tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-285553782024-02-20T23:07:07.851-05:00Baby SchnellMy diary documenting the lives of Henry and MollyUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger571125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28555378.post-10337113969028507572011-07-18T00:05:00.000-04:002011-07-18T00:05:40.700-04:00My City GirlWe were at the beach today. Molly and I were walking, picking up shells and beach glass. She looked at me and said "Oh Mommy, this pavement is soooo soft! It feel like our carpet!" I'm not sure which is funnier, that she referred to sand as pavement or that she thinks our FLOR tiles and/or seagrass is plush. Poor thing.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28555378.post-52272439868004831162011-07-18T00:03:00.000-04:002011-07-18T00:03:21.008-04:00Bathroom HumorWith a 4 1/2 yr old and a 2 1/2 yr old in the house we have lots of potty humor. We try to stop it but as we have already shown, we have very little control in this house.<br />
<br />
Molly is channeling Rodney Dangerfield. Whenever we are in the car and I say we need to get gas, I hear Molly pipe up "Do you mean pass gas?" and she cackles wildly. She just needs a drumroll to follow her act.<br />
<br />
Henry recently informed us after passing gas that his "poop alarm" had just gone off.<br />
<br />
We recently had to purchase something called the Piddle Pad for Molly's carseat. She is potty trained but when she falls into a deep sleep in the car she sometimes has an accident. I think Henry misunderstands the concept because he suggested that if he, Adam or I need to use the bathroom on a car trip we can just pee in Molly's carseat.<br />
<br />
Not entirely funny, but we were talking about putting our apartment on the market recently and wondered if we could include the Elmo potty as a second bathroom on the listing.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28555378.post-37944564238070821702011-06-01T23:30:00.000-04:002011-06-01T23:30:42.404-04:00You see what I am working with?Molly really tests my mettle as a parent. I recently asked her to pick up a wooden puzzle box that she was playing with. She put me off twice with little excuses. Finally I tripped over it and said very sternly "Molly, I just tripped over your puzzle again. Pick it up now or I am going to get rid of it" (Classic Grandma Karen technique, "The Throw Away Threat.")<br />
<br />
She looked at me, walked over to the couch where my book was laying on the floor. She deliberately tripped over it and said "Mommy, pick up your book, I just tripped over it." Can you believe this level of sass from a two year old?<br />
<br />
Tonight I was trying to herd them into the bath. We were running late because we were out running errands. Henry was very cooperative but Molly kept stalling. She was going on and on about the fact that she was just getting the menus for her restaurant. Whenever I called her, she would just ignore what I was saying to her and ask me another question "Mommy, where is the food for my restaurant" and so on. I said "Molly, it is bedtime. You cannot play restaurant right now." She very sweetly ignored me and said "Oh, but I think Henry looks hungry!"Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28555378.post-2603061392670825022011-06-01T23:24:00.000-04:002011-06-01T23:24:13.443-04:00My little gourmetHenry has inherited my strong sense of smell and has an amazing sense memory. Adam and I always crack up about his crazy descriptions He will smell something and say "Oh that smells like Doctor Lewis's office or that smells like the pool." He was trying something to eat that he really wanted to like but didn't . He said "Oh that was really good. It kind of made me throw up a little but that's OK!" We went to Friendly's after the pool yesterday and I noticed that he only took a few bites of his cheeseburger sliders. I asked what was wrong and he said "Oh, I didn't really like them. They kinda tasted like dried fruit."Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28555378.post-26054962973577470642011-06-01T23:19:00.000-04:002011-06-01T23:19:56.029-04:00Don't Cross Brother Bear!One of Henry's best qualities is how good he is to Molly. He is ALWAYS looking out for her. We were at the playground recently and there was a little boy waving a small stick around. He poking it near Molly's face. I was chatting with a few friends and heard Henry calling me in a very urgent tone,<br />
<br />
I turned around and Henry had Molly tucked protectively under his arm. Shy little Henry was almost screaming at this kid "Get away from us! Leave us alone! Leave my sister alone!" I went over to intervene and Henry was pretty shaken up. I sorted out the situation and walked them back to my friends.<br />
<br />
This is pretty standard stuff for Henry but the other moms were quite impressed with the Big Brother. They couldn't get over how well he stuck up for Molly. One of the moms said "Wow, it was quite dramatic while it was going down, but I am amazed at how he looked out for her."Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28555378.post-15980972042469210012011-05-15T23:50:00.000-04:002011-05-15T23:50:34.367-04:00One Funny Little Baby!Molly is hilarious. I forget that she is not yet two and a half because she communicates so well. It is only her little soft, cartoon like voice that reminds me how young she is. Here are a few recent Molly quotes:<br />
<br />
Yesterday I was telling her something that she didn't like. I referred to her as Molls or Mollsie which are two of her nicknames. She replied in her snottiest voice "Call me Molly."<br />
<br />
This morning we woke up in a rental house in Westhampton. As happens on most vacations, the kids wind up sleeping with us despite the fact that there are other beds. She popped up and asked where Henry and Adam were. I replied that they went out to get bagels. She replied "Is it breakfast or lunch?" I was confused and said "Molly, you are silly. Of course you didn't sleep through breakfast." She revealed her humorous intent when she replied "Can you believe they didn't have any hash browns?" As a point of clarification because this is not at all funny on it's own, "Is it breakfast or lunch" is what Henry asks whenever we are near a McDonalds because he wants to know if there are toys available (only with lunch). One time we arrived at 10:30am because they wanted a quick hash brown before the children's museum. We were indignant that they were already serving lunch and didn't have any hash browns. The net-net of this long story is that my daughter thinks she is Jerry Seinfeld and was just doing a little skit for me.<br />
<br />
Later today we were sitting on my bed. I was reading the newspaper and she was playing. She starts talking to herself but really directed at me. "When I was a baby I was in your belly. I got bigger and bigger until I got stuck so I jumped out." Really? Where does she get this stuff? I was cracking up laughing and she said "I'm one funny little baby!"<br />
<br />
We went to get some Mr. Softee after dinner, because he was conveniently parked beneath our window playing his catchy tune. It was during a sunshower so the kids and I were running back. I over heard Molly behind me singing a little ditty. Yes, you are not misreading: "You gotta shake what your Mama gave ya!"Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28555378.post-82063936401800207982011-05-07T23:27:00.000-04:002011-05-07T23:27:51.533-04:00Happy Mother's Day!Happy Mother's Day to all of the wonderful moms out there. <br />
<br />
Sometimes during a rare quiet moment, I reflect on what my kids will think of me in twenty or thirty years. Will they remember me as fun or strict or crabby or nice? When I think back to my own childhood, it is shocking how little I remember. Certain memories stick out here and there but my whole childhood is pretty much a blur. I try to remember that as I raise my own kids. What seems so important right this second will be just a momentary blip in their lives. What I am creating, I think, is an over-all feeling. Will they grow up feeling secure and loved and happy? I'm fairly certain that they will.<br />
<br />
Although I don't remember every little detail, I am certain that I had a childhood that I would want my kids to have. Now that I know the day to day and minute to minute work that goes into raising children, of course I appreciate my own mom so much more. I think it is a testament to her that I don't really remember much. I think people that had very vivid childhood memories usually remember it for what it was lacking or for some particular trauma.<br />
