<?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-243033688650255351</id><updated>2012-01-25T12:26:09.019-08:00</updated><category term='Kid Quotes'/><category term='Carter'/><category term='Brady 6 month old skills'/><title type='text'>Shell's Family Stuff</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02713074353597472827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_1Lqcq_Mbu_M/R8Q130TNyhI/AAAAAAAAABg/jQkemQeY-tA/S220/Ella+and+Mommy+2.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>73</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-4763965625438862116</id><published>2009-01-17T18:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-17T18:16:43.672-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Carter'/><title type='text'>What Was His Name-O?</title><content type='html'>Driving home one day last week, at a stop light, we pulled up right next to the big truck that had delivered our Miche Bag shipment the week before.  As I got close enough to see, I saw that it was the same driver too, and mentioned this to my boys. &lt;br /&gt;Carter asked me, "What's his name?"&lt;br /&gt;I said, "I don't know, I forgot to ask him."&lt;br /&gt;Carter answered, "I think it's Bingo"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yep, he knows the song.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-4763965625438862116?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/4763965625438862116/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=4763965625438862116' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/4763965625438862116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/4763965625438862116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2009/01/what-was-his-name-o.html' title='What Was His Name-O?'/><author><name>Barbara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01378474264046066437</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-5257362993113431637</id><published>2009-01-04T21:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-04T21:22:18.313-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Brady 6 month old skills'/><title type='text'>Brady's True Feelings</title><content type='html'>Lately Brady has been learning to shake his head from side to side, as if he's saying "no". He was just randomly shaking his head and had Kai and Carter giggling while they were eating dinner. (I should mention, however, that it doesn't take much to make Kai and Carter giggle when they should be eating dinner, or reading scriptures, or saying prayers, or anything else they &lt;em&gt;should&lt;/em&gt; be doing.)&lt;br /&gt;As he chooses when to demonstrate this new skill, we're starting to see his developing sense of humor.&lt;br /&gt;Last night I picked him up, kissed him and said, "you ready to go to bed?"--Shake shake shake.&lt;br /&gt;Tonight, after he was practically mauled, as usual, by Kai and Carter giving him good-night kisses, I asked him, "Do you still love your brothers, even though they are a little crazy?"--A very enthusiastic shake shake shake.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-5257362993113431637?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/5257362993113431637/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=5257362993113431637' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/5257362993113431637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/5257362993113431637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2009/01/bradys-true-feelings.html' title='Brady&apos;s True Feelings'/><author><name>Barbara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01378474264046066437</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-6358005503542856357</id><published>2008-12-05T07:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-05T08:00:22.782-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Health-Conscious</title><content type='html'>I bought Max and Ella each a chocolate advent calendar to countdown to Christmas.  This morning Max said to me, “You know what?  The thing on the back told me that the very last chocolate on Christmas has a lot of fat in it.”  When I said, “Oh really?” he said, “but not too much.”  I hope I'm not making this poor kid paranoid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Max has been working on some worksheets from school and he's been practicing writing his name.  He told me this morning that he's been writing his name a lot at school.  I told him, “And you're getting really good at it!” and he said, “Apparently almost too good.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-6358005503542856357?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/6358005503542856357/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=6358005503542856357' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/6358005503542856357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/6358005503542856357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2008/12/health-conscious.html' title='Health-Conscious'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02713074353597472827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_1Lqcq_Mbu_M/R8Q130TNyhI/AAAAAAAAABg/jQkemQeY-tA/S220/Ella+and+Mommy+2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-7336920164823520167</id><published>2008-11-02T13:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-02T13:52:31.103-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Family Support</title><content type='html'>Today at church, Max bore his testimony (and did a very good job.)  When he was about halfway through, Ella yelled to him, “Good Maxi-boy!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few weeks ago when we were taking Max to school, the moon was still up.  Ella was really excited to see the moon and she kept talking about it.  Then she said, “I wanna go up in the sky with the moon.  I need a moon step stool.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-7336920164823520167?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/7336920164823520167/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=7336920164823520167' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/7336920164823520167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/7336920164823520167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2008/11/family-support.html' title='Family Support'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02713074353597472827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_1Lqcq_Mbu_M/R8Q130TNyhI/AAAAAAAAABg/jQkemQeY-tA/S220/Ella+and+Mommy+2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-6837543444717826628</id><published>2008-08-09T08:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-09T09:18:50.616-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Carter'/><title type='text'>The Joy of Making Your Own Rules</title><content type='html'>Nate was walking outside with Carter and Carter told him about the new game he just made up. He calls it the "Super Super Bad Game." He can punch and when he races he doesn't have to say, "on your mark, get set, go"; he just goes.&lt;br /&gt;Ahhhhhhhhhh, freedom!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-6837543444717826628?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/6837543444717826628/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=6837543444717826628' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/6837543444717826628'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/6837543444717826628'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2008/08/joy-of-making-your-own-rules.html' title='The Joy of Making Your Own Rules'/><author><name>Barbara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01378474264046066437</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-5961746438176478757</id><published>2008-07-27T19:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-27T19:24:29.915-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ella</title><content type='html'>Tonight Cory was helping Ella say a prayer and he told her to say, "Please bless Mommy and baby Sam."  Ella said, "Bless Ella."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A month ago or so, I said something to Max and called him "Boot Strap" (one of his nicknames is Boot Strap Booah, his "pirate name.")  Then Ella said, "Max is Boot Strap, Ella is Awesome!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-5961746438176478757?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/5961746438176478757/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=5961746438176478757' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/5961746438176478757'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/5961746438176478757'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2008/07/ella_27.html' title='Ella'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02713074353597472827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_1Lqcq_Mbu_M/R8Q130TNyhI/AAAAAAAAABg/jQkemQeY-tA/S220/Ella+and+Mommy+2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-3445420928818634208</id><published>2008-06-27T19:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-27T20:01:24.571-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sounds Like Crap to Me</title><content type='html'>As usual, Ella was pooping her diaper tonight.  She stopped moving, became silent, and got "all teared up."  Helping Ella prepare for potty training, Shell asked "Are you pooping, Ella?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Max jumps in, "Really?  It doesn't sound like pooping."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hmmm...what does pooping sound like, Max?"  (Only dads ask these questions.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Drop.  Drop.  Drop.  Drop."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, at least we know he's potty trained!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-3445420928818634208?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/3445420928818634208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=3445420928818634208' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/3445420928818634208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/3445420928818634208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2008/06/sounds-like-crap-to-me.html' title='Sounds Like Crap to Me'/><author><name>Cory</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16019338685571735198</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-17814421092913340</id><published>2008-06-18T20:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-18T20:25:39.651-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Brave Bilingual Babe</title><content type='html'>A few months ago, I gave Cailia some food and she said "Shi-shi" (thank you in Chinese). I didn't think I heard her right, so I asked her what she said and she said "Shi-shi, thanks!" She now alternates saying thanks in English and Chinese. Then tonight when I was putting her to bed, I put her baby down next to her and she turned to the baby and said "Ni-hao" (Hi in Chinese). Who said you can't learn anything from tv?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also today I was trying to open a bottle of bubbles and couldn't get the seal off of it so I said quietly mostly to myself, "I need something sharp", but just kept trying to do it with my fingers. A few minutes later I heard Cailia yelling "Help Mommy, I stuck!"  So I went to see what was wrong, and found her with only her belly balancing on my laptop desk, teetering back and forth about to fall off, with my scissors in her hand! I didn't know she knew I kept them up there! I also didn't know she could figure out that when I need something sharp, scissors will help! She's smart, but too brave for me! She also climbed up on Jeff's motorcycle twice today. She reminds me a lot of Jen, good thing her legs aren't long enough to climb the walls yet!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-17814421092913340?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/17814421092913340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=17814421092913340' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/17814421092913340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/17814421092913340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2008/06/my-brave-bilingual-babe.html' title='My Brave Bilingual Babe'/><author><name>Kristi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08782202225991307914</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-3364217884531122816</id><published>2008-06-13T19:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-13T21:02:59.088-07:00</updated><title type='text'>At Least He's Honest</title><content type='html'>For the past couple of months, we've been using charts with stickers to reward Max's good behavior.  When he fills a chart, he earns what he's been working towards.  (It's been lots of different things like a new bike, a trip to Jumpin' Jacks, etc.)  Most recently, he was working on earning some new Curious George stamps.  A couple of days ago he told me, "Mom, after I earn my Curious George stamps, don't do any more charts because I don't want to have to be good anymore.  I want to do things I'm not supposed to do."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-3364217884531122816?