<?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-1504177785055185631</id><updated>2011-09-16T18:05:50.636-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Boiled Peanuts</title><subtitle type='html'>A Journey into Delighted Madness</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://momajen.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1504177785055185631/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://momajen.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Jen Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12638600713983035484</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SDodAI4Fi-I/AAAAAAAAAAY/s9qP6EV-jvA/S220/DSCF0358.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>31</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1504177785055185631.post-3087675911238505405</id><published>2008-11-02T10:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-02T11:22:55.737-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pantless Peas and  Despots</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-bf01402e799e0bcc" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v13.nonxt8.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dbf01402e799e0bcc%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331160427%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3DA39E87A5035540E29F8777B6999AD2EB647A5EA.633B0F4F3F10E990219B2C646F430231644D4CA4%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dbf01402e799e0bcc%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3Dl6Wyte3GhkJsnE2EToXQ99FPvkU&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v13.nonxt8.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dbf01402e799e0bcc%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331160427%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3DA39E87A5035540E29F8777B6999AD2EB647A5EA.633B0F4F3F10E990219B2C646F430231644D4CA4%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dbf01402e799e0bcc%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3Dl6Wyte3GhkJsnE2EToXQ99FPvkU&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Hey-ooo. Well, halloween has come and gone. ANd I must say, we had a good one. I have a great video of Jones dressed as a lobster but for whatever reason it may or may not play. Astronaut Jones is a powerful rabbit and I'm sure the powers that be are in his corner. He was less than thrilled about being a crustacean for Halloween. Now, a cephalopod on the other hand...that would have been different. Boudreaux and Bridger did not dress up, but promise to for our Christmas card.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Caroline looked adorable in her pea pod costume. Popa did too. However, I did have to have a talk with him and explain that it is not right to not wear pants under his costume. there is somethign very wrong and dirty about a grown man wearing a pea pod costume sans pants. Caroline thought he was hilarious and kept cracking up at him. Not at the fact he was pantless, but rather a grown man dressed as a legume.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I find myself unable to fall asleep the other night because I couldn;t stop thinking about dictators. Not how they oppress or rule tyranically, but rather how much they look like babies. And people will do anything for a baby....or a baby-alike cuz you don't want them to throw a fit. Kim Jong Il- looks like a baby with adult glasses on. Chavez.....looks like a baby with questionable fashion sense ( c'mon, now. an uniform is a uniform but you can't wear the same button down shirt every day. Put a patch on it and bam, it's a uniform. But try telling that to a baby. ) Fidel Castro......not so much like a baby. I haven't figured that one out. I challenge you to review the world's despots and you will find a baby factor. Not the cute side of a baby, but rather the fearsome pre-fit glare matched with chubby cheeks.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I hope you do not lose sleep over this.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Bing has a training today. He is basically playing "cops and robbers" with glorified paint guns at the range with other cops. He gets paid to do this. No wonder he loves his job. Me and Caroline took down the Halloween decorations and are merely counting the days before we get to take out the Christmas decorations.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;School is school these days. I really do have an easy bunch this year. I still find myself shocked at 8th graders in general, though. And they remain shocked at how immature a 35 year old woman can be. Needless to say, they love me. One of my girls told me the other day I should have a cartoon character " since you are so crazy and funny. Do you act that way at home?" I assured her that yes, I do behave this way at home and it is more than tolerated.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I leave you with some pics of peapods with and without pants.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264142087246506722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SQ39VnWC6uI/AAAAAAAAAI0/2_LLMVThass/s320/DSCF0107.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264142072550505362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SQ39UwmPu5I/AAAAAAAAAIk/SK8x_wKHvcE/s320/DSCF0070.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264142081352291730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SQ39VRYwVZI/AAAAAAAAAIs/gRjPWTRDcpU/s320/DSCF0076.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&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/1504177785055185631-3087675911238505405?l=momajen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=bf01402e799e0bcc&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://momajen.blogspot.com/feeds/3087675911238505405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1504177785055185631&amp;postID=3087675911238505405' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1504177785055185631/posts/default/3087675911238505405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1504177785055185631/posts/default/3087675911238505405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://momajen.blogspot.com/2008/11/pantless-peas-and-despots.html' title='Pantless Peas and  Despots'/><author><name>Jen Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12638600713983035484</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SDodAI4Fi-I/AAAAAAAAAAY/s9qP6EV-jvA/S220/DSCF0358.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SQ39VnWC6uI/AAAAAAAAAI0/2_LLMVThass/s72-c/DSCF0107.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1504177785055185631.post-6352933319246238641</id><published>2008-10-22T19:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-22T19:35:42.235-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Plumpkin in pumpkins</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SP_cL_v08zI/AAAAAAAAAIc/8ZAXVcx6-As/s1600-h/DSCF0088.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260164988440736562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SP_cL_v08zI/AAAAAAAAAIc/8ZAXVcx6-As/s320/DSCF0088.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SP_b3Wxl5XI/AAAAAAAAAIU/NyUznBHJ3j4/s1600-h/DSCF0079.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260164194387920002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SP_bdxq4hII/AAAAAAAAAIE/B81B8mIBfcM/s320/DSCF0078.JPG" border="0" /&gt; Ok. I know I said I would be regular with this. I do apologize. It has been buuuuussssyyyy. And the three of us have been sick for a while, but are all well now! Yippee! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Took Plumpkin to the pumkin patch. She is in the 5th percentile among pumpkins as well.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All is well with us. I swear I think she is close to saying her first word. I actually think it might have happened already. She loves playing with her rubber duckies that her Auntie Grit got her. She has a little Mexican one that is her favorite that we call Pato. We often make pretend phone calls to Pato throughout the day much to her squeling delight. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me, with a crazed look in my eye: " Hola???? Pato?  Hola??!!!!! Pato??!!!!!" This screechingly continues to a carzy manifesto of pretend Spanish gibberish. Caroline thinks this is WONDERFUL and she grunts and grins and heehaws every time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, anyway, she was taking a bath today when she turned around holding Pato and said to me " pato". I would have said I was making this up had she not sounded like she had said it earlier when we were playing with Land Pato ( not to be confused with Marine Pato). So, our little gorgeous girl is not only a looker but apparently she is bilingual. ( Pato is spanish for duck, by the way.)  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Genius....just like her Moma!!!!!!!!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Back to the bath tub. When I was taking my bath this evening, which is truly one of life's greatest pleasures and a time of some of my best pondering. Mostly I pretend to be Billy Idol or  try to hold my breath under water while pretending to be the first person to develop some sort of mutated gill membrane.  Or sometimes I fashion 18th  century wigs out of shampoo head.This is how I relax. Every night. Well, tonight I was listening to my IPod on shuffle, which is truly wonderful and I love  my little ipod. Well, little Ipodito really summed up the joy that is life with my bathtime song shuffle. I will now share these song titles with you with a few comments on life that I thought upon whilst taking my bath.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. " Give Me Back my Wig" - the walter trout power trio&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;No one has the right to steal your wig.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. "Fistful of Steel" Rage Against the Machine- It's fun to get mad. I really don't have fits of rage but I like to pretend I do when I listen to this song. It's fun and kinda hilarious to pretend to be mad.  I'm M-A-D!!      Hahaha.....mad people are funny.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. Simple Man- Lynard Skynard. Man, what a song. I feel like I should stand up and doing something patriotic. but I'm in the bathtub. So, I'll just think that this is an awesome song that every 17 year old boy should hear. It should be a law.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. Nessun Dorma- Luciano Pavorotti.     Oh........I am a lady with a giant dress made of cupcakes. Elegant cupcakes. I'm floating down a gilded staircase. With my shampoo fancy wig. Oh, opera is good for the soul. Rest in Peace with the angels, Luciano. Everybody needs a cupcake dress.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;5 Angel Flying to Close to the Ground- Willie Nelson      This is the last song I could listen to cuz it makes me cry every time I hear it. What a sweet, sweet song. I am so thankful for my two angels that just so happened to be flying to close to the ground. I'm so glad I caught you too and so thankful. I love my Popa Bear and my lil Plumpkin.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On that sappy note, I leave you with Caroline wearing Astronaut Jones' Halloween costume. Yes, it is a lobster. And yes, they wear the same size.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260164320731286882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 272px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 227px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SP_blIVfTWI/AAAAAAAAAIM/jaZRDBn-0mo/s320/DSCF0068.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1504177785055185631-6352933319246238641?l=momajen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://momajen.blogspot.com/feeds/6352933319246238641/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1504177785055185631&amp;postID=6352933319246238641' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1504177785055185631/posts/default/6352933319246238641'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1504177785055185631/posts/default/6352933319246238641'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://momajen.blogspot.com/2008/10/plumpkin-in-pumpkins.html' title='Plumpkin in pumpkins'/><author><name>Jen Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12638600713983035484</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SDodAI4Fi-I/AAAAAAAAAAY/s9qP6EV-jvA/S220/DSCF0358.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SP_cL_v08zI/AAAAAAAAAIc/8ZAXVcx6-As/s72-c/DSCF0088.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1504177785055185631.post-7418267897248515292</id><published>2008-10-04T10:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-04T11:07:25.118-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Foosball is de debil!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SOeq4vQPkwI/AAAAAAAAAHs/fwQtdK29mAI/s1600-h/DSCF0048.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253355382084965122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SOeq4vQPkwI/AAAAAAAAAHs/fwQtdK29mAI/s320/DSCF0048.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Sorry it has been so long since my last post. Septembers are terribly busy as a teacher. I teach 200 8th graders and it takes awhile for me to acclimate back to the insanity. But I kinda like it. Leaving my sweet Caroline has been horrible though. I really miss our play time.&lt;br /&gt;Poor little thing got her first real bug last weekend. She had really high fever but the doc said it was just a virus and to wait it out. After her fever broke, she got roseola. Which is exactly what it sounds like. She was a splotchy little roseola for a day then it disappeared.&lt;br /&gt;Now the other baby in the house is sick. Actually, Bing has always been pretty tough when it comes to getting sick. But as the years go by, he is taking to being a bit more pitiful .There's just so many family members competing for Moma's attention, an extra sniffle and moan always help. ;)&lt;br /&gt;I got Caroline the cutest peapod costume for Halloween. bing is gonna be a pod too, since they are two peas in a pod. He is very adamant about it. I'm thinking of going as a carrot. You know...peas and carrots, Jenny!!!    Of course, Astronaut JOnes will be going as a lobster and I am thinking Boudreaux may go as Mary Magdelene and Bridger as  Baby Jesus. Yes, I am being serious. I think it might make a great Christmas card: The traditional manger menagerie of vegetables, lobsters, and the Holy Family. I just need to find Joseph....maybe Jones can be a lobster dressed as Joseph. Oh, the decisions a Moma has to make. It is dizzying.&lt;br /&gt;today I'm putting out our Halloween decorations. Caroline loves Halloween already, especially giant spiders. Just like her Moma.&lt;br /&gt;Caroline had her wellness check when she went in the other day too. She is STILL in the 5 % of size....such a teeny girl but strong as an ox and Doc said she is right in target for her percentile in growth. No one can believe she is 9 months old! But she is smart as a whip, despite her lilliputian size.&lt;br /&gt;All is well here at the Smith house. Lanky is coming in for a visit this week. Can't wait to show off  Plumpkin.&lt;br /&gt;And here is your fast update on all members of the household:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Bing&lt;/strong&gt; ( aka Popa, Steve, Officer Smith, Stinkpot): has the sniffles but is getting better. Also has been eating way to much cereal and the methane levels in the house are nearly lethal&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Caroline&lt;/strong&gt; ( aka Plumpkin, Plumpkers, K-line): getting over her sniffles and laughing and clapping the day away. Waving at everybody and saying "blahblahblah" all the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Boudreaux &lt;/strong&gt;( aka Bigguns, Loudmouth, Mr. Sweet Feet,Butterscotch Boy): doing great, napping and eating constantly. Always ready to bark, kiss and go for a walk. Often at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Bridger&lt;/strong&gt; ( aka Lil Girl,  Miss Pants, Lil Fox): looking to attack Boudreaux constantly and snuggle at any given moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Astronaut Jones&lt;/strong&gt; ( aka The Man in Black, Jones, Mephis Jones, Mephis): Very explorative. Eating all the cabbage and loves to snuggle with K-line. Plotting to overthrow the governement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Moma&lt;/strong&gt; ( aka Baby, Jef-fer): Loving her little idiot family more and more every day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok. You have updates. You can now sleep at night knowing we are OK. Promise to write at least once a week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And look up Colossal Squids. Which ARE different than Giant Squids. I am obsessed with cephalapods as of late. I love their eyeballs.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1504177785055185631-7418267897248515292?l=momajen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://momajen.blogspot.com/feeds/7418267897248515292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1504177785055185631&amp;postID=7418267897248515292' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1504177785055185631/posts/default/7418267897248515292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1504177785055185631/posts/default/7418267897248515292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://momajen.blogspot.com/2008/10/foosball-is-de-debil.html' title='Foosball is de debil!'