp;nbsp; Maybe it was me that was afraid.&amp;nbsp; Afraid my tiny little girl would be overwhelmed by the big kids.&amp;nbsp; Afraid she would be in over her head and it would be all my fault.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took her in and Kara came down the stairs to get the class and take them upstairs.&amp;nbsp; Alivia tromped right up and got in line in her bright pink boots and her gymnastics leotard.&amp;nbsp; She climbed up the stairs with the big kids who were at least a foot taller than her.&amp;nbsp; I could no longer see them.&amp;nbsp; I couldn't help, I couldn't watch to make sure it was going ok.&amp;nbsp; I just waited...an hour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/Sronf7EJJCI/AAAAAAAAAEo/zm0Q-f5hnWY/s1600-h/IMG00446-20090914-1821.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" iq="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/Sronf7EJJCI/AAAAAAAAAEo/zm0Q-f5hnWY/s320/IMG00446-20090914-1821.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she came down, I asked her how it was and she said "It was good, I was better than all the other big kids."&amp;nbsp; I hope she keeps that confidence her whole life.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would not have anticipated the nervousness that I felt with this experience.&amp;nbsp; Motherhood is so complicated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&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/892698573936897166-8400564027292660962?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/8400564027292660962/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/09/gymnastics.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/8400564027292660962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/8400564027292660962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/09/gymnastics.html' title='Gymnastics'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/Sronf7EJJCI/AAAAAAAAAEo/zm0Q-f5hnWY/s72-c/IMG00446-20090914-1821.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-7124855093627812170</id><published>2009-09-15T21:00:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-15T21:00:01.005-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marlin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='conversations'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Alivia'/><title type='text'>Bath Time</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;My little monkeys can scale up the bathroom counter like it is a ladder.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; They use the drawer knobs as steps.&amp;nbsp; I'm sure&amp;nbsp;the knobs&amp;nbsp;will fall off soon but for now it works.&amp;nbsp; They scale the cabinet and sit on the counter to do their toothbrushing, handwashing and mirror looking.&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/Sq5WZ_N9rGI/AAAAAAAAADk/biORUG3BFsw/s1600-h/IMG00427-20090913-1924.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" mq="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/Sq5WZ_N9rGI/AAAAAAAAADk/biORUG3BFsw/s320/IMG00427-20090913-1924.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Last night it was bath time but Marlin wanted to wash his hands first.&amp;nbsp; So I stood with him while he climbed onto the counter and washed.&amp;nbsp; He looked at me and said "My teachers know how to wash their hands."&amp;nbsp; Then he proceeded to give me a lesson.&amp;nbsp; "You get your hands wet, then you get some soap and rub your hands together"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;(I've been telling him these steps for years and he never listens but instead of telling a 3 year old I told you so, I decided to just take pictures with my camera)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/Sq5W1_sge0I/AAAAAAAAADs/iT0Cbom25qQ/s1600-h/IMG00411-20090913-1922.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" mq="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/Sq5W1_sge0I/AAAAAAAAADs/iT0Cbom25qQ/s320/IMG00411-20090913-1922.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;"I can do it better than my teachers, watch this move"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/Sq5XYpF0a6I/AAAAAAAAAD0/C8WufVNaADY/s1600-h/IMG00413-20090913-1922.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" mq="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/Sq5XYpF0a6I/AAAAAAAAAD0/C8WufVNaADY/s320/IMG00413-20090913-1922.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;"Oh look a mirror behind me aren't I cute"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/Sq5X06sHSTI/AAAAAAAAAD8/iGYWzf2jee4/s1600-h/IMG00415-20090913-1922.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" mq="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/Sq5X06sHSTI/AAAAAAAAAD8/iGYWzf2jee4/s320/IMG00415-20090913-1922.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;"Then you rinse them like this"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/Sq5YNUP6k9I/AAAAAAAAAEE/QudPI1NIF4Y/s1600-h/IMG00417-20090913-1922.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" mq="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/Sq5YNUP6k9I/AAAAAAAAAEE/QudPI1NIF4Y/s320/IMG00417-20090913-1922.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;After my handwashing lesson we sat and talked about halloween for a while.&amp;nbsp; Marlin has been having trouble deciding between Batman and Spiderman.&amp;nbsp; He let me know last night that he will be Batman for Halloween and then when he grows up he will be Spiderman.&amp;nbsp; Im glad he finally decided.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/Sq5ZVqivejI/AAAAAAAAAEM/8M5GSSP_I4w/s1600-h/IMG00434-20090913-1925.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" mq="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/Sq5ZVqivejI/AAAAAAAAAEM/8M5GSSP_I4w/s320/IMG00434-20090913-1925.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Aliva came in and asked us what we were doing (in her gymnastics outfit because she had been practicing)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" mq="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/Sq5Z3CTS7qI/AAAAAAAAAEU/Pu0k83AN8mI/s320/IMG00435-20090913-1925.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Then I gave them a bath and when they got out they were so cute with their wet heads and their big blue eyes so I decided to get one more picture.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Unfortunately, Alivia gave me her "picture face"&amp;nbsp; and&amp;nbsp;Marlin watched, learned and imitated his big sister.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/Sq5anL_1aYI/AAAAAAAAAEc/iorV-h7jAQg/s1600-h/IMG00439-20090913-1955.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" mq="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/Sq5anL_1aYI/AAAAAAAAAEc/iorV-h7jAQg/s320/IMG00439-20090913-1955.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-7124855093627812170?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/7124855093627812170/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/09/bath-time.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/7124855093627812170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/7124855093627812170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/09/bath-time.html' title='Bath Time'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/Sq5WZ_N9rGI/AAAAAAAAADk/biORUG3BFsw/s72-c/IMG00427-20090913-1924.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-2679358982684105560</id><published>2009-09-14T21:00:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-14T21:00:01.464-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Outings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='conversations'/><title type='text'>New Van</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;We got a new van.&amp;nbsp; I think the kids are as excited as I am.&amp;nbsp; Molly just turned one so she gets to ride facing forward in the new van.&amp;nbsp; She looks out the windows and really likes going places now.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/Sq5Rn1BGahI/AAAAAAAAADM/0rwyUuGLFjU/s1600-h/IMG00336-20090809-1602.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" mq="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/Sq5Rn1BGahI/AAAAAAAAADM/0rwyUuGLFjU/s320/IMG00336-20090809-1602.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;We have&amp;nbsp;a DVD player in the van now.&amp;nbsp; The kids are only allowed to watch movies when we go on long trips.&amp;nbsp; I turned one on the other day for Alivia and Marlin and look who was the most excited...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/Sq5SLkKMPAI/AAAAAAAAADU/eVj7qT9zZz4/s1600-h/IMG00335-20090809-1602.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" mq="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/Sq5SLkKMPAI/AAAAAAAAADU/eVj7qT9zZz4/s320/IMG00335-20090809-1602.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Yep, Molly is pointing at the movie screen.&amp;nbsp; We only have two sets of head phones.&amp;nbsp; I really need to get a third.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;I took Alivia to Valparaso to Courtney's shower a few weeks ago and she watched movies the whole way there and the whole way back.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/Sq5TY4fkR0I/AAAAAAAAADc/LFR8iozQ5rM/s1600-h/IMG00349-20090816-1047.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" mq="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/Sq5TY4fkR0I/AAAAAAAAADc/LFR8iozQ5rM/s320/IMG00349-20090816-1047.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;She really enjoys it and it makes the ride nice for both of us.&amp;nbsp; There are a few details that she is still figuring out.&amp;nbsp; For example, when she has the headphones on she screams at the top of her lungs "MOM, CAN YOU HEAR ME?"&lt;br /&gt;On the ride back from the shower Courtney and her cousin Jenna were with us and Alivia was watching Mary Poppins.&amp;nbsp; Everyonce and a while she would just burst out in song with the movie.&amp;nbsp; She was completely oblivious to the fact that we could hear her.&amp;nbsp; It was so cute.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-2679358982684105560?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/2679358982684105560/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/09/new-van.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/2679358982684105560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/2679358982684105560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/09/new-van.html' title='New Van'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/Sq5Rn1BGahI/AAAAAAAAADM/0rwyUuGLFjU/s72-c/IMG00336-20090809-1602.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-7955612938352273019</id><published>2009-09-12T15:46:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-12T15:46:00.443-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Outings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marlin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='molly'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Alivia'/><title type='text'>A Group Effort</title><content type='html'>Ah the grocery store.&amp;nbsp; The place where we go to get all the things we need to eat.&amp;nbsp; The place where I continue to foolishly think I can do EVERYTHING and I bring my three children with me to gather food.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the first picture you can see Molly holding the "ba" (ball, aka orange)&amp;nbsp; Notice the food stacked in the seat of the grocery cart and the child in the back.&amp;nbsp; Anything wrong with that picture.&amp;nbsp; She won't sit down.&amp;nbsp; I can't get the strap tight enough to keep her from standing up so I give up and let her be in the back of the cart where she can stand up, eat and&amp;nbsp;smoosh the groceries and throw anything out of the cart that she doesn't think is worth purchasing.&amp;nbsp; Is she my major challenge in the grocery store?&amp;nbsp; Well, its a three way tie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SqqpMnZO86I/AAAAAAAAACs/G6f0Qc9-icE/s1600-h/%3D%3Futf-8%3FB%3FSU1HMDAzNTUtMjAwOTA4MjItMTY0MS5qcGc%3D%3F%3D-718347" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380298739045823394" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SqqpMnZO86I/AAAAAAAAACs/G6f0Qc9-icE/s320/%3D%3Futf-8%3FB%3FSU1HMDAzNTUtMjAwOTA4MjItMTY0MS5qcGc%3D%3F%3D-718347" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="mobile-photo"&gt;Still in the first picture, note my sweet Alvia...with my purse.&amp;nbsp; Three minutes before I took this picture I heard her talking to someone and when I turned around to look, she was wearing my purse and talking to her dad on my blackberry.&amp;nbsp; How old is she? 5? or 15?&amp;nbsp; Sometimes it is hard to tell.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="mobile-photo"&gt;She is actually helpful at the grocery store if she is in a good mood.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="mobile-photo"&gt;Remember the nursery rhyme...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="mobile-photo"&gt;There was a little girl who had a little curl right in the middle of her forehead.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="mobile-photo"&gt;When she was good she was very very good&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="mobile-photo"&gt;and when she was bad she was horrid! (see next picture)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SqqpNH4M6_I/AAAAAAAAAC0/1qrBzEeKPrU/s1600-h/%3D%3Futf-8%3FB%3FSU1HMDAzNTQtMjAwOTA4MjItMTY0MC5qcGc%3D%3F%3D-720706" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380298747765648370" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SqqpNH4M6_I/AAAAAAAAAC0/1qrBzEeKPrU/s320/%3D%3Futf-8%3FB%3FSU1HMDAzNTQtMjAwOTA4MjItMTY0MC5qcGc%3D%3F%3D-720706" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="mobile-photo"&gt;Actually, in this picture she is just making that face for the camera.&amp;nbsp; She likes to make the worst face possible when I take her picture.&amp;nbsp; It's awsome, NOT&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="mobile-photo"&gt;Does your grocery store have jungle gyms?&amp;nbsp; Ours does.&amp;nbsp; You pick one up right inside the door and push&amp;nbsp;them around with you the whole time you are in the store.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SqqpN5t13PI/AAAAAAAAAC8/DOpqTXlyBxQ/s1600-h/%3D%3Futf-8%3FB%3FSU1HMDAzNTEtMjAwOTA4MjItMTYzOC5qcGc%3D%3F%3D-723071" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380298761143966962" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SqqpN5t13PI/AAAAAAAAAC8/DOpqTXlyBxQ/s320/%3D%3Futf-8%3FB%3FSU1HMDAzNTEtMjAwOTA4MjItMTYzOC5qcGc%3D%3F%3D-723071" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="mobile-photo"&gt;Three kids can climb at once.&amp;nbsp; But they can also tip it over.&amp;nbsp; I spend most of my time at the store saying "Get off the cart."&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SqqpOivZfKI/AAAAAAAAADE/146w-C5M2rI/s1600-h/%3D%3Futf-8%3FB%3FSU1HMDAzNTgtMjAwOTA4MjItMTcwOC5qcGc%3D%3F%3D-725945" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380298772156349602" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SqqpOivZfKI/AAAAAAAAADE/146w-C5M2rI/s320/%3D%3Futf-8%3FB%3FSU1HMDAzNTgtMjAwOTA4MjItMTcwOC5qcGc%3D%3F%3D-725945" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;For some sick reason I actually like to take them to the store. (In theory anyway) After I get there I always wonder what I was thinking but I do it over and over again.&amp;nbsp; Every third or fourth time it even goes smoothly and we all leave happy and eating chocolate rewards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***This is not because Matt will not watch them and let his poor wife go to the grocery store.&amp;nbsp; I'm just nuts and voluntarily do this to myself all the time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-7955612938352273019?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/7955612938352273019/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/09/group-effort.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/7955612938352273019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/7955612938352273019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/09/group-effort.html' title='A Group Effort'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SqqpMnZO86I/AAAAAAAAACs/G6f0Qc9-icE/s72-c/%3D%3Futf-8%3FB%3FSU1HMDAzNTUtMjAwOTA4MjItMTY0MS5qcGc%3D%3F%3D-718347' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-2402989323244948507</id><published>2009-09-11T12:24:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-11T14:54:29.367-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='discipline'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Alivia'/><title type='text'>The Shuttle</title><content type='html'>I have a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;flexible&lt;/span&gt; job that allows me to drive my children to and from school. So on a normal weekday my schedule looks like this...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7am wake up, get everyone else up and get ready for school/babysitter/work&lt;br /&gt;8am leave house (sometimes this is 8:20am)&lt;br /&gt;8:10 drop Molly off at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;babysitters&lt;/span&gt; house&lt;br /&gt;8:30 drop &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Alivia&lt;/span&gt; and Marlin off at preschool&lt;br /&gt;8:45 get home start working&lt;br /&gt;11:15 leave house to pick up children from school&lt;br /&gt;11:30 pick up children&lt;br /&gt;Noon back at house, start working again&lt;br /&gt;5-5:15 Matt and children get home and work ends&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is actually only about 7 hours of work so I also have to work evenings for an average of 5 hours a week after the kids are in bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It sounds like a lot of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;interruptions&lt;/span&gt; and hassles but it is worth it. I consider myself very lucky to be working full time and still have the opportunity to touch base with my kids in the middle of the day. We skip from school back to the car, sometimes we sing songs on the way to the babysitters, sometimes I get stories about what happened at school. I love it. I love them and I feel a little less mom guilt because I can do these things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is all worth it...