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/3364217884531122816/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=3364217884531122816' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/3364217884531122816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/3364217884531122816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2008/06/at-least-hes-honest.html' title='At Least He&apos;s Honest'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02713074353597472827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_1Lqcq_Mbu_M/R8Q130TNyhI/AAAAAAAAABg/jQkemQeY-tA/S220/Ella+and+Mommy+2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-850857729012626762</id><published>2008-04-16T18:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T07:05:58.167-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Clever Boy</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1Lqcq_Mbu_M/SAaucTbMkiI/AAAAAAAAADs/MyAJpyRv818/s1600-h/wink.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1Lqcq_Mbu_M/SAaucTbMkiI/AAAAAAAAADs/MyAJpyRv818/s200/wink.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190027421864989218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I teach the Sunbeams (3 &amp;amp; 4 year olds) in church.  A few weeks ago in class I was passing around a bag with an apple in it and the kids were trying to guess what was inside without looking.  After Jace had a turn with it, he looked at me and discreetly said, "Why don't you just tell me what it is?"  - and then he winked at me!  I couldn't believe it!  He not only knew how to wink, but he knew how to use it to his advantage!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-850857729012626762?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/850857729012626762/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=850857729012626762' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/850857729012626762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/850857729012626762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2008/04/i-teach-sunbeams-3-4-year-olds-in.html' title='Clever Boy'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02713074353597472827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_1Lqcq_Mbu_M/R8Q130TNyhI/AAAAAAAAABg/jQkemQeY-tA/S220/Ella+and+Mommy+2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1Lqcq_Mbu_M/SAaucTbMkiI/AAAAAAAAADs/MyAJpyRv818/s72-c/wink.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-4284539077057179887</id><published>2008-04-06T12:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-06T12:28:05.705-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bum-shaker</title><content type='html'>Yesterday at dinner, Carter was sort of standing up in his seat saying, "shake-a-bum-bum, shake-a-bum-bum" while he shook his little bum. &lt;br /&gt;I'd never seen him do this before so I asked him, "Where did you learn that?"&lt;br /&gt;He said, "At my Grandma's house"&lt;br /&gt;I asked, "Grandma Brown?"&lt;br /&gt;He said, "yeah, &lt;u&gt;my&lt;/u&gt; Grandma"&lt;br /&gt;"Who taught it to you?"&lt;br /&gt;"My Grandpa."&lt;br /&gt;Apparently Dad has a bum-shakin' side of him that we've never seen. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-4284539077057179887?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/4284539077057179887/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=4284539077057179887' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/4284539077057179887'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/4284539077057179887'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2008/04/bum-shaker.html' title='Bum-shaker'/><author><name>Barbara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01378474264046066437</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-6685618752547880791</id><published>2008-04-05T20:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-05T22:15:45.455-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Nurturing Boy</title><content type='html'>The other day, I had to use the bathroom and Carter followed me in, closing the door behind him.  He then turned off the light and said, "I-I-I-I-It'ch awight (he's going through a stuttering phase), Me hewe.  Don't be cawed." --(translation: It's alright, I'm here, don't be scared).  He's always looking out for me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-6685618752547880791?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/6685618752547880791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=6685618752547880791' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/6685618752547880791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/6685618752547880791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2008/04/my-nurturing-boy.html' title='My Nurturing Boy'/><author><name>Barbara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01378474264046066437</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-4685805888938291371</id><published>2008-03-11T19:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-11T19:59:47.881-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Too Much Information</title><content type='html'>Max and Ella were sick and had diarrhea all last week.  They both finally fully recovered yesterday.  So today I took Max to get his hair cut.  He was being especially good and very talkative to the hair dresser.  At one point she asked me, "How do you feel. . . " (asking me about the length in one spot) when Max said, "Better!  I have &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;real&lt;/span&gt; poopies now!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-4685805888938291371?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/4685805888938291371/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=4685805888938291371' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/4685805888938291371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/4685805888938291371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2008/03/too-much-information.html' title='Too Much Information'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02713074353597472827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_1Lqcq_Mbu_M/R8Q130TNyhI/AAAAAAAAABg/jQkemQeY-tA/S220/Ella+and+Mommy+2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-4141481028739666080</id><published>2008-03-03T23:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-04T13:36:39.407-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cailia's new nickname</title><content type='html'>Today Xander, Cailia and I were all eating dinner, when Xan looked over at Cailia and said "Hi Hittie, that's your new nickname because you hit everyone!" Cailia has been getting a bit violent lately, and Xander usually takes the brunt of it without ever hitting her back, usually he just falls to the floor and cries. I don't think he realizes he's bigger than she is! I did just realize though that anytime she hits someone and it's not on the face or head, she's usually trying to give them a "good game" (i.e. smacking them on the bum like football players do), so it's not all out of the need to assert her power. Although, I've been trying to ween her the past few weeks, and the first few times she tried to nurse and I told her we weren't going to do that anymore, she got a defiant look on her face and tried to hit me, so sometimes she does just want to show us she's the one in charge.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-4141481028739666080?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/4141481028739666080/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=4141481028739666080' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/4141481028739666080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/4141481028739666080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2008/03/cailias-new-nickname.html' title='Cailia&apos;s new nickname'/><author><name>Kristi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08782202225991307914</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-1327129926673714299</id><published>2008-02-27T19:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T07:05:58.397-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sounds Good</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1Lqcq_Mbu_M/R8YwpUTNylI/AAAAAAAAACA/R0upzCTrTes/s1600-h/Jack+j.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1Lqcq_Mbu_M/R8YwpUTNylI/AAAAAAAAACA/R0upzCTrTes/s320/Jack+j.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171874708463667794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Max and Ella love listening to Jack Johnson.  Their favorite song is "La Da" (aka Bubbletoes--the chorus is "La da da da da da").  When we get in the car, Ella often requests it.  (Max has stopped requesting it--just to be different.)  There's one part where Jack says, "Mmmm"  between phrases.  One time when we were listening to it and he said "Mmmm," Ella followed up with, "Mmmm.  Yummy."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-1327129926673714299?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/1327129926673714299/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=1327129926673714299' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/1327129926673714299'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/1327129926673714299'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2008/02/max-and-ella-love-listening-to-jack.html' title='Sounds Good'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02713074353597472827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_1Lqcq_Mbu_M/R8Q130TNyhI/AAAAAAAAABg/jQkemQeY-tA/S220/Ella+and+Mommy+2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1Lqcq_Mbu_M/R8YwpUTNylI/AAAAAAAAACA/R0upzCTrTes/s72-c/Jack+j.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-3637327270814850952</id><published>2008-02-26T09:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-26T08:21:00.267-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pancakes</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Jen wrote this a while ago, and I guess it never posted.  So I'll post it now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday I made a whole bunch of pancakes but accidently used baking soda instead of baking powder. They tasted horrible! The kids were quite dissappointed since they were really looking forward to such a nice breakfast. When I finally figured out what I had messed up, I explained to Nathaniel that I forgot "Kaiser Natron" was baking soda, not baking powder. He yelled "Curse you German language!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-3637327270814850952?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/3637327270814850952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=3637327270814850952' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/3637327270814850952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/3637327270814850952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2008/02/pancakes.html' title='Pancakes'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02045170460117597567</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-471776235505008943</id><published>2008-02-19T23:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T07:05:58.542-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Rock Band rockers</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1Lqcq_Mbu_M/R8Q3r0TNyjI/AAAAAAAAABw/UTTjQ2KZRyE/s1600-h/Cailia+Drums.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1Lqcq_Mbu_M/R8Q3r0TNyjI/AAAAAAAAABw/UTTjQ2KZRyE/s320/Cailia+Drums.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171319498041313842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Barb, your post reminded me to write about this one. Jeff got Rock Band for Christmas, and both kids &lt;em&gt;love&lt;/em&gt; playing it, especially the drums. When Xan sits down at the drums to play a song, he'll point the drumstick at me and say, "Mommy, are you ready to rock?"  So I'll say "I'm ready to rock, are you ready to rock?", then he says "yeah, then let's ROCK!" with the drumsticks up in the air! Then when the song's over, he says "thank you, good niiiiiiiiiiiiight!" (yes, there has been some Daddy coaching involved)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's also great at singing, and I've been really surprised how many of the songs he knows almost all the words, and it's so cute to watch him singing it with the microphone. Also, when ever we're driving around in the car and a Rock Band song comes on, he gets really excited and lets us know it's a Rock Band song.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-471776235505008943?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/471776235505008943/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=471776235505008943' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/471776235505008943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/471776235505008943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2008/02/rock-band-rockers.html' title='Rock Band rockers'/><author><name>Kristi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08782202225991307914</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1Lqcq_Mbu_M/R8Q3r0TNyjI/AAAAAAAAABw/UTTjQ2KZRyE/s72-c/Cailia+Drums.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-1754282695212882736</id><published>2008-02-15T18:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-15T18:24:54.305-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My little rockers</title><content type='html'>We were in the car listening to the "Curious George" movie soundtrack, and Carter kept telling Nate to make the music “weally wowed” (really loud).  When it was loud enough, Kai yelled from the back seat, “Yeah Dad, that’s how you &lt;em&gt;really&lt;/em&gt; rock it!”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-1754282695212882736?