/><author><name>Jen Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12638600713983035484</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SDodAI4Fi-I/AAAAAAAAAAY/s9qP6EV-jvA/S220/DSCF0358.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SOeq4vQPkwI/AAAAAAAAAHs/fwQtdK29mAI/s72-c/DSCF0048.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1504177785055185631.post-4179047271458772813</id><published>2008-09-13T13:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-13T13:45:48.053-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Leisure is dangerous to your health</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SMwjoeJYy0I/AAAAAAAAAHk/-hHuC-aVa10/s1600-h/Thriller_Video_Clip-thumb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245606844173962050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SMwjoeJYy0I/AAAAAAAAAHk/-hHuC-aVa10/s320/Thriller_Video_Clip-thumb.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; You know the dance. You know the part where the zombies are all hunched over holding their knees and walking away? That is Bing this weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He hurt himself whilst lifting a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;hotdog&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Yep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You may recall that in my last post, my sweet obsessive husband made us all go to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;WalMart&lt;/span&gt; on a Saturday to procure a grill for the boat. Well, he found the perfect one and expertly fastened it onto a very nice piece of shelving that fits across the bow seats and can be stored under the boat. To his credit, it is very well done and a great addition.&lt;br /&gt;But then he decided to use it without supervision. On his SECOND day of leisure boating ( we've had unseasonably &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;wonderful&lt;/span&gt; weather since school started...go figure), he was grilling some weenies for his buddies. As he reached down to grab one of said weenies, the sheer &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;athleticism&lt;/span&gt; of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Olympic&lt;/span&gt; feat proved too much and he pulled something in his back. He continued to have a good time with a minor pain in his back.&lt;br /&gt;However, when he got home, he had become one of the Thriller dancers. Actually, he was lucky to even get the dance position...I caught him crawling to the toilet last night. So sad!!! Needless to say, he is now on the couch with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Vicodin&lt;/span&gt; and muscle relaxers thanks to the ER doctor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I now like to proclaim in mock pain...." Ow! My leisure!"  It's a wonderful thing to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Caroline is cutting teeth again. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Sooooo&lt;/span&gt; glad there &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;aren'&lt;/span&gt;t any flights any time soon. We are going to a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;b-day&lt;/span&gt; party though. I think she'll be up for that though. She loves some action.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I'm off. Don't mix leisure with weenies.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1504177785055185631-4179047271458772813?l=momajen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://momajen.blogspot.com/feeds/4179047271458772813/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1504177785055185631&amp;postID=4179047271458772813' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1504177785055185631/posts/default/4179047271458772813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1504177785055185631/posts/default/4179047271458772813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://momajen.blogspot.com/2008/09/leisure-is-dangerous-to-your-health.html' title='Leisure is dangerous to your health'/><author><name>Jen Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12638600713983035484</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SDodAI4Fi-I/AAAAAAAAAAY/s9qP6EV-jvA/S220/DSCF0358.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SMwjoeJYy0I/AAAAAAAAAHk/-hHuC-aVa10/s72-c/Thriller_Video_Clip-thumb.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1504177785055185631.post-6644440902428590987</id><published>2008-09-06T10:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-06T10:31:49.854-07:00</updated><title type='text'>To Bee or Not to Bee</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;First, I must tell you about the greatest cereal ever. Post Trail Mix Crunch. Oh, how I love you, Mr. Post for creating such deliciousness.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Caroline had daycare this week. She LOVED it!!!! It was sooo cute. She was so happy to go back the next day ( she's only doing Thursdays and Fridays). The girls up there are so sweet and it's not just a daycare....they are trained preschhol teachers and do a lot of develpmental stuff. We are so happy with it. And the best part is that you can tell that Caroline really has a good time there!! She is so content and happy when we pick her up. It just warms me heart.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;School os going fine. I always miss my old kids so much this time of year though. Several have come by to visit...it's amazing how quickly they grow up over the summer.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Not much going on this weekend. Just gonna relax. And go to Wal-MArt which is the opposite of relaxing. But Bing wants a mini-gas grill. He took the boat out yesterday all by himslef and had an incredible day of sunning and just relaxing on the lake. He has now decided ( which leads to obsession) that he needs a boat grill because " we gotta grill weenies on the boat!". The world will not spin just right until he gets his weenie grill. So, off to Wal Mart on a Saturday we go.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I really want an apiary. And one of those outfits of course. I could plant all sorts of delcious flowers around the hive for my sweet bees. I can;t wait to get some land one day. I don't think I'll have time to work cuz taking care of my bees, goats, cow, donkey, dogs, rabbit, chickens, rooster, cabybara, and Caroline will be a full time job. Guess I need ot start buying lottery tickets.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here is me in 10 years.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242961697238810690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SMK94p7mAEI/AAAAAAAAAHU/3yzG2AxLRV4/s320/bee+beard.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1504177785055185631-6644440902428590987?l=momajen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://momajen.blogspot.com/feeds/6644440902428590987/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1504177785055185631&amp;postID=6644440902428590987' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1504177785055185631/posts/default/6644440902428590987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1504177785055185631/posts/default/6644440902428590987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://momajen.blogspot.com/2008/09/to-bee-or-not-to-bee.html' title='To Bee or Not to Bee'/><author><name>Jen Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12638600713983035484</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SDodAI4Fi-I/AAAAAAAAAAY/s9qP6EV-jvA/S220/DSCF0358.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SMK94p7mAEI/AAAAAAAAAHU/3yzG2AxLRV4/s72-c/bee+beard.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1504177785055185631.post-4533395719667222686</id><published>2008-09-02T18:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-02T18:24:49.107-07:00</updated><title type='text'>baby + rabbit= always cute</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SL3lGnJQocI/AAAAAAAAAHM/iA7unEr9vII/s1600-h/DSCF0028.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241597443078922690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SL3lGnJQocI/AAAAAAAAAHM/iA7unEr9vII/s320/DSCF0028.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Yes, I know. It's ridiculous. Both the cuteness quotient and the immensity that is Astronaut Jones. They love each other. SOoooooooooo cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so glad Gustav wasn;t as bad as it was gonna be. Moma said that Monroe was getting hammered...they haven't had power since yesterday. All the Energy people went down South to be there to help out..now North La is being inundated. But they're all fine. They even cancelled school today and tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School started today. I always miss my old students so much the first day of a school year. I always think " these kids won't be as much fun"....but of course, I get attached to them after a while ( some take more time than others  ;)   )&lt;br /&gt;I always start off with this activity where the kids  answer questions about me using stuff they've heard or from what they have observed of the classroom. One of the questions I always ask is " Do you think Mrs. Smith will be a hard teacher? WHy or why not?"&lt;br /&gt;I usually get stuff like " No...she  seems too nice" or " Yes but she will be nice about it"...things like that. But a kid named Izzy said this today-&lt;br /&gt;" yes, I think you're gonna be hard."&lt;br /&gt;Why?&lt;br /&gt;And with a sweet seriousness he replied...." Cuz I can't understand the way you talk...."&lt;br /&gt;Haha.....I told them they would be picking up my accent in less than a week. happens every year.&lt;br /&gt;Hope y'all are dry and have power. And are not underneath a large oak tree. And by underneath, I mean supporting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1504177785055185631-4533395719667222686?l=momajen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://momajen.blogspot.com/feeds/4533395719667222686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1504177785055185631&amp;postID=4533395719667222686' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1504177785055185631/posts/default/4533395719667222686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1504177785055185631/posts/default/4533395719667222686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://momajen.blogspot.com/2008/09/baby-rabbit-always-cute.html' title='baby + rabbit= always cute'/><author><name>Jen Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12638600713983035484</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SDodAI4Fi-I/AAAAAAAAAAY/s9qP6EV-jvA/S220/DSCF0358.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SL3lGnJQocI/AAAAAAAAAHM/iA7unEr9vII/s72-c/DSCF0028.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1504177785055185631.post-2392758853904582423</id><published>2008-08-28T19:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-28T20:00:53.386-07:00</updated><title type='text'>That belly ain't going nowhere.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SLdi0mu5JzI/AAAAAAAAAHE/6WJr6jLRMbU/s1600-h/sumo-kid.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239765347358811954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SLdi0mu5JzI/AAAAAAAAAHE/6WJr6jLRMbU/s320/sumo-kid.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I chose this picture to share with you  for three reasons:&lt;br /&gt;1) Is is strangely wonderful.&lt;br /&gt;2) I feel like that little kid with school starting. School being an obese but oddly athletic adversary wearing diapers and a simultaneously apathetic and piteous look upon its face.&lt;br /&gt;3) Caroline has started a sumo phase.&lt;br /&gt; Now you're probaly thinking...oh, I get it...fat baby...sumo. Caroline is anything but fat...remember she is a teeny lil thing. But she is working that belly. And she has started this "Ay!!"...you know the sharp Japenese "ayyy!". She does it over and over again at full attention. She thinks it's real funny. And she is correct.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No day care this week!  I got confused...it opens next week. Bing's Uncle Brockett passed away this week from liver cancer so Bing flew out for the funeral ( everybody is doing well). SO, since there was no daycare and I had to go to Teacher Nonsense Day, I had to get a babysitter for a 8 hour stretch. We were so nervous....we have used two of my 8th graders for short stints before but never for this long. It went great though! Caroline worked that poor girl to death. Play,play,play!!! Alllllll day! No naps for her!     Ha! She knew she had a sucker on the line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thankfully, i don't have to go in tomorrow and have Labor Day off...then the onslaught begins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bing said he heard one of the best things ever today, driving down to the wake with his mom one of his uncles. As they're driving through Virginia, his uncle exclaims..." Oh look! A subdivision with mobile homes." It was quite new to him...the nuance of a trailer park. Yes, what a striking idea.    What rare breed thought of that assemblage?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like there was something else I was gonna tell you.&lt;br /&gt;Oh well...for another day I suppose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good night!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1504177785055185631-2392758853904582423?l=momajen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://momajen.blogspot.com/feeds/2392758853904582423/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1504177785055185631&amp;postID=2392758853904582423' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1504177785055185631/posts/default/2392758853904582423'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1504177785055185631/posts/default/2392758853904582423'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://momajen.blogspot.com/2008/08/that-belly-aint-going-nowhere.html' title='That belly ain&apos;t going nowhere.'/><author><name>Jen Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12638600713983035484</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SDodAI4Fi-I/AAAAAAAAAAY/s9qP6EV-jvA/S220/DSCF0358.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SLdi0mu5JzI/AAAAAAAAAHE/6WJr6jLRMbU/s72-c/sumo-kid.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1504177785055185631.post-5638763461453375672</id><published>2008-08-25T18:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-25T18:55:41.373-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Last day of  freedom</title><content type='html'>Ugghhh. Back to school tomorrow. Not for students, but for teacher training. Uggggghhhh. Remember the teacher from Charlie Brown? That's all I hear at those meetings. Seriously. Teachers.  Funny thing is that I have a 2 hour presentaion/training that I have to do tomorrow. The deaf leading the Charlie Brown teachers. Haha. But at least I'm incorporating Lynard Skynard into my lesson. Seriously.&lt;br /&gt;If they're gonna make me teach for 2 hours to a bunch of teachers, I'm gonna turn it up, man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bing is so nervous about Caroline starting daycare Thursday. It's cute. It's a GREAT daycare run by teachers for teachers ( the preschool kind, the cute, high pitched ones). He is just nervous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;not much going on. Just thought I would check in.&lt;br /&gt;Things learned today:&lt;br /&gt;Babies love harmonicas.&lt;br /&gt;Biscuits are infinitely delicious.&lt;br /&gt;Women wallets are hard to find.&lt;br /&gt;Adios.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1504177785055185631-5638763461453375672?l=momajen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://momajen.blogspot.com/feeds/5638763461453375672/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1504177785055185631&amp;postID=5638763461453375672' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1504177785055185631/posts/default/5638763461453375672'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1504177785055185631/posts/default/5638763461453375672'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://momajen.blogspot.com/2008/08/last-day-of-freedom.html' title='Last day of  freedom'/><author><name>Jen Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12638600713983035484</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SDodAI4Fi-I/AAAAAAAAAAY/s9qP6EV-jvA/S220/DSCF0358.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1504177785055185631.post-7077760082414076188</id><published>2008-08-22T20:13:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-22T20:36:55.140-07:00</updated><title type='text'>raawwwwrrrrrr!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SK-AnmySyQI/AAAAAAAAAG0/uabL4ybjF_g/s1600-h/DSCF0032.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237546309569923330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SK-AnmySyQI/AAAAAAAAAG0/uabL4ybjF_g/s320/DSCF0032.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Caroline has started a new thing where she growls real loud then bites Popa on the nose. At first, she was coy about it and cute. Then the tigress came out and we couldn't tell if she was mad or really getting into to playing " bite the nose as hard as you can". We decided we shouldn't egg this game on since she starts daycare next week. I feel sure Caroline doesn't want to be the Bitin' Kid. ;) So.....that game is over. Rawwwwwwr! Crunch!