&lt;br /&gt;Except for days like today. Today I picked the kids up and as soon as we got in the van &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Alivia&lt;/span&gt; started demanding that I dump all the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Gatorades&lt;/span&gt; out of the box they come in so she can have a nest for her stuffed puppy for the ride. I didn't want 20 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Gatorade&lt;/span&gt; bottles rolling allover the van so I said no. She continued to fling attitude from the back seat the entire ride and her fit ended in her taking the cordless headphones and throwing them to the floor of the van as hard as she could. I told her that her behavior was unacceptable and I was taking her stuffed puppy away from her and she could have it back tomorrow morning IF she could straighten up and be nice for the rest of the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; ****TOTAL MELTDOWN***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...crying&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...begging&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and I turn into the babysitters driveway. Open the door, help the kids out (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Alivia&lt;/span&gt; still crying), take them into the house, apologize to the babysitter about the crying child and explain what the situation is and leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lovely, what the hell am I doing this for? Why did I bother? Did I really &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;interrupt&lt;/span&gt; my day to go make &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Alivia&lt;/span&gt; scream and cry? ugh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So on 9 out of 10 days the shuttling is totally worth the effort. Today was not one of those days.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-2402989323244948507?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/2402989323244948507/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/09/shuttle.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/2402989323244948507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/2402989323244948507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/09/shuttle.html' title='The Shuttle'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-1282621438634458638</id><published>2009-09-08T15:52:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-08T16:11:45.300-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='milestones'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Alivia'/><title type='text'>Sleepover!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/Sqa2YbEFqTI/AAAAAAAAAB8/5FMaZCZ0TGU/s1600-h/sleepover.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379187335638657330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/Sqa2YbEFqTI/AAAAAAAAAB8/5FMaZCZ0TGU/s320/sleepover.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span&gt;Here is my big girl Alivia with her best friend Elizabeth and her brother Gus.  ( don't know why this is highlighted but Im just going to continue)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span&gt;This is Alivia's first sleep over at Elizabeth's house.  Elizabeth spent the night at our house a few weeks ago for thier first official slumber party.  This picture is from the first night Alivia stayed with a friend at their house.  Look how big she is.  Smiling and hanging out.  She isn't going to see her mom for another 16 hours and she doesn't care at all.  The girls have matching night gowns that super mom Jane and Elizabeth made for thier sleepovers.  I guess Gus wasn't very happy to not have a night gown when the girls were putting their pj's on so he wore a purple nightie too.  I have a pic but I can't get it to load.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span&gt;Jane told me the day after the sleepover that Alivia was a perfect angel.  She used "please" and "thank you" and asked for things with sentences starting in "may I."  Im so proud of her for acting that way.  I knew she had it in her.  So what if I don't get that treatment at home.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span&gt;My good friend Julie who is a few years ahead of me on the motherhood ride once said "As long as they act like they are supposed to when they are away from you, that means you are doing a good job, because they know how they are SUPPOSED to act."  So Im going to go with that one. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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/892698573936897166-1282621438634458638?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/1282621438634458638/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/09/sleepover.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/1282621438634458638'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/1282621438634458638'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/09/sleepover.html' title='Sleepover!'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/Sqa2YbEFqTI/AAAAAAAAAB8/5FMaZCZ0TGU/s72-c/sleepover.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-3303411319813980282</id><published>2009-09-08T15:27:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-08T15:40:33.447-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Outings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marlin'/><title type='text'>LOST</title><content type='html'>We were at a birthday party this weekend and I lost Marlin!  It was awful.  Way worse than when I lost him at the Children's museum.  At the museum I could block off the exit and work from there.  At the party, (we were at a park) I didn't even know which way he went.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were at a playground at the top of a hill.  At the bottom of the hill are several other playgrounds and the shelters where the birthday party was being held.  The kids and I headed straight to the playground to run around a little before the cake and present activities began. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Alivia&lt;/span&gt; and Marlin ran onto the equipment and Molly and I headed to a slide so I could let her do some sliding and giggling.  When I looked up I found &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Alivia&lt;/span&gt; but I couldn't find Marlin.  I looked around and still &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;couldn't&lt;/span&gt; find him.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Alivia&lt;/span&gt; started searching with me. We looked down from the top of the hill at all the other little playgrounds.  Had he wondered down to one of them?  Had he gone back to the shelter?  The little voice in my head started saying "Stay calm, fix the problem, stay calm and fix the problem"  I asked several adults if they had seen a little boy in blue plaid shorts and a blue shirt.  No one had seen him.  The voices in my head began to argue "OH MY GOD HE IS MISSING!"&lt;br /&gt;"Stay calm, you will find him!"&lt;br /&gt;"How could I have lost him!"&lt;br /&gt;"Stay calm, he can't have gone to far"&lt;br /&gt;"I don't even know what direction he went!"&lt;br /&gt;"stay calm, he is probably back at the shelter."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a friends husband watch &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Alivia&lt;/span&gt; at the playground so I could go check the shelter.  I went down the hill and started to cross the big grassy area when I looked to my left and saw a lady holding Marlin's hand and walking toward me.  She was waving and pointing at Marlin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With Molly on my hip I ran over and hugged my little missing man.  He was sobbing.  The sweet lady said that he had described me to a tee and she even knew my name was Angie.  Thank GOD for kind hearted people who watch over children when they are lost. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the panic settled and the tears from the reunion were gone the self abuse started. &lt;br /&gt;How could I have been so careless.  How do you lose a 3 year old?  Don't you know you have to watch him?  What kind of parent are you?  Oh the guilt.  Its bad enough to lose a child for 5 minutes there is really  no reason for the abuse afterward but I can't avoid it.  The mom guilt hits &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;whether&lt;/span&gt; you believe it or not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was one of the longest 5 to 10 minutes of my life, my heart goes out to people who truly lose their children and do not get them back.  I can't even imagine...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-3303411319813980282?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/3303411319813980282/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/09/lost.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/3303411319813980282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/3303411319813980282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/09/lost.html' title='LOST'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-6862189578424608224</id><published>2009-08-17T10:16:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-08T15:49:40.693-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='molly'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Alivia'/><title type='text'>Being a girl</title><content type='html'>Being a girl is so hard. I wish there was a way to give my daughters the knowledge I have now so I could save them from the next 25 years of figuring out that they are wonderful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It starts so early these days, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Alivia&lt;/span&gt; wishes she was a barbie. She also plans to die her hair &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;blond&lt;/span&gt; so she can look like Hannah Montana. She doesn't watch Hannah Montana and she just got her first Barbie last week. It doesn't matter if you try to protect them. They still grow up in a world obsessed with skinny, unrealistic perfection where girls stare in mirrors and hate their flaws.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do you teach your daughter that flaws are not flaws? They are part of her beauty. They make her who she is and that is amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I already see &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Alivia&lt;/span&gt; worry about what people think, worry about what she looks like and stressing out over outfits and hair.  I'm not sure where all of it comes from but I need her to know how perfect she is in every moment of the day no matter what wardrobe decisions she makes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I think back to junior high and high school, I cringe thinking that my girls will have to go &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;through&lt;/span&gt; the insecurity and self loathing that is part of growing up.  I hope that they learn more quickly than I did how cool they really are.  I hope they learn to step into &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;their&lt;/span&gt; skin and be proud of who they are.  Life gets so much easier when you finally embrace that...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-6862189578424608224?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/6862189578424608224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/08/being-girl.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/6862189578424608224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/6862189578424608224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/08/being-girl.html' title='Being a girl'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-5542002322091411710</id><published>2009-08-14T12:35:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-14T13:08:43.599-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='conversations'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Alivia'/><title type='text'>Death</title><content type='html'>Death is a tough topic.  I think most parents choose to avoid it as long as possible.  My ever-so-inquisitive daughter has not let me escape from this topic.  She is trying to figure everything out and hits me with questions on a regular basis.  Here is one of our conversations...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A: Mom, am I going to die?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:  Not for a long time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A:  But I am going to die?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Yes, but you don't have to worry about that because it won't be for a very long time.  When you are old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A:  You are old, are you going to die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:  Not for a long time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A:  When I die, I don't want to go to heaven.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:  Of course you do sweetie&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A: No, I don't&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: but I've heard heaven is wonderful and you will get to see all the people you love that have gone there already and God will be there and you will be very happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A:  (Starting to get upset) I DO NOT WANT TO GO TO HEAVEN WHEN I DIE!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:  OK, what DO you want to do when you die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A:  I want to lie on the couch and eat crackers and drink juice.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-5542002322091411710?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/5542002322091411710/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/08/death.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/5542002322091411710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/5542002322091411710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/08/death.html' title='Death'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-7267266313578379821</id><published>2009-08-12T09:11:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-12T09:20:36.813-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='milestones'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marlin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Alivia'/><title type='text'>First Day of School</title><content type='html'>We woke up early today and got ready for the first day of preschool for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Alivia&lt;/span&gt; and Marlin. Yesterday we all went to the orientation and looked around and visited with the teachers but today was the first real day.&lt;br /&gt;Marlin has been so excited he hasn't been sleeping but this morning he announced that he didn't want to go. He said "I don't know how to do school." I know mild apprehension is very normal and I assured him that he would learn what he needed to know. It was very nice knowing that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Alivia&lt;/span&gt; would be there to show him the ropes and help him feel comfortable the first few days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I put tortured the kids with pictures in front of the Magnolia tree. First I needed pics of both of them facing me, then turning sideways so I could get their backpacks in the pic. Then pics of them by themselves. Then we added Molly to the pics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then it was time to go. We pulled up in front of the school. I went around the side to let them out. Found Marlin's backpack, put it on him and hiked up his pants that were already falling down. I help &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Alivia&lt;/span&gt; out of the van and got her backpack on too. Then they held my hands and we made the long walk down the sidewalk to the door of the school. I was so nervous for my little kids. I want them to have fun, to be nice, to make friends and to be happy. I have done all I can for today and now I have to turn them loose. They didn't even hesitate. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Alivia&lt;/span&gt; knows the ropes and Marlin followed her right in the door. I watched them through the glass door as they talked to the teacher and she pointed to the stairs. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Alivia&lt;/span&gt; took Marlins hand and led him down the stairs to the classroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Im so happy that they have eachother today.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I'll add the report from them later&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-7267266313578379821?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/7267266313578379821/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/08/first-day-of-school.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/7267266313578379821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/7267266313578379821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/08/first-day-of-school.html' title='First Day of School'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-5758130177495263939</id><published>2009-08-11T14:03:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T14:15:18.887-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birthdays'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marlin'/><title type='text'>Because I missed Marlin's birthday post...