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/1754282695212882736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=1754282695212882736' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/1754282695212882736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/1754282695212882736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2008/02/my-little-rockers.html' title='My little rockers'/><author><name>Barbara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01378474264046066437</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-6442306108605121889</id><published>2008-02-08T20:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-08T20:42:18.219-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Always One Up On Us</title><content type='html'>Since we moved to our new house, Max has referred to his room as his "house."  One day, I noticed him looking at our kitchen cabinets.  He pointed to one of the knots in the wood and asked what that "hole" was.  After I explained it to him he thought for a minute and said, "My house is better than yours.  It doesn't have any holes in it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He also told me his house is better because it has 14 smoke detectors and 5 fans.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-6442306108605121889?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/6442306108605121889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=6442306108605121889' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/6442306108605121889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/6442306108605121889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2008/02/always-one-up-on-us.html' title='Always One Up On Us'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02713074353597472827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_1Lqcq_Mbu_M/R8Q130TNyhI/AAAAAAAAABg/jQkemQeY-tA/S220/Ella+and+Mommy+2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-4404608393122550727</id><published>2008-02-02T12:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-02T12:38:23.001-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Poor Max</title><content type='html'>On our first day in our new house, I found Max in the office with his pants around his ankles.  When I came in he said, "Where's the place where I go potty?!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(The office is right next to the bathroom, so he wasn't too far off.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-4404608393122550727?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/4404608393122550727/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=4404608393122550727' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/4404608393122550727'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/4404608393122550727'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2008/02/poor-max.html' title='Poor Max'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02713074353597472827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_1Lqcq_Mbu_M/R8Q130TNyhI/AAAAAAAAABg/jQkemQeY-tA/S220/Ella+and+Mommy+2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-4356575543138395029</id><published>2008-01-29T12:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-04-03T21:44:52.281-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Eva's greatest enemy</title><content type='html'>Eva has had a runny nose for the last few weeks and so much wiping has made her little nose very raw with open sores. We've been putting saline in her nose and wiping it every night and each time she gets more and more upset. Poor thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So today Joe took Eva into our room so he could rest while she watched a show (Diego and I were gone). He woke up to her saying "No!........No!........No!........No!........" then he found her on the floor pulling each tissue out of the box and shouting "No!" then throwing it in a pile on the floor. It was a brand new box, but she was so mad at those tissues she got every one of them out!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-4356575543138395029?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/4356575543138395029/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=4356575543138395029' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/4356575543138395029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/4356575543138395029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2008/01/evas-greatest-enemy.html' title='Eva&apos;s greatest enemy'/><author><name>Annette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18215879869772416887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Adrm2dP8ZaA/TyBlVIegKBI/AAAAAAAAADo/EPOnglQlJ5w/s220/nette%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-2924397017986523933</id><published>2008-01-26T12:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-26T12:58:08.523-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Xander slips and calls his grandpa "Bruce"</title><content type='html'>Last fall sometime, Susan and I went to dinner on a Friday night with Jeff and Kris and kids at a Village Inn near their house. We first tried an IHOP that didn't work, but when I went in to the front desk to inquire while the group waited in the foyer, Xander said to his mom, "Did Bruce go in there?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kristi started to laugh and said, "Did you call him Bruce?" Xander got this worried expression on his face like he had slipped and put his hand over his mouth, and said, "I mean Potts."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-2924397017986523933?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/2924397017986523933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=2924397017986523933' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/2924397017986523933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/2924397017986523933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2008/01/xander-slips-and-calls-his-gradpa-bruce.html' title='Xander slips and calls his grandpa &quot;Bruce&quot;'/><author><name>pots</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11409662913361309373</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-3191150491345253624</id><published>2008-01-26T12:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-26T12:46:28.965-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Eva's telephone message to grandpa</title><content type='html'>On Tuesday, November 27, at about 7:45 as I was locking up my office to get home for 8:00 scripture reading, I noticed the phone mail light on, so I took the message.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To my surprise, a sweet little voice said: "Hi... It's Eva... Call me..." After this very clear grown-up talk, she then lapsed into baby talk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was blown away how grown up it sounded--like a five year old (she was about 18 months at the time). I just kept laughing all the way home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day I got on the phone with Annette. I thought maybe her mother had coached her, but Annette said she finally gave in when Eva kept bugging her to call Grandpa.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-3191150491345253624?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/3191150491345253624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=3191150491345253624' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/3191150491345253624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/3191150491345253624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2008/01/evas-telephone-message-to-grandpa.html' title='Eva&apos;s telephone message to grandpa'/><author><name>pots</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11409662913361309373</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-2680759694904893956</id><published>2008-01-25T18:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-25T19:01:45.759-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's nice to be the favorite</title><content type='html'>Tonight at dinner Kai said, "Mommy, guess who I love more than anyone in the whole entire world?"&lt;br /&gt;I said, "Who?"&lt;br /&gt;He said, "You!"&lt;br /&gt;Carter said, “and me?”&lt;br /&gt;Kai said, “Yeah, and you, Carter”&lt;br /&gt;Nate said, “What about me?”&lt;br /&gt;Kai said, “You’re not so fun, 'cause you spank me.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-2680759694904893956?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/2680759694904893956/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=2680759694904893956' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/2680759694904893956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/2680759694904893956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2008/01/its-nice-to-be-favorite.html' title='It&apos;s nice to be the favorite'/><author><name>Barbara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01378474264046066437</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-194441332535132827</id><published>2008-01-21T17:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-21T18:35:00.235-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Interesting . . .</title><content type='html'>I just had an interesting conversation with Max:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Max: "Do you remember when I was a mommy and you were a kid?"&lt;br /&gt;Me: "No, I don't remember that."&lt;br /&gt;Max: "You couldn't cross the street--and I could.  And I could drive."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-194441332535132827?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/194441332535132827/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=194441332535132827' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/194441332535132827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/194441332535132827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2008/01/interesting.html' title='Interesting . . .'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02713074353597472827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_1Lqcq_Mbu_M/R8Q130TNyhI/AAAAAAAAABg/jQkemQeY-tA/S220/Ella+and+Mommy+2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-9179350341170436968</id><published>2008-01-08T12:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-08T12:29:45.546-08:00</updated><title type='text'>From Liz</title><content type='html'>These guys from Questar Gas came to switch out our meter. So I unlocked the gate to let them through. They were making a lot of noise while they were doing it and Tori was looking out the front window trying to see. I showed her that she could look out the other window right above them. So she watched them then she told me "mom the one with the hat waived at me!" then a minute later she was so excited telling Danny "There are these two guys and one has a hat and one doesn't and they're handsome, Danny, they're so handsome!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-9179350341170436968?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/9179350341170436968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=9179350341170436968' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/9179350341170436968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/9179350341170436968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2008/01/from-liz.html' title='From Liz'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02713074353597472827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_1Lqcq_Mbu_M/R8Q130TNyhI/AAAAAAAAABg/jQkemQeY-tA/S220/Ella+and+Mommy+2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-3252813482354879860</id><published>2008-01-04T12:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-04T12:19:28.686-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The TV Monitor</title><content type='html'>A few weeks ago I was really tired so when I put Cailia down for a nap, I turned on the tv for Xan and fell asleep on the couch. After a little while, Xander woke me up saying "Mom, I'm about to watch too much tv!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-3252813482354879860?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/3252813482354879860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=3252813482354879860' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/3252813482354879860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/3252813482354879860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2008/01/tv-monitor.html' title='The TV Monitor'/><author><name>Kristi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08782202225991307914</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-6636517121980554997</id><published>2008-01-01T19:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-01T19:12:06.463-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Carter's prayer</title><content type='html'>I was helping Carter say his prayer tonight and when he paused for my help I saw my chance to help bedtime go smoother, so I whispered to him, "Please help me to be good."  So he said, "Please help Mommy to be good."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-6636517121980554997?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/6636517121980554997/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=6636517121980554997' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/6636517121980554997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/6636517121980554997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2008/01/carters-prayer.html' title='Carter&apos;s prayer'/><author><name>Barbara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01378474264046066437</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-3052350183672826919</id><published>2007-12-17T07:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-17T07:19:16.573-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Baby Name Ideas</title><content type='html'>A couple of days ago, Kai yelled in to me from the other room where he was playing with Carter, "If we have a boy, we should name him Santa Claus. Carter wants to."