<br />
I think so much that a mom does goes unnoticed unless it is not done. Like you don't notice that someone had picked up the toys or clipped their child's nails until the day comes that they don't do it. <br />
<br />
So I apologize Mom that I never thanked you for all of the things you did for us, because you never stopped doing them! A belated thanks for the gajillion: meals you cooked, snacks you made, lunches you packed, juice cups you filled, tables you set, dishes you washed, pots you scrubbed, trips to the grocery store, drug store, clothing store, shoe store, loads of laundry you washed, dried, folded and put away, loads of garbage you took out, baths you gave, nails you clipped, hair you combed, toys you stooped over to pick up, stories you read, carpools you drove, boo-boos you kissed, gifts you wrapped, beds you made, interrupted nights of sleep, times you wiped my nose or my tush or cleaned up my puke. <br />
<br />
There are a million and one other things that I could thank you for doing. Thank you for making our childhood a well-oiled machine that never stopped running. You are the best!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28555378.post-74036066499511700892011-05-05T00:18:00.000-04:002011-05-05T00:18:58.606-04:00Getting out of the wayBeing a parent is a humbling experience. The first three years or so are smooth sailing for a control freak like me. Do this, not that. Don't say that. Eat this. Go to sleep now, these are your friends, this is good, that is bad.<br />
<br />
Now that Henry is four and a half, he has his own ideas and opinions on how things should be done. While Molly loves being squeezed and hugged and shuts her eyes in sheer delight, Henry squirms away and can't wait for it to be over. He may give you a quick peck or a perfuntory hug but not often enough for me. I have come to understand (begrudgingly) that is not how he wants to show or receive love. He wants you to sit with him and play his little games or get him the scotch tape as soon as he asks. He wants you to chase him and then toss him onto the bed. He wants you to listen and laugh as he repeats the same story over and over and shower him with praise over every little jump or trick or achievement.<br />
<br />
I learn a lot from him on how to be a parent. Sometimes we do things that we think we should do, because that is what the books say or that is what everyone says you need to do. He shows me that it is OK to give in sometimes or not be so hard nosed. Is it really so bad if he does "x" in the house or doesn't do something the exact second I ask him to? He is a person, not a robot. <br />
<br />
He often encourages me (ok shames me) to not being so hard on Molly. Molly is at times, very stubborn and very emotional. I try to be firm with her so that she doesn't turn into a brat. There have been times that he has said "Don't yell at her" or "Just leave her alone" or "Just give her what she wants." Most of the time he is right. Why am I getting into a power struggle with a two year old? There have been times that he has handled a situation with her differently than I might have. She adores him and completely makes a turn-around. She has said many times "Mommy, Henry just made me so happy." As a parent, it just thrills me to see what a close relationship they have. <br />
<br />
I drive Adam to distraction with the same type of stuff. We have had many a conversation that it is OK for kids to have one type of relationship with their mom and a different type with their dad. Just because he isn't doing it my way doesn't make it wrong. He is right and I know it, but you get used to doing things your way and it is tough to take a step back and just let things unfold.<br />
<br />
Henry has a friend since birth that is a little bit on the rough side. He has calmed down a lot, but he is very high energy, has a quick temper and is quick to get into mischief. He dominates a lot of their play and wants to be first or not take turns etc. It is difficult as a mother to watch them play. My inclination is to step in and make sure things are "fair." When they were younger, it was necessary just to make sure Henry didn't get hurt. Henry is exactly like Adam in his calm nature. He will never be the one to hit someone or get into a fight. If kids get rough or a little too rowdy, he is on the periphery laughing and being involved but keeping his distance. <br />
<br />
The little boy was at our house yesterday with his sister. I had to step in here and there because the little girls were fighting and I overheard the boy say a few questionable things to Henry. Henry was tight-lipped about the situation and wouldn't tell me what had happened. When the kids left, I said to the kids "Listen, you can always come to me if something goes wrong and I will come help you. You don't need to fight about it." Henry said "Mom, why do I have to tell? Can't we just keep playing?" It was then I realized that Henry is smarter and savvier than I give him credit for. He knows his friend and his limitations and likes him anyway. He doesn't need my protection or for me to fight his battles unless he asks for help. <br />
<br />
On the flip side, there are times that he needs and wants my help. I haven't discussed it here, but I removed Henry from his preschool right before Christmas. He did very well (surprisingly well) for the first few months. He even admitted sheepishly that he really liked it. However, there were a few factors that made things start to go wrong. The first being is that five days were really to much for him. He had never been away from home that much and he kept asking when the program was going to be over. He had to give up his nap for school (it was in the afternoon) and I think it was just a terrible time of day for him. He was always very tired during class and afterward. He wasn't used to that school format and told me many times that he thought it was very boring. <br />
<br />
The mix of the class was not great, there were 13 girls and 5 extremely shy boys. He had one good friend going into the class and made one other little girl friend who left in October. When she left he had the one good friend and he never really clicked with the other boys. He was friendly with the other kids but Henry really needs kids that will pursue him and the boys were not that type. The teacher, in my opinion, did not do enough to faciliate the kids making friends. Her approach was pretty hands off and the class was not set up in a way to force the kids to mingle.<br />
<br />
Toward the beginning of December, Henry really started to hate going to school. What started with just moaning and groaning turned into tears in the hallway and then outright refusal to go to class. One day I just had to bring him home because he could not stop sobbing. I found out later that he had asked the teacher other times to call me and ask me to come get him. He started being very angry and aggressive at home which was unlike him. There was one day that I went to pick him up from class and he was standing there shivering in his T shirt. The classroom was so cold that the teacher was wearing her coat. I went and grabbed him and put on the sweatshirt that was in his cubby. He just crumbled into my arms and sobbed. It was heartbreaking to see that he was not comfortable enough to ask his teacher for his sweatshirt or that she was too busy to notice that he was freezing.<br />
<br />
After that I spent a two days in the classroom to see if I could help him re-adjust and become comfortable again. Even with me there, he just sat there and cried. Not a defiant cry or one meant to manipulate, just the cry of a very sad and scared little boy. He was so uncomfortable and unhappy in that classroom that it was palpable. I almost ran out with him and never returned after that first day. I talked to the teacher and the school social worker and the nursery school director about the situation but it was clear that we were on different planets in our thinking. They wanted me to just leave him there and let him work through it on his own. Since I could never get out of him what had made him so sad or scared, I could not in good conscience leave him there. What if I were to find out months after the fact that bad was happening to him? Was I supposed to just "break him" like he was a horse? Sure, I could force him to go everyday and I'm sure he would eventually stop crying. But what was I teaching him? That his words or thoughts or feelings didn't matter? Because I was the adult he had to listen?<br />
<br />