&lt;br /&gt;Moma and Pop just left last night. It was a great visit. I always get so sad when they leave though.Count your blessings if you live near your family...seeing them 3-4 times a year is not the best.   They had a great time seeing Miss Thang and of course she was hamming it up, literally and figuratively. Apparently, Caroline's wet diaper smells like ham. Moma kept smelling ham from time to time and figured out it was Caroline. Now, she said she would get lovesick for Caroline every time she smelled ham. Hahaha. yes, the apple ( being me) does not fall far from the crazy tree ( being Moma). ;) But it is true.  Caroline is a little hambone.&lt;br /&gt;Pop went on a ride along with Bing...his yearly highlight of the trip up here. It was a really slow night and they didn't get into anything till a stabbing at the end. it was funy to hear Pop tell the story....of course, Bing saved the day. :)  And apparently, Pop made a friend of a smoking, wandering crackhead. Making friends meaning Pop glared at a crackhead and begrudgingly gave up one of his cigarettes upon asked.    This just after Bing had let the guy off with a warning ( he had been wandering in and out of traffic). Upon sharing the cigarrette and the glare...the crackhead started screaming " Whatchu lookin' at? Whatch lookin' at? WHATCHU  LOOKIN' AT???". Pop then rolled his eyes and walked back to the car. HHAHAHAHAA...I would have loved to have seen that. For those of you who don't know my father...I can assure you this was a very entertaining scene to behold.&lt;br /&gt;We took the boat out the last day. Of course, the temp dropped about 15 degrees as soon  as we got out on the lake. Then the monsoon began. Oh, how I love the weather out here. Poor Moma and POp were troopers though. me and Moma just laughed hysterically on the way back in, getting more and more drenched.  Pop said that for next summer's boat trip he would be sure to bring his waders, and neoprene survival suit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SK-AoNT1VZI/AAAAAAAAAG8/H_rclQNckN4/s1600-h/DSCF0039.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237546319911146898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SK-AoNT1VZI/AAAAAAAAAG8/H_rclQNckN4/s320/DSCF0039.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I guess the time has come for me to start getting school stuff ready. We start teacher meetings Tuesday. Arrrggh...more mindless drivel that goes on and on and on.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Well, Margaret actually called me. Finally. She was offended at my story about her peeing in the Mazda. She said she would have never had peed in a Mazda. It was a Nissan. I stand corrected.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I bid you adieu, farewell.... good nigthy night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1504177785055185631-7077760082414076188?l=momajen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://momajen.blogspot.com/feeds/7077760082414076188/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1504177785055185631&amp;postID=7077760082414076188' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1504177785055185631/posts/default/7077760082414076188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1504177785055185631/posts/default/7077760082414076188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://momajen.blogspot.com/2008/08/raawwwwrrrrrr.html' title='raawwwwrrrrrr!!!'/><author><name>Jen Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12638600713983035484</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SDodAI4Fi-I/AAAAAAAAAAY/s9qP6EV-jvA/S220/DSCF0358.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SK-AnmySyQI/AAAAAAAAAG0/uabL4ybjF_g/s72-c/DSCF0032.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1504177785055185631.post-6421702046179374557</id><published>2008-08-17T09:55:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-17T11:11:01.468-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Day of Urine and Atonement</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;The people of Seattle are still sweating. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, my blog will focus on the wonderful and sometimes inconvenient properties of our dear friend, urine.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now, before I started to write this blog, I did look up some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;synonyms&lt;/span&gt; of urine. But I got sidetracked on a wonderful &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;etymology&lt;/span&gt; website that focused on children;s words for pee and poop. That's right. Other people are thinking about these things too. You know what's great? &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Sooooo&lt;/span&gt; many different languages all around the world call urine "pee pee" and poop " &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;caca&lt;/span&gt;" and "poo-poo". All of them spelled a bit differently..but basically the same. Isn't that funny? It's not like they make those sounds when coming out. You would think their would be more names like " &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;pzzzzz&lt;/span&gt;", " &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;whissssshhh&lt;/span&gt;", "plop" and " &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;doi&lt;/span&gt;-ink". &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I did not find anyone else that calls their grandmother PP, though. That is unique to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Becton&lt;/span&gt; girls.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Back to urine. Yet another reason I am so glad Caroline is a pretty baby girl. If I had more misfires to clean, I don't know what I would do with myself. now, you know my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Bingbear&lt;/span&gt; is the best man in the world. But the man cannot hit the toilet to save his life. Really, how hard is it? This has been an ongoing joke in the house for years, he simply laughs it off. Now, you're thinking " Poor man! He works all night...protecting the streets from villains and has to come home to the old &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;battle axe&lt;/span&gt; fussing about &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;peepee&lt;/span&gt;!" Good point mind you, but the man &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;outshoots&lt;/span&gt; everybody at the range. And the hole in the toilet is much bigger than the the center of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;bullseye&lt;/span&gt;. Perhaps there is a constant &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;southeasterly&lt;/span&gt; breeze in each of our bathrooms.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Upon writing this, my lovely daughter just woke up all smiles and giggles with about 2.3 gallons of pee in her diaper. Now, again, I ask you...how does this happen? The child is only about 2.5 gallons big. What a cute little pee bucket. I love that little girl!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ( and I love my sweet Pee Freighter too, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;Popa&lt;/span&gt; Bear!!!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, one more pee story. I do apologize of this is horrible and offensive reading. Wait, no I don't. Pee is very important and must be talked about for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;society&lt;/span&gt; to progress. Poo too , as goes without saying. Don't even get me started on pooh. The San Diego zoo recycles TONS of herbivore pooh every week into &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;fertilizer&lt;/span&gt;. You can even call &lt;strong&gt;1-800-i-luv-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;doo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; for pooh fertilizer from zoos across the nation. Really, that's the real phone number.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;....my story. If you read the last post, you will remember that I will continue to write &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;embarrassing&lt;/span&gt; stories about my sister till she actually calls me back. You can only guess it will be about urine. And you are right.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now, we &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;Becton&lt;/span&gt; girls love life and love laughing. We often love life and laugh so hard that we pee our pants. Inconvenient, yes. Shameful, no. At least to us. It's more like a badge of honor. We must have really been having fun to pee our pants.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, when Grit was about 15, she and her buddy decide to skip class. They go out to the car and get real &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;tickled&lt;/span&gt; about something and end up both peeing their pants. They could not get out of the car in time, and the seats were rendered full. Well, her friend, who is not the sharpest tool in the shed, suggested they go to the car wash and wash out the car. Now, Grit is a strange mix of genius-like cleverness and something else that can't quite be defined. But is quite the opposite of her clever side. So they go to the car wash in the middle of November and wash out the inside of her Mazda, all the time her friend assuring her it would dry out quickly. I mean suds, and brushes, and the high pressure hose and everything. After all this WAS a car wash.. Now, it being late fall, it had begun to get chilly. On the way home, the drenched interior began to form ice crystals on the inside of the windshield. So, they both stuck their heads out the window and drove home.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Since this happened in Louisiana, you will know that a cool late fall leads to a hot humid winter, Isn't that the way seasons are everywhere? In a few days, the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;urinesickles&lt;/span&gt; melted and gave way to a most foul, hot, mildewy stench that would be her copilot for the rest of her Mazda driving days. Her badge of honor had evolved into something quite &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;unhonorable&lt;/span&gt;. Luckily, she is a brat and was soon awarded a brand new Jeep from our parents.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now, I leave you with a pic of one of our dual Badge moments in Canada in a hotel room. You will see we had the best intentions, but alas there was only one toilet. So, we simply fell to the floor in fits of laughter and waves of pee. It was a proud moment for us both. A good night of living and loving life, indeed.&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235549742783234514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SKhowH57gdI/AAAAAAAAAGs/XRNqbQj92uA/s320/teetee.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1504177785055185631-6421702046179374557?l=momajen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://momajen.blogspot.com/feeds/6421702046179374557/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1504177785055185631&amp;postID=6421702046179374557' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1504177785055185631/posts/default/6421702046179374557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1504177785055185631/posts/default/6421702046179374557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://momajen.blogspot.com/2008/08/day-of-urine-and-atonement.html' title='A Day of Urine and Atonement'/><author><name>Jen Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12638600713983035484</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SDodAI4Fi-I/AAAAAAAAAAY/s9qP6EV-jvA/S220/DSCF0358.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SKhowH57gdI/AAAAAAAAAGs/XRNqbQj92uA/s72-c/teetee.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1504177785055185631.post-2020836607844345619</id><published>2008-08-16T08:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-16T09:09:53.962-07:00</updated><title type='text'>3-D Porcelain. Who knew that's how you spell por-ce-lin?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SKb2Wrl2sGI/AAAAAAAAAGc/_ZEryet5jGA/s1600-h/bob-ross.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235142486383833186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SKb2Wrl2sGI/AAAAAAAAAGc/_ZEryet5jGA/s320/bob-ross.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Bob Ross is awesome. And awesome is an overused word, I know. But the man was and is awesome. Thank you for your happy little trees and happy little clouds.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Caroline has started panting. Now, you may think I'm talking about painting as I just mentioned Bob Ross. No...panting. Like a dog. She thinks it's hilarious. Just like Grandpa Boudreaux and Sister Bridger. Now, I'm just waiting for her to hop like Astronaut Jones.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Everbody is FREAKING out in Seattle because it's been in the 90's. It's the lead story everywhere. Nevermind Georgia, the Olympics.........PEOPLE ARE SWEATING IN SEATTLE. Oh, the humanity!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Moma and Pop are coming Monday! i'm so excited. I miss all them crazy folks down there so much. Yippee!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bing got home late last night because somebody firebombed a car. I have an alibi...promise. ;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't really have to much to say this morning. Just that it's a beautiful day and as Momette would say, " It's great to be alive."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I leave you with this:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It has been a hot debate in my parent's house for years and years. In the Orwellian year of 1984, Big Brother was NOT watching...and somebody wiped a booger on the bathtub. I knew it was Margaret. She, however, blamed it alternately on me and Pop....never pointing the finger at Moma. I still do not know why Moma was excluded from the booger blame game. Now, as you can imagine, I took great relish in letting Margaret know that I knew it was her. Staunch and stoic, she never gave in. Until this summer, when once again the Booger on the Bathtub of 1984 was brought up one last time and was finally laid to rest. Margaret accepted full responsibilty. The Booger was Hers.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is the first of embarrassing stories of my lovely sister that I will share with you. Unless she wants to call me back or email me sometime. Really, it's pathological how badly this girl returns communications. Love you, Booger Wiper of 1984!!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235147938060191490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SKb7UAqyRwI/AAAAAAAAAGk/nww_3Cy2Mc8/s320/pet_bathtub_pet_bath_pet_tub_pet_bath_tub_dog_bathtub_cat_bathtub_pet_products_pet_items_pet_goods_pet_supply.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&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/1504177785055185631-2020836607844345619?l=momajen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://momajen.blogspot.com/feeds/2020836607844345619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1504177785055185631&amp;postID=2020836607844345619' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1504177785055185631/posts/default/2020836607844345619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1504177785055185631/posts/default/2020836607844345619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://momajen.blogspot.com/2008/08/3-d-porcelain-who-knew-thats-how-you.html' title='3-D Porcelain. Who knew that&apos;s how you spell por-ce-lin?'/><author><name>Jen Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12638600713983035484</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SDodAI4Fi-I/AAAAAAAAAAY/s9qP6EV-jvA/S220/DSCF0358.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SKb2Wrl2sGI/AAAAAAAAAGc/_ZEryet5jGA/s72-c/bob-ross.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1504177785055185631.post-8371345234040075068</id><published>2008-08-13T15:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-13T15:54:23.479-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Silly bed....and swim day</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SKNk_D3DNLI/AAAAAAAAAGE/QJDAnTKOS1Y/s1600-h/DSCF0026.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234138226465387698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SKNk_D3DNLI/AAAAAAAAAGE/QJDAnTKOS1Y/s320/DSCF0026.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SKNkzSUJLrI/AAAAAAAAAF8/TJaVBLTtSjU/s1600-h/untitled.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234138024187080370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="244" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SKNkzSUJLrI/AAAAAAAAAF8/TJaVBLTtSjU/s320/untitled.bmp" width="166" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I woke up the other night because Caroline was raising a ruckus cuz she was hungry. I sleepily stumbled out of bed and right as I reached for the bedroom door, there's Bing just standing there looking at me like a crazy man, scaring me to death because I hadn;t even heard him get out of bed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;me: " What are you doing??"