&lt;br /&gt;Then Carter piped in,"Yeah, liddoe baby anta cuash" (translation: "little baby Santa Claus"--with Carter lately everything that is at all small is described as "liddoe baby . . .")&lt;br /&gt;Then Kai said, "And if it’s a girl we’ll just name her Mrs. Claus."&lt;br /&gt;I guess that makes our job easier. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-3052350183672826919?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/3052350183672826919/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=3052350183672826919' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/3052350183672826919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/3052350183672826919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2007/12/baby-name-ideas.html' title='Baby Name Ideas'/><author><name>Barbara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01378474264046066437</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-2866791879320896180</id><published>2007-12-17T07:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-17T07:13:10.399-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Kai likes to rock</title><content type='html'>We were eating lunch and Kai was singing, “Santa Clause is coming to town . . .” then he says, “Mom, let’s rock this house with that song.” &lt;br /&gt;That may have come from the fact that he really loves the Bruce Springsteen version of that song and always asks me to play it again when we hear it on the radio.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-2866791879320896180?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/2866791879320896180/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=2866791879320896180' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/2866791879320896180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/2866791879320896180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2007/12/kai-likes-to-rock.html' title='Kai likes to rock'/><author><name>Barbara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01378474264046066437</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-2882494472771999203</id><published>2007-12-14T05:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-14T05:53:21.016-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Nice Try</title><content type='html'>Max's latest excuse for doing things he's not supposed to do is, “Well, Ella's teaching me how.”, or “Ella taught me how to.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-2882494472771999203?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/2882494472771999203/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=2882494472771999203' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/2882494472771999203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/2882494472771999203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2007/12/nice-try.html' title='Nice Try'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02713074353597472827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_1Lqcq_Mbu_M/R8Q130TNyhI/AAAAAAAAABg/jQkemQeY-tA/S220/Ella+and+Mommy+2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-1470396000670170954</id><published>2007-12-11T18:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-11T18:34:59.009-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't You Wish...</title><content type='html'>We were at a park in St. George today and there was a label on the playground that said “Max systems.”  Max said, “It says M-A-X!  That must mean it's my park, Mom and Dad!”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-1470396000670170954?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/1470396000670170954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=1470396000670170954' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/1470396000670170954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/1470396000670170954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2007/12/dont-you-wish.html' title='Don&apos;t You Wish...'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02713074353597472827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_1Lqcq_Mbu_M/R8Q130TNyhI/AAAAAAAAABg/jQkemQeY-tA/S220/Ella+and+Mommy+2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-1997466530250026745</id><published>2007-11-21T17:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-21T18:01:35.992-08:00</updated><title type='text'>(not so) Sneaky Max</title><content type='html'>A few weeks ago, Max found some scissors in our drawer in the kitchen.  Ella was asleep and I was sitting on the couch.  Max looked at me and said, “Mom, do you want to take a nap?  Mom, go take a nap in your room!”.  So I said, “Why Max?” and he said, “I want to play with these scissors.” &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Later on, I helped him with the scissors because I wanted to see what he wanted to do.  He went straight to the garage (as if he had been planning it for a while) and he got out Cory's electrical tape.  Then he cut three long pieces and put them on the railings of the stairs down into the garage.  (On the vertical parts, so there were three vertical black stripes in a row.)  Then he did the same thing on the other side of the staircase.  He told me they were “sounds.”  It took me a while, but I finally figured out that it was from Blues Clues.  Steve drew a symbol representing a sound in the Handy Dandy Notebook that looked just like that.  I thought that was pretty clever.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-1997466530250026745?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/1997466530250026745/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=1997466530250026745' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/1997466530250026745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/1997466530250026745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2007/11/not-so-sneaky-max.html' title='(not so) Sneaky Max'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02713074353597472827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_1Lqcq_Mbu_M/R8Q130TNyhI/AAAAAAAAABg/jQkemQeY-tA/S220/Ella+and+Mommy+2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-5984838398000515662</id><published>2007-11-14T21:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-14T21:15:22.808-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ella and Max</title><content type='html'>This first one happened way back in June, but no one else is posting, so here goes:&lt;br /&gt;A few weeks ago, Ella was in our bed in the morning and Max came in right after he woke up.  She looked over at him and then she took her binky out of her mouth and handed it straight to Max.  He usually steals it out of her mouth, so I guess she just thought she would save him the trouble.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, Max and Ella got in their first "real" fight.  It was so cute; I was trying so hard not to laugh so I could try to break it up.  It started when Ella knocked over some blocks that Max had spent a long time building.  Max got really mad and started crying.  I could tell he wanted to hit her, but he knows that's not okay, so he grabbed a plastic spoon and was poking her arm with it.  Then he tried to head butt her, but didn't really have much success.  At the same time, Ella was hitting him over and over with all the force a 15-month-old has.  They were both crying and very mad.  It was one of the funniest things I've ever seen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-5984838398000515662?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/5984838398000515662/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=5984838398000515662' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/5984838398000515662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/5984838398000515662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2007/11/ella-and-max.html' title='Ella and Max'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02713074353597472827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_1Lqcq_Mbu_M/R8Q130TNyhI/AAAAAAAAABg/jQkemQeY-tA/S220/Ella+and+Mommy+2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-159103684868361764</id><published>2007-09-18T19:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-18T20:02:44.326-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Couple of Max Stories</title><content type='html'>A few days ago we got some shoes in the mail for Ella.  They had some strings on them holding them together.  Max got the scissors and while he was helping me cut the strings he said, “It won't be long now, Ella.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I often talk to Max about things he did when he was a baby so that he doesn't feel left out when I praise Ella for learning something new.  A couple of days ago, Max started a conversation by saying, “When I was a baby and Ella was a big boy . . .”  &lt;br /&gt;I think it's cute that Max can't imagine our family without Ella!&lt;br /&gt;(I think he sometimes thinks all babies are girls, so it makes sense that he thinks Ella must have been a big boy.  It also makes sense why he doesn't quite understand why he won't be a girl when he grows up.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-159103684868361764?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/159103684868361764/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=159103684868361764' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/159103684868361764'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/159103684868361764'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2007/09/couple-of-max-stories.html' title='A Couple of Max Stories'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02713074353597472827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_1Lqcq_Mbu_M/R8Q130TNyhI/AAAAAAAAABg/jQkemQeY-tA/S220/Ella+and+Mommy+2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-2161242084466802489</id><published>2007-09-06T22:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-06T22:04:59.803-07:00</updated><title type='text'>No self-esteem issues here!</title><content type='html'>This morning Xan was listening to a Laurie Berkner song (on a kids show) where they said "You're not perfect, no you're not."  Xan turned to me and said in a kind of sad/worried voice, "Mom, they said I'm not perfect, but I am perfect!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-2161242084466802489?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/2161242084466802489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=2161242084466802489' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/2161242084466802489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/2161242084466802489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2007/09/no-self-esteem-issues-here.html' title='No self-esteem issues here!'/><author><name>Kristi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08782202225991307914</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-4364108917249773612</id><published>2007-09-02T08:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-02T08:29:04.769-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just like Xan</title><content type='html'>Max has asked me a few times, "Mom, does kids and germs go hand in hand?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-4364108917249773612?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/4364108917249773612/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=4364108917249773612' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/4364108917249773612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/4364108917249773612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2007/09/just-like-xan.html' title='Just like Xan'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02713074353597472827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_1Lqcq_Mbu_M/R8Q130TNyhI/AAAAAAAAABg/jQkemQeY-tA/S220/Ella+and+Mommy+2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-5708407820247570736</id><published>2007-08-28T21:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-28T21:41:11.468-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Too much TV?</title><content type='html'>Today I told Xan thank you for helping me and he said "it was my pleasure!" Then later I put his stool up to the counter so he could see what I was doing, and he said "That's too close for comfort!" and he moved it away a little. When I asked him where he learned those phrases, he gave me his usual answer anytime I ask him where he learns things. He said "I learned it from school that's by the Daybreak gym, but we haven't learned about airplanes yet."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-5708407820247570736?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/5708407820247570736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=5708407820247570736' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/5708407820247570736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/5708407820247570736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2007/08/too-much-tv.html' title='Too much TV?'/><author><name>Kristi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08782202225991307914</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-5281092864600955107</id><published>2007-08-27T14:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-27T14:23:01.745-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Funny Xan</title><content type='html'>A few days ago Xander handed me his big Lightning McQueen and asked me to dry it. I asked him how it got so wet and he said "I bless-you'd all over it!