<?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-4594549870968650868</id><updated>2012-01-03T21:19:36.756-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Four Little Princesses</title><subtitle type='html'>In this Chaotic Castle ... The Damsel in Distress is Mommy</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>215</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4594549870968650868.post-7661125283067188762</id><published>2012-01-03T21:07:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-03T21:19:36.766-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It's a Wonderful Life</title><content type='html'>Yes it is.  We had a great holiday.  The girls fully enjoyed every minute of their time off from school.  And you know what, I did too.  Sometimes having everyone home for days and days and days, well, it can be overwhelming.  But this time around, I really enjoyed not having a schedule, not having to be anywhere at any particular time.  It was easy, and fun, and well, did I say this already, easy.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Christmas Eve we went to the Smiths.  It is a nice tradition we have.  We really had a great time this year.  We went before church, had a little cocktail hour and present exchange.  We then headed back to their house for a delicious dinner.  It was easy to get the girls to get in the car and come home, after all, there was a special visitor coming that night!  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We got home and did a quick snack for S&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;anta&lt;/span&gt;, threw out the reindeer food, wrote a note to Santa and the tooth fairy (Maura lost her tooth again this year!) and went to bed.  The girls woke up around 7:00 on Christmas morning and peered over the balcony to see that Santa did indeed come.  They were thrilled.  It was a lazy but fun and exciting day just staying at the house doing puzzles, performing magic shows and driving around our new (toy) minivan.  B also did this with hair extensions in.  These were her two favorite gifts of the year.  Mags got an American girl Doll and lots of clothes.  Maura got membership into the peep of the month club! And Kerri adored her Dora pillow pet.  Both sets of grandparents came and spent the day with us.  My dad made the girls Jewelry boxes... very sweet.  Their names and his are engraved.  I hope they will treasure it always,  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We did the train and the light show the next day and exchanged gifts with the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;O'Reillys&lt;/span&gt; on Monday.  The kids had a ball and loved all their gifts, and trip to the Please Touch Museum rounded off a great visit with the Arlington &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;O'Reillys&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The rest of the week was spent doing some simple but fun things with the girls.  NYE was even fun.  We went for a hike at VF park and had a fabulous dinner at home in the dining room... table set by Mags.  Roasted marshmallows, read my book.  A great way to kick out the old and bring in the new.  Oh, and we booked a trip to Mexico for our 10&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; anniversary with the Shorts!  SO excited.  All in all a great holiday.  So sad it is over, so sad that another year has gone by and my girls are getting older and older.  I wish I could bottle this time and keep it forever.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-7661125283067188762?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/7661125283067188762/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=7661125283067188762' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/7661125283067188762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/7661125283067188762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2012/01/its-wonderful-life.html' title='It&apos;s a Wonderful Life'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-9095717765737926506</id><published>2011-12-18T21:07:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-18T21:22:16.515-05:00</updated><title type='text'>KJ is 3!</title><content type='html'>Wow, our little Care Bear, Our Krazy J-Z, Our Kerri Jean, is 3 years old.  And she is going on 6.  Tonight at dinner Sean asked her to ask politely for some more chili (she loves chili).  She said, very clearly, I do not want to say that.  I will not say that.  And that is our Kerri.  She knows what she wants and knows what she does not want.  And you are sure to know it too.  With all her stubbornness, she is still a cutie.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She loves to snuggle and will rub your face, hair, back, etc if you lie down beside her.  She loves her sisters and especially loves playing with Bridget when they are home alone.  I love hearing her call to her sisters and ask them to play with her.  The other day, she was at my parents' house; when we called to say goodnight she first asked how I was doing (really the first time I had a coherent two way conversation with her on the phone) then asked about each of her sisters.  It melts my heart when they love on their sisters.  It breaks my heart when they fight (which is often!).  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Kerri loves Dora; she loves to color; she is always ready to go somewhere.  She loves going to school, but still clings to my legs when  drop her off.  She LOVES her pacifier (I know, she is three!).  Kerri is not easy to make smile or laugh, but when she does laugh, it is a great belly laugh, and you can't help but smile when you hear it.  She will ask for waffles, then say "Actually mom, I'll have pancakes."  She loves the word actually and I think sometimes says the wrong thing first just so she can say "actually."  She takes her time and really seems very unaware of any sense of urgency in anyone else.  It takes her especially long to get in her carseat.  I think the more of a hurry I am in, the longer she takes!  She picks out her own clothes the night before and notices if I make any changes at night (trying to match or make weather appropriate) and insist that I change it back to what she put it out.  It is usually pretty comical!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Kerri is a funny kid and she makes me laugh everyday.  She loves to read books and line things up.  She loves blocks and building things.  She loves her friends Gappy and Jimmy and gets along great with them.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We love you Kerri and hope you strong personality serves you well in life.  Keep walking to your own beat and enjoy the view! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-9095717765737926506?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/9095717765737926506/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=9095717765737926506' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/9095717765737926506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/9095717765737926506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2011/12/kj-is-3.html' title='KJ is 3!'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-7359113519162960111</id><published>2011-12-02T23:09:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-02T23:23:33.130-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Maggie Mae</title><content type='html'>Thank you Maggie, my sweet darling 6 year old Maggie.  Thank you for being you.   feel very lucky to have you in my life.  You are my little partner in crime.  I love spending time with you; I love shopping with you; I love decorating the house with you, setting the table with... really, just about everything with you!  I am amazed by all the style you have.  I am amazed by your fashion sense and by the way you see things.  I can remember when you were so shy and bashful, not anymore!  You are full of spirit and full of life.  You have friends that you really love being with, and they love being with you.  And I so happy to see you playing with your friends and love seeing how happy your friends are to see you and be with you.  I love that your truly care about your sisters and try your best to make them happy.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You are starting to read, and that is so fun to see.  I love having you read to me at night.  You love reading too.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You are playing soccer, and are pretty good too!  You scored a few goals this season and will start your indoor soccer season soon.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You are still dancing.  You are doing great in class too.  You are always so excited to go and really so excited to do anything.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You skip off to school every morning.  You love it and your teacher said you are doing great.  She said if there was one thing to change (and there was only one thing) it would be for you to slow down a bit!  It runs in the family!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You help me set the table and do the centerpieces all the time... and you are really good. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You are very emotional.  Lately you have returned to having full blown tantrums again.  We are trying to figure out the cause, but not sure yet.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You are great on the playground... climbing especially!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am sad to see my little fashionista growing up, but so excited to see what is in store for you!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-7359113519162960111?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/7359113519162960111/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=7359113519162960111' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/7359113519162960111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/7359113519162960111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2011/12/maggie-mae.html' title='Maggie Mae'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-5342091717760656559</id><published>2011-10-05T16:00:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-05T16:15:53.046-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Maura is seven... how did this happen?</title><content type='html'>I have resigned myself to the fact that at every birthday of every girl, I will ask, "How did that happen?"  