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bing: " Did you hear it?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;me: " What?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bing, getting slightly annoyed: " You didn't hear the bed?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;me, getting slightly amused: " What? What are talking about?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bing, more annoyed: " Oh, nevermind. The bed was talking about something."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me, more amused. " What did it say?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bing, annoyed but giving in to my stupid question: " Something about getting organized."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me: " Oh, I didn't hear it. Why don't you go back to bed."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bing: " Ok, I Love you.".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hahahahahahaha. That man cracks me up. He does the funniest stuff in his sleep. My favorite was when he woke me up because he had " made me a surprise...raisin bran casserole!" he was so sweet and proud of himself and so pleased to give it to me. Hahahahaha...what a sweetie.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Another Bing story...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bing has taken on a new personality among his many others. Sister Mister.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now this is a take on Mr. Mom cuz he is really great about baby duty and cleaning around the house. He was especially Mr. Mom-like when I was working. it was really cute. The Sister part came in due to a cleaning commercial that Bing saw when I was at work one day. It featured a lady octupus with all eight of her legs busily taking care of her baby and all her chores. After this industrious lady proclaimed that it was hard work being a mom- on-the-go..., Bing said " I feel ya , sister.". Thus, Sister Mister was born.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, Sister Mister was busily cleaning the kitchen the other night. I said " Baby, you don't have to do those dishes....I'll do them."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;To which he replied. " oh, it's ok..i'm not really washing them." Happy as a clam to put away dishes with food still stuck on them. Hahaha.... the little booger. that's why I never let guests set the table..I never know what needs rewashing. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love my Sister Mister. he is the best. He takes such good care of this little family.  he ADORES  his little Caroline. it is so funny to watch those two peas in a pod. Whenever he does something funny, she looks at me like " Did you see that, Moma????"  it is soooo cute. I love you, Bing Bear.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Caroline update: Still getting cuter and cuter. What a hilarious little girl. She has started shaking her head real fast when she gets excited. So cute. Went swimming in the backyard the other day. She had a blast!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234138394660392946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SKNlI2b3T_I/AAAAAAAAAGM/2HDwS9cZcxE/s320/DSCF0037.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234138503697569458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SKNlPMoWlrI/AAAAAAAAAGU/oLZxMsQzuQY/s320/DSCF0042.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Granpa Boudreaux helped get her out of the pool into her "apres swimwear". Sweet Booboo!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1504177785055185631-8371345234040075068?l=momajen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://momajen.blogspot.com/feeds/8371345234040075068/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1504177785055185631&amp;postID=8371345234040075068' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1504177785055185631/posts/default/8371345234040075068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1504177785055185631/posts/default/8371345234040075068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://momajen.blogspot.com/2008/08/silly-bedand-swim-day.html' title='Silly bed....and swim day'/><author><name>Jen Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12638600713983035484</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SDodAI4Fi-I/AAAAAAAAAAY/s9qP6EV-jvA/S220/DSCF0358.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SKNk_D3DNLI/AAAAAAAAAGE/QJDAnTKOS1Y/s72-c/DSCF0026.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1504177785055185631.post-6787291070962064102</id><published>2008-08-08T15:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-09T09:00:44.770-07:00</updated><title type='text'>millions of peaches...peaches for me.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SJ23gFo5DKI/AAAAAAAAAFk/NVAOK_wwcGo/s1600-h/DSCF0034.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232540103971769506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SJ23gFo5DKI/AAAAAAAAAFk/NVAOK_wwcGo/s320/DSCF0034.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Naked baby covered in peaches. Is there anything orange &amp;amp; sticky that is any cuter? I think not.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Finally I'm back home!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I had to go to San Diego for a teacher conference, which was somewhat worthwile but could have been done in an efficent 5.5 hours instead of 4 days. Teachers are extremely ineffecient when they all get together. A sample conversation:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Teacher 1: " Well, we should go with the blue folder."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Teacher 2: " What do you mean 'blue'? Would that denote some kind of sadness for the students?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Teacher 3: " I got sad one time."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Teacher 2: " Sometime my pencil sharpener doesn't work."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Teacher 3: " So, blue it is. Freckles?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Teacher 1: " No, pink would reinforce rigor with our students. Potbellied pigs don't have talons."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm not kidding you. Converstations like this droned on and on and on. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Teachers are very strange for the most part. I would hint that that strangeness was the bad kind, but I would not come out and say it for fear of lyching or even worse...being made to listen to more of their conversations.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now, don't get me wrong...there are some outstanding educators out there. But that doesn't neccessarily mean that they act like normal people in the real world. Ugghhh. I'm glad to be home.I did get to go to the San Diego zoo though. It was really nice. I have always wanted to go there ever since I was little and Pop went there on a business trip and cam home raving about it. ALL of the monkeys reminded me of Caroline...every time I saw one, it made my heart hurt. I could actualy feel it cracking!! Everbody was represented at the zoo. I missed my little monkey ( caroline), bear ( Bing), wart hog ( Bridger- sorry, but it really looked like you, Bridger- it was very cute), tiger( Boudreaux) and capybara ( Jones). &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;By the way...I REALLY need a capybara. I mean, REALLY need.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232542469482782594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SJ25px2qn4I/AAAAAAAAAFs/-dO5S3T9c7Y/s320/capybara.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Which I must add to my list. One day, we'll get a bit of land....I'm thinking 5 ares minimum.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We will have: countless dogs, one cat, one rabbit, one donkey, at least 3 goats named after English prime ministers, a jersey cow, one pig, a pond of various swimming creatures and a henhouse populated by a great big rooster named Ignacio and his harem of Afro chickens ( Crested Polish...they really exist.)&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232544479545363586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SJ27ex67jII/AAAAAAAAAF0/Oln5ttF02kQ/s320/poultrywebblkcrestpolish122.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Oh, and I will be needing both an aviary and an apiary. Both very seperate from each other in location.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bing and Caroline survived quite well without me. Bing is such a good Popa. They are two peas in a pod. Soooooo cute. When Bing picked me up at the airport, Caroline was in the back chewing on some flowers she got me! they were both so excited to see me...it just melted my heart. It was late and Caroline was tired but she stayed up the whole way home laughing and playing with me ( I sat in the back, much to Bing's dismay/ cute "jealousy"). The dogs and Jones were happy to see me too but you could tell that Popa took real good care of everybody while I was gone.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, only 2 more weeks before school starts . The kids don;t come back till after Labor Day but I have to go in for " teacher training" Which means more endless conversations about "&lt;em&gt;rigor&lt;/em&gt;"...the new favorite buzzword in education. " &lt;em&gt;Students need more rigor&lt;/em&gt;." " &lt;em&gt;there needs to be more rigor in the classroom&lt;/em&gt;". Needless to say, the infinite droning about rigor only leads to rigor mortis. Stupid rigor. Who even came up with that word? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, gotta go. It's raining outside ( BIG SURPRISE!), so I'm gonna get some Olympics in before Caroline wakes up. I love the Olympics. The opening ceremony was crazy though. It was tooooo long and too over the top. They spent millions of dollars trying to be so techno and even focused on an " one world, one environment" deal. It just seemed so hypocritical on the environmental  stance and the humanatarian side too. I just kept thinking of all those poor earthquake victims and how just a little of that  money and effort put into that opening cermony could have been steered their way. yeah, yeah...I know. I should get off my soap box. But I just thought it was tacky. Greece did it way better last round and spent millions less. But, the Parade of Nations was great as always. I  love seeing all the atheletes from different parts of the world and how they are dressed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Vaya con Dios, little chickies....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1504177785055185631-6787291070962064102?l=momajen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://momajen.blogspot.com/feeds/6787291070962064102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1504177785055185631&amp;postID=6787291070962064102' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1504177785055185631/posts/default/6787291070962064102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1504177785055185631/posts/default/6787291070962064102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://momajen.blogspot.com/2008/08/millions-of-peachespeaches-for-me.html' title='millions of peaches...peaches for me.'/><author><name>Jen Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12638600713983035484</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SDodAI4Fi-I/AAAAAAAAAAY/s9qP6EV-jvA/S220/DSCF0358.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SJ23gFo5DKI/AAAAAAAAAFk/NVAOK_wwcGo/s72-c/DSCF0034.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1504177785055185631.post-8222192795516056966</id><published>2008-08-01T18:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-01T18:47:35.032-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rather than a dingo. Get it?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;So.......I have been writing all my recipes down for quite some time now, which I am aware is a VERY old lady thing to do, but I assure you I have made it very snarky and somewhat innapropriate. I am coming upon the time that I will finally print " The Whole Damn Thing- A Cookbook". I have not only recipes but whole diatribes on how you should and could be "livin'" and "livin" well.  I just thought it would be a fun thing to do and Caroline would enjoy having a copy one day.However, there is one part I feel I need a little help on. Wanna help? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have a section on meal preparation and ambiance. I feel I might be a bit narrow on my music suggestions even though I am a genius. And I mean genius, folks. ;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I would love your suggestions. Also, if you have a recipe you want in there with your name, let me know!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Give me an artist, preferably an album, that would be good music for the following:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. Uppity, fancier- than- you- really- are meals&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. Swanky, cooler- than- you-really-are meals&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. Urban, hipper-than-you-really-are&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. Romantic, let's-hurry-up- with-the-meal- meals&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;5. worldy, more-cultured- than-you-really-are meals&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;6. Outside, more-fun- than-you-really-are meals&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;7. Can't decide what kind of meal/ music for all occasions&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;p.s. Sorry, Moma that I said a cussword on my blog again. ( i.e. damn) She got onto me last time because I said butthole ( which to my defense, was the only word I could have used)and " something else..i just can't remember it." Apparently, it was so vile and offensive, she forgot it. Anyways she says this:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;( read this in your sweetest Southern accent possible):&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;" Now, Jen-ferrrrrr....you need to act like a laaaaa-dy. Don't be saying those words on the Internet. Somebody might see that and think you're....well, think you're...... well, just don't say that stuff."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love my sweet Moma...she's a funny lady. Here she is looking like she should be on the cover of a badly written book centering around the mysterious disappearance of her baby. " Alligator got my baby!"&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229729922312874594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SJO7p_KwqmI/AAAAAAAAAFY/FhCb0aR0DaQ/s320/DSCF0031.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1504177785055185631-8222192795516056966?l=momajen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://momajen.blogspot.com/feeds/8222192795516056966/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1504177785055185631&amp;postID=8222192795516056966' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1504177785055185631/posts/default/8222192795516056966'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1504177785055185631/posts/default/8222192795516056966'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://momajen.blogspot.com/2008/08/rather-than-dingo-get-it.html' title='Rather than a dingo. Get it?'/><author><name>Jen Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12638600713983035484</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SDodAI4Fi-I/AAAAAAAAAAY/s9qP6EV-jvA/S220/DSCF0358.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SJO7p_KwqmI/AAAAAAAAAFY/FhCb0aR0DaQ/s72-c/DSCF0031.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1504177785055185631.post-8433280500146100882</id><published>2008-08-01T11:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-01T12:24:04.163-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I would rather Fly Agaric    ;)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SJNgjoMNzzI/AAAAAAAAAFI/D47WbtacA7Y/s1600-h/the+fly.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229629757507620658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SJNgjoMNzzI/AAAAAAAAAFI/D47WbtacA7Y/s320/the+fly.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I write this encased in a organic funnel of buzzing evil. Well, there really not evil. Only roaches are evil...agents of Satan himself, I am sure of it. &lt;strong&gt;But&lt;/strong&gt; these little beezelbugs called the House Fly are driving me insane. Every year about this time, we become to flies what Padre Island is to drunken Texan teenagers. You would think with the sunny warm weather we are having ( NOT!!), that these flies would go elsewhere. But no....they are here. And poor Caroline is looking like something off a " Feed The Children" ad. Which you really should do, you know.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, I am not one for mass killings but this has gotten out of control. Considering flies can carry up to 100 pathogens, I have erected a medievel gauntlet of fly paper and two fly swatters.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I must tell you, I tried other things first. Talking to them did not work. Even after reading the latest on fly pscyhology ( really...many a dissertation exists on fly thoughts), I have been reduced to pesti-cide. So sad. I originally started out with just a rolled up newspaper but apparerntly flies have a very evolved evasion technique and feel the air currents coming before you can get them...thus, the holes in the lethal yet brightly colored fly swatter.