</title><content type='html'>Happy belated birthday Marlin! &lt;br /&gt;Well, its a little late but I didn't forget your birthday in real life, I just forgot to blog about it.  So here it goes, better late than never.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are three years old now!  I can believe my sweet, sweet boy is three.  You lost your baby face this year and now look like a little boy. &lt;br /&gt;Some of the big things you did this year include:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Potty training - You did it yourself.  You told us you wanted to wear your &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Thomas&lt;/span&gt; the train undies about 2 weeks after Molly was born and that was it, very few accidents.  Then about 7 months later you decided you no longer could be bothered with taking time to use the toilet so you had accidents several times a day from April to August.  You drove us crazy.  We even took you to the &lt;span style="BACKGROUND-COLOR: #ffff00"&gt;doctor&lt;/span&gt; about it.  One week before preschool started you decided it was important again and you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;haven't&lt;/span&gt; had an accident since. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The terrible twos... - You tried to test us a little this year.  But I will NEVER say you had the TERRIBLE &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Twos&lt;/span&gt;.  You are way too sweet to be terrible.  Even when you are trying to be rotten it is so cute your dad and I often have to turn our heads so you can't see us smiling or laughing at you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You went to art class with a bunch of kids that were older than you and the teacher told us you were an angel.  You love to sit and work on projects and have amazing focus for a little boy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are smart and silly and funny and sweet.  oh yeah and cute as a button.  You have the ability to work me like no one else.  As a matter of fact you are home with me today while I am working because you used those big puppy dog eyes on me this morning when I tried to drop you off at the babysitter and I picked you up and brought you right back home. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope you are always so cuddly and sweet.  I have also seen you learn to climb, run, play and talk much more clearly.  You can talk and talk and talk and talk and talk.  I love to hear what you have to say.  I hope your sweet sweet heart stays that way forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for being my only son and my middle child.  (I'll try not to forget your birthday post next year)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love&lt;br /&gt;mom&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-5758130177495263939?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/5758130177495263939/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/08/because-i-missed-marlins-birthday-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/5758130177495263939'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/5758130177495263939'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/08/because-i-missed-marlins-birthday-post.html' title='Because I missed Marlin&apos;s birthday post...'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-2584869117028136359</id><published>2009-08-11T11:19:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T11:32:21.039-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birthdays'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Alivia'/><title type='text'>Happy Birthday Alivia</title><content type='html'>YOU CAN NOT BE 5!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems like I just brought you home from the hospital.  I can remember so clearly the first time we were alone at home and I took my first 600 pictures of your amazing little face. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now you are five years old.  You are starting your second year of preschool and you are really growing up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw you lead your little brother into the school this morning for the orientation.  You were such an upperclassman.  You showed him the ropes and were brave and kind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year you still love princesses and I do not look forward to you getting too big or too cool for them.  You also love Barbie and we let you get a few this year for your birthday.&lt;br /&gt;You are starting to read words and your sharp mind continues to amaze me.  You are so quick you even keep me &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;hoppin&lt;/span&gt; quite often. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am really enjoying you as a 5 year old because you pick up on so much about the world.  I am watching your personality blossom and learning who you are and who you will be.  So far you are smart, beautiful, great in an emergency (unfortunately we have seen that a few times this year), you are caring, you are responsible and your ability to know how people feel is a gift.  You have always had that gift but it is growing and your pick up on things that even I do not see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you more every day.  Thanks for being my first child, my oldest daughter and most of all for being you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love&lt;br /&gt;Mom&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-2584869117028136359?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/2584869117028136359/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/08/happy-birthday-alivia.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/2584869117028136359'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/2584869117028136359'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/08/happy-birthday-alivia.html' title='Happy Birthday Alivia'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-667359081866610881</id><published>2009-08-03T11:34:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-07T13:38:07.087-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='milestones'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birthdays'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='molly'/><title type='text'>Bye Bye Baby</title><content type='html'>Molly Moo is ONE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe it. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; sure I can not explain what that child's short life has done for me. She has given me the best year of my life and the worst year of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During this past year...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She has learned to roll, sit, crawl, walk, eat and play.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have learned many lessons about how precious every smile and every moment truly is. Her spirit, her personality, her happiness and her strength is unlike anything I have ever known.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She has learned to understand the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;English&lt;/span&gt; language and to "get her brother and sisters" and to hold her own bottle and to love kitty cats.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've spent some time in a constant state of prayer, a constant state of shock, a constant state of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;thankfulness&lt;/span&gt;, constant state of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;exhaustion&lt;/span&gt;, a constant state of fear, a constant state of bravery, a constant state of helplessness and a constant state of happiness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;She&lt;/span&gt; has learned to SLEEP THROUGH THE NIGHT!!! (yeah molly it only took 11.99 months, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; sure that didn't have anything to do with your mother's inability to discipline you or let you cry)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Add her undeniable cuteness and she is a lethal weapon. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; still not sure I will ever be able to say no to that kid. Unless she eats glass or attempts to dive head first off the porch steps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not everything Molly did this year was learned. She came into this world knowing several things instinctively. From the moment we met her she knew how to let us know when she wanted something, she knew how to be loud (no idea where she gets that), she knew how to love and she knew how to be my third child my little spunky baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her screams are either very good or very bad. There is no middle ground when it comes to this girl. Her &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;squeals&lt;/span&gt; of delight are fantastic. They &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;pierce&lt;/span&gt; your eardrums. It is the greatest noise in the entire world. (Well its a tie with the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;squeals&lt;/span&gt; and the laughter) Her cries are every bit as intense. Her first day at the babysitter I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;received&lt;/span&gt; a phone call and rushed over to feed my starving baby. She was fine by the time I got there but the babysitter said "I just didn't expect her to cry so HARD."&lt;br /&gt;She developed a reputation among the nurses at the hospital as a little spitfire at 4 months old. We were asked several times if she was a red head. The strength in that tiny human has amazed me hundreds of times in this crazy roller coaster of a year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So thank you Molly Moo for teaching me to love more than I thought possible, to appreciate a world I didn't even know existed and for keeping us all smiling everyday. May you always be as happy as you are today. Happy Birthday&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-667359081866610881?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/667359081866610881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/08/bye-bye-baby.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/667359081866610881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/667359081866610881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/08/bye-bye-baby.html' title='Bye Bye Baby'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-8185937900505357773</id><published>2009-07-23T11:22:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-07T13:04:04.276-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Supermom'/><title type='text'>Aiming Low</title><content type='html'>When I saw a new &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;blog site&lt;/span&gt; called Aiming Low, I felt like I had come home. That's what I do! I am a professional er...low aimer.  I can list five instances from last night where aiming low was my method of survival.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  When I got home from work last night, my kids were covered in mud. They had been playing outside and were as happy as three little hogs in the sunshine, or mud hole or whatever makes little hogs happy. Molly's little tan pants that she was wearing were completely covered in mud. (Sorry, sister in law, those pants are not &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;coming&lt;/span&gt; back down the pass down lane) I looked at her and at Matt and at the other happy children and said "you guys sure are having fun outside...Awesome." Then I went indoors to find the bottle opener and the wine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  When I was putting pj's on the kids last night Matt pointed out that one of "my children" had carved some drawings in the wall with a pen. Not drawn...carved. I went over to look at it and said, "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;That's&lt;/span&gt; a very good A. At least she didn't write it upside down."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  My oldest daughter told me she hated the new reading books I just bought her. She loved them for 5 days and then two nights ago, she "hated" them. I put them up and last night when she was looking for them I told her I threw them away. She started getting pretty upset and I reminded her that she told me she hated them so I didn't think she wanted them anymore. After about 30 seconds of sadness and torture I gave her the books back. Does that count as aiming low...or just a low blow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  My youngest daughter will be one on Monday. She takes medication for her heart three times a day. When I was first started this I freaked out because I can't even manage to take one birth control pill a day.  How was I ever going to get three doses of heart medication into my young child, at regularly scheduled times throughout each and every day of my life? Without another option, I have become very good at this routine. Sometimes she takes the medication happily, acting like it is a special treat. Other times she absolutely refuses and I have to hold her little head and put the medicine into her mouth while she screams and protests. (not my favorite method) &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Anyhoo...&lt;/span&gt; last night she was taking the medicine pretty well. We were on the floor reading books and I left the medicine in her line of sight. When she saw it she reached for it and I squirted it into her mouth. It takes about 4 squirts to get the whole dose so I was being patient and taking it slowly so I could avoid the clamped head method. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Right&lt;/span&gt; after one of the squirts some liquid landed on my arm. I thought to myself, is that medicine or drool, and then I licked it to check. It was drool, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;that's&lt;/span&gt; great, wouldn't want her to not get her whole dose of medicine. Then it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;occurred&lt;/span&gt; to me...my standards for have hit an all time low.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm, that's only four examples...guess I should have aimed lower.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-8185937900505357773?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/8185937900505357773/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/07/aiming-low.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/8185937900505357773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/8185937900505357773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/07/aiming-low.html' title='Aiming Low'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-1772469773493515699</id><published>2009-07-16T12:27:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-16T13:40:19.265-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='discipline'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Supermom'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marlin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Alivia'/><title type='text'>MINE</title><content type='html'>Last night I was tucking Marlin into his bed and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Alivia&lt;/span&gt; came in and announced that the glow worm that he had was hers.  They argued and I showed her that it was indeed his and made her give it back to him.  We couldn't find &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Alivia's&lt;/span&gt; glow worm anywhere.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; pretty sure dreams of glow worm envy danced in her head all night because this morning...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went upstairs with Molly to find clothes for her and when I came back down the stairs Marlin was screaming and chasing &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Alivia&lt;/span&gt;.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Alivia&lt;/span&gt; was running around the house with Marlin's glow worm in her arm.  She was holding it as high as possible in case Marlin actually caught up with her to ensure he wouldn't be able to reach it.  She jumped up on the chair, he got close, then she jumped down and ran to the couch, Marlin go close again and off she went.  It was a two person game of keep away and my sweet Marlin was losing miserably so I stepped in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"STOP! give me the glow worm."  She hands it to me and prepares to be sent to the corner as usual for her time out (well worth the pleasure of 1.5 minutes torturing her younger brother)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; "Here Marlin" I handed him the glow worm.  Then I turned to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Alivia&lt;/span&gt; "and you go to the..."  I could see in her face that she was ready, it didn't matter and she would do it again.  The time out was not going to be sufficient.  So instead, I turned to Marlin, "here is what we are going to do."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Alivia&lt;/span&gt; came over to check out what my next move would be.  "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Alivia&lt;/span&gt;, I am tired of you taking Marlin's things from him so he is going to pick one of your toys from your room and he gets to keep it for two days."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I led Marlin into &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Alivia's&lt;/span&gt; room and it took him .00007 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;nano&lt;/span&gt; seconds to make a beeline for her stuffed horse that has a pink purse it fits into with a saddle, a bridle and a brush.  