I now know what those crazy "old" people were talking about when they said, enjoy it, it goes so fast (and I scoffed in their faces).  Holy moly.  It DOES go by so fast.  And I am honestly tired just thinking about it let alone living it.  The good news is, it is all good news right now, so for that I am grateful.  Everyone is loving their lot in life right now.  Everyone is basically happy and content, dare I say, even thriving!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sean is busy at work, which is a good thing, but is still able to coach two of his daughters' soccer teams, make it to Donuts for Dads, go to Back to School Nights, and sign up to be a mystery reader here and there.  Yeah for him.  The other night I emailed KJ's teacher to tell her what fun Sean had and the Donuts for Dads and how excited Kerri was when Sean came in the door after work "still" wearing the tie she made him at school earlier that day.  Her email reply, really made me stop and fall in love with Sean a little bit more (I know, sappy).  She said:  "&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; "&gt;Well, your family truly is special!  When a daddy knows how to make his daughter's day that is something to be revered!"  And you know what.  She is right.  Now, if only Sean read this blog so her could enjoy the compliment.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Maura's birthday party was a carnival theme. We had a clown do balloon animals and a magic show, we had carnival games (in the basement due to rain) and a homemade pinada.  Lots of prizes.  lots of candy.  lots of fun.  lots of relief when it was all over... oh, and one of Maura's favorite things... lots of presents.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We are knee deep in soccer season with Maura and Maggie both playing.  Maggie is really loving it.  She loves having all her girlfriends on the team with her.    She even scored a goal at the last game.  Maura is still in love with soccer too.  We are now working on modesty with her.  She seems to really excel at it (last game she scored 17 goals!).  She is not at all bragging to her team or the other team, but wants a "prize" or a "treat" from me.  Not sure how to handle that one.  Really, I do not know what to do.  When she only scored a goal or two, or sometimes did not really touch the ball, we would say, you can get something from the snack bar (or something small like that) if you score or block a goal (even if she did not we still gave it to her).  This year at her first game, Sean said he would give her a dime for every goal she scored.  I think she scored four.  The next game she scored 7... now 17.  I know a dime is not much, but it is probably not a good lesson.  Really, again, I am torn.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mags and B are doing dance again this year.  They love it because it is with their friends Eva and Marin.  It is nice because KJ goes to babysitting and I get to work out during it.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Daisy meetings start this week.  I am Maggie's leader this year, so that will be pretty neat.  It will be interesting to see how she acts with me around.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Again, all is good, and that is good!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-5342091717760656559?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/5342091717760656559/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=5342091717760656559' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/5342091717760656559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/5342091717760656559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2011/10/maura-is-seven-how-did-this-happen.html' title='Maura is seven... how did this happen?'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-4556499768461227405</id><published>2011-09-17T22:14:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-17T22:15:18.516-04:00</updated><title type='text'>GOAL!</title><content type='html'>Just a little bragging... Maura scored 7 goals at her soccer game today!  Way to go Maura.  The best part... she had a smile on her face the whole time!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-4556499768461227405?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/4556499768461227405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=4556499768461227405' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/4556499768461227405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/4556499768461227405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2011/09/goal.html' title='GOAL!'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-3504840475526263892</id><published>2011-09-17T22:02:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-17T22:14:29.446-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Some more firsts.</title><content type='html'>Well, this momma is exhausted from all the firsts that have happened round these parts for the last three weeks.  Maura started school August 31, then Mags started September 7, then B started September 12 and KJ started September 13.  Won't it be nice when one day they all walk off at the same time... hopefully hand in hand, smiling and loving each other fiercely!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well EVERYONE is doing great.  I was most worried about B.  She is definitely momma's little girl, and cried a lot even when I leave the house with Sean at home or one of our parents, so I thought going to school this year might be tough.  Not the case.  She is really doing a great job and feels very proud of being in pre-K and of all the new things she is learning.  I am sure it helps that she has an awesome teacher.  M and M both and her and I just adore her.  She made such a big deal out of Bridget writing her name and cutting her circle at the "lifestories" (aka meet the teacher), she really made B feel so proud of herself.  And me so proud of her too.  B is definitely starting pre-K at a different skill level than M and M (she is almost a year younger than they were and has a different set of interest (and had a mom that was very busy with two older sisters and a baby sister on the way-poor middle child).  I am just so happy for her though.  She really is doing great and feeling great about herself.  She is asking for playdates and wanting to have her own social life.  Another thing that I think got neglected as the middle child.  I am going to love watching her grow this year, and hate it at the same time.  I am ready for a "freeze in time"  I love the kids this age and would keep it ere for a while if I could.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;KJ also is loving school.  I kind of knew she would.  She was so excited to hold her book bag.  If you asked out loud in a room who was starting school tomorrow, she would excitedly raise her hand and say (in her deep voice) "ME!"  She calls her teachers Miss Cammy (which is right) and Kristen (which should be Miss Mary Chris.  Oh well.  She loves them and loves school.  SO far no tears and no accidents.  Yea Kerri.  I hope you fall in love with school this year and never look back!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-3504840475526263892?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/3504840475526263892/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=3504840475526263892' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/3504840475526263892'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/3504840475526263892'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2011/09/some-more-firsts.html' title='Some more firsts.'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-6442729808029375894</id><published>2011-09-07T17:27:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-07T17:37:14.092-04:00</updated><title type='text'>We have another kindergartner</title><content type='html'>Yes we do!  Mags started kindergarten today.  It really just kind of went like any other school day would.  She wasn't nervous, not really excited, just ready.  At the last minute yesterday, they added another kindergarten class to her school and moved some kids around, so I wanted to be sure to take her up to school today and make sure she went to the right spot, alas, I was met at the door by the "escort" who stole... I mean, took, her away from me and walked her to her classroom.  I still have a hard time adjusting to our elementary school and the lack of every day communication with the teachers, but I am trying.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3 hours later I picked Mags up in carline and she had a huge smile on her face.  She was happy.  She said she had fun with her friends, got to color and her teacher was nice.  I guess that is really what it is all about.  After last year's experience with kindergarten, I am looking forward to a fresh start and a whole new perspective (mine) on things.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mags, I am very proud of who you are growing into.  I can't believe the little girl who cried every day at drop off and would not go in front of the classroom for the holiday show, or even talk to your teacher for months, just two years ago, now runs off to kindergarten without a thought.  Your confidence and willingness to try new things (with a dear friend nearby of course,) is a pleasure to watch.  I am looking forward to this exciting new chapter with you!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-6442729808029375894?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/6442729808029375894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=6442729808029375894' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/6442729808029375894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/6442729808029375894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2011/09/we-have-another-kindergartner.html' title='We have another kindergartner'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-2565632248349427194</id><published>2011-09-06T16:41:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-06T16:54:51.463-04:00</updated><title type='text'>School Days</title><content type='html'>We officially have two grade-schoolers.  Holy Moly!  Maura started first grade last week without a hitch.  Despite her pleas to homeschool, she is back in the public school system.  She seems to be liking it a lot.  