When I realized that our approach and the school's were not going to mesh, Adam and I made the painful decision to remove him from the program. I definitely have faced some criticism for pulling him from school but I am at peace with it. We may be wimpy or coddling or over-protective but forcing him to do something that made him so unhappy is not how we roll in our house. If being a Pre-K drop out hurts his chances of getting into Harvard, so be it.<br />
<br />
Time marches on. Each day I try to learn something new and be more patient. It doesn't have to be my way or the highway every time. It is hard to let go of the control but I am trying!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28555378.post-77018993388525845442011-05-04T23:17:00.000-04:002011-05-04T23:17:20.575-04:00Task MasterMy brother, sister and I have always joked that we didn't have toys as kids. We had chores. And lots of them. I was the only kindergartener who know how to make a hospital corner on my bed and scrub a toilet without a brush. We raked out horse stalls, carried bales of hay, chopped wood, raked leaves, scrubbed floors...you name it, we did it. I distinctly remember cooking dinner three nights a week as a 10 year old.<br />
<br />
You may remember when Henry was a toddler, I had him scrubbing the baseboards. In my defense, it was something he really enjoyed. It must have been more than once because a local friend called me recently to find out what the technique was. Her baseboards were on her list and she wanted to get the kids on the job. (Cloth diapers and a vinegar/water spray bottle if you are wondering. A toothbrush for the seams.)<br />
<br />
Last night Henry was in the tub and asked if he could bring his brush (from his dustpan and brush set) into the bathtub. Whenever I can say yes to something, I do. Could he put some soap on it. Sure kid, anything that will get me back to my NY Magazine. Can he rub the soapy brush on the walls? Yup. What about the washcloth? <br />
<br />
Now my ears perked up and I put my magazine down. Here little boy, do you want to use your toothbrush? It is getting old and will do the job the grout better, I mean it will be more fun. He is now scrubbing away, happy as a clam. I passed a princess toothbrush to the other idle worker, I mean child and she got scrubbing too.<br />
<br />
One hour later, I had to drag them kicking and screaming from the tub. I could only hoist Henry out after I promised that he could scrub the tub again today. When he woke, I heard his chirpy little voice. "Guess what Daddy! I have to eat breakfast really quick because mommy said I can scrub the tile again today!"<br />
<br />
After ninety minutes of scrubbing this morning I had to drag them out of the tub. Henry only acquiesced because his friend that was coming to play had rang the doorbell. They did a great job, the first foot of the tile is sparkling white. Now only if they were a little bit taller...Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28555378.post-87086586702092152192011-05-02T23:20:00.000-04:002011-05-02T23:20:00.510-04:00Shake What Your Mama Gave Ya...Due to Adam's work schedule, the kids are often up past normal bedtime hours. I let them nap late every afternoon to ensure that they see him every day. This means that they are sometimes exposed to some "inappropriate" TV programming. One of their favorite shows is "Dancing With The Stars." Molly has asked why everyone is naked. I wonder that sometimes as well.<br />
<br />
Tonight Adam was home early so they were in bed by 8pm. They were very wired and having a hard time settling down. They burst out of their room all full of smiles and said that they wanted to watch "that dancing show!" with us. We agreed that they could watch one or two dances.<br />
<br />
Henry went to get his little arm chair and pillow pet. Zsa Zsa Gabor ran off to her room to get her raciest little tutu. She selected the hot pink and black satin with lace number which I agreed was most appropriate. She slid it on over her little pajamas and said "Henry! Dance with Me!" It is hilarious, they normally dance together during the show partner style. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28555378.post-85746752906836485572011-05-02T23:13:00.000-04:002011-05-02T23:13:46.473-04:00How To Talk So Your Sister Will ListenThere is a popular parenting book called <em>How To Talk So Your Kids Will Listen and How to Listen So Your Kids Will Talk. </em>Just based on the title and the ways my kids act you can tell I never quite finished it.<br />
I do think that Henry has been sneak reading it after we go to bed. Here are three exact quotes that he said to Molly today:<br />
<br />
Three quotes from Henry today in dealing with Molly:<br />
<br />
We were cleaning their bedroom and Molly wanted us to play tic tac toe with her.<br />
<br />
"We can't Molly, we are mopping the floor. I'm not saying no. I'm just saying not right now."<br />
<br />
<br />
After Molly offered him something:<br />
"Molly, that is really nice of you to offer it but I don't want it"<br />
<br />
And lastly as he was removing some Easter candy from her hands and she started to scream:<br />
<br />
"You are going to make yourself sick if you eat anymore! OK, just one more piece. But no more. You really will get sick!"<br />
We are lucky to have Henry, he keeps us all on the straight and narrow.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28555378.post-39486443225101528542011-04-26T23:52:00.000-04:002011-04-26T23:52:13.003-04:00A Great MilestoneAt the risk of outing ourselves as horrible parents, we have reached a wonderful milestone in our house. Henry is now able to turn on the TV and cable box and type in "847" on the remote. This brings Nick Jr. onto the TV. On weekend mornings he and Molly go straight to the couch and watch their show happily while we get some extra shut-eye. Looks like all of those fine motor drills I do with him have been a huge success! Now if I could only teach them how to operate the coffee maker we would be in business!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28555378.post-17215793827673769762011-04-26T23:49:00.000-04:002011-04-26T23:49:20.748-04:00Funny StuffMolly loves to read out loud. She paraphrases quite well and sometimes adds her own adjustments to the book. I laughed recently when I overheard her ending her story "Haffiny never nafter." <br />
<br />
Yesterday Molly told me that something "would be her pleasure"<br />
<br />
Henry is like a little Adam clone. He recently told me that he could not eat his maple carrots or his apricot jam toast. "It's really just too sweet Mommy." He also told me that Adam was a much better "cooker" than I wise. Oh well, tough break kid.<br />
<br />
This evening I was tucking him into bed. I said for him to get some rest because we were going to have a fun day tomorrow. He asked what we were going to do. I said that I didn't know but I would think of something fun (we went to the beach today at his friend Elliot's suggestion). He said, "Elliot picked something today. I will think of something tomorrow. Before I watch my show in the morning, I will watch the news to see if it is warm out and then I will decide."Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28555378.post-13723167955991267112011-04-26T23:43:00.000-04:002011-04-26T23:43:01.795-04:00Italian Mother SyndromeI worked with the funniest guy at my last job. My friend was a middle aged Italian guy who grew up in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. (Williamsburg is now UBER trendy which amused him. He described it as the "armpit of the earth") He had a lovely, but tough as nails wife and two boys. <br />
<br />
Listening to Ralph tell stories was like having a friend from another culture. It was completely unlike my upbringing. They did literally everything for their boys, provided them with every material comfort and never wanted them to move out. They micro-managed their daily existence. The plan was that they would live with their parents until they wanted some freedom and then they would move to the basement. Once they got married, the son and (that bitch who married their son) would move into the basement. After saving some money, either they or the inlaws would chip in and buy the kids a house and they would live next door.<br />
<br />
I would make fun of my friend (to his face) all of the time. He was too soft. He did too much for the kids. Give them some freedom. The wife was too hard on the son's girlfriend. He told me a story where if he tried to grab the last piece of chicken his wife would give him a dirty look. Maybe one of the boys would like to eat it she would say. There were so many funny stories that I wish I could remember because they are so relevant to what I am going through now as a parent.<br />