He picked it up and I led him into his room and said "you get to keep the horse until tomorrow."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Alivia&lt;/span&gt; screamed, she jumped up and down, it was unbearable (and perfect) that Marlin could have her horse.  She made several attempts to go into his room to reclaim her possession in her fit of rage but I didn't let her.  There is a door between their bedroom and I saw her start to sneak through there and I went in the other door saying "you are going to be in big trouble!"  She backed away.  I looked at Marlin.  He was sitting on his bed with the horse out of the purse slowly combing its long mane with a tiny little grin on his sweet little face.  It was priceless. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the rage passed the bargaining began.  "I won't take Marlins things any more."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I responded, "Great, you can have your horse back tomorrow."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Aliva&lt;/span&gt;: "Please can I have it back now."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told her that this was a lesson she had to learn because it didn't feel good when people take your things.  She finally calmed down and went into her room to get dressed. (because this is all happening before 8am...the things I do before my first cup of coffee)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I heard her sincerely tell Marlin that she was sorry.  Then Marlin said "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Wivia&lt;/span&gt;, here is your horse."  I heard him give it back to her piece by piece and then he said "I sorry I took your horse &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;Wivia&lt;/span&gt;"   (insert: &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh my gosh! Can that get any sweeter?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-1772469773493515699?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/1772469773493515699/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/07/mine.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/1772469773493515699'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/1772469773493515699'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/07/mine.html' title='MINE'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-1581520976289567728</id><published>2009-07-14T15:34:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-08T15:42:57.686-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='milestones'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='molly'/><title type='text'>SLOW DOWN!</title><content type='html'>This week Molly had her first pony tail, first steps, four more teeth and a couple words.  Please slow down baby... I can't take it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-1581520976289567728?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/1581520976289567728/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/07/slow-down.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/1581520976289567728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/1581520976289567728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/07/slow-down.html' title='SLOW DOWN!'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-2702809460938471516</id><published>2009-07-14T15:33:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-08T15:26:01.452-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Outings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marlin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='molly'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Alivia'/><title type='text'>childrens museum</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SlzkEl9iPuI/AAAAAAAAABk/PR_taoUjzRc/s1600-h/IMG00302-20090711-1553.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358408424224866018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SlzkEl9iPuI/AAAAAAAAABk/PR_taoUjzRc/s320/IMG00302-20090711-1553.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See that wagon full of ANGELS?  This is from the day we went to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;children's&lt;/span&gt; museum this summer.  They are eating cookies that I bought them on our way out of the museum because they were soooo good all day.   We were supposed to go to the zoo but the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;lightening&lt;/span&gt; on our way to the big city changed our minds.  We have been there before.  We play and look at things until someone melts down and then we go home.  I kept waiting for the meltdown.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were with a huge group of friends and family.  Brad and Lauren and Audrey were among the crowd.  We checked out the dinosaurs, dug for bones, tried on dinosaur costumes.  We drew pictures of dragons.  We explored an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Egyptian&lt;/span&gt; tomb and when we came out of the tomb &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Alivia&lt;/span&gt; saw a map of Africa and said "look it it is the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Continent&lt;/span&gt; Africa!"  (go preschool!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We touched and played in every room at the museum.  I kept waiting for the meltdown but they just kept being awesome little explorers. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was an incident in the Egypt room where we lost Marlin for about 5 minutes.  I blocked off the exit and systematically found him but it was a terrible experience and I was seconds away from a complete meltdown when I finally found him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Molly fell asleep sitting upright in the wagon drinking a bottle.  If my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Internet&lt;/span&gt; connection wasn't so slow I would post more pics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I kept pulling the wagon up and down the ramps.  Going from room to room.  I was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;soooo&lt;/span&gt; tired, and still waiting for that meltdown where I could blame our exit on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;their&lt;/span&gt; tiredness.  It never happened.  Every room they played until they looked at me and said "lets find another room." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was so proud of my little angels today.  We stayed longer than everyone else and we had a great day.  It sure is fun when it works out like that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-2702809460938471516?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/2702809460938471516/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/07/childrens-museum.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/2702809460938471516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/2702809460938471516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/07/childrens-museum.html' title='childrens museum'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SlzkEl9iPuI/AAAAAAAAABk/PR_taoUjzRc/s72-c/IMG00302-20090711-1553.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-8806147980060303083</id><published>2009-07-14T12:50:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-14T14:32:33.555-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Alivia'/><title type='text'>Alivia</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SlzOKoo1NSI/AAAAAAAAABc/BwhQG58MCYY/s1600-h/IMG00242-20090509-1512.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358384338766738722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SlzOKoo1NSI/AAAAAAAAABc/BwhQG58MCYY/s320/IMG00242-20090509-1512.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;A few fun things &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Alivia&lt;/span&gt; has been up to lately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were in the minivan last week and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Alivia&lt;/span&gt; announced, "I have goose bites." It took me a minute but then she said that she was cold and the goose bites were all over and I finally figured it out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We also had the first corn on the cob of the summer last night and when &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Alivia&lt;/span&gt; saw the corn she said "Yummy! Corn on the bone!."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At a quarter til bedtime last night &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Alivia&lt;/span&gt; was working &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;diligently&lt;/span&gt; in one of her preschool workbooks. She was filling in missing letters in words. She would look at the picture above the word (ex: hat) say it and then listen to the sounds and figure out what letter needed added to the word. She has been working on sounds for a while and can tell you what a word starts with but what impressed me was her intensity. She was really working. She was also putting in missing letters &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;in the&lt;/span&gt; middle of works like fr_g! She was a sponge on overdrive and she was even open to a little help from mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mentioned that Mrs. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Campanelli&lt;/span&gt; (her preschool teacher) wanted her to learn the word "the" because it is in books a lot and it will help her read. She was all for it. She got out her writing tablet and started writing it over and over again. Then I handed her "The Cat in the Hat" and she read the cover of the book. Well she sounded out the first ones but she kept saying the cat in the HOUSE! She sat at her little table for over an hour (and way past bedtime but there was no way I was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;interrupting&lt;/span&gt;) writing words from the cat in the hat on her writing tablet, working in her workbook and really studying. She had so many materials piled up around her she looked like she was cramming for an organic chemistry exam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;sooooooo&lt;/span&gt; close to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;figuring&lt;/span&gt; out how to sound out words and read simple books. She wants it and it wont be long. I am just impressed at the focus and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;determination&lt;/span&gt; that she had. It's amazing to see their brains click and move in fast forward learning things at a rapid speed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-8806147980060303083?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/8806147980060303083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/07/alivia.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/8806147980060303083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/8806147980060303083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/07/alivia.html' title='Alivia'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SlzOKoo1NSI/AAAAAAAAABc/BwhQG58MCYY/s72-c/IMG00242-20090509-1512.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-3271736513547795018</id><published>2009-07-09T09:27:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-09T13:49:27.858-04:00</updated><title type='text'>NERF</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SlYn_ro29jI/AAAAAAAAABU/n7fRVRjcxHg/s1600-h/IMG00283-20090709-0906.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356512781803124274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SlYn_ro29jI/AAAAAAAAABU/n7fRVRjcxHg/s320/IMG00283-20090709-0906.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Up until Molly was 11 month old she had three teeth in the bottom of her mouth. About two weeks ago she cut four top teeth all at once. Needless to say she has been a little crabby and is no longer sleeping well. The biggest difference is that she has been biting things. She bites me. She bites toys. She loves to bite Marlins nerf football. If I don't keep it out of her reach, I find her chewing away on a piece of nerf...yuck!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&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/892698573936897166-3271736513547795018?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/3271736513547795018/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/07/nerf.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/3271736513547795018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/3271736513547795018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/07/nerf.html' title='NERF'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SlYn_ro29jI/AAAAAAAAABU/n7fRVRjcxHg/s72-c/IMG00283-20090709-0906.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-6682701177291101673</id><published>2009-06-24T21:09:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T14:02:29.863-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='discipline'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Alivia'/><title type='text'>Kiss the Corner</title><content type='html'>Before I was a parent I knew exactly how to raise a child. "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Consistency&lt;/span&gt; is the key," I said many times as I looked down my nose at various mothers letting their kids get away with murder because they were too busy to be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;consistent&lt;/span&gt;. Then I had &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Alivia&lt;/span&gt; Rose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Alivia&lt;/span&gt; is so sharp and so quick, she always has me hopping. She forces me into corners where I must decide if she has crossed the line with her most recent action or if that is not worth giving her a time out. Sometimes it is barely unacceptable and I don't want to make her take a 4 minute time out. So we have a punishment that is like a mini time out. It is called "kiss the corner." When her attitude is pushing the boarder of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;inappropriate&lt;/span&gt; I say "kiss the corner" and she has to go to kiss the corner where she does her time outs and then she can come back. As long as she does it without any fight or yelling and she comes back with a good attitude then that is all she has to do. It is a nice way to easily and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;quickly adjust&lt;/span&gt; her attitude.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-6682701177291101673?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/6682701177291101673/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/06/kiss-corner.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/6682701177291101673'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/6682701177291101673'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/06/kiss-corner.html' title='Kiss the Corner'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-949641865869803165</id><published>2009-06-17T14:14:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-17T14:32:07.090-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marlin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='conversations'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='molly'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Alivia'/><title type='text'>Our morning routine</title><content type='html'>In one morning, these are the things that come out of my mouth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Good morning sunshine, time to get up.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;What do you want for breakfast? We have cheerios and oatmeal.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Oatmeal?  ok.  Changed your mind?  Ok cheerios.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Here is your cereal.  Its the same as his cereal. Your spoons are the same too.  It doesn't matter which one you get.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Don't touch the baby's medicine.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Eat your food. Alivia get back in your chair, Marlin get your hand out of your cereal.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Where is Molly?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Molly are you hungry?  &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Molly, are you done, you want down?  Come here baby.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Marlin, lets get dressed.  Here you go. Put these on.  Good job.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Alivia, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;Are you done?  Go get dressed.  &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;You want me to help you pick out your clothes?  ok&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;How about this, ok.  How about this. ok. How about this? ok. How about this?  Are you going to say no to everything I pick out?  What do YOU want to wear?  Ok thats great!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Why aren't your clothes on?  &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Please put your clothes on?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;What are you doing in the bathroom on the counter looking in the mirror and why haven't you put your clothes on yet?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Marlin, I already dressed YOU once.  Where did your clothes go?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Brush your teeth.  You don't need your Diego toothpaste, you just put on whinnie the Pooh toothpaste.  Open your mouth.  Open. open. open. open. open.  OOOOH I saw a polar bear in your mouth let me get it with this toothbrush.  Ok got him, we are good.  &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Alivia's turn.  (repeat toothbrushing conversation)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Marlin, you can not poop standing up.  &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;its time to go.  Get your clothes on.  Put your shoes on.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Get into the car.  No, you cant sit in that seat you have to sit in your seat.  Its not too tight.  Stop touching the baby.  Give the bottle back to the baby.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;You have to pee again?  You just peed!  Pee in the grass, we aren't going back in the house.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Back in the car.  No you can't take your blanket.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;We are here. Everyone out of the car. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Why did you take your shoes off?  Put them back on. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Where is the baby's bottle?  Why did you throw it into the back of the car?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;See you guys later, have a good day, I love ya, be GOOD&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is before 8am.  I used to do less in a week!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-949641865869803165?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/949641865869803165/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/06/our-morning-routine.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/949641865869803165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/949641865869803165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/06/our-morning-routine.html' title='Our morning routine'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-3049687570040176794</id><published>2009-06-15T15:52:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-15T15:56:09.404-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='milestones'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='molly'/><title type='text'>mooey</title><content type='html'>I have been calling Molly, Molly moo for a while now and Marlin has turned that into Mooey.  So Mooey it is for a while.  Little mooey is a fast little crawler.  She zipps from room to room getting into everything.  She can also stand unassisted for quite some time.  She has taken a few steps on her own too.  I thought she was going to walk a few weeks ago because she kept letting go of things and trying to walk.  She isn't quite ready yet.  She doesnt have the balance but don't tell her that.  That kid thinks she is 10 feet tall and can run!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She also loves to be in the middle of the action.  We were at a friends house this weekend and the kids were jumping on the trampeline.  Everytime I let go of Molly she crawled right to the middle where her siblings were bouncing.  She was bounced out of control and she giggled loudly.  ...little thrill seeker&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-3049687570040176794?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/3049687570040176794/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/06/mooey.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/3049687570040176794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/3049687570040176794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/06/mooey.html' title='mooey'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-2554740564469970867</id><published>2009-06-15T14:41:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-15T14:53:56.884-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marlin'/><title type='text'>Marlin the bull</title><content type='html'>So when I learned that I was having a child around the same time as my birthday three years ago, it did occur to me that another taurus in the house could be trouble, especially in the stubborness category.  I shrugged off my concern and have done nothing but brag about my sweet boy's even wonderful temperment for the past three years.  I am noticing that Marlin is entering a new phase in his life, a phase of testing and stubborness.  He doesnt throw tantrums or turn into a whiny unbearable mess like his sister did at his age.  His phase is "all marlin" and its possible the stubborness nightmares are about to begin.&lt;br /&gt;Here are a couple brief examples:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day we were in the car and Molly was fussing.  I asked if she had her bottle and Marlin said, "no, wait (giving her the bottle) Now her do."&lt;br /&gt;I said "Now she does"&lt;br /&gt;and Marlin replied "THATS WHAT I SAID!"&lt;br /&gt;He doesnt take grammer correction very well these days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I was in his room, on the floor. I had his pj's off of him and his clothes for the day in my hand.  He said he was thirsty.  I told him that as soon as we got his clothes on I would get him a drink.  He squirmed and fought and cried and fussed while I literally pinned him down and "force dressed" him.  I went to my room to breathe a little so I wouldn't yell at him and my plan was to get him a drink next.  As I recovered I turned to the bedroom door to go find my sweet boy and get him a drink.  Standing at the door was marlin, completely naked.  He had taken ALL his clothes off and come over to stand where I could see him.  What a little stinker!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-2554740564469970867?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/2554740564469970867/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/06/marlin-bull.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/2554740564469970867'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/2554740564469970867'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/06/marlin-bull.html' title='Marlin the bull'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-7574970139996835360</id><published>2009-04-23T13:15:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-23T13:20:18.522-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='doctor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='molly'/><title type='text'>EYE Can't SEE!</title><content type='html'>Yesterday my boss asked if everyone was well at my house.  She also has three tiny children and understands that someone is ALWAYS sick.  I hesitated to even answer but said yes, we are all well.  Then I got to thinking, we haven't even been to the doctor one time this week...that is a major accomplishment.  Well, little Molly moo fixed that!  She poked me in the eye last night when I was trying to get her to sleep.  I guess she wasn't tired.  Of course it was completely unintentional but the little fingernail must have done some damage because I am struggling.  I can't read without my eye hurting and watering up.  I couldn't sleep last night because when I lay down it hurts more.  So, I am off to the doctor to see what they have to say.  If I have to wear a patch I am not going to be happy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-7574970139996835360?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/7574970139996835360/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/04/eye-cant-see.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/7574970139996835360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/7574970139996835360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/04/eye-cant-see.html' title='EYE Can&apos;t SEE!'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-8677379024220922518</id><published>2009-04-14T11:26:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-14T11:40:35.382-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='perspective'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='doctor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marlin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='molly'/><title type='text'>Large purchases</title><content type='html'>I LOVE to buy diapers and formula in bulk. It is sometimes on the edge of being out of control. I bought five packs of diapers yesterday and as I loaded them into the car I just smiled. I think my baby will be around long enough to burn through all these diapers. Instead of complaining about how many diapers I have to buy and how much they cost, I celebrate. I shine with the knowledge that my daughter is going to live, she is going to live long enough that she will cost me tons and tons of money. Thats ok as long as I have her around. Just one more perspective that has come from Molly's heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another note, I had to take her to the dr this morning for her monthly RSV shot. Marlin came with me. I told him he could get some hot chocolate as a special treat when I drove through the coffee shop. For the rest of the drive I heard this:&lt;br /&gt;"I am going to get hum(some) hot chocolate." (repeat 600 times) He has such a sweet two year old voice. People are always saying "awwwww" when Marlin talks. He is such a sweet boy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-8677379024220922518?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/8677379024220922518/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/04/large-purchases.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/8677379024220922518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/8677379024220922518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/04/large-purchases.html' title='Large purchases'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-2621539523559099062</id><published>2009-04-13T11:59:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-13T12:04:29.908-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='milestones'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='molly'/><title type='text'>On the Moooove with Molly moo</title><content type='html'>Friday Molly inched her way across the floor a couple times, Saturday she did it a few more times and by  Sunday Molly was crawling all over the house.  She is still a little slow but she gets faster every day.  At 8 months old she is my youngest crawler.  I wont be suprised if she walks in a month. &lt;br /&gt; Molly doesn't do anything calmly.  She frantically plays with her bucket, she frantically crawls toward something, she frantically works to pick up pieces of banana and eat them.  What a determined little person she is.  I already admire this tough little person so much.  I look forward to watching my intense baby girl get bigger and use this intensity to master many life skills.  I also am a little worried about the little spitfire turning on her mother and using her powers for not so wonderful things like fits.  Oh, no way will she do that TO ME!!!  I love her regardless and am enjoying watching her grow, change and start to show us what her personality will be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-2621539523559099062?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/2621539523559099062/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/04/on-moooove-with-molly-moo.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/2621539523559099062'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/2621539523559099062'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/04/on-moooove-with-molly-moo.html' title='On the Moooove with Molly moo'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-5752357187800314503</id><published>2009-04-10T09:42:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-10T09:50:00.209-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='molly'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Alivia'/><title type='text'>Little Mommy</title><content type='html'>I am careful not to force Alivia to care for Molly when she doesn't want to.  She is pretty good at it though and lately she has been giving me advice.  Molly was fussy yesterday and I was trying to feed her a bottle.  Alivia came over and asked if she could do it.  I let her try but Molly didn't really want the bottle in her mouth so it didn't work.  That is when I got my instructions.&lt;br /&gt;  Alivia said "Well she doesn't want the bottle right now, but if she starts to fuss again try to put the bottle in her mouth because that will make her happy, ok?" &lt;br /&gt;Then she left the room.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What would I do without her?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She also picks her up and brings her to me whenever she cries.  Its really a scary scene to watch Alivia carry Molly.  Molly is not that small and I am so afraid Alivia will drop her some day.  Lets hope Molly survives the love of her older sister.  They do love eachother sooooo much.  Molly giggles and giggles at both big kids.  And Alivia (and Marlin) loves Molly to death.  A couple days ago Alivia told my mom she couldn't wait for Molly to get bigger so she can play princesses with her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Molly is going to crawl any day.  She is 8 months old and she is rocking on all fours.  She moves backwards but it just makes her mad.  She moved forward a little this morning.  She is soooo close.  She is also singing.  Not to the point that anyone other than her mother would call it singing but when I sing a song to her the noises comming out of her mouth change to her "singing" noise.  I love it.  I know you can sing Molly, everyone else will see the light eventually:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-5752357187800314503?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/5752357187800314503/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/04/little-mommy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/5752357187800314503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/5752357187800314503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/04/little-mommy.html' title='Little Mommy'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-5353423882950958102</id><published>2009-04-09T14:15:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-10T09:40:18.986-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Supermom'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marlin'/><title type='text'>lellow</title><content type='html'>Marlin says "lellow" instead of yellow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is how our conversation went last night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Marlin: I want the lellow crayon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: say yellow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Marlin: lellow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: say Yep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Marlin: yep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: say yeah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Marlin: yeah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: say yellow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Marlin: (singing) lellow lellow lellow lellow lellow lellow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ok I get it, he isn't interested in improving that word. Maybe later. Actually Marlin's speech improves every day. He is using his S sounds at the beginning of words a lot more now and he is getting so big.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He seems to be doing a lot of boundry testing lately. He tells us no and says things like "I am NOT going to sit in the corner!"  He is still so sweet under his little attitude.  A simple time out corrects him and turns him back into my sweet little man.  So far this little rebellion stage is no big deal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THe big deal is that Marlin has been taking his pull up off in the middle of the night.  I think he pees in it and then takes it off.  Sometimes he puts on a new one.  Last night he went through three.  Sometimes he just sleeps naked and ends up peeing all over himself.  Im guessing this may be a signal that it is time to try to get him to stay dry at night.  If he is not liking being in his wet pull up.  I don't really feel up to changing sheets every day right now so I am ignoring that signal and hoping that it will go away...is that bad?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-5353423882950958102?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/5353423882950958102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/04/lellow.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/5353423882950958102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/5353423882950958102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/04/lellow.html' title='lellow'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-978840717056717601</id><published>2009-03-31T15:09:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-31T15:18:16.246-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='trouble'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='story'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marlin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Alivia'/><title type='text'>WHY?</title><content type='html'>Someone please explain to me why my children do the things they do.  A few nights ago things were quiet, which is never good.  Alivia and Marlin were in Marlins room playing so well and Matt and I were enjoying the peace and getting things done around the house.  Then I heard Matt...&lt;br /&gt;"What are you thinking?  Why would you do that?  Go to the corner!"  Something big was happening.  I went into Marlins room and the drawer under his bed was pulled out.  It had a puddle of pee in it.  You could see the line on the bed where Marlin had overshot the drawer a little but he got most of it right in the target.  "YOU PEED IN A DRAWER!!!" &lt;br /&gt;Matt left the room so he wouldn't permenantly damage Marlin and I started picking up the soaked things and cleaning stuff up.  I couldn't believe this one, I just didn't understand.  I went to the corner where Marlin was standing and asked "What made you think to pee in a drawer"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now lets back up a minute.  