She did, however, mention that second grade she is definitely going the homeschool route because school is interfering with her social life, and by social life, I mean 5 day visits to Oba and Grandad's house!  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Her teacher seems nice, although I have not really met her, which does bother me a bit.  She has class with two of her "BFFs" from last year and two boys she was in class with too (not BFFs, but friend none the less).  She will be playing soccer this year, which she is ecstatic about.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After the first day of school she informed me that the next day she wanted to ride the bus too and from school (she would not ride the bus at all last year) and wanted to buy lunch.  Little Miss Independent.  Maura has actually always been a easy child.  She was an easy pregnancy, and easy, easy baby, easy toddler and now is a easy, I don't know, what do you call a 6 -almost 7- year old, young girl?!?!  I sure am proud of my girl and everything that she does.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mags will be starting Kindergarten tomorrow.  She is super psyched.  She has her lifelong BFF Eva in her class and her newest BFF Marin in her class.  We even noticed that all three are sitting at the same table!  They will be psyched!  We met with her teacher today.  She seems very nice and very friendly.  She mentioned numerous times that it was kindergarten and we could relax a bit.  So much different than last year's experience.  I am looking forward to a great year.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-2565632248349427194?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/2565632248349427194/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=2565632248349427194' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/2565632248349427194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/2565632248349427194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2011/09/school-days.html' title='School Days'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-3374894993961596345</id><published>2011-08-08T09:13:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-08T11:57:09.816-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Homeschooling</title><content type='html'>I was a teacher in my previous life, this is true.  However, I taught HS English.  People hear that and assume I can teach a child to read or write.  I cannot.  This is obvious from the reading/writing abilities of my children- and my patience level when trying to work with them.  Despite all this, Maura has asked, rather begged, me to home school her next year.  Apparently I agreed.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am pretty sure the conversation went like this...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;LOTS of background noise, yelling, crying, singing inlcuded&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Maura:  Mom&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me: (ignore)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Maura:  Mom, Mom, Mom&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me:  (ignore)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*there are probably five other "mom"s being said at this time&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Maura:  MOM&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me:  WHAT?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Maura:  WIll you homeschool me this year?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me:  Sure, whatever Maura.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Maura:  (walking away)  Thanks mom&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me: (also walking-the other way) Your welcome Mo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And so it happened.  Apparently I promised my soon to be 1st grader to homeschool her this year.  At first I thought if I ignored it, it would go away.  I realized that was not working.  So, I tried and tried to convince her it was a bad idea.  Mommy, barely knows how to read herself, you know?  Then we even did some sample lessons.  She loved them.  The popcorn and drinks probably did not help!  What can I say?  I even made popcorn when I really did teach.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We went "Back to School" shopping the other day.  I said these clothes were only if she went to real school.  She said she needed to look good at home to do good (I know- well).  WHen we were checking out with piles and piles of clothes, the saleslady asked if these were her back to school clothes, she proudly said YES, I am being homeschooled this year.  The lady looked at me (kind of strangely) and said, "wow, that is great.  Lucky you."  When my friend Meghan asked her what she is most excited about for 1st grade, she just said, "Well, I was supposed to be homeschooled."  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When I did tell her (I assumed she knew) that she would not have the same teacher as last year, she did sigh a sigh of relief and say "oh, well, then I don't HAVE to be homeschooled, but I would still prefer it."  She also mentioned she had nightmares about her teacher from last year.  When I asked her why she never told me, she said, "you would just say, She's fine, Maura, go back to bed"... poor thing! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;SO I have about 3 weeks to convince her that having me as a homeschool teacher would indeed NOT be a good idea.  at.  all.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-3374894993961596345?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/3374894993961596345/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=3374894993961596345' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/3374894993961596345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/3374894993961596345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2011/08/homeschooling.html' title='Homeschooling'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-8651782278167946507</id><published>2011-07-30T21:37:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-30T21:42:23.692-04:00</updated><title type='text'>There is someone for everyone.</title><content type='html'>This summer I worked at a summer camp at Episcopal Academy, which is right down the road from us.  Jenn Smith and I "job shared,"  one of us worked, while the other watched the little ones.  The older four (Isabel, Maura, Mags and Chloe) were able to go to the camp.  It really worked out well.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, Jenn had the kids last week and took B, KJ, and Brady to Dunkin Donuts.  In walked some men in suits.  B turned to Jenn and said, very seriously, "Jenn, those men are very handsome."  Now, I wasn't there, and who am I to judge anyway.  However I have a reliable source that tells me they were well over 60 and at least one of them was bald!  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To each his (or her) own!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-8651782278167946507?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/8651782278167946507/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=8651782278167946507' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/8651782278167946507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/8651782278167946507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2011/07/there-is-someone-for-everyone.html' title='There is someone for everyone.'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-3367776318221518549</id><published>2011-07-26T23:31:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-26T23:42:30.190-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Is a cast cool?</title><content type='html'>I think most 5 or 6 (or anyone under 16) year olds would think, yes it is.  At least at first.  Not our Mags.  This weekend Mags fell off the monkey bars (shocking, since she is usually SO good at them and all the tricks she does) and hurt her arm.  Sean and I do not usually get alarmed by our kids getting hurt and pretty much take it in stride.  This time it was different though.  See, Mags doesn't really like attention drawn to her.  If she truly does get hurt, she usually cries quietly and discreetly into my legs or behind my back.  This was not the case.  After deciding that she was indeed hurt enough to go to the ER, she really lost it.  She did NOT want to go to the doctor at all.  Even all our bribes, and the nice ladies at the ER's bribes could not make her relent.  After a while though (we were there 2 hours) she was in a great mood, laughing , giggling, joking and playing.  Sean and I thought surely we made the wrong call and the x-rays would come back fine.  Well, I think she was just thrilled to have our undivided attention because she did indeed have a fracture (a "buckle" they call it) and would need a cast.  She chose blue.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I thought all was good, but she would not get out of the car at the cupcake place, she did not want anything for the grocery store (I had to stop for Motrin) and then would not come out of the car when we got home.  The rest of the girls had made a big welcome home poster for her and a necklace (so darn sweet), but still she would not come out. She was too embarrassed.  Funny, because Maura has not stopped trying to figure out how she can get her own cast.  She LOVES attention.  After finally warming up at the the shorts, talks of a trip to Chuck E Cheese nearly put her over the edge.  Same thing with camp on monday.  Needless to say, many bribes have been made this week, and probably many more will be made in the next four weeks.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She got her permanent cast on today.  She chose green this time.  No one is allowed to sign it.  It is waterproof, thank goodness.  She seems a little more confident with this one, but we will see.  She still changes a few times a day (I was hoping this would be difficult) and she made a pasta necklace, so I would say she is doing okay.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I guess even the best little monkeys can get hurt.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-3367776318221518549?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/3367776318221518549/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=3367776318221518549' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/3367776318221518549'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/3367776318221518549'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2011/07/is-cast-cool.html' title='Is a cast cool?'