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Caroline's dr appt went smashingly. I just love our little doctor. he is so tiny and smiley.....much like a brunette version of the aspriring dentist elf from " Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;************* CHRISTMAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Ooooooooohh!!! It's coming!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!******&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, the doc said she looked great! Which I know of course, but I always love to hear.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;She is still a petite girl...only 14.2 pounds and 25 inches long. SHe is in the 5-10 percentile...which for those of you not in the know.....that means 90-95 % of babies are bigger than she is at this age. But....she is right on target for everything, small or not! She was really showing off her mad sitting skills to the doc. he was way impressed. She had her 3rd set of DTAP boosters and has been a little cranky since but is coming back to her regular self. The doc said we could start her on a sippy cup too!! what a big girl. But, she hasn't quite figured out how to do it yet and when she does, she gives a face like " Water??!! All that for Water??!!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We sold the Colonel yesterday ( &lt;em&gt;our new boat , The Sweet Caroline, is featured on another post&lt;/em&gt;). She went to a very happy family. We even decided they were happy enough to get the custom made bottle opener labeled " Colonel Mustard".  As the new family began to drive off with their new boat, I saw Bing outside the window pat the Colonel on her stern and  heard him wistfully say " You've been a good one, Colonel".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Colonel, may you receive as much love as you have given us. Bon voyage, Colonel Mustard....Bon Voyage.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229630695643775922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 238px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 154px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="154" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SJNhaPBTg7I/AAAAAAAAAFQ/yrbNfH8hjb0/s320/DSCF0001.JPG" width="296" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                                                 The Colonel Mustard&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1504177785055185631-8433280500146100882?l=momajen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://momajen.blogspot.com/feeds/8433280500146100882/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1504177785055185631&amp;postID=8433280500146100882' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1504177785055185631/posts/default/8433280500146100882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1504177785055185631/posts/default/8433280500146100882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://momajen.blogspot.com/2008/08/i-would-rather-fly-agaric.html' title='I would rather Fly Agaric    ;)'/><author><name>Jen Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12638600713983035484</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SDodAI4Fi-I/AAAAAAAAAAY/s9qP6EV-jvA/S220/DSCF0358.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SJNgjoMNzzI/AAAAAAAAAFI/D47WbtacA7Y/s72-c/the+fly.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1504177785055185631.post-7530291749184837425</id><published>2008-07-28T09:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-28T09:16:19.165-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I can't think of a snarky title today. Sorry,folks.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SI3t2o5cR4I/AAAAAAAAAE4/TRCF8NdefPU/s1600-h/DSCF0032.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228096265394079618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SI3t2o5cR4I/AAAAAAAAAE4/TRCF8NdefPU/s320/DSCF0032.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I cannot imagine a cuter Popa than my sweet Bingbear. We went and visited him at work yesterday. He was such the proud Popa and had to get pictures of her in the car, on the car, in a holding cell, and "getting arrested". He is just waiting for the day that she can fit into the onesie that Grit got her that says " My daddy Can Arrest Your Daddy". Hahahaha....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;PLumpkers has been in such great spirits lately. I think those back to back trips really took it out of her and she's finally back to her normal laughing, happy self .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The other day I heard all this commotion coming from the play room. Bing is hollering and laughing " Help! Help! It's everywhere! It's everywhere!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I turn the corner and there is both Caroline and BIng covered in poo. They both were cracking up....but Bing had a bit more panic to his laugh. Poo on knees, poo on backs, poo on elbows, poo on couches, poo on chandeliers. Caroline and Bing were quite proud of this and seemed to be thoroughly enjoying themselves. Hahaha....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We take Caroline to the Dr today for a wellness check. I typed up a list of questions...13 to be exact. I read them to Moma and she kinda giggled a "whoa, my daughter is crazy" giggle. But she did say they were very detailed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, I'm off. I leave you with Fernando Botero. really neat artist.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228098969886357394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SI3wUD6pd5I/AAAAAAAAAFA/_MpofTkqwKY/s320/FernandoBoteroTheFirstLady.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&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/1504177785055185631-7530291749184837425?l=momajen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://momajen.blogspot.com/feeds/7530291749184837425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1504177785055185631&amp;postID=7530291749184837425' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1504177785055185631/posts/default/7530291749184837425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1504177785055185631/posts/default/7530291749184837425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://momajen.blogspot.com/2008/07/i-cant-think-of-snarky-title-today.html' title='I can&apos;t think of a snarky title today. Sorry,folks.'/><author><name>Jen Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12638600713983035484</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SDodAI4Fi-I/AAAAAAAAAAY/s9qP6EV-jvA/S220/DSCF0358.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SI3t2o5cR4I/AAAAAAAAAE4/TRCF8NdefPU/s72-c/DSCF0032.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1504177785055185631.post-2976043385867015857</id><published>2008-07-25T11:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-25T11:36:47.332-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Decaying jackal, anyone?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;" Somebody better get that rocking chair out of the sky. Especially for Cornflake."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;That's what Mr. Rogers just said.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Caroline is taking a nap and I actually came inside to watch my show. I never realized as a child that Lady Elaine might be the scariest puppet I have ever seen. Why is her nose so red? And not just normal red. Like crazy entrails red. Like she's been out pecking at carrion with the vultures.&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227017902000924434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SIoZFoNfZxI/AAAAAAAAAEg/j0R8FOKCh5w/s320/elaine.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Maybe she's just a hard drinnker. I also think she might be a man. Gender Confusion can definitely lead a puppet down Vodka Alley.         I shouldn't pick on her. She's actually having an exibit right now of Covers. Yep. All kinds of covers for stools. That crazy cracker puppet, Cornflake, was particularly proud of his entry for a stool cover. It was a diaper. A diaper on a stool. Get it?? I LOVE THIS SHOW!!!!!!!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I just realized I said actually twice already. My sister is the "Actually" queen. SHe said she didn't know how much she was saying it until the following conversation with her 2 year old daughter.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Margaret, my sis: " I sure do love you. Do you love me?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Annabella, my niece: ".......( pause for silence).....Actually, no."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Margaret said she wanted to try to cut down on actual-ization in her vocab. I said well, just don't say it. But she said she needed a word with more than two syllables to make her sound smarter in conversations. I told her to try " verily, I say unto you". She said no thanks. Actually,no.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Took Caroline out for her maiden voyage on her namesake yesterday. We had a lot of fun and she loves boating! Although with her life vest on she moves lake Randy off " A Christmas Story" in his snowsuit.&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227019767667566210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SIoayOXFJoI/AAAAAAAAAEo/WSeoMQQdiSo/s320/DSCF0030.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;She even caught a fish!&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227020317929217154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 166px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 107px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="107" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SIobSQPrnII/AAAAAAAAAEw/aqObSEXtz1U/s320/DSCF0046.JPG" width="273" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Well, they got the rocking horse out of the sky.  Cornflake can go back to his dumpster divin' now or wherever he gets those diapers for those stools. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;oK. Back to pretending to be an adult. I'm gonna go clean the house or something old like that.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1504177785055185631-2976043385867015857?l=momajen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://momajen.blogspot.com/feeds/2976043385867015857/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1504177785055185631&amp;postID=2976043385867015857' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1504177785055185631/posts/default/2976043385867015857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1504177785055185631/posts/default/2976043385867015857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://momajen.blogspot.com/2008/07/decaying-jackal-anyone.html' title='Decaying jackal, anyone?'/><author><name>Jen Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12638600713983035484</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SDodAI4Fi-I/AAAAAAAAAAY/s9qP6EV-jvA/S220/DSCF0358.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SIoZFoNfZxI/AAAAAAAAAEg/j0R8FOKCh5w/s72-c/elaine.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1504177785055185631.post-1744735619134394061</id><published>2008-07-23T18:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-23T19:23:46.191-07:00</updated><title type='text'>And now I will ramble once again</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just found the phone in the fridge. Yep.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Did you know that dragonfly larvae travel by anal jet propulsion? Yep. They fart through the water. How awesome is THAT? One of my fave science facts I thought I'd share with you. I tried to find a picture of it for you but alas the sphincter of a small aquatic invertebrate is either hard to capture on film or there is no demand for it. I can hardly imagine that there is no demand.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have professed my love of Mr. Rogers already in a post. Since then, Caroline and I have made it a part of our routine when we aren't painting the town red. 10:30 on PBS right after Teletubbies ( which I love and think is absolute genius and only wish was more acceptable for adults to watch by themselves  and squeal in delight by themselves).     Today, Mr. Roger's phone rang. It was that crazy sideburned  mailman, Mr. McNeely, calling and the conversation went like this:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;" Hello?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;" Oh, just singin' and shellin' peas."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;" Egg rolls and Eva Kwon? She's at the market?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"We'll be right there."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;You can only imagine my excitement at that phone call. Is there purer bliss than singin' and shellin' peas? I think not.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Charlane sent me this pic today.&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226395499156157986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 209px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 175px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="235" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SIfjBA7nNiI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/f2dRRKE9l6g/s320/roman-statue-elvis.jpg" width="233" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;It's an Egpytian statue circa 2 A.D. . Look like anyone??? I'd like to think that was the first appearance of The King. He gyrated back to us in the 20th century and I would like to believe that he will come a third time, bringing peace and harmony to the masses. A hunka, hunka, hunka burnin' love for each of us.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;We were watching the news today and they announced that Safeco stadium would have peanut free zones at two of their baseball games in August. I got real fired up. Perhaps you think I am an activist for the peanut allergy laden. Perhaps you think I thought it was really ridiculous and went on a tirade about it. Either thought is a bit embarassing. Anyways, afterwards, Bing said " you gonna blog about it?" Hahaha.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Caroline is very sleepy today. I can really feel her little bottom tooth poking out. She continues to love deep voice singing. Bing has taken to singing " Ol Man River" &amp;amp; " Swing Low, Sweet Chariot" to her in his deepest voice. She gets beside herself. It is so cute. Apparently, deep voices are also very, very loud according to Bing. I can only imagine what the neighbors think about us. Haha.&lt;/p&gt;We three idiots of Washington are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226398954022994802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SIfmKHUDg3I/AAAAAAAAAEY/7RiAivcMdWY/s320/DSCF0088.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1504177785055185631-1744735619134394061?l=momajen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://momajen.blogspot.com/feeds/1744735619134394061/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1504177785055185631&amp;postID=1744735619134394061' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1504177785055185631/posts/default/1744735619134394061'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1504177785055185631/posts/default/1744735619134394061'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://momajen.blogspot.com/2008/07/and-now-i-will-ramble-once-again.html' title='And now I will ramble once again'/><author><name>Jen Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12638600713983035484</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SDodAI4Fi-I/AAAAAAAAAAY/s9qP6EV-jvA/S220/DSCF0358.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SIfjBA7nNiI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/f2dRRKE9l6g/s72-c/roman-statue-elvis.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1504177785055185631.post-2948624459568764620</id><published>2008-07-22T09:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-22T14:36:35.432-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Apologies to Carcharodon carcharias</title><content type='html'>Regarding the post below this one:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although I do not mind offending trepanning enthusiasts ( let's be honest, they need to lighten up)...I do however feel bad about making our dear friend, the great white, look bad. He should NOT be put in the categories of trepanning and teething infants. My apologies. Great whites are actually  intelligent and  social...there's a really interesting article in Smithsonian (&lt;a href="http://www.smithsonianmag.com/science-nature/great-white-sharks.html"&gt;http://www.smithsonianmag.com/science-nature/great-white-sharks.html&lt;/a&gt;  ) . I love sharks....they get such bad press...and I succumbed to the bad shark joke. I actually feel bad. Sharks, if you are reading this...I really would swim with you. And if you bit me by mistake or curiousity I would not hold it against you. But, I really probaly don't taste good. Too many diet cokes and beef pho. Also, I love lemons. I  may be a bit on the sour side.