<br />
I had an epiphany one night after I caught myself giving Adam the evil eye for taking extra food that I thought Henry might want. After poor Adam had probably worked a 70 hour week. I had to call my friend to tell him that I now understood his wife completely. I was sorry that I had every disagreed with anything she had ever done or said. She was right. <br />
<br />
Off to find a triplex in the Brooklyn so that the kids never have to move out.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28555378.post-5095486559393633912011-02-17T21:32:00.000-05:002011-02-17T21:32:10.168-05:00Christmas -2010Christmas Eve we had Adam's family over for dinner and Christmas Day we went to my brother Kevin's house for dinner. The highlight of the day was all of the kids shaking their booties to some sort of Wii Dance Game. Too funny. <br />
<br />
This was the first year that Henry was really into Santa which made it a lot more fun. We had to leave our carrots and cookies on the front mat because OF COURSE Santa does not have a key to our locked door. I have to admit- that the thought of a fat, old, strange, bearded man breaking into your house IS a bit creepy, however jolly he might be.<br />
<br />
Things the kids asked for: they both wanted pillow pets. Molly wanted the lady bug and Henry wanted the dog. The rest of Molly's list was "Dora Stuff" and Henry wanted a video game player, a spongbob toothbrush and a stuffed spongebob doll.<br />
<br />
Here are some pictures right after they woke up on Christmas morning. We must have concentrated on the video because these shots really are not that great!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZM_Noo_0AL-Ajb5Oju6ITAyzuP_aosS-7rkU39nQ6_Dk76rwZuygn7wvpt42esNNb81OfiadNzlfWey72AC5_Uog-SDLVTyMMh_k_nq7Asy90jbbdjiv8lS8Y0n70uYOmZ_PuSw/s1600/IMGP0187.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" j6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZM_Noo_0AL-Ajb5Oju6ITAyzuP_aosS-7rkU39nQ6_Dk76rwZuygn7wvpt42esNNb81OfiadNzlfWey72AC5_Uog-SDLVTyMMh_k_nq7Asy90jbbdjiv8lS8Y0n70uYOmZ_PuSw/s320/IMGP0187.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZjH80vVVdvwgQ0ezrxPr5FsxmYCFr7PLIBlMw7c37uGfUxIFpkTRIkXxSIPwh0F-tNxTfOZbJZ8oWg4yT9n3G4J-lD6zuR1d_njWhcgO50N6utq3GEIpIOy6EJpsd16-_9ZMfhQ/s1600/IMGP0188.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" j6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZjH80vVVdvwgQ0ezrxPr5FsxmYCFr7PLIBlMw7c37uGfUxIFpkTRIkXxSIPwh0F-tNxTfOZbJZ8oWg4yT9n3G4J-lD6zuR1d_njWhcgO50N6utq3GEIpIOy6EJpsd16-_9ZMfhQ/s320/IMGP0188.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjca4SbMoLpFIDJEmKG3U46xwLeSLQZczRkrfYi4Cam8ITBIuKWrDLxFPRR0JACeWHEjGfdFRTv4PUkLhPesPlx4kZ9vMQEgioprT3Pf8Kprtq3SyHRTCej4DlKzuPodVU1BCoqiA/s1600/IMGP0189.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" j6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjca4SbMoLpFIDJEmKG3U46xwLeSLQZczRkrfYi4Cam8ITBIuKWrDLxFPRR0JACeWHEjGfdFRTv4PUkLhPesPlx4kZ9vMQEgioprT3Pf8Kprtq3SyHRTCej4DlKzuPodVU1BCoqiA/s320/IMGP0189.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw6KhNzEB9Z6Ic8TqYKbT7cnK7LmAHCD4bxFodBK5vaNSXig7-6uwg9bKFJIGN0BTlSOeKYkgTEmP0W5DEMFz69RCBvKpYMrmySN4fdIztbWwLG22N0XihgatvMQIxO0SUttA2qA/s1600/IMGP0190.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" j6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw6KhNzEB9Z6Ic8TqYKbT7cnK7LmAHCD4bxFodBK5vaNSXig7-6uwg9bKFJIGN0BTlSOeKYkgTEmP0W5DEMFz69RCBvKpYMrmySN4fdIztbWwLG22N0XihgatvMQIxO0SUttA2qA/s320/IMGP0190.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXgdpf4CdzOomO_mbgGl9TIvhYlKh4sq4edsEnGXWzWplUy-71pBu_FcXQWcN1sgcsbZ3RzTWlERGWIBDal5Q3N8-UiLHID57fBsyyzaFssA-c9ZUhq890EE26jYo0kGPe1gf4QQ/s1600/IMGP0191.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" j6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXgdpf4CdzOomO_mbgGl9TIvhYlKh4sq4edsEnGXWzWplUy-71pBu_FcXQWcN1sgcsbZ3RzTWlERGWIBDal5Q3N8-UiLHID57fBsyyzaFssA-c9ZUhq890EE26jYo0kGPe1gf4QQ/s320/IMGP0191.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKraCpinwwxvPtZzv4wvsLI1gqvjDLDfoYVa1a8vsQgXjeDmMbr9Iw7b7Y9HoUtiWtdHg_m4PWpcE2NGdZe6jfn7TW_0B2sRi1N73bitjK90iRfvY6kVGU1CW552LMPAipng8zYQ/s1600/IMGP0192.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" j6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKraCpinwwxvPtZzv4wvsLI1gqvjDLDfoYVa1a8vsQgXjeDmMbr9Iw7b7Y9HoUtiWtdHg_m4PWpcE2NGdZe6jfn7TW_0B2sRi1N73bitjK90iRfvY6kVGU1CW552LMPAipng8zYQ/s320/IMGP0192.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28555378.post-20744491957457079342011-02-16T23:08:00.000-05:002011-02-16T23:08:07.157-05:00Random Cute Pictures<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Digging through the archives these are just pictures that I liked. This outfit was one of Molly's own creations. Her Easter basket, a necklace Adam bought her, pajamas, different pajama pants, and socks on her hands. The last one is a classic Molly face where she is giggling at her own joke.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRmvj_Qifhj8yAAXI0qMXR75dq5nJy4afGnfF0EekhRXsVHVfOay_lgKaNtuHH0RTnYHYDtasCOUijzHFUQJXc0gic3dWFBhva04IKlNVUC5qUw3brVAXQwLymfM8ESQZOvVy0Yw/s1600/IMGP0132.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" j6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRmvj_Qifhj8yAAXI0qMXR75dq5nJy4afGnfF0EekhRXsVHVfOay_lgKaNtuHH0RTnYHYDtasCOUijzHFUQJXc0gic3dWFBhva04IKlNVUC5qUw3brVAXQwLymfM8ESQZOvVy0Yw/s320/IMGP0132.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzzCDAIMTHsxGjozsbqls3mnUV4t3OJH_vfx3EEtj33uAYi6ysxHMrYCSxMG5Zn-MtxdpEsz_eXMjU1pefbcTpkZDlSLWZEMTaASBvHTwscmawJTHut1w6Olw8He_RQ_foup2GIg/s1600/IMGP0133.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" j6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzzCDAIMTHsxGjozsbqls3mnUV4t3OJH_vfx3EEtj33uAYi6ysxHMrYCSxMG5Zn-MtxdpEsz_eXMjU1pefbcTpkZDlSLWZEMTaASBvHTwscmawJTHut1w6Olw8He_RQ_foup2GIg/s320/IMGP0133.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwSkzzKsResM5Y9J7iLv_mtTRHuGUu-1wKrMoQiroQNtvseMjkmM1dIxcHpjGUjhprWaqcxeJDCF1Xz83MzgC6SKA1eVrk7dD4e0i2IShZdzLR6U75KYrggN-oYAlYC_PXIQYZ1A/s1600/IMGP0134.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" j6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwSkzzKsResM5Y9J7iLv_mtTRHuGUu-1wKrMoQiroQNtvseMjkmM1dIxcHpjGUjhprWaqcxeJDCF1Xz83MzgC6SKA1eVrk7dD4e0i2IShZdzLR6U75KYrggN-oYAlYC_PXIQYZ1A/s320/IMGP0134.JPG" width="240" /></a></div> In these pictures Henry must have just gotten his hair cut. He has some sort of hair product in his hair that he would never let us do at home. I just thought he looked very handsome that day and the last shot reminds me of what he will look as a teenager staring at the TV.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCiFZlF3NhBE2S-jmBVvv8SPMWxOMbjWRyh-W0QlK9gfuF6pSxCQqKHDnxP3BM69vJN9h4a83RCXboWwpAArQx-M5uK9hc3NUE0or8-T9WSZmp2rQxq5oXj2lbtGaPMpB-7_YUUQ/s1600/IMGP0108.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" j6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCiFZlF3NhBE2S-jmBVvv8SPMWxOMbjWRyh-W0QlK9gfuF6pSxCQqKHDnxP3BM69vJN9h4a83RCXboWwpAArQx-M5uK9hc3NUE0or8-T9WSZmp2rQxq5oXj2lbtGaPMpB-7_YUUQ/s320/IMGP0108.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6Jyaqmls3X5bjIYEZIZnd_fdo5HTZbubmb7t3UrK0TERyHa-TqUKe-3NA3HQ96I2NnmWj-nI1UxIKvWAlEcn71LniRrt7TUJHEyewsjbHDNhRdFy1OJpmdUrEvXrM2PLjtqldXg/s1600/IMGP0112.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" j6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6Jyaqmls3X5bjIYEZIZnd_fdo5HTZbubmb7t3UrK0TERyHa-TqUKe-3NA3HQ96I2NnmWj-nI1UxIKvWAlEcn71LniRrt7TUJHEyewsjbHDNhRdFy1OJpmdUrEvXrM2PLjtqldXg/s320/IMGP0112.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLFTrq6-6Emw-dwHfmRlQtZEWolUIoV5v9R_-tBgpMfiBUrBgkX3RlEjAbKHnlrPe9I8hnXa_ps7Yqnigw0Nn1r8pYy8eEZQ5Iqo8b2ALF82ISaTGbcDD52mfLD92AtzWgdxtm3Q/s1600/IMGP0122.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" j6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLFTrq6-6Emw-dwHfmRlQtZEWolUIoV5v9R_-tBgpMfiBUrBgkX3RlEjAbKHnlrPe9I8hnXa_ps7Yqnigw0Nn1r8pYy8eEZQ5Iqo8b2ALF82ISaTGbcDD52mfLD92AtzWgdxtm3Q/s320/IMGP0122.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28555378.post-15681472624708291122011-02-15T22:56:00.000-05:002011-02-15T22:56:35.867-05:00Tree Day - December 16th 2010Ever since Adam and I started living together we have always gone to get our Christmas tree on December 16th, which was my Dad's birthday. We have continued the tradition with the kids. We make a big spaghetti and meatball dinner, drink some wine and yell at each other while trying to get the tree straight in the tree stand. We buy our tree from the same guys from Canada each year who stay for the entire season just off 181st Street. We pick the tallest, skinniest tree we can find, pay an exhorbitant sum of money for it. Adam drags it home while I snap photos. Invariably the camera lens always fogs up and the pictures are terrible but it is documentation nonetheless. <br />