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-8789663712261372446</id><published>2011-05-30T23:08:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-30T23:19:59.440-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Our graduate</title><content type='html'>We have another graduate in the house (can I get a whoop whoop!?).  Maggie Mae is officially a kindergartner (well, almost, she "still has a lot of summer vacation to go" as Maggie says).  Her graduation was just fantastic.  We were so proud of the way she stood up on stage and sang her little heart out.  She was very serious and would not wave or thumbs up or anything like that during her performance (unlike the little boy next to her who gave his mom a thumbs up no less than 8 times).  She was so excited to read her yearbook that when we went to the courtyard to visit B at her popsicle party, she went off by herself and sat and "read" the whole thing.  She has had someone read it to her cover to cover at least 2 times now (and all the descriptions of the 55 kids graduating).  She really blossomed this year, and it just warms my heart to see her so confident and so comfortable with her surroundings.  &lt;div&gt;...She has grown up so much this year.  She loves to practice her writing.  She loves to color.  She adores her friends and wants to have playdates all the time.  She is always ready to go somewhere and will do whatever you need to help get out of the house.  If you can't find something, don't worry, Mags can.  If you say something like "gosh, I wish the basement was clean; it really makes me upset."  There is a good chance she will be down there in the next 10 minutes cleaning it  She makes both her and B's bed in the morning.  She loves to "read."  She is loving soccer and is still a fish in the water.  She liked dance a lot but is not sure she wants to do it again, she may want to focus on soccer (she cracks me up!).  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today she was put in time out for something (I honestly can't remember) and was crying very loudly.  Chris peeked in to check on her.  She was still crying loudly, but as she was also hanging the clothes that bridget had thrown on the floor.  She then went on to organize her closet and clean up her room.  That's my girl!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-8789663712261372446?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/8789663712261372446/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=8789663712261372446' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/8789663712261372446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/8789663712261372446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2011/05/our-graduate.html' title='Our graduate'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-2647048931428606289</id><published>2011-05-30T23:01:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-30T23:08:09.792-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Memorial Day Weekend</title><content type='html'>What a wonderful weekend we had.  Friday night at the Smiths the kids played great.  Saturday we picked up Chris and Ryan and grilled ribs and made &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;s'mores&lt;/span&gt; (and burnt a hole in our yard!).  The girls absolutely love when Ryan comes to town.  They have been so excited all week and were counting down the days and hours until he arrived.  They all went with Sean to pick him up at the train station.  I just wished he lived closer.  Hopefully he can come spend some quality time with us this summer.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sunday we went to the pool (B is quite the fish.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;WCU&lt;/span&gt; swim lessons paid off).  It was too cold for Maura, she just sat (and whined) by the side of the pool.   The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Cioccas&lt;/span&gt; and my parents joined us for another BBQ... so much fun had by all.  Back to the pool today, and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;O'Reillys&lt;/span&gt; came for dinner.  We tried to put the girls down early for bed, but they fought the fought and caused havoc for about two hours after we put them down.  Overall it was a great weekend with lots of friends, family and fun!  Hoping for many more like that this summer (I can't believe Maura has school tomorrow!).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-2647048931428606289?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/2647048931428606289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=2647048931428606289' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/2647048931428606289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/2647048931428606289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2011/05/memorial-day-weekend.html' title='Memorial Day Weekend'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-8814858399708962254</id><published>2011-05-15T13:19:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-15T13:20:19.384-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Two wheeling</title><content type='html'>Mags is officially riding a two wheeler as of May 12, 2011.  And guess what is even better... I taught her!  Well, she was ready to go, but I did give her a push!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-8814858399708962254?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/8814858399708962254/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=8814858399708962254' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/8814858399708962254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/8814858399708962254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2011/05/two-wheeling.html' title='Two wheeling'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-5336441537553496899</id><published>2011-05-14T21:49:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-14T22:01:44.145-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Tiny dancers</title><content type='html'>Today was B and Mag's first dance recital.  I have to admit, they were adorable.  I am amazed at their ability to just get up on stage and dance in front of all those people.  They were not nervous at all.  Mags was just so excited to be doing the dance with all her friends.  In fact, on the way to the dress rehearsal (which was less than fun) Mags and her BF Eva were having the most adorable conversation about how time just flew by this year. &lt;div&gt;Me: Girls, can you believe it?  Your dance recital is finally here.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Eva:  I can' believe it is finally here.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mags:  It seems like it was just a little bit ago that we started dance class.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Eva:  And now our show is here.  Time goes by fast when you are having fun (or something like that).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It really was adorable, this conversation.  I love listening to the two of them talk to each other.  They have deep conversations about seatbelt laws, God, and ice cream flavors.  I love it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But back to the dance recital.  Mags was one of the first ones to go.  She really was not nervous just full of excitement.  When we got back stage, I started to get a little nervous because some girls were crying and nervous.  I wanted to stay away from them.  Mags did not even notice.  She went right over to her friends and started being silly.  B did notice.  She got a little clingy.  She is not one that likes to be left alone, or just left in general.  She wanted me to hold her for a bit, then color with her, but I did get out after a few minutes.  I have to admit, I was a little nervous I would not see her on stage, but she was there and she did great.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mags was very into her dance and was very graceful.  HEr and Eva (really the two I was focused on) knew the dance very well.  Mags also told a friend or two what to do a few times!  Her class was one of the better classes (in a totally unbiased opinion... but really even the family behind us with out a child in the class, was commenting on how well they did.).  They all knew what to do and where to go.  This was not the case of all the classes.  And Mags was great.  B's class was amazing for the little ones.  They also knew what they were doing and were able to sneak peaks off the side to see their teacher and follow along.  B got a little distracted at the end and kept walking when everyone else had stopped and started the next move.  The funny thing is, she did the same thing at the dress rehearsal and went to the same spot... maybe she planned it that way!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was a proud mama today.  Glad to see my cuties with the confidence to do what they did!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-5336441537553496899?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/5336441537553496899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=5336441537553496899' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/5336441537553496899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/5336441537553496899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2011/05/tiny-dancers.html' title='Tiny dancers'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-3222763366452574465</id><published>2011-04-12T18:45:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-12T18:53:13.642-04:00</updated><title type='text'>B's First "Real" Playdate</title><content type='html'>Don't get me wrong, B has played with plenty of people, plenty of times.  She is known for yelling "It is BORING here" when we pull into our driveway.  I have never seen her get dressed so fast as when I say get your coat and shoes on if you want to go to Jimmy's/Brady's (or Tory's/Jenn's for that matter).  But today was a big deal in our house.  Today she picked a friend from school to come over.  I like the mom, but I am not friends with her (I'd like to say we are now after the playdate, but who knows, we may have scared her away).  This is truly B's friend, and she could not have been more excited.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I told her just last night before bed.  