I should have noticed that Marlin was in big trouble and Alivia was not enjoying it like she usually does.  She wasn't bossing, she wasn't looking at the mess, she was in her room being quiet. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ok back to question.  "Marlin, what make you think to pee in a drawer?" &lt;br /&gt;His reply, "because wivia did it."  I looked at Alivia who was sheepishly peeking around the corner of his room and I asked "did you pee in the drawer too?"  she nodded her head with the most terrified look on her face.  Matt heard me ask that and came back in the room to deal with her while I continued to clean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know, its a few days later and the shock has worn off a little bit but I still just wonder...how do you get to the point where you decide that to pee into a drawer would be a good idea?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-978840717056717601?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/978840717056717601/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/03/why.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/978840717056717601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/978840717056717601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/03/why.html' title='WHY?'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-3104840049600435005</id><published>2009-03-24T14:49:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-24T14:55:05.189-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bribes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='children'/><title type='text'>Pictures</title><content type='html'>I finally got pictures taken of all three children.  It is soooo hard to get them all to face the camera at the same time.  When I made the appointment the person asked me if I wanted anything special and I said "just get them all smiling at the camera at the same time." &lt;br /&gt;  So we got to target a little early and we did some quick shopping.  As we were checking out I let the big kids pick out some candy.  They each picked a pack of peanut M&amp;amp;Ms.  I paid for them and then I put them in my bag and told them that if they were good when we got their pictures taken THEN they could have the candy. &lt;br /&gt;  I have never seen such perfect angels.  They posed, smiled, kissed each other and cooperated with every word that came out of the photographer's mouth.  WOW.  I've never seen such an attention span!  Little stinkers.  They got their M&amp;amp;M's and I got my pictures.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-3104840049600435005?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/3104840049600435005/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/03/pictures.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/3104840049600435005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/3104840049600435005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/03/pictures.html' title='Pictures'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-8416300691171386606</id><published>2009-03-09T12:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-09T12:39:34.022-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Alivia'/><title type='text'>Four year old Knowledge</title><content type='html'>A little knowledge goes a long way.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Alivia&lt;/span&gt; tends to think she already knows EVERYTHING but I will give her credit, she does know some things.  When I picked her up from preschool with her friend Jordan they had quite a conversation.  Here are a few of the highlights.&lt;br /&gt;A: We never get to see Elizabeth anymore&lt;br /&gt;J: nope&lt;br /&gt;A: That's because she lives in Spain (it's true, her friend is living in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Spain&lt;/span&gt; for 6 weeks)&lt;br /&gt;J: Where is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Spain&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;A: It's really far away, its across the OCEAN!&lt;br /&gt;J: you mean in the water&lt;br /&gt;A: no &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;across&lt;/span&gt; the ocean, on the other side&lt;br /&gt;(now at this point I am beaming, thinking how smart my daughter is)&lt;br /&gt;A: Its in England.&lt;br /&gt;J: oh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A: My uncle Archie lives in England and he has a queen.&lt;br /&gt;J: Is she mean&lt;br /&gt;A: No&lt;br /&gt;J: cause usually queens are mean and trying to kill princesses.&lt;br /&gt;A: No, she is nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a little later on&lt;br /&gt;A: guess what, this weekend my friend &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Liam&lt;/span&gt; came over and we caught thirty &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;forty&lt;/span&gt; thousand hundred twenty ladybugs.  They were crawling all over the windows. &lt;br /&gt;(is it bad that my kids were playing outside and they came in the house to catch some bugs?)&lt;br /&gt;A: then we caught a stink bug and it had an apple smell!!!!&lt;br /&gt;J: it had a what?&lt;br /&gt;A: some day if we have a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;play date&lt;/span&gt;, you can come over and if my stinkbug is still alive you can smell the apple smell. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Alivia&lt;/span&gt; found her blue eyeshadow in her backpack and passed it off to Jordan.  Jordan painted her face with it to the point that she looked like she should be singing KISS songs.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-8416300691171386606?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/8416300691171386606/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/03/four-year-old-knowledge.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/8416300691171386606'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/8416300691171386606'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/03/four-year-old-knowledge.html' title='Four year old Knowledge'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-7902583042016623533</id><published>2009-02-18T14:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-18T14:47:02.009-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marlin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Alivia'/><title type='text'>Bathroom talk</title><content type='html'>Our septic tank needed pumped this week. We discovered this because one night when I took the kids into the bathroom for their bath it smelled like a sewer. Matt came into the bathroom and said he would check the cellar to make sure nothing was leaking but it was probably just the tank needing pumped. When Matt walked out of the bathroom Alivia turned to me and said "Is daddy going to come up the toilet?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next night at dinner Marlin had to go potty. He went into the bathroom then he came out dancing and urgently requested my help. I took him into the bathroom and got him sitting on stool and ready to go. Lately, at this point Marlin has been saying "mama get outta here!" so I was playing it cool and trying not to pay too much attention to him so that he would tolerate my presence and I could help him at the end of his business without having to leave and come back.&lt;br /&gt;Marlin: "Mama, hay(say) jay ju did it!"&lt;br /&gt;me: "yeah you did it Marlin. Good job&lt;br /&gt;Marlin: "No put your arms up yike dis and wiggle and hay(say) jay ju did it!"&lt;br /&gt;I guess he didn't want me to ignore him too much:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, Marlin often insists that his underwear be on backwards because for some reason all the cool pictures are on the butt and he wants to be able to see them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-7902583042016623533?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/7902583042016623533/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/02/septic.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/7902583042016623533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/7902583042016623533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/02/septic.html' title='Bathroom talk'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-4686201570502381263</id><published>2009-02-13T11:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-13T11:16:25.993-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Supermom'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marlin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Alivia'/><title type='text'>Bedtime Stories</title><content type='html'>Last night the kids were high on sugar from the Valentines candy they got from the babysitter.  It was bedtime and we needed them to wind down so we turned off the lights in the living room and told them it was quiet time.  They snuggled in on the couch with Matt and wanted me to tell them a story.  When I started my usual tale of two kids living in the forest Alivia interjected and said she wanted a ghost story. I didn't want to scare them so I didn't think that was a good idea.  They wouldn't let me tell any stories I started so I let Alivia tell one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't remember the details but the ending was that the ghost ate all the people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Marlin wanted to tell one next&lt;br /&gt;"Mommy will you help me"&lt;br /&gt;Matt whispered something into his ear.&lt;br /&gt;Marlin: "Its about a sheep"&lt;br /&gt;Me: "What did the sheep do?"&lt;br /&gt;Marlin: "It ate all the people."&lt;br /&gt;Marlin: "The big bad wolf is in Mommy and Daddy's bed"&lt;br /&gt;The kids love the three little pigs story so I improvised and told a version with Marlin going into our room and saying "what big eyes, ears, teeth you have"  the wolf jumped out of the bed saying the better to eat you with and big sister Alivia ran in and punched the wolf and threw him out the front door saving her brother and living happily ever after. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That may not have been the best idea.  When we put the kids to bed, Marlin cried loudly about 3 minutes after we left his room.  I went in there and he was sobbing.  "I don't want the big bad wolf to come into my room."  Poor little guy, we left the light on for him and he recovered pretty quickly but that may not have been the best bedtime story.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-4686201570502381263?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/4686201570502381263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/02/bedtime-stories.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/4686201570502381263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/4686201570502381263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/02/bedtime-stories.html' title='Bedtime Stories'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-7475208413375370249</id><published>2009-02-10T16:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-10T16:21:51.635-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Work</title><content type='html'>Today, I hate work.  It's not that I hate my job, I actually like my job most of the time.  I just feel panicked that I am ruining my children by shipping them off to daycare.  I spend 3 hours a night with them.  In those three hours I make dinner, give baths, have 30 to 45 minutes of time with them and then send them off to bed.  I had motherhood pictured as this wonderful time when I would take the kids to the park and the library and museums each week.  I would teach them to love to learn and love to read.  I would open their little eyes to the world around them by spending every day helping them with new things.  Instead, I get up, rush them to get dressed and drop them off at Samantha's (God love her she is very sweet) where they do who knows what.  They eat all kind of things I would never feed them, they watch tv and play video games and then they come home and refuse my health food, fight with me and go to bed.  WAAAAAAAA. &lt;br /&gt;I am sure that my children are fine but I do wish that I could stay home with them and take care of them while they are so little.  I know, I tried that and I was grumpy and depressed but that doesn't meant that I can't have days like today when I fantasize about the Sound of Music/Mary Poppins type of existence we would (yeah right) have if I could only quit my job and spend my days with my babies.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-7475208413375370249?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/7475208413375370249/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/02/work.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/7475208413375370249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/7475208413375370249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/02/work.html' title='Work'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-6945558609321787053</id><published>2009-02-09T13:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T13:39:05.520-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Warm Weather</title><content type='html'>This weekend the frigid winter weather broke and the sunshine was out.  Saturday we enjoyed Audreys first birthday party.  Sunday the whole Williams clan headed outside to enjoy the warm weather.  Matt was splitting wood and I was "helping" him.  Molly rode in the backpack on my back to make sure I got enough exercise while I piled up the wood.  Alivia and Marlin were in heaven.  They played with the tiny mound of snow that was left in the front yard.  They stuck sticks and christmas decorations in it and managed to completely cover themselves with mud.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-6945558609321787053?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/6945558609321787053/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/02/warm-weather.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/6945558609321787053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/6945558609321787053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/02/warm-weather.html' title='Warm Weather'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-5505783659853257521</id><published>2009-02-06T10:25:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-06T10:33:51.893-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='milestones'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marlin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='conversations'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='molly'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Alivia'/><title type='text'>Molly's dramatic life</title><content type='html'>Last night I was in the bathroom with the three kids.  Molly was sitting on the bathroom rug while I was braiding Alivia's hair and Marlin was playing with Molly.  I heard a thunk and looked over to see Molly laying face down sprawled out on the bathroom floor.  Marlin was standing beside her.  I picked her up and asked Marlin what happened.  Through her screams I heard Marlin say "I picked her up and I dwapt her."  Yikes.  She was really fine but that poor girl is gonna be one tough cookie after growing up in this house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning while I was zipping Alivia's coat so we could head out I heard Molly start crying and looked over to see Marlin "giving" her his bucket. (giving it to her in her face)  I went over and the conversation went like this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Marlin, why did you hurt sissy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Marlin: because&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Marlin, you don't want to be a mean big brother, you want to be a nice big brother.  Please don't hurt your sissy.  You have to be careful she is just a baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Marlin: When I grow up I'm going to be a bad guy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alivia: (from across the room)  WELL THEN I'M NOT MARRYING YOU!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm glad we got all that straightened out this morning:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way my sweet baby molly cut her first tooth yesterday at 6 months old.  She is so smart:)  The babysitter found it before I did. Ugh!  I told Matt I have to quit my job because it is unacceptable for the babysitter to find a first tooth before the MOM!  I'm not quitting, it will all be ok.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-5505783659853257521?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/5505783659853257521/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/02/mollys-dramatic-life.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/5505783659853257521'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/5505783659853257521'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/02/mollys-dramatic-life.html' title='Molly&apos;s dramatic life'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-6211874710220739793</id><published>2009-02-05T10:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T11:10:29.630-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Outings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Drama'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Alivia'/><title type='text'>Shopping with three</title><content type='html'>Before Molly was born I still took &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Alivia&lt;/span&gt; and Marlin almost everywhere I went.  They were good at the grocery store and if they weren't I could put one in the seat of the cart and one in the back and race through the store getting just what I needed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that I have three children I have sworn many times that I am NEVER taking them all to the grocery store again.