<br />
Since we have always lived with very little storage space (no garage, attic or basement) I have traditionally made new ornaments each year based on some sort of theme. Since the kids have been born I have really focused on non-breakable ornaments that they could touch. We have since gained some storage space so I am able to keep what I make from year to year. It is fun to see Molly react to the felt Elmo ornament just as Henry did when he was her age. This year we added to the collection by making some beaded ornaments that I bought in kits. We also all painted some glass ornaments as a family. I personally enjoyed watching Adam out of his comfort zone doing crafts. Henry really enjoyed making the snowflakes which had the tiniest little beads. I was surprised that he could even work with them and how much attention and time he devoted to making them. <br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPnPqDEUwMe_i9Lc72k2pZ-upHc-JO1AuJAYd5nKW-a3i9VqqMPsoSGyp3IaBwNvcVdlh9cyei4G5xq78jXb-4h-80m0QzJVll-r9Z0khR6T4u7F7oD4WbeJ8dX2PBCiEvLIBcnQ/s1600/IMGP0093.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPnPqDEUwMe_i9Lc72k2pZ-upHc-JO1AuJAYd5nKW-a3i9VqqMPsoSGyp3IaBwNvcVdlh9cyei4G5xq78jXb-4h-80m0QzJVll-r9Z0khR6T4u7F7oD4WbeJ8dX2PBCiEvLIBcnQ/s640/IMGP0093.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Family photo- That is Molly stuffed in my coat. We got a late start and she passed out as soon as I put her in the Ergo carrier.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijLJmjVEW0UEYs4j0phx-mL5hsqnnNIJ8ieXXN8Z7zRY1MyU0Poesel5schzvFXiJE456zukfn5qAFozZc12owwY92UCOLutatp4sRyS6Y3O_2-wkotpqlaemFUWDfAZ-wHThYhQ/s1600/IMGP0102.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijLJmjVEW0UEYs4j0phx-mL5hsqnnNIJ8ieXXN8Z7zRY1MyU0Poesel5schzvFXiJE456zukfn5qAFozZc12owwY92UCOLutatp4sRyS6Y3O_2-wkotpqlaemFUWDfAZ-wHThYhQ/s320/IMGP0102.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBSOGJ_L7aNlWXiB1lTvlX5sMjk6jh0K2VbbB922T3tb9QpHs0BR3JMO9gaMlDv-0RP_Vmk4jQ7AsaWem5-p3iUllicsTcMXcOMDRdTrBU1VeDEMDNxYVyJOHNLrqWhiIL3fOT1Q/s1600/IMGP0098.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBSOGJ_L7aNlWXiB1lTvlX5sMjk6jh0K2VbbB922T3tb9QpHs0BR3JMO9gaMlDv-0RP_Vmk4jQ7AsaWem5-p3iUllicsTcMXcOMDRdTrBU1VeDEMDNxYVyJOHNLrqWhiIL3fOT1Q/s320/IMGP0098.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Getting the end sawed off the tree</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia0HDxL7gtFaQ6wgnYvrY6dIScprmYGJNmR-G7qHzxARQ0WO1GM4Gg6jwYhNHnCqump2P8j3vFWcemz_LKFOgBMop0hG7uA3ryfGfUyIX5ZA13ant__vVj9SijdG8vMVpB1Dy4pw/s1600/IMGP0104.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia0HDxL7gtFaQ6wgnYvrY6dIScprmYGJNmR-G7qHzxARQ0WO1GM4Gg6jwYhNHnCqump2P8j3vFWcemz_LKFOgBMop0hG7uA3ryfGfUyIX5ZA13ant__vVj9SijdG8vMVpB1Dy4pw/s320/IMGP0104.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnytFF7Bxeyk79s7K3D6mj3OXa91lZQh93RPz5-8Ycn_p67zUbRqsT_thChc2zsHp0VZxcUAZQr_MSF7cc3EqHkQEX_guDw5-4_NeX4pPYfRc3Tz3ijtwZVkO2OKfqAGTKYkv-ZQ/s1600/IMGP0115.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnytFF7Bxeyk79s7K3D6mj3OXa91lZQh93RPz5-8Ycn_p67zUbRqsT_thChc2zsHp0VZxcUAZQr_MSF7cc3EqHkQEX_guDw5-4_NeX4pPYfRc3Tz3ijtwZVkO2OKfqAGTKYkv-ZQ/s320/IMGP0115.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Close up of some of our home-made ornaments</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9dZNSRyZ_rR6Xyeo-arWBY6LNGKakLYILPzQtpSFfpKrLYOuOPF_scgZzg31U8AyvCewXNzInQbpcAyWHhPBm7M5hXkYcN0Ty3xdcH3p1-D2ho6u6qAd-gF5t_vbOns28mV-cnQ/s1600/IMGP0120.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9dZNSRyZ_rR6Xyeo-arWBY6LNGKakLYILPzQtpSFfpKrLYOuOPF_scgZzg31U8AyvCewXNzInQbpcAyWHhPBm7M5hXkYcN0Ty3xdcH3p1-D2ho6u6qAd-gF5t_vbOns28mV-cnQ/s320/IMGP0120.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The finished product</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28555378.post-8895611154921315762011-02-14T23:47:00.001-05:002011-02-14T23:48:44.186-05:00Molly's Second Birthday Celebration!Here are the photos from Molly's big day in December.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxrbcEiQLUs_uMrl9NBTFA4UQFRDWggkDcQIH_tiy46HUTJjAflpT5C6HabsYvBqblKsQ_vV92DzBRhmhxFiwAd4tUBKFbaEW1wHvF8F_WLRgm24avIegu1Zq1oDsCCY2rt-xVNQ/s1600/IMGP0007.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxrbcEiQLUs_uMrl9NBTFA4UQFRDWggkDcQIH_tiy46HUTJjAflpT5C6HabsYvBqblKsQ_vV92DzBRhmhxFiwAd4tUBKFbaEW1wHvF8F_WLRgm24avIegu1Zq1oDsCCY2rt-xVNQ/s320/IMGP0007.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Picking out her birthday breakfast at the diner</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBILe6GiB1XquiZQS73s5744YVHvMxTn5Zr2yOEcov1Jkovm0f8IKHydnNEa7M9gA6pH3eqxZsb6X01774N-r_TYRGTHlwpHDp79uGOmNTbx9rZaUGx0dcVVlIf_42-1x84x8sjg/s1600/IMGP0008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBILe6GiB1XquiZQS73s5744YVHvMxTn5Zr2yOEcov1Jkovm0f8IKHydnNEa7M9gA6pH3eqxZsb6X01774N-r_TYRGTHlwpHDp79uGOmNTbx9rZaUGx0dcVVlIf_42-1x84x8sjg/s320/IMGP0008.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPrwqKcZVsV26bH-6VK0SknZB48KQ4gxg0ENu5kegF7iQK7h9JLUTeXc5C57PnWkpIlhfJ-4Bc3wey1cfcam6LnOn3_su6nk3Od6r46RLYwmIE1wI-3v3pmmnz3vKPoFzMuUwJYw/s1600/IMGP0013.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPrwqKcZVsV26bH-6VK0SknZB48KQ4gxg0ENu5kegF7iQK7h9JLUTeXc5C57PnWkpIlhfJ-4Bc3wey1cfcam6LnOn3_su6nk3Od6r46RLYwmIE1wI-3v3pmmnz3vKPoFzMuUwJYw/s400/IMGP0013.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At the New Jersey Chilren's Museum</td></tr>
</tbody></table> <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVBoGct1iSLs-dXZ9pCtRBXmr7VKd4VY-bGhszZoefEiyu2MgBRkC_BcZsKnSfWn6v6bMeZozZ4ckBBN5xkDEiHODhhXzOkGIJnnIYC-v8zhblSGFPv_TnWBRG1PyUWteUcJSHfw/s1600/IMGP0015.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVBoGct1iSLs-dXZ9pCtRBXmr7VKd4VY-bGhszZoefEiyu2MgBRkC_BcZsKnSfWn6v6bMeZozZ4ckBBN5xkDEiHODhhXzOkGIJnnIYC-v8zhblSGFPv_TnWBRG1PyUWteUcJSHfw/s320/IMGP0015.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Knight. Just prior to the picture she was chewing out some poor boy who had the nerve to enter her castle</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI9qEkrOwWEEMVlj7eDySueW2_qxolnN7_aEUgIkcAB8OG0C_PDbpNuiA1LfXnZxhYw_EntXBnalHEAI0ZWOckMDmq6h5ilD50xeW_nr5V1fmkBmLCVyPEzKwfNmkGmj6np41H4g/s1600/IMGP0019.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI9qEkrOwWEEMVlj7eDySueW2_qxolnN7_aEUgIkcAB8OG0C_PDbpNuiA1LfXnZxhYw_EntXBnalHEAI0ZWOckMDmq6h5ilD50xeW_nr5V1fmkBmLCVyPEzKwfNmkGmj6np41H4g/s320/IMGP0019.JPG" width="228" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ride 'em cowboy!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsmCwAxXbj2seZ5hVC2_qN-SQQpzxbzSjwp9H4yt9P4Ex2WBQJFEBAPm330X25gj_ZXeafCPns1jjUD5ZcHZJCGP4wmvb0wVATf1KJQcByi6blpr9KR_f4o5DPfaQss59QWdXBsA/s1600/IMGP0024.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsmCwAxXbj2seZ5hVC2_qN-SQQpzxbzSjwp9H4yt9P4Ex2WBQJFEBAPm330X25gj_ZXeafCPns1jjUD5ZcHZJCGP4wmvb0wVATf1KJQcByi6blpr9KR_f4o5DPfaQss59QWdXBsA/s320/IMGP0024.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Molly with her best friend Roen. Roen and her mom and brother stopped by to see her new dollhouse</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhUVARRrGwQRWvbuDd8c6KasdeqoWrioCMFtnndezqnivjcGrJf0Zo7HZecwlt1rbAiUqOQ1a_E-vQ7Rdw2lmkb5SY4ztidciwS3DWGzSae8zG-r0aW5OoblZ4V78ptPA0h_Mo0w/s1600/IMGP0037.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhUVARRrGwQRWvbuDd8c6KasdeqoWrioCMFtnndezqnivjcGrJf0Zo7HZecwlt1rbAiUqOQ1a_E-vQ7Rdw2lmkb5SY4ztidciwS3DWGzSae8zG-r0aW5OoblZ4V78ptPA0h_Mo0w/s320/IMGP0037.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Molly with her Dora cake</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj19wPbYeDX9LevinWbeDTZOTkj75pezEOVml7TLCH68pxjiPbWIhvldoaISo_opzylOE7qburskpYHh_obE_NzUGxS5Qh9m9SrmKzjYjZVrL5kxGMj1mHv0knq3Ig_HCV0kjRHfQ/s1600/IMGP0044.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj19wPbYeDX9LevinWbeDTZOTkj75pezEOVml7TLCH68pxjiPbWIhvldoaISo_opzylOE7qburskpYHh_obE_NzUGxS5Qh9m9SrmKzjYjZVrL5kxGMj1mHv0knq3Ig_HCV0kjRHfQ/s320/IMGP0044.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Molly at her birthday tea with two of her friends. </td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip6H4yKGrZdKtBofDzeF32PFdyUo44P-oPnr5HKE9I5_KHlbFcqnjFed9fqAsi3HuZfurJdp-gq-WjICEyYKBjyS12inuj7fpSTZS-no1VUda5NN7ecDnoJZlBl7GoNDJ8YEZkXw/s1600/IMGP0067.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip6H4yKGrZdKtBofDzeF32PFdyUo44P-oPnr5HKE9I5_KHlbFcqnjFed9fqAsi3HuZfurJdp-gq-WjICEyYKBjyS12inuj7fpSTZS-no1VUda5NN7ecDnoJZlBl7GoNDJ8YEZkXw/s320/IMGP0067.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pink cupcakes- Molly's only birthday request</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28555378.post-42785645562547791822011-02-13T23:03:00.000-05:002011-02-13T23:03:09.975-05:00Now That is Some Craft Box!As background, Henry and Molly have a craft box with assorted things: paper, crayons, pipe cleaners, string, paper clips, glue, stickers, streamers, feathers etc. Henry is quite the inventor and is always making all sorts of contraptions. Yesterday it was putting feathers on the backs of his Toy Story Figurines so that they could fly. Today it was stringing a line between every chair and knob in the dining room making a tight rope that he planned to walk on. Good luck with that one right?<br />