It was the perfect bribe to get her in bed and to stay in bed.  She woke up this morning so excited.  She hurriedly got in the car without being prompted and knew that when we returned from dropping off M and M, Ella would be coming over.  Unfortunately, Ella's mom got a little caught up, so the 10 minute wait was more like a twenty minute wait, with about 100 "when will Ella be here"s built in.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She was excited to see her and welcomed her in.  After Ella warmed up, they played swimmingly (whatever that means).  They hid eggs, played monster, played house, played with playdough.  It was the makings of a great first playdate; no tears, no fights, just smiles.  I am happy for B!  She is growing up just great.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-3222763366452574465?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/3222763366452574465/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=3222763366452574465' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/3222763366452574465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/3222763366452574465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2011/04/bs-first-real-playdate.html' title='B&apos;s First &quot;Real&quot; Playdate'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-691923824861365615</id><published>2011-02-23T23:26:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-23T23:30:49.402-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My little helper</title><content type='html'>Mags is still my little helper.  She will sneak off and clean a room just to make me happy.  She races in when dinner is being made to set the table.  She loves to get everyone their coats, shoes, hats, etc.  The other morning Sean and I were attempting to sleep in (it was only 7:30am mind you).  I finally got up and got in the shower.  When I came out, Sean was still in bed.  I heard the microwave beeping.  Sean called down to Mags asking her what she was doing and why she was using the microwave.  She yelled back up, "Kerri wanted Hot Chocolate."  Oh, Okay then.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-691923824861365615?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/691923824861365615/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=691923824861365615' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/691923824861365615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/691923824861365615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2011/02/my-little-helper.html' title='My little helper'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-1167131326835881415</id><published>2011-02-23T23:22:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-23T23:26:55.240-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Potty on the Potty</title><content type='html'>That is heard around our house this day... either prefaced by "Kerri just went..."  "You don't have a diaper on so you must go..." or sometimes "Why didn't you go..."&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;About two weeks ago, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;KJ&lt;/span&gt; decided she wanted to go potty on the potty from now on.  She was really doing a great job.  She would just go into the bathroom by herself and go about her business.  The only reason I would know about it is when I went into the bathroom later and saw some yellow and even a little piece of toilet paper (or sometimes a whole roll) in the toilet.  I tried not to encourage it (I know, bad mom) because I don't like potty training, especially in the winter, so I am not sure it will stick, but it sure would be nice to be done with diapers.  Now what to do with those two cases I stocked up on from Costco when there was a coupon?!?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-1167131326835881415?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/1167131326835881415/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=1167131326835881415' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/1167131326835881415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/1167131326835881415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2011/02/potty-on-potty.html' title='Potty on the Potty'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-7031067090417962710</id><published>2011-02-10T15:54:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-10T16:11:16.317-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Learning the Hard Way</title><content type='html'>We found out on Monday that Jameson had cancer.  Last night (Wednesday) we had to put him down.  It was way too fast, but I guess better in the long run... less suffering for him, less confusion for the girls.  Yesterday was a very bad day for me and a very hard one.  I could tell Jameson was not right, I just did not know how bad he was.  I was crying and lying with him on the floor.  I was debating how much to tell the girls.  When I told Maura we should be nice to him and love him because he was old for a dog and pretty sick, the questions started.  Maura could turn a simple walk to the mailbox into twenty questions, so this was just way too much.  Is he dying?  Is he dying because he is sick or because he is old?  How old is he?  How old is Lexi?  How come Lexi is older than Jay but not dying?  How will he get to Heaven?  Then she asked me how I knew he was going to die.  How did I know dogs did not live as long as people?  I said I had many dogs growing up so I knew what happened.  She then replied, "So you learned the hard way mom, didn't you?"  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We told the girls we were taking Jay to the Vet last night.  We left them with my dad who put them to bed.  As soon as she woke up this morning, she called me into her room and asked me how Jameson was.  I told her he was in Heaven.  She didn't believe me at first, but once she accepted it, she said, "I wish I didn't have to learn the hard way, Mom."  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I wish you didn't either maura.  and mags.  and B.  and KJ.  I have a feeling I will feel like this a lot throughout my lifetime as a mom.  Wishing I could shelter the girls from all that is not pleasant in the world.  Wishing that the fact that I already learned it the hard way would count for something and give them a pass.  I wish it worked that way.  I wish that they would learn from my mistakes, be wiser because of my un-wise decisions, avoid making that same dumb decisions I made, simply because I tell them to.  I know that will not happen.  I know it is not realistic.  I know they will be better off in the long run having learned life's lessons in a safe way while growing up, but it still stinks.  Actually it pains my heart that I can't protect theirs.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We are so, so sad to not have our J dog greeting us at the door, barking at the deer, eating all the crumbs (except cheerios) that the girls drop.  I already forgot twice today that he was gone.  I really hope he is off chasing the angel-squirrels and playing catch with some kind and wise Saint.  We will probably get another dog someday, but he'll never be our J Dog!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-7031067090417962710?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/7031067090417962710/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=7031067090417962710' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/7031067090417962710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/7031067090417962710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2011/02/learning-hard-way.html' title='Learning the Hard Way'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-5339452767395763039</id><published>2011-01-31T13:57:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-31T14:00:21.531-05:00</updated><title type='text'>B's new term of endearment</title><content type='html'>B has a new thing she says. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I like you, I love you, and I believe you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think she may have been attending some covert therapy sessions to learn this phrase, but somehow she picked it up, and now the whole house has picked up on it.  The other day I threw her for a loop when I proclaimed, I like you, I love you, but I don't believe you (she was proclaiming that if I let her out of the cart to walk in Target she would not run away or stray).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-5339452767395763039?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/5339452767395763039/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=5339452767395763039' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/5339452767395763039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/5339452767395763039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2011/01/bs-new-term-of-endearment.html' title='B&apos;s new term of endearment'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-1611757565109526637</id><published>2011-01-24T23:23:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-24T23:24:54.909-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dressed for success</title><content type='html'>Mags:  Mom, do I have Gym class today?&lt;div&gt;Me:  No, Mags.  I think you have music?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mags:  Then why am I wearing my gym dress?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me:  Sorry, Mags, didn't realize that was your gym dress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-1611757565109526637?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/1611757565109526637/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=1611757565109526637' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/1611757565109526637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/1611757565109526637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2011/01/dressed-for-success.html' title='Dressed for success'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-2885641604251081868</id><published>2010-12-28T22:28:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-28T22:36:56.033-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hanging in there</title><content type='html'>Maura lost her first tooth on December 22, 2010.  Her two bottom teeth were loose for a while.  I thought it would happen any day for the last month.  