&lt;br /&gt;Again, my apologies.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1504177785055185631-2948624459568764620?l=momajen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://momajen.blogspot.com/feeds/2948624459568764620/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1504177785055185631&amp;postID=2948624459568764620' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1504177785055185631/posts/default/2948624459568764620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1504177785055185631/posts/default/2948624459568764620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://momajen.blogspot.com/2008/07/apologies-to-carcharodon-carcharias.html' title='Apologies to Carcharodon carcharias'/><author><name>Jen Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12638600713983035484</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SDodAI4Fi-I/AAAAAAAAAAY/s9qP6EV-jvA/S220/DSCF0358.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1504177785055185631.post-389116071688218897</id><published>2008-07-21T19:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-21T19:57:42.491-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'll take the sharks.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SIVGMkh3jzI/AAAAAAAAADo/E5KMLPv4fRs/s1600-h/GreatWhite.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225660124411432754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SIVGMkh3jzI/AAAAAAAAADo/E5KMLPv4fRs/s320/GreatWhite.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hmmmmmm.......&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;dressing as a seal and swimming along chum off the coast of South Africa?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;trepanning myself with a rusty screwdriver?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;flying with a teething 7 month old on an almost 6 hour flight?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Uhhhhh...yeah. Don't ever want to do those things. And if I have done them, I never want to do them again. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just got back from Virginia visiting Bing's family...we had a great time and it was awesome showing Miss Caroline off. She was really cute of course, until the flight home, but quickly recovered her cuteness once we landed. It was good to get home...the doggies and Jones were very happy to see us.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225660931203508082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SIVG7iEFp3I/AAAAAAAAADw/o3cAFfZYsGw/s320/DSCF0038.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are things I have learned lately:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. Human beatboxing and fake sneezing will only delay full blown tantrums in infants but will provide some auditory respite.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. People on airplanes will not and do not understand why human beatboxing must be done.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. Liberace is really awesome. He reminds me of Uncle Leonard. And if you were to make a cross of Fred Sanford and SAmmy Davis Jr and turn it into a white woman, it would have been my grandmother, GranEd.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225666852948749122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SIVMUOSLK0I/AAAAAAAAAEI/VM651_eiPhI/s320/liberace.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. Summer is far too short. I love my students but I wish somebody would decide to pay me to alternately stare at the birdfeeder and hang out at the lake. Now that's a career.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;5. It is entirely possible to subsist on Mr. Chuck's barbeque for the rest of your life. To be so lucky.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;6. Although, a pontoon boat would have been fun, a brand new speed boat would be even funner.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Welcome "Sweet Caroline" to the family.....y'all come boating with us!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225665107039473634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SIVKumQ9z-I/AAAAAAAAAEA/Y274spAVJ6A/s320/DSCF0012.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Uh, yeah. That's a 2009, folks. Pissssshhhhhhh ( that's the sounds of your sizzling finger uponst touching our new boat).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Those were the things I learned the past few days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&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/1504177785055185631-389116071688218897?l=momajen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://momajen.blogspot.com/feeds/389116071688218897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1504177785055185631&amp;postID=389116071688218897' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1504177785055185631/posts/default/389116071688218897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1504177785055185631/posts/default/389116071688218897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://momajen.blogspot.com/2008/07/ill-take-sharks.html' title='I&apos;ll take the sharks.'/><author><name>Jen Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12638600713983035484</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SDodAI4Fi-I/AAAAAAAAAAY/s9qP6EV-jvA/S220/DSCF0358.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SIVGMkh3jzI/AAAAAAAAADo/E5KMLPv4fRs/s72-c/GreatWhite.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1504177785055185631.post-8313939244520580018</id><published>2008-07-12T19:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-12T19:53:57.234-07:00</updated><title type='text'>To pontoon or not to pontoon?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;that is the question. We do love the Colonel Mustard but we have been thinking about getting a pontoon boat...it would be much better family boating. But....alas, where would we put such abig boat? I think we're just gonna get a brand new ski boat. haha....there will be room in the open bow for a playpen, you think? ;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here lies Left POinty. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222324265895712194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SHlsQDKd1cI/AAAAAAAAADQ/PHQQ8pGeDXM/s320/DSCF0018.JPG" border="0" /&gt;I contracted out mercenary knomes to guard its tomb. Nobody gets past them...and I mean NOBODY.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Speaking of Left Pointy, my friend Kattina made me a severed finger cake..complete with a scabby bandage made of cream cheese frosting and raspberry preserves. I love my friends....what a bunch of weirdos.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222325021886353282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SHls8Dcrj4I/AAAAAAAAADY/_iKCZTQNZrk/s320/DSCF0043.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;No news on the vegatable front with Caroline yet...Bing has been so busy the past few days and did not want to miss out on sweet potatos and carrots. Tomorrow is the big day...I'll let you know how it goes.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;In the meantime, I leave you with fat little turkey legs. (Which reminds me of a very funny incident involving Bing, smoked turkey legs, Willie Nelson, and no pants. He has not eaten one since. I'm sure Willie has not either.)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222326304487231394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SHluGtgjz6I/AAAAAAAAADg/rQKUQf5n5ds/s320/DSCF0035.JPG" border="0" /&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/1504177785055185631-8313939244520580018?l=momajen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://momajen.blogspot.com/feeds/8313939244520580018/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1504177785055185631&amp;postID=8313939244520580018' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1504177785055185631/posts/default/8313939244520580018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1504177785055185631/posts/default/8313939244520580018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://momajen.blogspot.com/2008/07/to-pontoon-or-not-to-pontoon.html' title='To pontoon or not to pontoon?'/><author><name>Jen Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12638600713983035484</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SDodAI4Fi-I/AAAAAAAAAAY/s9qP6EV-jvA/S220/DSCF0358.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SHlsQDKd1cI/AAAAAAAAADQ/PHQQ8pGeDXM/s72-c/DSCF0018.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1504177785055185631.post-4291658643600742752</id><published>2008-07-10T10:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-10T11:11:16.592-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Finally...summer</title><content type='html'>For us nine-fingered gals, summer don't come too soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's mid JULY and the weather finally got summer-y. It is gorgeous outside. And now that buttholes have stopped being turned inside out and scissors are locked safely away......ahhhhhh. I feel like Kid Rock and Martha Stewart all rolled into one. Which actually is not a pretty picture in the physical sense, but in the dogmatic sense....nirvana. The creative domestications of Martha coupled with the stringy haired don't-give-a-crap-except-for-hanging-out- and- having-fun mantra of Mr. Rock. I'm a cow-boy, baybeeeeeee. I'm even thinking of adopting the whole fedora and Addidas velour pantsuit ala Kid. That man knows a thing or two about proper livin'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bing and Caroline hung out yesterday while Stumpy went and hung out on the lake with Kim at her resort house. Nice, real nice. I had to promise Bing I wouldn;t get in the water...he said I would catch MRSA and the rest of my stump would fall off. Well, I bold faced lied to him and said I wouldn't get in...even going as far to smuggle ziplocs out the house. It was awesome...floating int the sunshine with my double bagged hand. Ziplocs are awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221434742306011682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="217" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SHZDO9kIeiI/AAAAAAAAADA/UJtE70BxE5Y/s320/ziploc.jpg" width="195" border="0" /&gt;And yes, I did tell Bing after the fact. ;) He knows what he married into.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Gonna start Plumpkers on veggies today...I bet that little brat woon't like them. I hope she does. She is definitely getting bigger every day but is still SO tiny! I wish her wellness check was sooner that the end of this month. I want the doctor to tell me how great she's doing. ;) I know she is, but I do so love reaffirmation. I'm good enough, I'm smart enough, and doggone it...people like me.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221437085547361266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SHZFXW0Z8_I/AAAAAAAAADI/RO53LV-TsBw/s320/26407M~Stuart-Smalley-Posters.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Oh, and per Sam...here are 7 things about my sweet, sweet Caroline you may or may not have known.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;1. She burps like Barney from the Simpsons.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;2. Her pinky toes are really long and have very happy exploratory minds of their own.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;3. She loves saying her prayers at night...she gets beside her self. Especially when we sing " Amen".&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;4. She loves doggie kisses.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;5. She LOVES Target.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;6. She smells like boiled peanuts when she needs a bath.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;7. When she is super happy...she sticks out her chin and smiles real big...gumming it up....so we have started calling her "Cheeky Monkey". So cute....it turns Popa into a bag of melted marshmellows every time.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1504177785055185631-4291658643600742752?l=momajen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://momajen.blogspot.com/feeds/4291658643600742752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1504177785055185631&amp;postID=4291658643600742752' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1504177785055185631/posts/default/4291658643600742752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1504177785055185631/posts/default/4291658643600742752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://momajen.blogspot.com/2008/07/finallysummer.html' title='Finally...summer'/><author><name>Jen Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12638600713983035484</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SDodAI4Fi-I/AAAAAAAAAAY/s9qP6EV-jvA/S220/DSCF0358.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SHZDO9kIeiI/AAAAAAAAADA/UJtE70BxE5Y/s72-c/ziploc.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1504177785055185631.post-5512257793033056366</id><published>2008-07-06T19:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-06T19:14:41.637-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Did you ever.......</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SHF7YwcWxJI/AAAAAAAAACw/ZrVQNkTU5Kw/s1600-h/blue%2520steel.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220089108350026898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SHF7YwcWxJI/AAAAAAAAACw/ZrVQNkTU5Kw/s320/blue%2520steel.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Did you ever think there was more to life than being ridiculously good-looking?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, since my hand modeling career has gone down the toilet, I have new hopes in a little woman named Caroline.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;For your pleasure....... &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Blue Steel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220089428889690818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SHF7rai94sI/AAAAAAAAAC4/qnfSw66TrEw/s320/DSCF0005.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;We're currently working on "Magnum".&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1504177785055185631-5512257793033056366?l=momajen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://momajen.blogspot.com/feeds/5512257793033056366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1504177785055185631&amp;postID=5512257793033056366' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1504177785055185631/posts/default/5512257793033056366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1504177785055185631/posts/default/5512257793033056366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://momajen.blogspot.com/2008/07/did-you-ever.html' title='Did you ever.......'/><author><name>Jen Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12638600713983035484</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SDodAI4Fi-I/AAAAAAAAAAY/s9qP6EV-jvA/S220/DSCF0358.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SHF7YwcWxJI/AAAAAAAAACw/ZrVQNkTU5Kw/s72-c/blue%2520steel.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1504177785055185631.post-5378983510228139410</id><published>2008-07-06T07:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-06T16:09:00.777-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Arrrrrgh...me booty. I mean my finger.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SHDiG2tx1MI/AAAAAAAAACg/W6itF3qPe5g/s1600-h/hook_ver1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219920575517021378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SHDiG2tx1MI/AAAAAAAAACg/W6itF3qPe5g/s320/hook_ver1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So....first things first. Boudreaux is doing awesome!!! He cam out fit as a fiddle and doesn;t seem to mind that his butthole was literally turned inside out. The doc got the polyp and will get back to us next week about pathology results. We're not worried though. Booboo is doing great and we're so happy to have him back and taking glorious, shapely poops again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now....to the rest of the week. I still haven;t posted pics from Louisiana...I will soon.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Back to Wednesday...Boudreaux's surgery day. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was a gorgeous day.....something we don't get much of these days. Of course, I was quietly freaking out about Booboo as I am want to do much of the time. Thanks, Moma, for that nifty personality trait. So...I tell Bing " Hey , I'm gonna go garden a bit...get my mind off things". &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And it was working pretty good. The butterflies were aflutter, the phantom sun was happily shining and Astronaut Jones was very happily helping me weed in between snuggle sessions. The Man in Black loves him some snuggling.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;After weeding around the garden beds, I decide to do a little " weed eating" of my own. So, I got my trusty dollar store scissors out and starting trimming up here and there. Now, if you know me...you know I am an excellent multi tasker.....in a very sloppy and clumsy way.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Inner monologue while snipping- " I hope Boudreaux is ok, my panties are going up my butt, I wonder if he will have to stay the... OWWWWWWW!!