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-5281092864600955107?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/5281092864600955107/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=5281092864600955107' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/5281092864600955107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/5281092864600955107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2007/08/funny-xan.html' title='Funny Xan'/><author><name>Kristi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08782202225991307914</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-4544267869576548131</id><published>2007-08-27T07:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-27T07:44:02.091-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lydia, too</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;When I was at Steinbergs' a few days ago, Lydia and I had this conversation:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Lydia: Our house is too old.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Me: Are you too old?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Lydia: No.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Me: Are you too young?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Lydia: No. I'm two and a half.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;She seems to be a punster already!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;G'ma Brown&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-4544267869576548131?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/4544267869576548131/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=4544267869576548131' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/4544267869576548131'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/4544267869576548131'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2007/08/lydia-too.html' title='Lydia, too'/><author><name>G'ma B</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16096392304357262312</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-7967196180487996589</id><published>2007-08-15T14:44:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-15T14:45:19.693-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Deep thought from Max</title><content type='html'>A few weeks ago, Max asked me, "Mommy, are you happy and you don't know it?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-7967196180487996589?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/7967196180487996589/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=7967196180487996589' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/7967196180487996589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/7967196180487996589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2007/08/deep-thought-from-max.html' title='Deep thought from Max'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02713074353597472827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_1Lqcq_Mbu_M/R8Q130TNyhI/AAAAAAAAABg/jQkemQeY-tA/S220/Ella+and+Mommy+2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-6573011185397617035</id><published>2007-08-13T22:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-13T23:07:41.451-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Funny day</title><content type='html'>Today, Xander was having me sing him lullabies while he was pretending to sleep, then he would sing them back to me so I could sleep. When he was singing "Rock-a-bye Baby", at the end he said "and down will come Mommy, into my heart." (I usually sing "into my arms" instead of "cradle and all", I think it sounds much nicer and less violent :) )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then later, while I was going to the bathroom, Xander walked by and saw me and said "you need a magazine, I'll go get you one." He learned that from Jeff, I've seen Xander a few times sitting on the toilet reading one of those inserts that come in the inside of his DVD's, and Jeff told me that's what Xan went downstairs to find for me to read.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cailia, Xander, and I were sitting on the back porch watching Jeff mow the lawn today, and Cailia kept pointing at our neighbor's dog really excitedly and saying "tchee", and then growling. I wasn't sure what she was pointing at, so I asked her where Honey was (that's the dog's name), and she'd point right at her. Then I'd say "what does the doggy say?" and she'd growl every time! I think she thinks all animals growl, cuz she was doing that with every animal we saw at the zoo too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-6573011185397617035?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/6573011185397617035/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=6573011185397617035' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/6573011185397617035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/6573011185397617035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2007/08/funny-day.html' title='Funny day'/><author><name>Kristi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08782202225991307914</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-6012399523748749714</id><published>2007-07-30T12:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-30T12:15:05.203-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Kai the artist</title><content type='html'>Kai was drawing a picture of me and told me, "I'm making you what you were when you were my real mom, with long hair".  Apparently without long hair, I'm not his real mom. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-6012399523748749714?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/6012399523748749714/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=6012399523748749714' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/6012399523748749714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/6012399523748749714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2007/07/kai-artist.html' title='Kai the artist'/><author><name>Barbara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01378474264046066437</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-2924188866916459269</id><published>2007-07-13T10:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-13T10:10:12.888-07:00</updated><title type='text'>He sees right through me!</title><content type='html'>A couple of weeks ago Cory and I went to the temple while our neighbors watched the kids.  On our way back we picked up some food from a drive-thru.  While we were at our neighbors' house picking up the kids Max said, “Mom, next time stay here.”  (Meaning he didn't want me to leave him.)  So I said, “But Max, Mommy and Daddy wanted to go to the temple.”  Then he said, “No.  You went to a restaurant.”  (And to think we tried to give him the old “going to the temple” line.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-2924188866916459269?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/2924188866916459269/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=2924188866916459269' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/2924188866916459269'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/2924188866916459269'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2007/07/he-sees-right-through-me.html' title='He sees right through me!'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02713074353597472827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_1Lqcq_Mbu_M/R8Q130TNyhI/AAAAAAAAABg/jQkemQeY-tA/S220/Ella+and+Mommy+2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-1018148857949983128</id><published>2007-07-09T12:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-09T13:00:17.495-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Xan at church</title><content type='html'>Yesterday at church, Jeff had to take Cailia to the back of the chapel because she was crying and Xander followed them back there. He started running circles around Jeff and Jeff told him he needed to be reverent. Xander asked "Is being reverent being bored?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then in nursery we were talking about families and one of the kids asked if he had a dad, and I told him yes, everyone in the room has a dad. Xander said, "I don't have a dad, I just have a father."  Then later he said, "I'm just kidding, I do have a dad."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another cute thing at church yesterday, Xander seems to be the little nursery stud. When we first came into Sacrament meeting, a cute little girl that lives by us saw him come in and yelled "Xander!" really excitedly, and ran up to say hi. Then in nursery, we have 2 little girls in there who both always want to play with Xander and sit by him. One of them was really flirting with him yesterday, and when her dad came to pick her up, she said bye to Xan at least 10 times. It makes me smile to see other little girls love him as much as I do. (These were the 3 girls that were at his birthday party)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-1018148857949983128?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/1018148857949983128/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=1018148857949983128' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/1018148857949983128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/1018148857949983128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2007/07/xan-at-church.html' title='Xan at church'/><author><name>Kristi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08782202225991307914</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-5800730800873173857</id><published>2007-07-06T23:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-06T23:19:07.630-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Xander's Interpretation</title><content type='html'>Today I was asking Xander if he wanted a grilled cheese sandwich (without the cheese), and I thought he told me "yeah, I want a boiled cheese sandwich!" I thought it was kinda wierd that he got boiled from me saying grilled, but you never know what kids are going to hear. Then later I heard him talking about it some more, and I realized he was saying "boyd cheese sandwich", cause he thought if Cailia and I eat girld cheese sandwiches, he must eat boyd cheese sandwiches!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-5800730800873173857?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/5800730800873173857/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=5800730800873173857' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/5800730800873173857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/5800730800873173857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2007/07/xanders-interpretation.html' title='Xander&apos;s Interpretation'/><author><name>Kristi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08782202225991307914</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-3936478685414613841</id><published>2007-06-27T18:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-27T18:47:07.710-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Max is officially smarter than I am.</title><content type='html'>A few days ago we were driving and we passed a big bus.  I said, “Max look at that bus!  There's lots of kids in that bus.”  Then Max said, “Lots of kids?  Are there any daddies on that bus?”  and I said, “No.  Just kids.”  Max replied, “Is a kid driving that bus?” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then today I was baking some cupcakes for my neighbor.  Max asked me if the stove was on and I said "Yes."  He asked me a few more times and I said "Yes" every time.  (I realized later he was giving me the opportunity to think about my answer.)  Then he said, "Mom, it's not the stove, it's the oven."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-3936478685414613841?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/3936478685414613841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=3936478685414613841' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/3936478685414613841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/3936478685414613841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2007/06/max-is-officially-smarter-than-i-am.html' title='Max is officially smarter than I am.'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02713074353597472827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_1Lqcq_Mbu_M/R8Q130TNyhI/AAAAAAAAABg/jQkemQeY-tA/S220/Ella+and+Mommy+2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-1085855008522937889</id><published>2007-06-24T22:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-24T22:13:08.283-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Diego on being sick</title><content type='html'>Last week Diego got a mosquito bite on his shin.  A few days later his entire lower leg was swollen, from his knee halfway down his foot.  Joe and I were talking about it, and were a little worried, so we decided I should call "ask a nurse".  Diego picked up on it, and kept reminding me to call.  While I was on the phone he asked, "Mommy, I'm sick huh, my leg is sick huh?"  As soon as I hung up with the nurse Diego said "Ok, now we have to get popsicles and drinks and everysing."  As soon as I was able to stop laughing I explained that because it's his leg that's sick, and he doesn't need his leg to swallow, he can still eat normal stuff.  Poor kid, he was so excited to be sick!  He did get a lot of attention and treats anyway, of course.