<br />
Anyway, the kids were taking their naps this afternoon. I heard Henry leave his room and go into the bathroom. A minute later after his business was done I heard him back in the bedroom having a very earnest conversation with Molly. I went in to see what was keeping her from getting out of her bed. Henry filled me in since she was not speaking that Molly had to use the bathroom but she didn't want to sit down. She wanted to stand like him.<br />
<br />
We are always taking about the differences between the boy and girl anatomy in this house. Usually more than I would like but whatever. I explained to Molly, yet again I might add, that she didn't have a penis so she would have to sit. She looked at me and sighed, I sure thinking that I was lacking something, maybe imagination. It was definitely a condescending look. Henry, sensing trouble brewing on the horizon, started spouting off ideas. His best and my favorite was: "I know! We can make Molly a penis using stuff from the craft box and then she can pee standing up!" Henry, I love your enthusiasm and craftiness!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28555378.post-22019408653434089302011-02-12T22:47:00.000-05:002011-02-12T22:47:30.472-05:00Apple Picking- Fall 2010Looking through our pictures, it seems that all we do is pick fruit on the weekends. Since I am trying to be thorough for Grandma, I now present you with Apple Picking at Masker's Orchard in Warwick, NY.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe44nDykOffclcuE4KuYIOY-xFsF27jJriZ9KWW4WSDO2hZ_v9uk-Cke-pRGYx_HD-6jiSUlajDtiRDUg5p7rVQdjk1V7e9Jherp3sUvHMrgvj3EvZ4P3g38BjlFBDLDKiq3VXHg/s1600/IMGP0281.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe44nDykOffclcuE4KuYIOY-xFsF27jJriZ9KWW4WSDO2hZ_v9uk-Cke-pRGYx_HD-6jiSUlajDtiRDUg5p7rVQdjk1V7e9Jherp3sUvHMrgvj3EvZ4P3g38BjlFBDLDKiq3VXHg/s320/IMGP0281.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT2P43xNGUwyP50Y4pXJssR2g78Gnri9l8mMxCnRqFs-eX4nI_LeYy2L2vLm6HJcJO3O1Rbvhy-rxOLGx1MKjmrjPmO136hRQhDehaG9a-qGQEJu6mcqUrJydGLVC85b1pAxRZHQ/s1600/IMGP0284.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT2P43xNGUwyP50Y4pXJssR2g78Gnri9l8mMxCnRqFs-eX4nI_LeYy2L2vLm6HJcJO3O1Rbvhy-rxOLGx1MKjmrjPmO136hRQhDehaG9a-qGQEJu6mcqUrJydGLVC85b1pAxRZHQ/s320/IMGP0284.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkg1A3PgJ08oV5Bg7f7GxRO0UNc0B6QovhohqF15E1y6DML12JNORodtnptXhSZuCfFOSto-w4VykVkEKRzbV4eI4kATMJHheniWpzD5hyhYbJigleLcVhtOmSn5NLUe7OLcS02Q/s1600/IMGP0292.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkg1A3PgJ08oV5Bg7f7GxRO0UNc0B6QovhohqF15E1y6DML12JNORodtnptXhSZuCfFOSto-w4VykVkEKRzbV4eI4kATMJHheniWpzD5hyhYbJigleLcVhtOmSn5NLUe7OLcS02Q/s320/IMGP0292.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzT87tD9dKNQVMhPmjjRhsK9kw_z3AdSag0Qtn8v3qAOCu7FqqYwwjNBeECW43V093hRreUGTVuNMXQGFi0-l-RrMBZ5-qesg0lNrAmQcerO4nYBJgrsaMTbXR9wQJMPr5G-hxmg/s1600/IMGP0320.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzT87tD9dKNQVMhPmjjRhsK9kw_z3AdSag0Qtn8v3qAOCu7FqqYwwjNBeECW43V093hRreUGTVuNMXQGFi0-l-RrMBZ5-qesg0lNrAmQcerO4nYBJgrsaMTbXR9wQJMPr5G-hxmg/s320/IMGP0320.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4EpP9KLU6-zMiae5jLAyNPSlxcqY6ZCB9ZF31GHF_FN7K2cfyaK7cB2Ms36OH0_teQl2FVVAPDThc7Tk6S8YHSNfzFqZqAeVfCXQ7fiNAgApi2MslXMWliHfs5vpHZBmi4BQxIg/s1600/IMGP0314.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4EpP9KLU6-zMiae5jLAyNPSlxcqY6ZCB9ZF31GHF_FN7K2cfyaK7cB2Ms36OH0_teQl2FVVAPDThc7Tk6S8YHSNfzFqZqAeVfCXQ7fiNAgApi2MslXMWliHfs5vpHZBmi4BQxIg/s320/IMGP0314.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggyofDEkl2t3Uj9y3EWVwDV1GW1N10Cyve9Oku6FTYKk9C9ip4HDQYBvbMpdaZQ3QU5zJRUsYq7eBgcxbAJ1DWJ-ufT3Q6aecqh1P3CkpqlH09ywBL4_Ym1QgdPpbZzinibgEdrg/s1600/IMGP0312.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggyofDEkl2t3Uj9y3EWVwDV1GW1N10Cyve9Oku6FTYKk9C9ip4HDQYBvbMpdaZQ3QU5zJRUsYq7eBgcxbAJ1DWJ-ufT3Q6aecqh1P3CkpqlH09ywBL4_Ym1QgdPpbZzinibgEdrg/s320/IMGP0312.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgde41fgFEZKQBqRdMKRZ8c8pogW2f2Zb_rpOB1NWokH8kvNObsYC3jnq88opAO42DnTc7kwopqnSNICJtgrTL9pNrYdWMotGk_H7lDZI8HU_S8hZoKNC79oI4MF9cfaN2XZFKvkg/s1600/IMGP0282.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgde41fgFEZKQBqRdMKRZ8c8pogW2f2Zb_rpOB1NWokH8kvNObsYC3jnq88opAO42DnTc7kwopqnSNICJtgrTL9pNrYdWMotGk_H7lDZI8HU_S8hZoKNC79oI4MF9cfaN2XZFKvkg/s320/IMGP0282.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2B_auv-_vtjuPJpATrK9DMNU6UVixdq4mccNAXucRNmGALPEc8xYO9GWbSDZxj_JdPW5jqZtOV7IF-Y-mh3oMb2J0rHAEwDNuirF2VMUEwU-7Z0-5dJvKoDzDyJtSeA9TJ6FhbA/s1600/IMGP0315.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2B_auv-_vtjuPJpATrK9DMNU6UVixdq4mccNAXucRNmGALPEc8xYO9GWbSDZxj_JdPW5jqZtOV7IF-Y-mh3oMb2J0rHAEwDNuirF2VMUEwU-7Z0-5dJvKoDzDyJtSeA9TJ6FhbA/s320/IMGP0315.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28555378.post-13671388091443754292011-02-11T23:02:00.000-05:002011-02-11T23:02:54.582-05:00Halloween 2010We started off the day at the NY Botanical Gardens where they had a Halloween celebration for kids. We then had an appetizer contest/Halloween party in our lobby with the neighbors. We took second place with our bacon wrapped, ricotta stuffed dates which was very exciting! We even got a trophy. We then did some trick or treating in our building. Molly didn't want to wear her costume until she got the real idea of what Halloween was about. She quickly changed her tune!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLFLhWN5gVdSvaYGfoNRfX_vbNn3Nc7-H0c3Yf4pDOS3_tp_pldYwCoYwC382DtNQUWv2Rgeid4o0WI9R7jLGuc1Way7aidRZVNl1RuJhe5Fmx8xnyNhXT6sNBMXs4IwwfS06EuQ/s1600/IMGP0413.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLFLhWN5gVdSvaYGfoNRfX_vbNn3Nc7-H0c3Yf4pDOS3_tp_pldYwCoYwC382DtNQUWv2Rgeid4o0WI9R7jLGuc1Way7aidRZVNl1RuJhe5Fmx8xnyNhXT6sNBMXs4IwwfS06EuQ/s320/IMGP0413.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSTelkBM4W2UfnnmTsXPSE9JywXFrXzNqDkKaPqr1aA2AWri_krnT0CwIXaadYnUXgZMy3V7RYKNkH_O96HyMvy_WZbu22OgreuCmUOvnzfMzMXRmMcJ3hcxih54CGJPheZ8tLsw/s1600/IMGP0416.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSTelkBM4W2UfnnmTsXPSE9JywXFrXzNqDkKaPqr1aA2AWri_krnT0CwIXaadYnUXgZMy3V7RYKNkH_O96HyMvy_WZbu22OgreuCmUOvnzfMzMXRmMcJ3hcxih54CGJPheZ8tLsw/s320/IMGP0416.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Molly running through the hedge maze</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglz7m852QO13UP03AoCBW-nT5JqxUKjj14pihw_q0C3fZ8Jx9P5VhpbZo_CrfxF7HzI96a9g_DKlUq4rElA8tSK2D0YpAi92dUohf10kDeNRzXfXZNsYUJW95OSo17Plr2b-YjYw/s1600/IMGP0417.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglz7m852QO13UP03AoCBW-nT5JqxUKjj14pihw_q0C3fZ8Jx9P5VhpbZo_CrfxF7HzI96a9g_DKlUq4rElA8tSK2D0YpAi92dUohf10kDeNRzXfXZNsYUJW95OSo17Plr2b-YjYw/s320/IMGP0417.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Henry in the maze</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgolT2JNyaH-rwlFaahJaSArGvi9bRVp5V9sV07UYJAuTEMcZ1ACZktXuF9gHEYrEfvmQV4fYy5Nfa46RVruAn7-Hqz3YBvxCC7mPiXhw2Q6tVb-cFAKCUzaP06jd5fgyrczcXXtw/s1600/IMGP0424.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgolT2JNyaH-rwlFaahJaSArGvi9bRVp5V9sV07UYJAuTEMcZ1ACZktXuF9gHEYrEfvmQV4fYy5Nfa46RVruAn7-Hqz3YBvxCC7mPiXhw2Q6tVb-cFAKCUzaP06jd5fgyrczcXXtw/s320/IMGP0424.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sitting on the log furniture</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgroNyyK7k44vudsEIsJtvZ6zmN4ohLc4EcXK3fHRLgDDhWULexf63Z1Lw6oTvlY7Fe72IDccV3ej4Xm717i3lijWNIJ6IrkEdzf_AlHU-MmBaV4-FDHT7MC1-uzfnJAkNJun47lw/s1600/IMGP0425.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgroNyyK7k44vudsEIsJtvZ6zmN4ohLc4EcXK3fHRLgDDhWULexf63Z1Lw6oTvlY7Fe72IDccV3ej4Xm717i3lijWNIJ6IrkEdzf_AlHU-MmBaV4-FDHT7MC1-uzfnJAkNJun47lw/s320/IMGP0425.