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Every time&lt;/span&gt; I have said it I have &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;meant&lt;/span&gt; it from the bottom of my soul.  At least for a year I do not plan to take all three kids to the store.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Unfortunately&lt;/span&gt; I keep &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;forgetting&lt;/span&gt; the details of why exactly it is so hard to take all the kids to the store so yesterday when I needed diapers and Matt was at Mike and Cortney's helping cut down some trees, so I took the kids to Kroger.  Big mistake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should have known when I was picking &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Alivia&lt;/span&gt; up at the babysitter and she had to have a time out before we could go that it was not a good day for shopping.   (but I had one diaper for molly left)  Despite the warnings, we went anyway. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While unloading the children from the car into the 3 degree winter air &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Alivia&lt;/span&gt; was saying, I don't like shopping, I don't want to go shopping.  I grabbed Marlin's hand and Molly's car seat and said "come on lets run"  and we all ran into the store.  The big kids thought that was fun for 30 seconds.  Then we hit the carts.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Alivia&lt;/span&gt; wanted the huge cart with the big plastic attachment that two kids can sit in and ride together.  The problem is that they can reach &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;each other&lt;/span&gt; and they like to climb in and out of it constantly while bickering and bothering &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;each other&lt;/span&gt; so I said no, put molly's car seat in the front of a normal cart and we headed into the store. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will admit that it is nice to have them begging for fruit.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Alivia&lt;/span&gt; ran to the cut up watermelon  and started screaming, "buy me this mama, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; starving."  We have been working on how to ask nicely (for four years) so the watermelon was not an option.  Now we had an unhappy &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Alivia&lt;/span&gt;, (more unhappy than the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;winy&lt;/span&gt; one that I dragged out of the car) to get the rest of the way through the grocery store.  Luckily I only needed diapers.   We headed for the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;diaper&lt;/span&gt; isle, on the way Marlin and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;Alivia&lt;/span&gt; asked for everything that was on a shelf and lower than 3 feet.  We finally got the diapers and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;Alivia&lt;/span&gt; announce that she needed to go to the bathroom.  Instead of rushing I went to the self check and paid for the groceries that I was buying.  Somehow only getting diapers turned into 50 dollars worth of groceries...of course.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the time I had paid for the groceries she had to go and the bathrooms were right there.  I opened the door and told her to go in and I would wait right here with marlin, molly and the cart of groceries.  She wanted me to go with her.  I tried to explain that she had gone in that bathroom by herself before, there was no one in there, and that I couldn't fit the cart in there so we would wait out here.  She refused to go and we headed home.  Then she started screaming, "I have to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;peee&lt;/span&gt; really bad!"  A lady came over and informed me that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;Alivia&lt;/span&gt; needed to use the potty.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;Grrr&lt;/span&gt; no kidding lady back off you have no idea what you are jumping into here.&lt;br /&gt;I took &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;Alivia&lt;/span&gt; back to the bathroom and she went in.  I waited about 20 seconds with the little kids then I pushed the door open to check on her.  She was standing there in a puddle of pee.  So we left the store and headed into the 5 degree winter air with wet pants and all.  I love all three children with all my heart BUT I am never taking them all to the store again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-6211874710220739793?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/6211874710220739793/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/02/shopping-with-three.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/6211874710220739793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/6211874710220739793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/02/shopping-with-three.html' title='Shopping with three'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-3592421929540486408</id><published>2009-01-23T13:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T13:56:37.591-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Alivia'/><title type='text'>Illinois</title><content type='html'>This fall Matt was getting ready to go to Illinois to harvest their plots and we were telling Alivia that daddy was going to Illinois the next day.  Of course, Illinois might as well have been right next to McDonalds in Crawfordsville for all she was understanding of it.  We kept explaining that Indiana was a state and we lived in Indiana.  Daddy was going to leave Indiana and go to Illinois.  She was a lot more interested in Illinois than I expected her to be.  She kept asking questions about it and bringing it up over and over throughout the evening.  Finally she said, you mean Illinois like the bathroom at the cabin?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our Family cabin has an old outhouse that we moved from my grandmothers house.  It was part of Roosevelt's new deal.  One of the programs was furnishing outhouses to rural houses across America and my grandparents got one.  We named the outhouse Eleanor.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-3592421929540486408?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/3592421929540486408/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/01/illinois.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/3592421929540486408'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/3592421929540486408'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/01/illinois.html' title='Illinois'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-5113387644266189913</id><published>2009-01-23T11:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T11:27:26.793-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='discipline'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marlin'/><title type='text'>Spitting</title><content type='html'>Here is a story from a year ago...&lt;br /&gt;When Marlin was about 14 months old he went through a stage where he was spitting on everything.  He spit on people, chairs and anything else that he thought it might be interesting to see spit on.  One day he was spitting on me so I sent him to time out so he could stop spitting.  I was doing several other things at the time also.  I checked on him in the corner and he had a teddy bear with him in the corner.  He looked at me like he knew he was getting away with something (I don't allow toys in time out) but I had too many things going on to deal with that so I decided to not notice the teddy bear.  When the timer ended and he came out of the corner he brought the teddy bear to me.  I looked at him and said "yes marlin I see the teddy bear"  He continued to follow me around and hold the teddy bear up.  When I took a better look I noticed that the teddy bear was soaking wet.  He had been sitting in time out (for spitting) spitting on his teddy bear.  He must have spit 50 times to get that bear that wet.  What a little bugger.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-5113387644266189913?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/5113387644266189913/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/01/spitting.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/5113387644266189913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/5113387644266189913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/01/spitting.html' title='Spitting'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-8729870020416579249</id><published>2009-01-22T09:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T09:27:44.058-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Embracing the winter</title><content type='html'>I do not like winter.  It makes me feel grumpy and shut in.  I do however want my children to still enjoy themselves so in an effort to embrace the good that winter has to offer we stayed at our family cabin for the past two nights.  It turned out to be a good time.  Last night when we all got home from work and babysitters I bundled up the kids while Matt stoked fires and bought fishing supplies and we headed down to the lake to go ice fishing.  The kids wanted to ice skate too but the ice had crusty snow on it and was not even a tiny bit slick.  I was a little relieved because I didn't know how I was going to handle Marlin (2) and Alivia (4) in ice skates while holding molly (6months)  I bundled up molly and then zipped her into my down coat facing outward and she stayed cozy warm. &lt;br /&gt;Matt didn't catch a single fish but we made foot prints, snow angels, circles and castles all over the pond.  Of course after being out on the pond for about 10 minutes marlin had to pee.  So Matt had to completely un-bundle him.  He was a little late but it was a good effort.  Everything seems pretty complicated with three tiny kids in the winter.  It takes a lot of preparation and I often find myself looking at Matt and wondering if we should have just stayed indoors and turned on a movie.  But really it is worth it and most outings even end up being fun.  It sure is amazing to watch our little family of 5 grow both physically and as a family.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-8729870020416579249?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/8729870020416579249/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/01/embracing-winter.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/8729870020416579249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/8729870020416579249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/01/embracing-winter.html' title='Embracing the winter'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-1518374423673643194</id><published>2009-01-21T10:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T09:37:59.815-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='angie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='not babies'/><title type='text'>25 things about myself</title><content type='html'>I was sent this on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;face book&lt;/span&gt; and thought I would do it here. I'm supposed to write 25 things about myself and then send this to 25 people and have them do the same. Here goes...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I miss reading terribly but still don't do much of it. I used to be an avid reader. I would always have more than one book started and read every day. I use my kids as an excuse (a good one at times) but I could curl up with a book at the end of the day as easily as turning on the TV. TV has just become an end of the day habit to me and I need to break it. I still always have several books started at once but I almost never finish any of them!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I am sitting in a cabin in the woods. My family and I are spending a few days at our family cabin and going to work and school from here instead of home. Its cozy warm with the wood stove going but there is not running water so I have to limit how much coffee I drink or I will have to go out into the snow to pee. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Brrrrrr&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I stopped spanking my kids as a New Years Resolution this year. I haven't noticed a huge difference in anything but I just can't justify doing it anymore when my belief is that there are other ways to discipline. Spanking is easier sometimes and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;definitely&lt;/span&gt; gets their attention but does it accomplish anything...I don't think so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. I love the outdoors but spend most of my time inside. Three kids 4 and under are just complicated to get outside and once I get them out there sometimes I think, what is the point. Plus I have so many unfinished chores inside at all times I feel obligated to go inside and work on them. Hopefully when this winter weather breaks and Molly is a little bigger it will be easier to get outdoors again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. I miss having non children &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;related&lt;/span&gt; things going on in my life. I still do some other things but 90% of what goes through my brain (except for work) is child related and it tends to drown out the Angie that had the kids originally. She'll be back, I just miss her sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. I have been a board member of the Friends of Sugar Creek for 8 years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. I cloth diapered my first two kids and have just switched back to cloth with my third. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; just so tired of spending money on diapers...we will see how long this lasts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. My biggest pet &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;peeve&lt;/span&gt; is when someone says "I need to talk to you" and then they don't tell me what it is about. I go crazy with ideas of what it could be; something I did that made them hate me; something I forgot to do; something bad; something very very bad...maybe I'm paranoid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. I took &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Suzuki&lt;/span&gt; violin lessons from second grade to sixth. Now, I could probably play twinkle twinkle little star on a violin but not much else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. When I was little, I truly believed I could be an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Olympic&lt;/span&gt; gymnast if my parents would just sign me up for lessons. I took a few but was in ten thousand other &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;activities&lt;/span&gt; also. I joined the HS gymnastics team and did pretty well and still at that stage believed it was my parent's fault that I was not an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Olympic&lt;/span&gt; gold medalist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. I love gardening and eating fresh garden produce.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. I do not love butchering chickens but we raise meat chickens and I love having them in my freezer...wow &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; sounding a little crunchy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. With all the crunchy things I do, recycling more often than not, does not happen at my house...bad bad &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Angie&lt;/span&gt;. No curbside pickup in the country.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. My dog cut his ear and bled all over my house. I keep finding spots on random walls, toys, beds, floors and furniture where he shook his head and splattered blood. He is stuck on the back porch until he recovers fully.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. I relate to my oldest daughter often because I have two younger brothers and am just as bossy as she is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. I like to go &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;canoeing&lt;/span&gt; but have not been in a canoe for over a year. Maybe this spring I can change that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. We heat with wood at our house. We have an outdoor wood furnace. It eats a lot of wood but it beats having a gas bill. My husband works his butt off cutting wood for us all winter. Again, once the kids are a little bigger we can help him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. I'm not a big fan of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;tomatoes&lt;/span&gt;. They gross me out when I cut them up. I like garden &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;tomatoes&lt;/span&gt; with certain things but I have to work hard not to be grossed out by them. Once they are in food &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; fine with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. I wish my kids could go to the school I went to and I am concerned about the school district we live in. The thought of it makes me cringe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. I like all types of music but am stuck in a rut of music that was produced before 1995. Does that make me old? I just don't know a lot of new stuff. I probably know more than I think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. I lived in Oregon. It is the most beautiful place I have ever been. I would move there again if it was an hour drive from my parent's house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22. I have never been to Europe but my youngest brother lives in England so hopefully that will change soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23. I used to know most of the constellations, I worked in a nature center with daily planetarium shows. I miss knowing what is going on in the night sky...planets, seasonal constellations, meteor showers etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24. The greatest job I ever had was working as a seasonal naturalist at Turkey Run State Park. It was seasonal so I didn't get to work through the winter and it paid less than 10 dollars/hour so it wasn't something I could do for life but I LOVED it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25. These words are not allowed in my house; hate, stupid; butt; fart; crap; poop (only in the bathroom) and the obvious other four letter ones that I wont list.