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-1085855008522937889?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/1085855008522937889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=1085855008522937889' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/1085855008522937889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/1085855008522937889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2007/06/diego-on-being-sick.html' title='Diego on being sick'/><author><name>Annette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18215879869772416887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Adrm2dP8ZaA/TyBlVIegKBI/AAAAAAAAADo/EPOnglQlJ5w/s220/nette%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-6066953839897270439</id><published>2007-06-24T22:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-24T22:08:21.780-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Other Diego abbreviations</title><content type='html'>Diego loves strawb's on his cereal.  And he loves to drink roob (root beer).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-6066953839897270439?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/6066953839897270439/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=6066953839897270439' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/6066953839897270439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/6066953839897270439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2007/06/other-diego-abbreviations.html' title='Other Diego abbreviations'/><author><name>Annette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18215879869772416887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Adrm2dP8ZaA/TyBlVIegKBI/AAAAAAAAADo/EPOnglQlJ5w/s220/nette%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-843456483089644639</id><published>2007-06-21T08:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-21T08:54:36.784-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Max's sense of humor</title><content type='html'>Today we were in the car and Ella was wearing Max's sweatshirt so it was really big and her arms were way inside the sleeves.  Ella had been sleeping, and then when she woke up, Max looked at her and said, “Ella Bobby!  You lost your arm!  You're never going to see it again!”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-843456483089644639?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/843456483089644639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=843456483089644639' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/843456483089644639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/843456483089644639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2007/06/maxs-sense-of-humor.html' title='Max&apos;s sense of humor'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02713074353597472827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_1Lqcq_Mbu_M/R8Q130TNyhI/AAAAAAAAABg/jQkemQeY-tA/S220/Ella+and+Mommy+2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-7576029513663810276</id><published>2007-06-18T12:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-27T18:42:21.269-07:00</updated><title type='text'>hip little guy</title><content type='html'>Diego likes to shorten words lately, I guess he's picked up on how we do that sometimes.  His latest is fragile.  He just told me (while playing with his monster trucks) "I have to tell Xan these are frag (fraj), so we don't break them."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-7576029513663810276?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/7576029513663810276/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=7576029513663810276' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/7576029513663810276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/7576029513663810276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2007/06/hip-little-guy.html' title='hip little guy'/><author><name>Annette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18215879869772416887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Adrm2dP8ZaA/TyBlVIegKBI/AAAAAAAAADo/EPOnglQlJ5w/s220/nette%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-815745300955560680</id><published>2007-06-17T19:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-17T19:42:33.565-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cory's attempt at sex ed.</title><content type='html'>A couple of nights ago, I was putting Max to bed and he said, “Mom, you're a nut.”  I kind of laughed and said, “Yah.  I'm a nut.”  Then Max said, “Mommy's a nut and Daddy's a bolt.”  Cory and Max had been working on our fence gate earlier that day so I guess Cory saw it as a good teaching opportunity.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-815745300955560680?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/815745300955560680/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=815745300955560680' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/815745300955560680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/815745300955560680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2007/06/corys-attempt-at-sex-ed.html' title='Cory&apos;s attempt at sex ed.'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02713074353597472827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_1Lqcq_Mbu_M/R8Q130TNyhI/AAAAAAAAABg/jQkemQeY-tA/S220/Ella+and+Mommy+2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-666256235762566860</id><published>2007-06-13T08:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-13T08:16:43.812-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Spotty the Dog</title><content type='html'>Kai likes to pretend he's a dog and his name is Spotty the Dog.  Sometimes he's "Spotty the meeny miney (aka teeny tiny) dog just this big" (holding his fingers up about a half inch apart).  When he talks he'll say, "this is how I say, 'I want to go hiking today: woof woof (in a high-pitched voice)'".  He does this for everything he says when he's a dog. ("this is how I say, 'I want some Little Einsteins cereal in the family room with no milk: woof woof woof woof' . . . this is how I say thanks, 'woof'"). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, he was being a dog and I told him it was time to go and to get some shoes on.  He came crawling out of his room with his shoes on and with another pair of shoes on his hands.  Carter likes to imitate him and be a dog too, so he got out a pair of "front paw shoes"  and crawled around too.  It's always nice when they play well together.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-666256235762566860?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/666256235762566860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=666256235762566860' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/666256235762566860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/666256235762566860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2007/06/spotty-dog.html' title='Spotty the Dog'/><author><name>Barbara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01378474264046066437</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-7898409303653162651</id><published>2007-06-13T00:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-13T00:55:44.604-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Be careful what you say</title><content type='html'>Xander was playing peek-a-boo with Cailia on our bed and he was hiding under a blanket when she climbed on top of him. He pulled the blanket down and said "whoa, Cailia! You scared the crap out of me!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Xander's latest phrase he keeps saying is "What the" or "what the heck!" Barb, the first one reminds me of Jen Minnich :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-7898409303653162651?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/7898409303653162651/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=7898409303653162651' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/7898409303653162651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/7898409303653162651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2007/06/be-careful-what-you-say.html' title='Be careful what you say'/><author><name>Kristi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08782202225991307914</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-2433547751479803138</id><published>2007-06-13T00:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-13T00:35:04.271-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A few more Xander stories</title><content type='html'>A few days ago Xander and I were outside painting (I'm painting a shelf for Cailia and he likes to help by painting the cardboard I'm using to protect the garage floor and getting paint all over both of us). He went over on the lawn to play and dig in the dirt, but then the sprinklers came on, which he is terrified of. He started screaming as loud as he could and tried to run to get out of them, but he couldn't see much because of all the water, so he ended up running through the longest way possible. He also lost his flip flop half way through and had to go back to get it (another thing he flips out about), so by the time he finally got out of the sprinklers, he had water pouring down his head into his face and he was soaked! And very upset about it. Jeff ran outside thinking he'd been hurt, then when he saw how wet he was he quickly figured out what happened and started laughing. It was really sad, but cute too, and I think he's actually a little less scared of sprinklers now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For some reason, Xander gets wedgies all the time, especially in his carseat. He calls the weegies though, so now we do too so he doesn't learn the right way cuz I love that. Lately though he's been shortening it, and every once in a while he'll yell from the back seat "I have a weege!"  Jeff and I are usually laughing too hard to help him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-2433547751479803138?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/2433547751479803138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=2433547751479803138' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/2433547751479803138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/2433547751479803138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2007/06/few-more-xander-stories.html' title='A few more Xander stories'/><author><name>Kristi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08782202225991307914</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-42299327830490915</id><published>2007-06-12T19:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-12T20:01:31.375-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What some of us would like to hide</title><content type='html'>The other day we were talking about camouflage and Kai said, "If I wear camouflage underwear then no one will notice it's a bum, right?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-42299327830490915?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/42299327830490915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=42299327830490915' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/42299327830490915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/42299327830490915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2007/06/other-day-we-were-talking-about.html' title='What some of us would like to hide'/><author><name>Barbara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01378474264046066437</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-5374095372564010563</id><published>2007-06-11T18:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-11T18:52:16.123-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Funny Danny story...</title><content type='html'>...from last year.  (I was hoping Liz would post it, but she hasn't yet and it's too good to waste!  It's not as good 3rd person, but I'll try any way.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tyson was taking Danny to the bathroom in a public restroom in Yellowstone.  It was a really gross and stinky bathroom.  While in there, Danny asked Tyson, "We don't lick these toilets, huh Dad?"  Surprised, Tyson responded, "No Danny, we don't lick &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;any&lt;/span&gt; toilets."  To that Danny said, "Oh.  I do.  I lick the toilets at home because they're cold."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-5374095372564010563?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/5374095372564010563/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=5374095372564010563' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/5374095372564010563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/5374095372564010563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2007/06/funny-danny-story.html' title='Funny Danny story...'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02713074353597472827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_1Lqcq_Mbu_M/R8Q130TNyhI/AAAAAAAAABg/jQkemQeY-tA/S220/Ella+and+Mommy+2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-6145528744921082765</id><published>2007-06-07T09:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-07T09:41:41.814-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Yummy</title><content type='html'>I just got Max a drink of water and left the room.  When I came back in the kitchen, he said, "This water is de-lick-ish!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-6145528744921082765?