She was hoping it would happen any day for the last six months.  It seemed her baby teeth really liked her mouth as they stuck around pretty long.  It was getting pretty disheartening to her that all her friends (most younger) were losing their teeth, then her &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;little&lt;/span&gt; cousin Caitlin, then to really rub it in Chloe (Mag's &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;bff&lt;/span&gt;) lost hers!  So I told her, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;in desperation&lt;/span&gt;, the longer they stayed in, the better the "prize" from the Tooth Fairy.  ell, that made her a little happier. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This last week they were very loose.  I mean sideways in her mouth loose.  On &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Wednesday&lt;/span&gt; she stayed at the Y to swim with her cousins and it was barely holding on.  Luckily they rushed &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;home&lt;/span&gt; where she yelled for me to run downstairs.  I did and she showed me sideways-barely-holding-on-bloody tooth.  She calmly said she was going to take it out.  And she did...  just pulled it right out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day her second tooth fell out.  She kept both on her shelf.  She wanted to put them under her pillow Christmas Eve (I &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;may&lt;/span&gt; have mentioned how cool that would be).  So the Tooth Fairy and Santa left her a little something.  Mags collected the Fairy Dust left behind by the fairy (&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Maura&lt;/span&gt; did not notice that, just the golden coins and moo-&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;lah&lt;/span&gt;).  I hope it was worth the wait.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-2885641604251081868?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/2885641604251081868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=2885641604251081868' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/2885641604251081868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/2885641604251081868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2010/12/hanging-in-there.html' title='Hanging in there'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-1972496088357560857</id><published>2010-12-28T22:23:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-28T22:28:08.161-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Bye Bye Lights</title><content type='html'>Kerri loves her some Christmas lights.  Unfortunately for her we do not live in H&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;avertown&lt;/span&gt; anymore where lights (especially colored ones) were plentiful and blow up &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Christmas&lt;/span&gt; decorations adorned every &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;other&lt;/span&gt; yard.  Round these parts it is beautiful, but in a white lights and red bows kind of way.  Still, she loves it.  As we drive she yells LIGHTS, LIGHTS, LIGHTS as we drive by, you guessed it, a house with lights, then yells, just as loudly BYE LIGHTS right after we pass them.  Repeat.  This is fun to hear, because I was reading past blogs this evening, and I was reminded at how quiet our little Ker-Bear used to be.  Things have indeed changed.  She likes to be heard now.  And I like to hear her.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-1972496088357560857?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/1972496088357560857/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=1972496088357560857' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/1972496088357560857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/1972496088357560857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2010/12/bye-bye-lights.html' title='Bye Bye Lights'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-1188716984285413034</id><published>2010-12-28T14:48:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-28T15:03:14.792-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Not a creature was stirring, especially not Mags.</title><content type='html'>On Christmas Eve (while daddy was balled up in our bed with the flu) Maggie and I checked the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Internet&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;NORAD&lt;/span&gt;) to see where Santa was.  Well, he was somewhere in Africa.  When I showed Mags how close he was to the "water" (aka Atlantic Ocean) and how we were just on the other side, she immediately decided she wanted to go to bed.  It was 5:30 pm.  We had not eaten dinner, had dessert- which I had just let them pick out since our annual Christmas Eve dinner with the Smiths was called off sue to illness- written our letter to Santa, put out cookies... you get it, we had not done any of the Christmas Eve prep that goes on when you have little ones.  None of that mattered.  Maggie was going to bed  She ran up the stairs, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;brushed&lt;/span&gt; her teeth, threw on her Christmas &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;jammies&lt;/span&gt;, which she previously refused to wear because she did not like the cut of them, but was too nervous to worry about that now, and was asleep by 5:45. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rest of the girls were asleep by 8:00, but there is really no evidence of Christmas Eve night in our house.  With Daddy being sick and Mags in bed.. well, the documentation just did not happen.  Maura wrote a great note to Santa, making sure he knew that she had not one, but two teeth under her pillow.  We fed Santa and the reindeer.  We said goodbye to the elf.  We read 'Twas the Night Before Christmas.  And then all was quiet... for ten minutes.  Then the hard work began.  The &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;tooth&lt;/span&gt; fairy was nice enough to write a nice letter to Maura and leave Fairy dust.  Santa also wrote a few letters, one for the teeth, one for the cookies.  The elf had to too.  Boy, they should have thought about writing them a little sooner, so as not to have to do it all in one night.  The presents appeared, by that time daddy was able to get out of bed and help Santa carry the larger items... like the three story doll house!   And then 9:23 came along and all was quiet again.  It's a Wonderful Life was watched by the fire light.  Wine was poured (for me, not &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;sicky&lt;/span&gt;) and it hit me... Life Really is Good... real good!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-1188716984285413034?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/1188716984285413034/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=1188716984285413034' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/1188716984285413034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/1188716984285413034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2010/12/not-creature-was-stirring-especially.html' title='Not a creature was stirring, especially not Mags.'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-5340759054883904574</id><published>2010-12-28T14:38:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-28T14:48:02.738-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Bye bye crib.</title><content type='html'>Dear Crib,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have served us well these 6 years and 4 months.  Never was there a time you got to rest.  Never did you get put on hold, never did you go in a spare room.  For a while you were joined by a second crib.  The two of you worked well together, keeping young children safe while sleeping, but it is sad to say, it is time for you to go. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sean lovingly dismantled you (just as lovingly and carefully as he assembled you, I am sure) yesterday.  You are resting comfortably in the attic, and our "baby" Kerri is resting comfortably in her full sized bed complete with feather bed and down comforter.  Not that you were not comfortable hard, plastic, crib mattress, but let me just tell you that Kerri dove into her new bed last night and slept twelve hours until her sisters came and woke her up.  She is now napping soundly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must say, crib, as well as you have served us, I do have one complaint, by the age of 2 years and 1 month (some sooner, none later), all of my children were easily scaling your walls.  I am not sure if the blame lies in you or in the DNA make up of my children (obviously fault of Sean and I) but it does seem quite suspicious that all four easily climbed right out of you.  I have heard rumor and legend of other children staying in their cribs until 3, sometimes 4 years of age!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have put you away faithful &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ol&lt;/span&gt;' crib.  Not sure if you will be taken out again or passed on to someone else, but please know you were loved and appreciated. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Autumn (the mom)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-5340759054883904574?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/5340759054883904574/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=5340759054883904574' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/5340759054883904574'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/5340759054883904574'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2010/12/bye-bye-crib.html' title='Bye bye crib.'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-1848443075186210749</id><published>2010-12-21T17:13:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-21T17:56:33.327-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Kerri is Two</title><content type='html'>Well, our little &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;KJ&lt;/span&gt; has turned two years old.  It seems like she just all of a sudden became a big girl.  I know it was happening all along, but &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;bam&lt;/span&gt;, I turned &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;around&lt;/span&gt;, and there she was, doing all the things her sisters do and talking up a storm. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She had a small little "party" with B, Jimmy and Brady at our house while the older kids went to make gingerbread houses.  Later that night we had my parents and Sue over for another party.  She loved it.  At first she did not quite understand the idea of the gifts, but she soon figured out that these were her HER new baby dolls!  She got about four new dolls, a leapfrog letter writer, a car, a car ramp/garage, a crib for her dolls and a pillow pet.  She loved it all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kerri is very independent.  If she wants a drink, she very well might get it herself.  She can get out the cups, find a lid, go to the sink, pull over the step stool, and poor herself a glass of water.  She may leave the water on, but let's not get picky!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She also knows exactly what she wants and when she wants it.  If she can not clearly tell you what she wants, or you are not moving fast enough, she will grab your hand/arm/leg/shirt and pull you to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She has a hearty laugh.  It is contagious.  She really can't help but smile when you hear her laughing.  She is very &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;ticklish&lt;/span&gt; so it is easy to get her to laugh. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She loves her sisters and loves to help them.  She calls Maura, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;raura&lt;/span&gt;.  She calls Maggie, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;uggie&lt;/span&gt;.  She calls &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Bridgey&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;didgey&lt;/span&gt;.  It is very cute to hear her calling their names.  She loves bringing stuff to them too.  She is a great delivery girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She loves to snuggle.  She will lie on your chest as long as you will let her.  She used to love going to bed and would &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;practically&lt;/span&gt; dive in.  This was until recently.  She now gets out of her crib, turns on her light and changes her clothes all by herself.  I said she was &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;independent&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She works hard for her sisters' approval, but won't think twice about whacking one of them in the head if they do something not nice, especially to another sister. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She loves Jay and all things dogs.  Her favorite book is Brown Bear, Brown Bear.  Maggie and Maura "read" it to her over and over again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;KJ you make me laugh.  You are always ready to go, go, go.  I never have to ask you twice to get your coat or shoes on.  You are the first one at the door ready to go.  You do get shy sometimes, and when you do, you get a littel scowl on your face... you look mad. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love watching you grow and learn.  I look forward to seeing what new mischief you will get into tomorrow, because I am sure there will be some.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-1848443075186210749?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/1848443075186210749/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=1848443075186210749' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/1848443075186210749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/1848443075186210749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2010/12/kerri-is-two.html' title='Kerri is Two'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-4646228729060127897</id><published>2010-12-21T16:58:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-21T17:02:45.666-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas Shows</title><content type='html'>Mags performed in her concert this year.  She did great.  She mouthed all the words and did all the motions.  This is a huge improvement from a year ago.  Last year she would not even walk (or let us push/carry/pull her) through &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;the&lt;/span&gt; doorway.  She made us a beautiful wreath of &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;handprints&lt;/span&gt;.  She was very proud to show off all the stuff in her room.  She also loved being with her &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Friends&lt;/span&gt;.  I am loving this year for her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B also had her show.  She proudly walked in her room.  She did not bother much to mouth the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;words&lt;/span&gt;, but she did do most of the motions.  She too made a beautiful wreath and an ornament for &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;the&lt;/span&gt; tree.  Very special.  We were lucky that Sue could come to Maggie's show and &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Sue&lt;/span&gt; and Tim both came to B's show (my parents were sick).  We were also lucky Kerri could make it, as she had a belly bug (that cricket) the day before.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-4646228729060127897?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/4646228729060127897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=4646228729060127897' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/4646228729060127897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/4646228729060127897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2010/12/christmas-shows.html' title='Christmas Shows'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-5020918600073098477</id><published>2010-12-21T16:54:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-21T16:57:51.565-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Funny Bridgey!</title><content type='html'>Our B has &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;grown&lt;/span&gt; into quite the comedian.  She loves to dance and sing silly songs... if you'll laugh.  She loves a good knock, knock joke.  Sometimes she is the funniest when she is not trying to be funny at all.  Here is a conversation in the car the other day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom:  Be nice the Kerri; she is sick.&lt;br /&gt;B:  Why is she sick, Mom?&lt;br /&gt;Mom:  She caught a little bug in her tummy.&lt;br /&gt;B:  Oh, did she swallow one of those crickets from the basement?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-5020918600073098477?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/5020918600073098477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=5020918600073098477' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/5020918600073098477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/5020918600073098477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2010/12/funny-bridgey.html' title='Funny Bridgey!'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-5358186692557592910</id><published>2010-12-10T18:08:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-21T16:54:43.176-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Life is Sweet</title><content type='html'>We just got back from Hershey Park. It was a "birthday gift" for Kerri, but the poor thing got sick and could not go. I felt badly at first, but after going, she was much better off at my parents' warm house, rather than in 30 degree weather shoved... I mean bundled oh so tenderly, in a stroller. We went withe the Smith family, so everyone was very excited. I think B might have been the most excited to have a "sleepover" with Brady, as she has been asking for one for weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a fun time, a meltdown or two, but mostly lots of fun, especially considering it was 32degrees outside!  When the girls saw Santa they all froze and the only thing they could say they wanted was: Maura: toys; Maggie: toys; Bridget:toys... not very helpful for Mommy elf!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think swimming in the hotel pool and the breakfast buffets were the biggest hits.  Overall, a sweet time was had in &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;the&lt;/span&gt; sweetest place on earth!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-5358186692557592910?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/5358186692557592910/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=5358186692557592910' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/5358186692557592910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/5358186692557592910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2010/12/life-is-sweet.html' title='Life is Sweet'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-7745357138664501864</id><published>2010-10-11T21:17:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-11T21:28:53.760-04:00</updated><title type='text'>How did that happen?</title><content type='html'>How did all my girls grow up so much, so fast? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the last couple of months it seems that each of the girls has really made some great strides. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kerri is just adding a word or two to her vocabulary everyday.  She is running around and doing exactly what her sisters are doing... especially climbing.  She loves to play in the play kitchen, all by herself.  She especially loves going through the drawers in the bathroom and taking everything out.  She wishes she could ride in the booster seat and many times screams and fights with me when I try to put her in her &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;car seat&lt;/span&gt;.  She loves to put on and take off her shoes, or &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;any one's&lt;/span&gt; shoes that happen to be around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B is singing her little heart out.  And she is singing songs like the Barbie themes that Maura sings.  It is so cute to see her running around the back yard belting out her tunes.  She is taking ballet now, and is just so adorable!  She loves to sing the ABC's. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mags has just blossomed into a great student.  She loves to practice her handwriting.  She really gets better each week.  