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-1518374423673643194?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/1518374423673643194/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/01/25-things-about-myself.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/1518374423673643194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/1518374423673643194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/01/25-things-about-myself.html' title='25 things about myself'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-978452365744763247</id><published>2009-01-21T09:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-21T10:07:13.677-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='milestones'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marlin'/><title type='text'>Saying goodbye to "EE-Ah"</title><content type='html'>Marlin is 2.5 years old and has called &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Alivia&lt;/span&gt; "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;EE&lt;/span&gt;-Ah" for the past year.  In the last six months &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;EE&lt;/span&gt;-Ah has been such a common word in our house I have found myself thinking things like &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;EE&lt;/span&gt;-Ah needs some jeans or where did &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;EE&lt;/span&gt;-ah go?  I have almost called her that several times.  Well, we have known for a while that Marlin is completely capable of saying &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Alivia&lt;/span&gt; he just kept calling her &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;EE&lt;/span&gt;-ah.  Yesterday we were all three in the bathroom and Marlin said "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Alivia&lt;/span&gt;, what are you doing?" It stopped me in my tracks...NO YOU SAY &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;EE&lt;/span&gt;-ah! I didn't say that but it was a big moment and now I am saying goodbye to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;EE&lt;/span&gt;-ah with secret hopes that Molly will &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;resurrect&lt;/span&gt; the nickname in about a year.  They are all growing so fast and I know that this one little thing is no big deal but it was a big deal at the moment that my little man chose to use his big sisters name correctly.  I still struggle to understand half of what he says.  He talks non stop and I feel guilty for how many times I have to say "what?" and have him repeat things over and over again.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Alivia&lt;/span&gt; is a great translator though and often gets what he says before I do.  Poor little dude.  I am proud of him for talking so well and getting better every day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-978452365744763247?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/978452365744763247/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/01/saying-goodbye-to-ee-ah.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/978452365744763247'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/978452365744763247'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/01/saying-goodbye-to-ee-ah.html' title='Saying goodbye to &quot;EE-Ah&quot;'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-6522796926936519975</id><published>2009-01-20T14:59:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-14T11:35:31.304-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='perspective'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='molly'/><title type='text'>Molly's smile</title><content type='html'>There is something about my sweet baby molly's smile. Is it better than the smiles of my other precious children...no. It is simply different. Although you don't know for sure how long anyone will be with you, it wasn't very long ago we believed we might lose our little Molly. Once you have stood in front of the formula section at the store and tried to decide if you should buy one or two cans because you don't know if your baby will be alive long enough to drink two, you just don't forget how lucky you are to still have them. So every single time my sweet baby molly grins it is a beautiful baby smile and an amazing miracle.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-6522796926936519975?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/6522796926936519975/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/01/mollys-smile.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/6522796926936519975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/6522796926936519975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/01/mollys-smile.html' title='Molly&apos;s smile'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-4611504644767750275</id><published>2009-01-15T10:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-15T10:33:48.895-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='doctor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marlin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Alivia'/><title type='text'>Cooking with babies</title><content type='html'>Last night Matt was cutting wood so I needed to cook dinner and entertain all three children.  I talked Alivia and Marlin into thinking it would be really fun for them to cook dinner.  They rummaged through the cabinets and came up with a menu of ramen noodles, canned green beans and corn bread.  (I added some stew meat to the menu to make sure Matt had is daily requirement of Meat) They were so excited to do the cooking.  First we started on the corn bread.  Marlin poured milk into the bowl and Alivia cracked an egg.  Her thumbs go into the egg and she was laughing with excitement at the goeyness of it all.  After the egg fell into the bowl Alivia went in after it with her hands, feeling the yolk and oohing and aahh ing at the raw egg...YUCK.  So we got her cleaned up and it was time to pour the jiffy corn bread mix into the bowl.  Marlin did some then handed it to his sister to do the rest.  They took turns stirring and Alivia poured the mixture into a bread pan.&lt;br /&gt;Next...the noodles.  Alivia got a pot and filled it half full of water.  When I went to put it on the stove she erupted in tears "not boil for a while!!!!!!"  she wanted to put the noodles in NOW.  She recovered and Marlin dumped green beans into a bowl and put them in the microwave.  Molly was on my hip the whole time (of course). &lt;br /&gt;When Matt came in the kids were so excited to feed him the dinner they made.  It was a good time.  Alivia learned what half of something was and they stayed occupied and happy while dinner was cooked. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Earlier that day we had taken Molly to riley for a check up.  Her heart is less enlarged than before and she got a good report.  We had thought about taking Marlin too since Alivia would be at preschool and I had missed the little guys while I was in Michigan.  We asked him if he wanted to have a special day and go with mommy and daddy and he replied "no I want to go to (sa)manthas."  okey dokey whatever makes ya happy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-4611504644767750275?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/4611504644767750275/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/01/cooking-with-babies.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/4611504644767750275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/4611504644767750275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/01/cooking-with-babies.html' title='Cooking with babies'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-3699634497099006809</id><published>2009-01-12T10:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-12T22:46:22.938-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='travel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='molly'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Alivia'/><title type='text'>michigan</title><content type='html'>I am in Michigan on a trip for work.  My mom came with me because I am not ready to leave Molly all night.  So, she played nanny today while I hosted a workshop and then we hung out tonight.  We went to dinner in the restaurant at the hotel.  Molly was getting a little fussy and I put her in the wooden restaurant high chair with a few toys.  I put her bottle in her chair with her.  It was upright and between her legs.  Our food came and we started to eat.  I looked over and Molly had leaned over and been sucking on the bottle and fallen asleep.  The table next to us was full of people looking over and grinning at her.  She is pretty cute.  It is funny to walk around with a tiny baby and watch everyone look at her and smile.  She wont remember her first trip out of Indiana or her first hotel but I sure hope I remember how she looked sound asleep sitting upright with her mouth on her bottle.  Poor kid, someone should provide a proper bed for her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Far away in Indiana my big girl, Alivia attended her first gymnastics class ever.  Several weeks ago I told her I was signing her up for gymnastics and she cried and threw a big fit insisting that she did not want to go.  She has become apprehensive when it comes to new experiences.  It is understandable, I knew she would like it once she went.  So tonight, with me out of town, Cindy took her to gymnastics and Alivia loved it.  She called me when she got home and she told me that she did the bars all by herself, and she did backwards rolls and splits and her teacher is nice.  I am so glad that she liked it and I wish I could be there to give her and Marlin big hugs.  It's so hard to be away from someone you love so much.  (By the way my "little man" was too busy to talk to me tonight)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-3699634497099006809?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/3699634497099006809/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/01/michigan.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/3699634497099006809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/3699634497099006809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/01/michigan.html' title='michigan'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-8756485487219500537</id><published>2009-01-09T13:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-15T09:54:43.315-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marlin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Alivia'/><title type='text'>Buffalo Soldier</title><content type='html'>Marlin has a new favorite song, Buffalo Soldier by Bob Marley. He insists on hearing it whenever we get in the car. His request sounds like "Bufo Hoder Mom!" I tested to see if it really is that song by putting on every other bob marley song on the album first. Nope he rejected them all. The boy know what he wants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is hard to get information from Alivia about what she does at school. I think she likes to torture me a little and refuse to tell me things when she can sense that I would love to know. So, today when I picked her up I told her whatever she did, not to tell me anything that she did at school today because I did not want to hear it. She knew I was kidding and said yes you do mom. I proceeded to cover my ears and say "lalalalalalala don't tell me" She laughed really loudly and proceeded to tell me things about school all the way to the babysitter so that I would make that funny noise again. She always has enjoyed doing just what I tell her not to do:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-8756485487219500537?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/8756485487219500537/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/01/buffalo-soilder.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/8756485487219500537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/8756485487219500537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/01/buffalo-soilder.html' title='Buffalo Soldier'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-7553351817098602910</id><published>2009-01-09T13:38:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-14T11:41:01.198-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Outdoors'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='doctor'/><title type='text'>Hillbilly Mom</title><content type='html'>This morning I dropped Alivia off at preschool and headed to the dr with Marlin and Molly. Marlin needed a follow up on his head that the dr's in the emergency room glued shut on Sunday night (he is fine) and Molly needed her second RSV vaccination. We weighed sweetbaby molly and in the past four weeks she has gone from 10lbs 10 oz to 13lbs 3oz. This is huge! She is still a tiny little thing but she is back on the growth charts (almost 25th %) and she made a remarkable turnaround after her heart surgery in November. See sweetbabymolly/xanga.com for details.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I worked at the office and I had to drive the big truck since Matt needed the car so he could pick up all three kids after work. The girls teased me for being a hillbilly and driving the "wood gettin truck." Ah so be it. I am glad that my children are growing up on a farm where they have the opportunity to be in touch with the great outdoors every day instead of just visiting parks once or twice a year to taste wilderness. When we go to a park it is often a social event because we see people and activity much more than if we just stay home and enjoy the peaceful outdoors in our own back yard. So if I have to be part hillbilly so that my kids will experience nature daily and grow up in touch with the way the REAL world operates, I can live with that:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-7553351817098602910?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/7553351817098602910/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/01/hillbilly-mom.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/7553351817098602910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/7553351817098602910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/01/hillbilly-mom.html' title='Hillbilly Mom'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-892698573936897166.post-8985911554345138625</id><published>2009-01-07T09:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-07T10:39:21.683-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='injury'/><title type='text'>First Blog Ever</title><content type='html'>I have made fun of many people for being bloggers.  In the haze of raising three children ages 4, 2 and 5 months I feel my memory of details slipping away.  I am the worlds worst mother when it comes to filling out baby books, actually printing the thousands of digital pictures we have, getting professional pictures taken or recording all the cute crazy things that happen in my home on a regular basis.  So this is my final attempt to cling to some of the memory of these amazing crazy years.  Hopefully, someday my children will be able to visit this blog and read how crazy their mother truly was. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, this is about the kids.  Alivia is four, Marlin is 2 and sweet baby molly is 5 months old.  Each one amazes me every day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last Sunday we were ready to put all the kids to bed.  All five of us were in our pj's and Matt took Marlin into his room.  In an attempt to get a new pull up Marlin triped on his bed and crashed his head into the counter of the old bar that we have been using as a changing table.  I I heard Matt say my name in a tone that let me know we had a serious situation on our hands.  I ran to the bathroom to meet them with Molly in my arms and Alivia right behind me.  I needed to get a close look at his head so I told Alivia to sit down and hold her sister.  She said "ok," she was probably freaking out more that the rest of us.  One look and we knew we were headed to the emergency room.  On the way to the hospital I was holding Marlins hand and he looked at me with his big blue eyes and said "Mama, Im I going to be ok?"  Ugh, it completely melted me.  Poor little guy.  He was very brave and very well behaved and let the dr glue his forhead back together without a struggle. I'm so proud of my little man.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/892698573936897166-8985911554345138625?l=crazychickenmama.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/feeds/8985911554345138625/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/01/first-blog-ever.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/8985911554345138625'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/892698573936897166/posts/default/8985911554345138625'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crazychickenmama.blogspot.com/2009/01/first-blog-ever.html' title='First Blog Ever'/><author><name>Crazy Chicken Mama</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08338217735443655551</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XqOBWhieh7M/SWTr5jmvZVI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/BnVdGDeRm3c/S220/angie.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