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/6145528744921082765/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=6145528744921082765' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/6145528744921082765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/6145528744921082765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2007/06/yummy.html' title='Yummy'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02713074353597472827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_1Lqcq_Mbu_M/R8Q130TNyhI/AAAAAAAAABg/jQkemQeY-tA/S220/Ella+and+Mommy+2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-3566071812221938222</id><published>2007-05-31T08:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-31T08:31:45.786-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I love how kids interpret things</title><content type='html'>Today after Max and Cory got out of the shower, I told Max I would help him get dressed.  He said he wanted Daddy to help him (as always).  Then he said, "But first he has to put on his Garlic Undies."  (Garment undies.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-3566071812221938222?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/3566071812221938222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=3566071812221938222' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/3566071812221938222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/3566071812221938222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2007/05/i-love-how-kids-interpret-things.html' title='I love how kids interpret things'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02713074353597472827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_1Lqcq_Mbu_M/R8Q130TNyhI/AAAAAAAAABg/jQkemQeY-tA/S220/Ella+and+Mommy+2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-173483464398553312</id><published>2007-05-30T21:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-30T21:17:46.501-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Donut Ding has another pal</title><content type='html'>Xander has an imaginary friend too. His name is zip-eh-AY-eh. He first started saying Zipehayeh when he first started learning to sing songs but didn't know the words, then in the past few months, that became his imaginary friend. As we asked him more about this friend, we found out he was a little animal the size of a fly, that flies around and comes with us whenever we go somewhere in the car. He got Zipehayeh at a Zipehayeh store (of course) which is usually somewhere in our house, and he bought one for Jeff, Cailia, and me at the store. He also scares away monsters for Xander at night when he's scared.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I already wrote about some of the jokes he likes to tell, but there's a new one that I probably can't write well enough to get the full effect, but I'll try. "A horse walks into a bar and the bar falls on his head (while bonking himself on the head with his hand) and he hurts himself...  WHY THE LONG FACE!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-173483464398553312?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/173483464398553312/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=173483464398553312' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/173483464398553312'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/173483464398553312'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2007/05/donut-ding-has-another-pal.html' title='Donut Ding has another pal'/><author><name>Kristi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08782202225991307914</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-266354554603629167</id><published>2007-05-30T14:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-30T14:03:41.784-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lydia</title><content type='html'>This is from Cathy, I thought I'd post it for her:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's a funny thing I heard Lydia say last night.  She had been asking me to read her piles of books all day (as usual) and last night she brought a paper to me and asked me to write Lydia "Steinbook"!  I had never noticed her pronunciation of our last name before!  It certainly is appropriate for her!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-266354554603629167?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/266354554603629167/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=266354554603629167' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/266354554603629167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/266354554603629167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2007/05/lydia.html' title='Lydia'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02713074353597472827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_1Lqcq_Mbu_M/R8Q130TNyhI/AAAAAAAAABg/jQkemQeY-tA/S220/Ella+and+Mommy+2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-8160217392867247550</id><published>2007-05-29T09:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-29T18:45:34.021-07:00</updated><title type='text'>one more...</title><content type='html'>Every time Diego finds money he yells "cash back!" and puts it in his pocket.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-8160217392867247550?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/8160217392867247550/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=8160217392867247550' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/8160217392867247550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/8160217392867247550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2007/05/one-more.html' title='one more...'/><author><name>Annette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18215879869772416887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Adrm2dP8ZaA/TyBlVIegKBI/AAAAAAAAADo/EPOnglQlJ5w/s220/nette%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-3109160371225028388</id><published>2007-05-29T09:04:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-29T09:05:34.373-07:00</updated><title type='text'>p.s.</title><content type='html'>Diego just informed me that Donut Ding went home.  I asked where he lives, and he said "far-o-far away in Germany!"  Keep an eye...or ear...or 6th sense out for him Jen.  :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-3109160371225028388?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/3109160371225028388/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=3109160371225028388' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/3109160371225028388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/3109160371225028388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2007/05/ps.html' title='p.s.'/><author><name>Annette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18215879869772416887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Adrm2dP8ZaA/TyBlVIegKBI/AAAAAAAAADo/EPOnglQlJ5w/s220/nette%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-3766180726241162640</id><published>2007-05-28T10:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-28T10:53:08.182-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Jiminy Cricket has a new pal</title><content type='html'>I forgot about this blog!  So I'll try to catch up on a few cute and funny things about D and E:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know a few of you had imaginary friends, but I don't remember having one myself.  Diego has had one for a while now, I think since we moved in here.  It's fun to see how he plays with his "friend", and to remember Shelly playing with Jiminy Cricket.  Especially because he came up with it all on his own.  Diego's friends name is Donut Ding.  Every few weeks Diego announces "Donut Ding is here!"  Then for the rest of the day he tells me when Donut Ding needs food or toys (generally things Diego wants more of for himself :).)  They've been playing Blue's Clues together today. &lt;br /&gt;Yesterday Diego told me he wanted to make Jell-o cookies.  I laughed and asked him how to make them.  He said (with huge hand actions and lots of jumping) "first you mix it up all together, then you toss it in the air, then you put it in a pan, then you cook it." &lt;br /&gt;Eva took about 3 steps last Wednesday, and has been doing more every day.  I love those wobbly first steps.  She's the type that tries to get as many steps in as fast as she can before she falls.  I think she's up to about 7 now.  It's so exciting, but a little bittersweet.  I miss my baby, especially because she's always been so eager to grow up.  I used to think she looked just like Joe's family, but she's getting curls in back and I think she looks like some of Liz's baby pictures. &lt;br /&gt;Sarah (landlord upstairs) told me yesterday that their hometeacher (also in our ward) was talking to them about Eva (not realizing we lived downstairs).  He told them he normally doesn't think he wants another baby, but every sunday when he sees that baby up front with the dark brown eyes and big smile he starts to get "baby hungry."  It's so fun to have a beautiful baby who makes everyone at church smile!  (I know you all know what I'm talking about!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-3766180726241162640?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/3766180726241162640/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=3766180726241162640' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/3766180726241162640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/3766180726241162640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2007/05/jiminy-cricket-has-new-pal.html' title='Jiminy Cricket has a new pal'/><author><name>Annette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18215879869772416887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Adrm2dP8ZaA/TyBlVIegKBI/AAAAAAAAADo/EPOnglQlJ5w/s220/nette%2Bprofile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-5296241961047979118</id><published>2007-05-16T00:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-16T00:57:09.565-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Xander's Jokes</title><content type='html'>A few days ago, Xander told me he loved me, so I said "I love you too."  Then he thought for a minute and said "I love you three!" with a big grin. I laughed and told him that was a good joke. He realized it gets a good reaction, so he says it all the time now (along with a few other jokes we've taught him), so Jeff said it back to him and he said "That's my joke, Daddy. Get your own jokes!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-5296241961047979118?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/5296241961047979118/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=5296241961047979118' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/5296241961047979118'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/5296241961047979118'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2007/05/xanders-jokes.html' title='Xander&apos;s Jokes'/><author><name>Kristi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08782202225991307914</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-4901598722211663612</id><published>2007-05-12T15:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-12T15:33:23.391-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sassy Max</title><content type='html'>Today I made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for lunch.  As I was making them, I was telling Cory about how Mom used to get out the cutting board and line up the bread slices to make 5+ at a time.  I said, "It's pretty crazy."  A couple of minutes later, when we were still talking about sandwiches, Max said, "Your mom's crazy."  (Sorry, Mom.  Happy Mother's Day!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few minutes ago, Max was sitting up to the bar eating a snack.  I decided to sit down next to him.  As soon as I sat down he looked at me and said. "That's Clifford's seat.  Move it Mom!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-4901598722211663612?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/4901598722211663612/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=4901598722211663612' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/4901598722211663612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/4901598722211663612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2007/05/sassy-max.html' title='Sassy Max'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02713074353597472827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_1Lqcq_Mbu_M/R8Q130TNyhI/AAAAAAAAABg/jQkemQeY-tA/S220/Ella+and+Mommy+2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-2579607814776756814</id><published>2007-05-11T01:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-11T01:13:00.595-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kid Quotes'/><title type='text'>Xander's Nicknames</title><content type='html'>This isn't so much a funny story about Xander, as the latest list of the nicknames he has for me. He calls me Mom or Mommy from time to time, but a few months ago he started calling me Kristi (as most 2 year olds eventually try out). Then I told him my full name was Kristina, so he started calling me Kristinina (not a typo).  Then one day he asked me if I was Mimi, and not knowing what he meant, I said "Yep, I'm Mimi." So now he calls me Mimi all the time too, although I still don't know what that means, and I'm not sure he does either. Then a couple days ago I guess he heard Jeff call me Babe-eh (I don't know how you would really spell that), and now he calls me that too. It's so funny to hear him yell that when he's calling for me. He's such a funny kid.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-2579607814776756814?