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sitting at the mini log table and chairs</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9IpCcGI4UmpwdEDz_UlJWmjKilM9eI8JqMlcVpLO1mxhZv2JIrywoxNX3P7ICw6ZIQesMCEliFk5HwVzwR8NUkXQpicIbgyq_FCS8nWHI07X9QuHi5cFa10p18XfRbg1OgPkjSQ/s1600/IMGP0429.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9IpCcGI4UmpwdEDz_UlJWmjKilM9eI8JqMlcVpLO1mxhZv2JIrywoxNX3P7ICw6ZIQesMCEliFk5HwVzwR8NUkXQpicIbgyq_FCS8nWHI07X9QuHi5cFa10p18XfRbg1OgPkjSQ/s320/IMGP0429.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Doing some sort of botanical project. I think it was what they find in animal stomachs or something gross like that</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1XPL59B189G3c9VXqA-JCJDoWk3PsOovUNyZRFnuFZsuCf851XiYr77PWRevfRgSLyCEc4Z9upn1eINyeFE6GcV3nBeoOMHYqfm9mJVat8pZcYGDwAmTlp0w_wX2lxXU1RFj27A/s1600/IMGP0438.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1XPL59B189G3c9VXqA-JCJDoWk3PsOovUNyZRFnuFZsuCf851XiYr77PWRevfRgSLyCEc4Z9upn1eINyeFE6GcV3nBeoOMHYqfm9mJVat8pZcYGDwAmTlp0w_wX2lxXU1RFj27A/s320/IMGP0438.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Spongebob and the Red Crayon setting off to find treats in our building</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVuWMzqDXc7h7xAv6KQFoU-HkbScKNeAE04P-930W7vRxdhMOVudKQ9gTOqqBVMeDD7WANQ4wO75qSEsyuKYbLyiu83wWHLSIMGat2NE44115uNe6kFHY39hlpwHXtxxvRWyLzPQ/s1600/IMGP0437.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVuWMzqDXc7h7xAv6KQFoU-HkbScKNeAE04P-930W7vRxdhMOVudKQ9gTOqqBVMeDD7WANQ4wO75qSEsyuKYbLyiu83wWHLSIMGat2NE44115uNe6kFHY39hlpwHXtxxvRWyLzPQ/s320/IMGP0437.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Making their very important selections. I wish I paid more attention since I wound up eating most of the candy!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28555378.post-64602714569295961712011-02-10T21:17:00.004-05:002011-02-10T21:43:02.416-05:00Henry's 4th Birthday-palooza, October 2010<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Henry's 4th Birthday Celebration spanned many days. First, we celebrated with his friends in his Pre-K Class</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR5nIACoEF6YeACtEmIGlc6d_sGf9ZmDJ8TcJJiRjahYuMo01Hri8mYgTmuQRybZhw1CnzH5xy_5ZDT3UiMeAWyFER8IT3Z5f_36OLaC6oiRfZgfviBGmPyzLrQsRcesSLMhfeLQ/s1600/IMGP0328.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR5nIACoEF6YeACtEmIGlc6d_sGf9ZmDJ8TcJJiRjahYuMo01Hri8mYgTmuQRybZhw1CnzH5xy_5ZDT3UiMeAWyFER8IT3Z5f_36OLaC6oiRfZgfviBGmPyzLrQsRcesSLMhfeLQ/s320/IMGP0328.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjREPb7P6p0h4yHMewngaOLmhfhCajEKKqBDQyct34U4GPX2uxzG1kNoFbKJiVRtslW8ZrJHLcmOwTYTuNadGtZ8PWY4Tqv2fJH2O-EdfpBrMB0lz9qdUl58EM69up7nk6K6oU7Fg/s1600/IMGP0330.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjREPb7P6p0h4yHMewngaOLmhfhCajEKKqBDQyct34U4GPX2uxzG1kNoFbKJiVRtslW8ZrJHLcmOwTYTuNadGtZ8PWY4Tqv2fJH2O-EdfpBrMB0lz9qdUl58EM69up7nk6K6oU7Fg/s320/IMGP0330.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
Then, we opened gifts at home before heading to Great Wolf Lodge. Henry got Magnatiles and the home arcade claw machine that he has always wanted.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggtSfik70MQ7ct27l4crg-cilo-x5uTgh7i8KCFMlaB42vuY6txPdiVKJ2oXXd5HfcsCHgTe3H50T5gEBA7p3m4iB05yssdFE_sCRCC2PhD-h831zXI2iWqNdNNzkChpZS6MEY7A/s1600/IMGP0338.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggtSfik70MQ7ct27l4crg-cilo-x5uTgh7i8KCFMlaB42vuY6txPdiVKJ2oXXd5HfcsCHgTe3H50T5gEBA7p3m4iB05yssdFE_sCRCC2PhD-h831zXI2iWqNdNNzkChpZS6MEY7A/s320/IMGP0338.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXpFur3ld6diD7Cx-9ydWM35p3xm6IeZhW7LF2m1ScMgLCSbjAP9DOG1oC3pBk4RTiXVjz1MOu-iohX28rbipxKv_aEyGUXKmVGPZnn5ATxICfEWQaf3sdzom6s_XLJamkZDZuTw/s1600/IMGP0339.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXpFur3ld6diD7Cx-9ydWM35p3xm6IeZhW7LF2m1ScMgLCSbjAP9DOG1oC3pBk4RTiXVjz1MOu-iohX28rbipxKv_aEyGUXKmVGPZnn5ATxICfEWQaf3sdzom6s_XLJamkZDZuTw/s320/IMGP0339.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div>Showing off his bunk beds and some sort of snake that he must have won through his claw machine addition<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKMfukHsR5IoMz5qo3vIXoamIR2Z3hjw8w7nEAelNLqFBKzDjY-LQKyO2PZjFNnHboByhRTbKZhSChwOgn-EEmQBtGT06a7fvKLZw104LmpROl86-XrZgiIbCeQa0gEmBRMq7KYg/s1600/IMGP0343.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKMfukHsR5IoMz5qo3vIXoamIR2Z3hjw8w7nEAelNLqFBKzDjY-LQKyO2PZjFNnHboByhRTbKZhSChwOgn-EEmQBtGT06a7fvKLZw104LmpROl86-XrZgiIbCeQa0gEmBRMq7KYg/s320/IMGP0343.JPG" width="240" /></a></div> Trick or treating in the Great Wolf Lodge Hallways. Notice Molly's ire and lack of costume<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKDD3bEXq4HykpwvFLyLieXDLhDe96FECMClhnAuot0YMLNUdI2IaGEXjfMxNSyMWT2inD1gRx93qVaEPdg7reVI61Mv-7Zt9DvwG3pSqq-cq39NuaFr5O3nnY9OJE3qnYRvicwg/s1600/IMGP0348.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKDD3bEXq4HykpwvFLyLieXDLhDe96FECMClhnAuot0YMLNUdI2IaGEXjfMxNSyMWT2inD1gRx93qVaEPdg7reVI61Mv-7Zt9DvwG3pSqq-cq39NuaFr5O3nnY9OJE3qnYRvicwg/s320/IMGP0348.JPG" width="240" /></a></div> Showing off their howling and wolf ears at the buffet<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSQzZ02bvNhN0IgHqOU8qyLWNH5xYM-OkSIq7AIWpV25ST3Cd1dOFBcUqNRxr8Sh5mNZmnQih1gsNUxPSQtiFaNfeJgyWXRwgKB9D-92oAMD60uyFGMljNQPiuHUBAQ97pwHKGhQ/s1600/IMGP0350.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSQzZ02bvNhN0IgHqOU8qyLWNH5xYM-OkSIq7AIWpV25ST3Cd1dOFBcUqNRxr8Sh5mNZmnQih1gsNUxPSQtiFaNfeJgyWXRwgKB9D-92oAMD60uyFGMljNQPiuHUBAQ97pwHKGhQ/s320/IMGP0350.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Then, we had Uncles Kevin and Barry, their families and Papa Joe over for lunch. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzJ6UqtxUMy_tlXhuutUbYNrG7jLmued1OAC0oMjhzWgJgXDt4kk2xcUZhGBjv4oKcIqBg-iXiMRSIHhmgQfC0YM2uYrtp63-YFtG2vyT8pZV8o3-ZMUghtDBgB9rMmM217j4eqQ/s1600/IMGP0354.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzJ6UqtxUMy_tlXhuutUbYNrG7jLmued1OAC0oMjhzWgJgXDt4kk2xcUZhGBjv4oKcIqBg-iXiMRSIHhmgQfC0YM2uYrtp63-YFtG2vyT8pZV8o3-ZMUghtDBgB9rMmM217j4eqQ/s320/IMGP0354.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>And then Henry sprung his last minute desire for a party with his friends and I whipped something together before I passed out from the sheer exhaustion of it all :)<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_DVGJ0EVJfpB7pJ8w-a_KACmPIN2OUOjqj8RYhdDHbTytcmxRdaC9-PN8WzvBb80mnd5LtJs2M5Cfo6kdqn8IdMyKGojcwG6fKApDpqIDi6feyyVPT692iJSCc50eRDK45lYuVA/s1600/IMGP0360.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_DVGJ0EVJfpB7pJ8w-a_KACmPIN2OUOjqj8RYhdDHbTytcmxRdaC9-PN8WzvBb80mnd5LtJs2M5Cfo6kdqn8IdMyKGojcwG6fKApDpqIDi6feyyVPT692iJSCc50eRDK45lYuVA/s320/IMGP0360.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_anFhy4PdkFqbH83v-boO5KZ5TCC8qD4hL8MKaUpLDfkKgGPZHvFBNj3Bsk96Th_3xfUJklDCcfaDjwnoMhvxUDyAT_f2BsUT9njZs-eu1Mf_N-YYQw8riG-ImJt4HV1kZf1AUA/s1600/IMGP0363.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_anFhy4PdkFqbH83v-boO5KZ5TCC8qD4hL8MKaUpLDfkKgGPZHvFBNj3Bsk96Th_3xfUJklDCcfaDjwnoMhvxUDyAT_f2BsUT9njZs-eu1Mf_N-YYQw8riG-ImJt4HV1kZf1AUA/s320/IMGP0363.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28555378.post-16861459180569109442011-02-09T22:28:00.003-05:002011-02-09T22:40:31.647-05:00Funny Photo RejectsI love watching Adam try to take pictures of the kids. After 4 years, I would think that he would know by now that Henry will refuse to cooperate or make a funny face, Molly will run away or pout and that it is literally impossible to get a good posed shot of the two of them. The optimist that he is, he perseveres. I enjoyed watching his blood pressure rise during this photo shoot.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsEagWBT1b7TrvyE9H_64LqcUOPSIqy_zUsY7bUDP2HXiWx_AKqhgrLaiqBhztrxuRJHieZgksQwxwi6gZdvBoELDAjX_BZbNQR7dMwCSG7X-ZxrvUQ0XS8kJTMP21aRyaO97MzQ/s1600/IMGP0273.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571900239368577394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsEagWBT1b7TrvyE9H_64LqcUOPSIqy_zUsY7bUDP2HXiWx_AKqhgrLaiqBhztrxuRJHieZgksQwxwi6gZdvBoELDAjX_BZbNQR7dMwCSG7X-ZxrvUQ0XS8kJTMP21aRyaO97MzQ/s400/IMGP0273.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUZ-Bnw7iTJjErJ5KwmBILhc3Jq_nW9szn5e1_yirfNN7bzUmRzG9glkLdFjFXY4wdkhacu_yNhzt2MdSW2teBY1bER2V7ATPxj1PAV_KGVrHjt-wkXwJ0OQu4ira2vi76nqrkrQ/s1600/IMGP0271.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571900236942162130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUZ-Bnw7iTJjErJ5KwmBILhc3Jq_nW9szn5e1_yirfNN7bzUmRzG9glkLdFjFXY4wdkhacu_yNhzt2MdSW2teBY1bER2V7ATPxj1PAV_KGVrHjt-wkXwJ0OQu4ira2vi76nqrkrQ/s400/IMGP0271.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPWxtSTVSw1DVGkxkl1qVgVM5RGVbdcTUX8XrD86XVCfyqlK_dISApLUMdsT2_eheNtmko9Fkv5kd_G9-Q5SBJbB7LeTZtqjzT03neb9PckQu-46G3C81WCed0jBs5K3pPkqQ8qA/s1600/IMGP0270.