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;As I interruppt my own soliloquoy ( again, I cannot and will not succumb to speel check on my blog. I do not care if this bothers you) with my plaintive wail , I look down and see blood everywhere. Well, crap, I cut myself again....so, I get up and go inside to bandage my latest mishap ( graceful, I am not).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bing and caroline met me at the back door....upon hearing my "ouch", Bing thought...." wonder what the clutz did now". At first he was smiling when he said "what happened?". My giggly retort of "haha...cut myself again" was not met with the usual sarcastic comment but rather a pallid look of horror and Bing saying " we need to go to the hospital".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mr. Over-reactor, I thought. But it was bleeding quite a bit...so I thought, oh well, guess I should get a couple of stitches. I go upstairs and change while holding a whole roll of blood soaked paper towels. I come down and Bing and Caroline are ready for our field trip. I am still thinking this is hilarious...Bing not so much. He then says, "I think we should take this".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;In his hand was a ziploc bag full of ice and a finger. My finger.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;What? Not the whole thing, mind you...but enough to be like " what the hell??!!! you've got my finger in a bag!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well....long story made shorter. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. They could not sew it back on.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. I could not even look at it in the hospital. You know it's bad when it even grosses out the ER doctor and nurse. However, the dr did commend me for such a nice cleaver like cut.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. No injury is more white trash than cutting your finger off. You never hear of some aristocrat slamming his finger off reaching for his upper crust in the top drawer.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. Carting a baby around in WalmArt while buying Mcdonald's, baby formula, and Vicodin should be the penultimate acme of my white trash career. But I'm sure it will not be.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;5. Sitting around the house with 1)a dog whose butthole was just turned inside out and has a purple bandage completely around his tail, 2) a giant rabbit ,3) another dog so terrified of fireworks that she is more hopped up than I am on drugs, falling down the stairs, and vomiting down Bing's shorts 4) a baby girl who has taken to random screeching cuz that's just real funny in baby world , 5) and a poor husband who helped me bury my finger outside and is still mourning the little digit.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Margaret said I should get attachments for my finger...a hook for scracthing and soemthing else a bit softer for sensitive skin.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Moma printed out a pic of my newly severed hand and cries every time she passes by the pic. Which makes you wonder why she printed it out in the first place. But that's like the kettle calling the pot black, I suppose. Or the crazy calling the crazy crazy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;When I was back home, Moma was so exicited cuz she was gonna get 50 ears of corn from a man down at the farmer's markert for 10 dollars.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;" What you gonna do with 5o ears of corn???"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;" Well, I don't know. But 50 ears of corn for 10 dollars? That's a good deal!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hmmmmm. Here's the pic of my hand and finger. the little black eyed pea thing on my hand is not in fact a pea but my finger before it was interred and sent back to heaven. notice the dirt under my little finger nail. It make me very happy to think of my dirty little finger flying around in the clouds, its little finger halo not quite straight.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;R.I.P. Left Pointy Finger Tip.....&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;You fing-ed real good. Real Good.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Feb 1973-July 2008&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220041598819141970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SHFQLVpgiVI/AAAAAAAAACo/beIU-1zCQno/s320/DSCF0016.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1504177785055185631-5378983510228139410?l=momajen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://momajen.blogspot.com/feeds/5378983510228139410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1504177785055185631&amp;postID=5378983510228139410' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1504177785055185631/posts/default/5378983510228139410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1504177785055185631/posts/default/5378983510228139410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://momajen.blogspot.com/2008/07/arrrrrghme-booty-i-mean-my-finger.html' title='Arrrrrgh...me booty. I mean my finger.'/><author><name>Jen Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12638600713983035484</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SDodAI4Fi-I/AAAAAAAAAAY/s9qP6EV-jvA/S220/DSCF0358.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SHDiG2tx1MI/AAAAAAAAACg/W6itF3qPe5g/s72-c/hook_ver1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1504177785055185631.post-5117592916819529413</id><published>2008-07-02T08:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-02T08:31:38.372-07:00</updated><title type='text'>God is Great</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SGuchICGS_I/AAAAAAAAACY/mIy_nuMLYyw/s1600-h/DSCF0016.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218436686144752626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SGuchICGS_I/AAAAAAAAACY/mIy_nuMLYyw/s320/DSCF0016.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; My sweet Boudreux is having surgery today. He has a rectal polyp that nees to be removed. He has had it for about 3 weeks now...he started bleeding from it pretty bad when we were down in Louisiana. Bing came back early...but it got better once Bing was home.  The vet said we didn;t need to move up the surgery and Booboo was fine for the rest of the time. It was still good that Bing came home though, so he could watch Boudreaux more closely.&lt;br /&gt;The polyp is kinda in a hard to reach spot...they're hoping they can get to it by just basically turning his rectum inside out. If not..he will have to have real surgery that invloves addominal cutting. I am praying that it doesn;t go to that. He is 10 years old and the patriarch of out family. We call him Grandpa. And Grandpa still has a lot of life in him...not many people can handle his energy on walks!!! Boudreaux was even here before Bing was....and he was NOT happy when Bing arrived. He did not like sharing his Moma. But he has definitely grown to love his Popa.&lt;br /&gt;Bridger is already acting pitiful today without Boudreaux....but she'll be OK.  Hopefully he'll be home tonight....the vet said it all depended on the surgery...he may have to stay over night or even a couple of nights.&lt;br /&gt;In the meantime,  Caroline and I are gonna work in the backyard and get his favorite spot all ready for him to relax in.&lt;br /&gt;PLease say a prayer for my sweet Boudreaux.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1504177785055185631-5117592916819529413?l=momajen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://momajen.blogspot.com/feeds/5117592916819529413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1504177785055185631&amp;postID=5117592916819529413' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1504177785055185631/posts/default/5117592916819529413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1504177785055185631/posts/default/5117592916819529413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://momajen.blogspot.com/2008/07/god-is-great.html' title='God is Great'/><author><name>Jen Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12638600713983035484</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SDodAI4Fi-I/AAAAAAAAAAY/s9qP6EV-jvA/S220/DSCF0358.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SGuchICGS_I/AAAAAAAAACY/mIy_nuMLYyw/s72-c/DSCF0016.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1504177785055185631.post-2606177523078575427</id><published>2008-06-17T18:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-17T18:26:16.567-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The More Fruit on the Hat, the Closer to God</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SFhkCf3goiI/AAAAAAAAACQ/x_uw9c0j2cs/s1600-h/DSCF0029.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213026562758189602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SFhkCf3goiI/AAAAAAAAACQ/x_uw9c0j2cs/s320/DSCF0029.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sorry it's been a while....it's been busy!!!!!!! Between dressing like " The Lady with the Fruit on the Hat/ or You Can Call Me Chiquita" , teaching and having fun with my little fmaily...I have been one busy lady.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;PLumkpers is now a gang member. She's been ridin' dirty for a while with ADG. That would be Apple Dumplin' Gang to you folks not in the know. That little gang banger has been hitting the apple rice cereal hard these days. She just can't get enough. It makes her dealers quite proud.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;She has really become a little person here lately. She used to have to "stand" on a Monet art book ( yes, she's very sophisticated...don't look her in the eye) to play in her exer-suacer...now her little feet touch the bottom!! she loves her exersuacer...she's figured how to really manipulate the little thingamajigs on it. It's really cute....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We just had our 8th anniversary! I'd like to say it was nice and quiet...but Plumpkin was probaly the grumpiest she has ever been on that very day. When I cam home from work that day, Bing said that if hadn't have been our anniversary, he would have had to leave and go sit in his little truck down the street and drink. haha....good times.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;But she got over whatever that problem and has been quite the good girl...laughing and playing and eating that cereal like a champ.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;3 MORE DAYS~!!!! yippeee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i am soooooooooooooooo excited!!! then off to Louisiana. Can't wait to have some warmth and sun. Have I mentioned lately that Washington is bleck? A Dio Mio. The sun did come out Sunday though...it was nice. We went for a drive...all piled up in the truck ( Jones stayed behind to watch the house). Picture it....two very grown adults and a baby in a bench seat small truck with two dog heads hanging out each side of the camper window. rainier was gorgeous....it's still my favorite thing about living up here ( a short list but a good list)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My 8th graders had their formal Friday. Those girls spent fortunes on their dresses. Below is a picture of my dress. There were 2 other middle schools at the dance.....my kids were explaining to those kids that "it's ok...that's Mrs. Smith...she's funny." And just like that...alll was right with the world. If only everything could be explained that easily.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SFhgch_UJJI/AAAAAAAAACI/063goemM1xM/s1600-h/DSCF0014.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213022611957884050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SFhgch_UJJI/AAAAAAAAACI/063goemM1xM/s320/DSCF0014.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1504177785055185631-2606177523078575427?l=momajen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://momajen.blogspot.com/feeds/2606177523078575427/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1504177785055185631&amp;postID=2606177523078575427' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1504177785055185631/posts/default/2606177523078575427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1504177785055185631/posts/default/2606177523078575427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://momajen.blogspot.com/2008/06/more-fruit-on-hat-closer-to-god.html' title='The More Fruit on the Hat, the Closer to God'/><author><name>Jen Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12638600713983035484</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SDodAI4Fi-I/AAAAAAAAAAY/s9qP6EV-jvA/S220/DSCF0358.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SFhkCf3goiI/AAAAAAAAACQ/x_uw9c0j2cs/s72-c/DSCF0029.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1504177785055185631.post-8614571337424509114</id><published>2008-06-07T19:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-07T19:43:07.905-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mr. Rogers for President 2008</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SEtEiokkMDI/AAAAAAAAACA/3HxM7yuPiN0/s1600-h/FredRogers_GoldSweater.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5209332755781136434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SEtEiokkMDI/AAAAAAAAACA/3HxM7yuPiN0/s320/FredRogers_GoldSweater.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;one of my favorite stories ever was reading how Koko The Gorilla ( who used sign language) used to love to watch Mr. Rogers. Well, Mr. Rogers heard about it and wonderful man that he was, decided to pay her a visit. She often got jaded with regular visitors but when she saw Mr. Rogers she just started acting like his number one fan, hugging him and signing over and over' " Koko love Mr. ROgers, Koko love Mr. ROgers". He visited with her for a long while, talking and hugging each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get teary just talking about it. Apparently Koko would talk about it till the day she died.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love those two.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plumpkin did a lot better eating cereal today. I sat her in her Bumbo and she actually kinda chewed and swallowed and DID NOT have a screaming fit. Sweet success.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got fish for our pond today. We named them El Jefe, Orangina, D'arbonne, Punk Fish, and Boudreaux the Fish ( bot to be confused with Boudreaux the Dog, Alligator, or Bench). We put them in and they immediately disppeared. We haven;t seen them since. I'm guessing they're magic fish. Perhaps we should have named them Houdini, Siegfired, Roy, David Copperfield &amp;amp; Boudreaux the Magician.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cover of the Seattle Times was "JUNE GLOOM"...they are forescasting this sucky weather for the rest of the month.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luckily, I have a wonderful family or I would go on a shooting rampage. Louisiana in 18 days...sun and warmth, here we come!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1504177785055185631-8614571337424509114?l=momajen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://momajen.blogspot.com/feeds/8614571337424509114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1504177785055185631&amp;postID=8614571337424509114' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1504177785055185631/posts/default/8614571337424509114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1504177785055185631/posts/default/8614571337424509114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://momajen.blogspot.com/2008/06/mr-rogers-for-president-2008.html' title='Mr. Rogers for President 2008'/><author><name>Jen Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12638600713983035484</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SDodAI4Fi-I/AAAAAAAAAAY/s9qP6EV-jvA/S220/DSCF0358.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SEtEiokkMDI/AAAAAAAAACA/3HxM7yuPiN0/s72-c/FredRogers_GoldSweater.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1504177785055185631.post-6054206054299231938</id><published>2008-06-03T18:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T18:51:20.237-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SEXv0rCUhTI/AAAAAAAAAB4/SXsuFPr8Xjk/s1600-h/BerenstainBears.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207832232308540722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SEXv0rCUhTI/AAAAAAAAAB4/SXsuFPr8Xjk/s320/BerenstainBears.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hahaha...this picture is for Grit. hahahaha....we grew up having Moma read is "Berenstein Bears" among other things. Who doesn't love a family of bears living in a the best treehouse ever? I still have my late 70's copy of " Scratch and Sniff Berenstein Bears" . ( You don't actually smell the bears though, which was both good and bad.)That thing still smells!! It shows how papa makes a pizza and you can smell each ingredient. I keep it in my hope chest Bing made me...I still sniff it from time to time. Is that weird?  The mushrooms and garlic are my favorite. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway....margaret has this horrible  phobia of people in mascot uniforms. She just freaks out. Well, one day we're at Books A Million...just perusing books. Imagine a well lit book store....light breezy pop music bopping in the back ground. Then you hear it.....