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/2579607814776756814/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=2579607814776756814' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/2579607814776756814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/2579607814776756814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2007/05/xanders-nicknames.html' title='Xander&apos;s Nicknames'/><author><name>Kristi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08782202225991307914</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-2756298786531473211</id><published>2007-05-10T03:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-10T03:16:15.128-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Funny Josh Quote</title><content type='html'>Today Josh, Bekah and I were in the pediatrician's office. I asked another mom in the office how old her daughter was. She responded that she was 21 months old. Then Josh asked me how old Bekah was and I told him she's 26 months old. To which he replied "Yeah, but in real life she's 2."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another one from a while ago:&lt;br /&gt;Josh and Caleb were eating muffins and Caleb started making a mess with the crumbs. I told him, "Caleb, use your head!" A few minutes later when Josh was done, I asked him if he was finished and he said "Yes, but I didn't use my head, I used my hands." joshua. (He just typed his name for fun.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-2756298786531473211?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/2756298786531473211/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=2756298786531473211' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/2756298786531473211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/2756298786531473211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2007/05/funny-josh-quote.html' title='Funny Josh Quote'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02045170460117597567</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-4975922118655180262</id><published>2007-05-07T06:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-07T06:58:22.795-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Max's honesty</title><content type='html'>For the last couple of months, Max has been getting up early.  Since Cory is usually getting ready for work, he lets Max get in the shower with him so I can sleep in a little longer.  This morning though, Max was busy playing with his toys when Cory was ready to get in.  When Cory asked if he wanted to get in, Max said, "No.  That's not fun for me any more."  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I usually sing songs to Max before he goes to bed.  A couple of weeks ago I went in his room to sing him songs and he told me he didn't want me to sing, but he wanted me to "just talk."  I asked him what he wanted me to talk about and he couldn't really think of anything.  So I suggested Nephi.  I started by saying, "Nephi was a good boy, huh Max."  And he said, "Yah.  He didn't scream and he didn't go pee pee in his pants."  (Obviously the things Max has been struggling with.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-4975922118655180262?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/4975922118655180262/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=4975922118655180262' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/4975922118655180262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/4975922118655180262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2007/05/maxs-honesty.html' title='Max&apos;s honesty'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02713074353597472827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_1Lqcq_Mbu_M/R8Q130TNyhI/AAAAAAAAABg/jQkemQeY-tA/S220/Ella+and+Mommy+2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-7950126715471343932</id><published>2007-05-05T20:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-05T20:53:54.036-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Carter's silent protest</title><content type='html'>Nate and I always go in and peek on our boys when they're asleep, right before we go to bed.  Last Thursday they'd had a bit of a rough time going to bed (kept turning on the light and jumping on their beds, etc.) and Nate had to go in and discipline them.   We were both sort of feeling bad about it when we went in to check on them, but discovered that Carter has his own way to protest the "Mom &amp; Dad regime": he was deep asleep and completely naked!  He was lying modestly on his side so only his bum was showing and his pajamas and diaper were dropped to the side of his bed.  I guess he showed us! What he doesn't know is that I thought it was so cute, I couldn't help but take a picture.  (Mom &amp; Dad regime= 1, Carter= 0) Boy, he'll love it when he's 16 and we pull that out and show it to his dates.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-7950126715471343932?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/7950126715471343932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=7950126715471343932' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/7950126715471343932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/7950126715471343932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2007/05/carters-silent-protest.html' title='Carter&apos;s silent protest'/><author><name>Barbara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01378474264046066437</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-4866641474663740636</id><published>2007-05-05T12:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-05T12:38:01.266-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Kid Quotes</title><content type='html'>From Kristi:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a funny Xander story that just happened a few minutes ago. Jeff's dad was here and gave us some money to take the kids out to do something fun. I was telling Xander some of the fun things we could do and I said we could take you to Jungle Jim's or that Kagaroo place in Orem (a new kids place with tons of bouncy toys to jump and slide on), and Xander said, "Or you could buy me a Kangaroo!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a funny one that Xan said a couple weeks ago though. One morning he woke up crying so I went in to see what was wrong. When I asked him, he said crying "I heard someone say Quack! And that maked me sad."  Then he thought and cried a little more and then said "Maybe it was a duck." It was so hard for me to be understanding and console him without laughing! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From Liz:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here are a couple that I remembered about Tori. I should warn you the second one's a bit graphic. A week ago Sunday we were sitting on one of the side benches in Sacrament meeting and Tori kept standing up on the hymn books in the holders in the bench in front of us and I kept telling her to get down. Then she started to climb up on the molding on the wall next to us looking for a spot to put her hands so she could keep climbing up. I pulled her down and told her that I think it makes Jesus happy when we sit quietly in Sacrament meeting and she grinned and said "No, Jesus wants me to climb!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday Tori was wearing underwear in church for the first time. Tori was sitting there in Sacrament meeting kind of feeling her underwear and said excitedly to me (and not quiet enough) "Mom, there's a hole in my bum!" I immediately got out a wipe to clean her finger and she started saying (not quiet enough) "there's not poop on my finger!" over and over again, as I turned very red. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From Barb:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's one that Kai said today.  He was helping me puree strawberries for fruit leather and as I was handing him strawberries, he was moving his hands up and down like he was juggling something invisible while he sort of chanted/sang, "spiders juggaling juggaling juggaling, spiders juggaling juggaling . . . ". (I spelled that how he pronounced it, instead of how it should be spelled)  I asked him where he heard that and he said he just made it up, then he told me, "spiders juggle when no one's looking." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From Rob:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan has been asking many questions recently about what things are appropriate to do on the Sabbath.  My simple answer has been that we go by the guidance of the Spirit.  Now he is asking me how I feel inside about various activities.  Recently, after asking about biking, I told him we should seek activities that help us serve and remember the Savior.  He asked, "What if we put a picture of Jesus on my bike?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And From Me:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, so this one isn't as funny for Max as it is embarassing for me.  Yesterday I had a shower at my house for Cory's brother's fiancee.  So I was cleaning the house all day.  When I started mopping the kitchen floor, Max looked at the mop and said, "What's that, Mommy?".  I know, pretty sad.  What can I say?  I hate mopping.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple of weeks ago, we told Max he could have some peaches. After a couple minutes of eating, he asked, "Where's the shiz?" (Peach-Shiz.) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today Max was playing at the kitchen sink. He was leaning over, looking down the drain and he asked, "Is that the water treatment facility?" (A while ago he asked where the water goes after it goes down the drain and we explained the whole process to him.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-4866641474663740636?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/4866641474663740636/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=4866641474663740636' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/4866641474663740636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/4866641474663740636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2007/05/kid-quotes_05.html' title='Kid Quotes'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02713074353597472827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_1Lqcq_Mbu_M/R8Q130TNyhI/AAAAAAAAABg/jQkemQeY-tA/S220/Ella+and+Mommy+2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-8118104801644628567</id><published>2007-05-05T12:32:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-05T12:32:48.859-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Kid Quotes</title><content type='html'>Another Max story, as told by Cory:&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Max and I were working in the backyard with our Chinese neighbor, "Gary."  Gary doesn't speak much english, so I tried some Chinese - "Nee-How-Mah?' (how are you) was the only thing I knew.  Max caught on, but thought the new phrase was Gary's name.  Whenever Max needed help, he'd cry:  "Nee-homa, come here!"&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Later, we learned more about Clifford and Big Bunny's lineage.  It turns out that Barbara and Spencer (Nate's co-worker) are Clifford's mommy and daddy (don't tell Nate.)  On occasion, Clifford has two mommies and two daddies, including Nate and Michelle.  Nate, we discoverd, is always "at home making dinner," while Spencer is always "at work."  As for Clifford and Big Bunny, they have two kids - a daughter named "brother-sister" and a son named - "Nee-homa."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-8118104801644628567?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/8118104801644628567/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=8118104801644628567' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/8118104801644628567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/8118104801644628567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2007/05/kid-quotes.html' title='Kid Quotes'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02713074353597472827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_1Lqcq_Mbu_M/R8Q130TNyhI/AAAAAAAAABg/jQkemQeY-tA/S220/Ella+and+Mommy+2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243033688650255351.post-2613682086799691762</id><published>2007-05-05T12:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-05T12:31:07.531-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kid Quotes'/><title type='text'>Our cute and funny kids</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Hey, I decided that it would be easier to post all of these things on a blog for our family.  That way we don't have to fill up our email inboxes, and we can send our other family members here to check it out!  I'll start by copying the past posts so that we have some good stories to read again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/243033688650255351-2613682086799691762?l=shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/feeds/2613682086799691762/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=243033688650255351&amp;postID=2613682086799691762' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/2613682086799691762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/243033688650255351/posts/default/2613682086799691762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellsfamilystuff.blogspot.com/2007/05/our-cute-and-funny-kids.html' title='Our cute and funny kids'/><author><name>Michelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02713074353597472827</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_1Lqcq_Mbu_M/R8Q130TNyhI/AAAAAAAAABg/jQkemQeY-tA/S220/Ella+and+Mommy+2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