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571900238852411074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPWxtSTVSw1DVGkxkl1qVgVM5RGVbdcTUX8XrD86XVCfyqlK_dISApLUMdsT2_eheNtmko9Fkv5kd_G9-Q5SBJbB7LeTZtqjzT03neb9PckQu-46G3C81WCed0jBs5K3pPkqQ8qA/s400/IMGP0270.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8KrE9OI1nW-Y153MH_jqsF_tIz7pk0JlrC89AhH436Bk5Ye0vzOwig4TE-R3opUmnx2cqjkRspHO5AVY4trciKEwqM2Gl9QbgTRwQqKiNQVDGLU60hDKu2WHnQIufXSCwgm6DlQ/s1600/IMGP0268.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571900229212007314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8KrE9OI1nW-Y153MH_jqsF_tIz7pk0JlrC89AhH436Bk5Ye0vzOwig4TE-R3opUmnx2cqjkRspHO5AVY4trciKEwqM2Gl9QbgTRwQqKiNQVDGLU60hDKu2WHnQIufXSCwgm6DlQ/s400/IMGP0268.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8znoYjDXMcEemM9gAPCOAsag-u17sX1vyWXrpKQDYikhSfP_Ikvhek0lpZWce5v37e7fRRNJUXAHmqiozYR2i8XuAlbMECMQ9bx81vgO0AG0N7zoPRGlFmJyGR3MOFnrYsEGVcA/s1600/IMGP0267.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571900222864335298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8znoYjDXMcEemM9gAPCOAsag-u17sX1vyWXrpKQDYikhSfP_Ikvhek0lpZWce5v37e7fRRNJUXAHmqiozYR2i8XuAlbMECMQ9bx81vgO0AG0N7zoPRGlFmJyGR3MOFnrYsEGVcA/s400/IMGP0267.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div> </div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div></div></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28555378.post-78905490052765657562011-02-09T22:17:00.003-05:002011-02-09T22:27:33.918-05:002nd Annual Trip to Dutch Wonderland Sept 2010We had our second annual trip to Dutch Wonderland in Lancaster PA. Henry loves rides and we were excited to get Molly in on the action this year. Such fun, we opened and closed the park. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh27B_PAYcIX8yzxEQarDoA5bCKH5qmWPIFQ5LmvWd8Ty8yRr3pctsr0ubzRD0UXJKen7LB9XxVAFUJhWxJnPiwnQuA41aEio-hnhjUoXwYxZmcrgl45rkqy_wJ8PIzwQN_C3gIbg/s1600/IMGP0235.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571896979152119586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh27B_PAYcIX8yzxEQarDoA5bCKH5qmWPIFQ5LmvWd8Ty8yRr3pctsr0ubzRD0UXJKen7LB9XxVAFUJhWxJnPiwnQuA41aEio-hnhjUoXwYxZmcrgl45rkqy_wJ8PIzwQN_C3gIbg/s400/IMGP0235.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ9cIGs_Ta_aMwY3mZSpCuquYlmd-XeZ1VKIbIPMQlxx9ndBKJNOiwZT1kRJA30vjpbGdpHD7c_fE35OnxqCJHbxHO-I4u_xdrPxROrOpt2I0XCpuu5qD4vKgSX2mOHdDdw8xs2Q/s1600/IMGP0226.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571896974180099426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ9cIGs_Ta_aMwY3mZSpCuquYlmd-XeZ1VKIbIPMQlxx9ndBKJNOiwZT1kRJA30vjpbGdpHD7c_fE35OnxqCJHbxHO-I4u_xdrPxROrOpt2I0XCpuu5qD4vKgSX2mOHdDdw8xs2Q/s400/IMGP0226.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhp8A7_Q1wncpzlbV38jcn3amUGCvYJGRZLDi_sblVsFTfGPaSVtf5uZ_ytU_dRwAbByEE1YR0MCUAKD9JECCbP5armyrpShA-d-20rdF6NtoscTBGhyphenhyphen1U7GWjRbsYm9_CNOLkgg/s1600/IMGP0220.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571896965652894914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhp8A7_Q1wncpzlbV38jcn3amUGCvYJGRZLDi_sblVsFTfGPaSVtf5uZ_ytU_dRwAbByEE1YR0MCUAKD9JECCbP5armyrpShA-d-20rdF6NtoscTBGhyphenhyphen1U7GWjRbsYm9_CNOLkgg/s400/IMGP0220.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirp_xvU3wwhbt1cUBSCetofTqUYUBDU3FMIp61dVjPm41xxYGgH97emH4smT8D3Hlpb4ReNT5rYYHC1-ArWpeWaAMTzw3zdH1jnSqcIgbbdB93T9SQMcDz_ez9CP1nukl1hj3bWA/s1600/Picture_1079_taken_on_2010-09-25_174250.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571896958807667266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 265px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirp_xvU3wwhbt1cUBSCetofTqUYUBDU3FMIp61dVjPm41xxYGgH97emH4smT8D3Hlpb4ReNT5rYYHC1-ArWpeWaAMTzw3zdH1jnSqcIgbbdB93T9SQMcDz_ez9CP1nukl1hj3bWA/s400/Picture_1079_taken_on_2010-09-25_174250.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeWk7CTT-M2BGwwIrcPW9XGhtPL3M4pqZIYnGwliTksR3RotUoP_01xOggPhfmvci1DjWgfoayS4C-VXTppt4BNQt96QlNBqtpxr-JMHZgqy8nL4mfCBSzUwPSn_0Au09jz928Ig/s1600/Picture_25_taken_on_2010-09-25_174250%255B1%255D.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571896953909556898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeWk7CTT-M2BGwwIrcPW9XGhtPL3M4pqZIYnGwliTksR3RotUoP_01xOggPhfmvci1DjWgfoayS4C-VXTppt4BNQt96QlNBqtpxr-JMHZgqy8nL4mfCBSzUwPSn_0Au09jz928Ig/s400/Picture_25_taken_on_2010-09-25_174250%255B1%255D.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div> </div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div></div></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28555378.post-59091763742625236552011-02-08T21:16:00.005-05:002011-02-08T21:33:19.285-05:00Suburban InterlopersFaced with another sweltering summer in the concrete jungle, I had to get creative. We, with a few neighborhood friends, decided to join a suburban pool club just over the bridge in Tenafly, NJ. There were quite a few other neighborhood people that happened to join as well so we always knew lots of people there. Most of the time if felt like our own club because the locals were rarely even there. I guess they are spoiled by their fancy back yards. The city slickers enjoyed all of the amenities: blue skies, green grass, lawn chairs, play ground, snack bar, 2 pools, free swimming lessons. We had such a great summer.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSSibSW18KA6WLReUEUNsBU6lfg47vPr1vuft9SsesEXhp3mrei7KdHqJT7rElBnUp5fDZnYgFC0aT0ENttz6xWxrcWaLBdkhH8Q-FqnPghXjI3GSVhusFt0AqWIcW4YFaFnrvmA/s1600/Henry%2527s+Big+Jump%2521.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571510306479606642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 258px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSSibSW18KA6WLReUEUNsBU6lfg47vPr1vuft9SsesEXhp3mrei7KdHqJT7rElBnUp5fDZnYgFC0aT0ENttz6xWxrcWaLBdkhH8Q-FqnPghXjI3GSVhusFt0AqWIcW4YFaFnrvmA/s400/Henry%2527s+Big+Jump%2521.JPG" border="0" /></a> The highlight of the summer. Henry became a great and very brave swimmer under Adam's tutelage. On the first day of summer, he saw the diving board and his eyes got as big as saucers. He wanted to know what it was and when he was going to do it. We promised that if he learned to swim he could jump off. On the last day of the season, it was bad weather (but we were there anyway.) We asked the lifeguards if they could allow him to wear a life preserver and jump off the big board. (Swim arms and life preservers were not allowed in the big pool). The agreed to let him try it. After a bit of nerves, a few false starts and some missed photo opportunities, here is a picture of the big jump. Henry said that his summer dream came true.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyvoUT-OhJ8Gma0X7BQk59N-sewAAXASe48zgE8Zps1I0X3E6DjAQTMFcB4RtXvd1eak2d7FhI7hQw6viHM_rI10oQ2mJDXJekJqpy5pJdI-lwTZHRKzI5Aw15U8rWOe0byCscIw/s1600/088.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571510303538748770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyvoUT-OhJ8Gma0X7BQk59N-sewAAXASe48zgE8Zps1I0X3E6DjAQTMFcB4RtXvd1eak2d7FhI7hQw6viHM_rI10oQ2mJDXJekJqpy5pJdI-lwTZHRKzI5Aw15U8rWOe0byCscIw/s400/088.JPG" border="0" /></a> Henry and Kaden making a boat in the kiddie pool<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIzAxsNj5byI9eet_OQ6_PHbwJRyBpmNaARw1yfmdUoBBPXaK2ssTi_EY4nMXhqRZl1qO9pxF4vKYejv-7VU5YT11H0yBQL8PEe_DrIEak_VKyeHkDK-xZ94YSl-jqAb8cAUHC2A/s1600/087.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571510302367373346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIzAxsNj5byI9eet_OQ6_PHbwJRyBpmNaARw1yfmdUoBBPXaK2ssTi_EY4nMXhqRZl1qO9pxF4vKYejv-7VU5YT11H0yBQL8PEe_DrIEak_VKyeHkDK-xZ94YSl-jqAb8cAUHC2A/s400/087.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Molly modeling her shades<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicZ9FofC0nncQzMfmPKVhvyYfH1YvF52TOIeqPUHjONzPpsejHKIJKDS6_MjrYoAA-4j25d6RVRBZwdSlnqus3lj5eo6vm3xKOUUtg9XJuJ4On4mOLL8oUJ_wXsfAyTqJY1hVYCg/s1600/082.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571510297172142066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicZ9FofC0nncQzMfmPKVhvyYfH1YvF52TOIeqPUHjONzPpsejHKIJKDS6_MjrYoAA-4j25d6RVRBZwdSlnqus3lj5eo6vm3xKOUUtg9XJuJ4On4mOLL8oUJ_wXsfAyTqJY1hVYCg/s400/082.JPG" border="0" /></a> Henry and Molly with two of their very best friends, Kaden and Roen. The snack shack with its freezer of popsicles was obviously a big draw every afternoon. The kids would stand in front of the sign discussing all of their options. Henry would go up with the money and give the his order and then order for Molly as well.<br /><br /><br /><br /><div> </div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0