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;shuh...shuh...shuh...shuh..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;what was that?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;you keep walking.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;shuh, shuh, shuh.....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;getting closer. what is that noise?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;SHUH, SHUH, SHUH, SHUH....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We turn around and there right uponst us is.....Mama Bernstein creeping stealthily up in all her giant mascot-costumed glory. Her teddy bear head the size of  a small bathtub. Her big furry slipper feet shuh-shuh-shuh sounding like her own "Jaws" soundtrack.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Margaret jumped straight into the air and did that thing that Wily Coyote always did in mid air---- that running to stand still thing. In my mind she even said " Woomp-woomp-woomp" like Curly from the 3 Stooges.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Needless to say, I had to escort her out of the store. Leaving Moma Berenstein to fend for her own next victim. Shuh, shuh, shuh.........&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bing said Plumpkerstilskin got so tickled today. He said she was on her mat just kinda fussing for fussing sake. He went over to her and said " Pipe down, youngster!" APparently, this is the best baby joke ever. She cracked up and for about 30 minutes - a comedy routine of alternate Popa giggling and " Pipe down youngster" ensued.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The kids were exhausting today. 13 more days!!!! i can't wait for the end of school!!!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love to watch the birds in the backyard. The hummingbirds remind me so much of caroline. So tiny, yet so fiesty.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I would like to smush a magnolia all over my face. I love that smell. And the little yellow things. I used to draw with the purple ends of them. I thought I was so avant-garde. ooh, look at me...I'm drawing with the reproductive parts of a plant. ooh la la. somebody call masur musuem.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I miss magnolias. I want Lady Bird to know all about them. One day!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, I'm off to see the Wizard......hasta luego.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1504177785055185631-6054206054299231938?l=momajen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://momajen.blogspot.com/feeds/6054206054299231938/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1504177785055185631&amp;postID=6054206054299231938' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1504177785055185631/posts/default/6054206054299231938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1504177785055185631/posts/default/6054206054299231938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://momajen.blogspot.com/2008/06/hahaha.html' title=''/><author><name>Jen Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12638600713983035484</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SDodAI4Fi-I/AAAAAAAAAAY/s9qP6EV-jvA/S220/DSCF0358.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SEXv0rCUhTI/AAAAAAAAAB4/SXsuFPr8Xjk/s72-c/BerenstainBears.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1504177785055185631.post-1912165927225497842</id><published>2008-05-30T19:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-30T19:35:52.744-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206362672704579874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="177" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SEC3RC5o6SI/AAAAAAAAABw/3b_L7sYgtxA/s320/DSCF0011.JPG" width="130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SEC1Ge1fveI/AAAAAAAAABo/OiW0EM_Rlio/s1600-h/DSCF0009.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206360292201577954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SEC1Ge1fveI/AAAAAAAAABo/OiW0EM_Rlio/s320/DSCF0009.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Ladybugs love weekends. I do too. Finally!! poor Plumpkers has the sniffles...Popa does too! Somebody is a bigger baby than the other though. haha...and it's not the actual baby. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;dadgummit, i'm gonna grow cucumbers this year. I have never had luck growing those things. They can't be that hard to figure out...but I guess I've focused on other things...but this is the Year of th Cucumber. I will have an English Long, oh yes, I will.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love the way garden hose water smells. I must admit I like the way it tastes too. Not in a chugging way...but rather a appertif sipping way.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;i had a dream I was on the Sopranos last night. It had come back on the air and I was a very spunky outspoken woman of some sorts. And the best thing about it was that Tony was a big fan of mine. He even let me sit in his chaise lounge by the pool and nobody else got to sit there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hahahahaha...Bridger just tooted!!! She gets so mad when she poots...she looked at her butt in disgust and jumped off the couch. hahahahahaha..... Bing once said " farts never cease to be funny". What a wise old sage I am married to. So true, so true.&lt;/div&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Might try to take the colonel out this weekend. It's supposed to be pretty but probaly not.&lt;br /&gt;Iay atehay ashingtonway. That was Pig Latin for all you monoglots.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A little nonsense now and then is relished by the wisest  man. Willy Wonka said that. I still pretend to open my candy bars like I was expecting a golden ticket. Grown woman, Iam...yet I do it still. I slowly peel back the shiny silver wrapper, hoping for that beautiful contrast of where gold meets chocolate. I think if I ever stop doing it, i will have turned miserably old and wretched. I like how wretched is two syllables. But ditched isn't. Unless it was in a  Shakespearean sonnet...then it would be ditch-ed. Which would be awesome. Whitch-ed.&lt;br /&gt;haha....&lt;br /&gt;no big plans for the weekend. i can't wait for caroline to get a bit more mobile...we are gonna have so mcuh fun. maybe she can show me how to get those stupid cucumbers to grow.&lt;br /&gt;hasta luego......&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1504177785055185631-1912165927225497842?l=momajen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://momajen.blogspot.com/feeds/1912165927225497842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1504177785055185631&amp;postID=1912165927225497842' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1504177785055185631/posts/default/1912165927225497842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1504177785055185631/posts/default/1912165927225497842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://momajen.blogspot.com/2008/05/ladybugs-love-weekends.html' title=''/><author><name>Jen Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12638600713983035484</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SDodAI4Fi-I/AAAAAAAAAAY/s9qP6EV-jvA/S220/DSCF0358.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SEC3RC5o6SI/AAAAAAAAABw/3b_L7sYgtxA/s72-c/DSCF0011.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1504177785055185631.post-6749851171262415584</id><published>2008-05-26T14:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-26T14:41:36.320-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Amen!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/%3Ca%20href=" target="_blank" action="'view&amp;amp;current="&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 154px; HEIGHT: 164px" height="495" alt="Photobucket" src="http://i186.photobucket.com/albums/x240/bingjen26/chuck.jpg" width="374" border="0" /&gt; I think I need me some Action Jeans.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever since Turkey's baptism ( May 4th) ( I've included a pic for you perusal), I've been singing " Amen, Amen, Aaaaaamen, Amen, Amen" to her and she just smiles and smiles. It is so funny...she can be in a rotten mood but sing Amen and she is an angel for the duration of the song. Shame it isn't a longer song.&lt;br /&gt;I like that pic cuz it looks like Bing is wearing Caroline on a lanyard. yeah... that's how we roll. heard of soap on a rope? Well, we got baby on a lanyard. &lt;/div&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204798722097384434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 254px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 309px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="199" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SDso3I4Fi_I/AAAAAAAAABg/963rUr9zNYE/s320/DSCF0018.JPG" width="153" border="0" /&gt;I took up more sod today. Heehee. Bing loves it when I say I have sod to take up. Actually, not really.I always start it but he is such a sucker. :) He always comes out and finishes it for me. I am spolied rotten. ;) But I did remind him that it was for more veggies for us this summer. Pretty soon, there will be no sod to take up as the whole backyard will be a garden. No, it won't go that far.....gotta leave room for the doggies to do their thing.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Bing fed Plumpkers rice ceral again.today. A Dio Mio, what a fiasco. Everything I read says wait till they want to eat it. Well, she definately doesn't want to eat it. But the doc said to do it, so we do it. I guess she is getting better. I seem to have more luck than Bing does feeding her, but not much. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Ewww, gotta go back to school again tomorrow. Not too bad though. We're doing our Baby Lab, where the kids do Punnet Squares/probability to decide what a baby might look like between them and their partner. They always have fun with it.I make a big deal about it not being sexual, just a DNA swap, so it's mostly same sex couples. :) Don't want the Jehovah Witnesses after me again. I have one pair, these two adorable boys by the last names of Chmiel and Miller. They combined their names for the last name of their baby: Miel. The full name of their baby: Tastee Miel. heehee...that's why i love 8th graders so much...they are as immature as I am.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1504177785055185631-6749851171262415584?l=momajen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://momajen.blogspot.com/feeds/6749851171262415584/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1504177785055185631&amp;postID=6749851171262415584' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1504177785055185631/posts/default/6749851171262415584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1504177785055185631/posts/default/6749851171262415584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://momajen.blogspot.com/2008/05/amen.html' title='Amen!'/><author><name>Jen Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12638600713983035484</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SDodAI4Fi-I/AAAAAAAAAAY/s9qP6EV-jvA/S220/DSCF0358.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SDso3I4Fi_I/AAAAAAAAABg/963rUr9zNYE/s72-c/DSCF0018.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1504177785055185631.post-3849146315713693172</id><published>2008-05-25T08:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-25T09:18:57.468-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Would you say I have a plethora of pinatas?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 103px; HEIGHT: 73px" height="181" alt="Photobucket" src="http://i186.photobucket.com/albums/x240/bingjen26/kingfisher.jpg" width="306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"When pure men are happy, the universe reveals itself in it's truest splendor." St. Augustine&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SDmGPo4Fi8I/AAAAAAAAAAM/MZx1i7QXNe8/s1600-h/DSCF0010.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204338447632141250" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SDmGPo4Fi8I/AAAAAAAAAAM/MZx1i7QXNe8/s320/DSCF0010.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmmmmm...it might be quite pompous of me to do this. I haven't made up my mind. My dear friend Charlane's is not, however, and I suppose that is why I decided to do this. I do so enjoy catching up with her through her musings.When you live thousands of miles away from friends and family, and if they are the least bit interested in you....perhaps this might be a good thing. Perhaps I am just full of myself this morning. Regardless, I will do it. I have always loved to write both good stuff and not so good stuff. And maybe here is where the twain shall meet. Twain...nobody uses that word anymore. Or twixt. i really like twixt and twain. but if you say them together it sounds like you have a speech impediment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I SHALL ramble. And I shall use fanatical run-on sentences, overuse and underuse proper punctuation and will definately give the proverbial finger to acceptable grammar and spelling. Such is life as I live it. Amen and hallelujah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See this baby? She is cuuuuuttteee!! Bing and I have so much fun with her. She is just the absolute best. She is such a happy baby...smiles all the time. I got her to honest-to -God giggle yesterdday for the first time. it was adorable!! I sang "patty cake" with her and shook her arms real fast when I said" roll it and you roll it.." She thought that was the funniest thing she had ever seen. I, however ,have seen funnier...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told Bing about it when he got up from sleeping....he was so jealous. He grabbed her up and was intent on making her giggle. I was crossing my fingers that she would. He loves that child so much and hates to miss out on anything. He had just said something about our state of financial affairs and told Caroline she needed to go out a get a job. then he started singing a song about if she did get a job, she would still be broke 'cause she didn't have any pockets. Hahaha...both caroline and myslef thought that was hilarious and the giggling began. Bing was so excited. I love to see that man happy...he smiles so big and those sweet eyes get all scrunched up. I sure do love this silly little family. We have lots of fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/%3Ca%20href=" target="_blank" action="'view&amp;amp;current="&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 184px; HEIGHT: 93px" height="110" alt="Photobucket" src="http://i186.photobucket.com/albums/x240/bingjen26/police.gif" width="178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I think this is Bing see himself at work. Heehee. Apparently so do his peeps.....Sarge took him out for coffee the other night and went on and on about what a great cop he was. And Bing also got kudos from the SWAT guys when he had his ACT training ( he was chosen because of his bad-assness to do a special week long SWAT type training.) A buddy of his on SWAT said all the guys were sitting around talking about the training and who sucked/ or was a standout. They all agreed that the "big bald guy with the southern accent" was really good. Bing acted like.."whatever" but you could tell he was so excited .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a long weekend for me. thank God! I should be doing something contructive since Plumpkers is sleeping. Bing calls her " Turkey Dressed as A Baby" I made up a song about it that she really likes. Sometimes she is " Turkey Dressed as a Frog". Haha...wouldn't that be a great kids' book? I have always said that one day I would do that...I have part of one already written. But I'm the queen of half-finished and half-baked ideas. They mostly get done....but it can take a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School is almost out. Then Lousiana bound!! I can't wait to get home and show off PLumperstilstskin. Yes, she hardly ever goes by Caroline....like the rest of our family she has 300 nicknames.&lt;br /&gt;Lady Bird awakens. I must bid adieu.&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;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&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/1504177785055185631-3849146315713693172?l=momajen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://momajen.blogspot.com/feeds/3849146315713693172/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1504177785055185631&amp;postID=3849146315713693172' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1504177785055185631/posts/default/3849146315713693172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1504177785055185631/posts/default/3849146315713693172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://momajen.blogspot.com/2008/05/would-you-say-i-have-plethora-of.html' title='Would you say I have a plethora of pinatas?'/><author><name>Jen Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12638600713983035484</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SDodAI4Fi-I/AAAAAAAAAAY/s9qP6EV-jvA/S220/DSCF0358.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_CYAJ7TTiMgc/SDmGPo4Fi8I/AAAAAAAAAAM/MZx1i7QXNe8/s72-c/DSCF0010.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