She also loves doing math now.  She is really good at adding and loves to practice it often.  She loves to go to school still... and especially loves to go to ballet.  One cute Maggie-ism is that she now says she wants to build a square-&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;cwow&lt;/span&gt;.  I love her little words!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maura is just really independent.  She runs off to school every day happy as can be.  She loves to have &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;playdates&lt;/span&gt; with her new good friend Sophia.  If she could she would every day.  Her handwriting has gotten much better too.  She does have handwriting homework every night, so that is helping.  I do think she is a little bored with some of the stuff she is doing in school, but she has not really complained at all. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love these girls!  I just wish they would stop growing up so darn fast!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-7745357138664501864?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/7745357138664501864/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=7745357138664501864' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/7745357138664501864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/7745357138664501864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2010/10/how-did-that-happen.html' title='How did that happen?'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-4749808654556236748</id><published>2010-09-27T19:22:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-27T19:48:54.334-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday Maura!</title><content type='html'>Dear Maura,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are six years old.  This is a big year for you.  You started kindergarten and are playing on your first sports' team (the Snowflakes-soccer).  You have met many new people at your school, but always insist that your best friends are still your first friends, Isabel and Maria. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am really proud of the little girl you are becoming.   You are confident.   You are basically kind.  You are funny.  And you are smart.  Oh, and I guess you are pretty cute too, although if I call you cute, you will yell at me, because you-do-not-like-the-word-cute! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are also creative.  Sometimes, maybe a little too creative.  You are great at weaving a tale, even when you really should not be.  We always take what you say a little less than literally. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can really make me laugh.  And sometimes, you can even drive me crazy.  You get easily distracted and could spend hours, doing "nothing" at all.  Of course to you, it really is something.&lt;br /&gt;You love to be the center of attention when it is not planned.  You can keep a room laughing for an hour.  However, when I asked you if you wanted to take a theater class at the Y you said no, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;because&lt;/span&gt; you get stage fright.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You love to dance around the house and sing.  You can really hold a tune.  I am always impressed by that ability... one I &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;wish&lt;/span&gt; I had. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i really love watching you grow up.  I love watching you run around on the soccer field... and score goals and get to to do the special high five... your favorite part!  I love that you love you daddy and spend special nights with him at soccer where he coaches you.  I love that you answer people confidently and look them right in the eye.  I love that you are not afraid to take a class or go to a party where you don't know anyone.. because, as you say, you'll meet them.  I just love the little, well bigger, girl you are becoming and I look forward to watching you grow and change (but not too much!)&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;Mommy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-4749808654556236748?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/4749808654556236748/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=4749808654556236748' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/4749808654556236748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/4749808654556236748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2010/09/happy-birthday-maura.html' title='Happy Birthday Maura!'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-1955503613900036392</id><published>2010-09-27T18:36:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-27T19:16:07.667-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A whole new year</title><content type='html'>Yes, in our house, we do new years in September.  I mean the change of date is cool in January, but that really is the only thing that changes.  August to September, that is a whole new ball game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;August was crazy, in a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;lazy&lt;/span&gt; sort of way.  We were away for three weeks!!  Yes, three weeks of vacation... how lucky is that.  We did one week in &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Hilton Head&lt;/span&gt; with the Shorts and two weeks in Avalon with the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;O'Reillys&lt;/span&gt;.  All three weeks were very fun and very busy.  I was planning to do &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;a lot&lt;/span&gt; of running to "train" for my half marathon in September, but I think I ran all of 3 times on vacation.  It may be vacation, b&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ut&lt;/span&gt; apparently you still have to watch your kids. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We came back three days before Kindergarten started.  I am not sure why, but I WAS A WRECK.  not, I cried a little, or &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;a lot&lt;/span&gt;.  I mean a total wreck.  I had serious stomach issues from Sunday until Thursday.  I was not able to sleep more than three hours a night, and the sleep I did get, I dreamed about forgetting to pick a kid up from school or screwing up the carpool line.  Luckily, through the help of &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;a lot&lt;/span&gt; of friends and family, Sean and I were both able to go to everything important leading up to school starting.  And Sean was able to walk Maura to school with me on her first day.  She could not have been more excited.  She literally was pulling us to the car.  We dropped her off at the entrance and she walked right in, no turning back,  until the nice lady at the door reminded her to wave goodbye to Mom and Dad.  That was a mistake because I was already sobbing at that point.  But I put on a smile and waved through the tears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I then had to take Mags to her Life Stories at preschool... which is basically a meet the teacher.  I am not exaggerating when I &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;say&lt;/span&gt;, I sobbed to the teacher.  So much so that I was not able to even apologize for sobbing.  Luckily the teacher knows me.    I then picked Maura up from school, ran home and dropped her off (my mom was still there from the morning) took B to her Life Stories (only a few tear ups this time).  Came home, picked up Mags, took her to ballet.  Came home, fed the girls a quick dinner and got Maura ready for soccer practice.  So, after typing this, I am pretty sure the stomach &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;un&lt;/span&gt;-easiness was not only about M's first day of kindergarten, but my anxiety about having to be in two places at once. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pick up for Maura is at 11:40 and pickup for mags and B is at 11:45.   And they are not less than 3 minutes apart.  However, once again as a result of wonderful &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;friends&lt;/span&gt; and the wonderful world of carpooling... it is all working out.  I am sleeping again.  And my stomach is back to normal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the girls are loving everything  this year.  B and Mags are taking ballet... absolutely adorable.  Maura is tearing up the soccer field- 4 goals to date, and a game ball to boot.  They love going to school every morning.  As a matter of fact we are often too early for school because they are so excited to get out of the door.  I am so happy for Mags, after a not great, (not bad, but not great) year last year, she really seems to be in her element this year. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is still crazy.  They still whine and complain.  They even fight and yell at each other (and me).  But overall, everyone seems happy.  I ran my half marathon to my shock, and now I am back to working out, so that even makes me happy.  Sean is doing great.  He is super busy at work.  A good thing in this economy, and taking classes at &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Villanova&lt;/span&gt; on Monday nights.  He really has stepped up his husband of the year game, and been very helpful and supportive lately.  Not that he always wasn't, but the word VERY is stressed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B and I are heading to Arkansas this weekend.  I am really excited to see everyone out there.  It is always so fun to get together with family.  I can't wait.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-1955503613900036392?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/1955503613900036392/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=1955503613900036392' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/1955503613900036392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/1955503613900036392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2010/09/whole-new-year.html' title='A whole new year'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-2481974554669698895</id><published>2010-08-03T19:43:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-03T20:17:24.379-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Ugh, August already!?!?!</title><content type='html'>I can't believe that it is August.  August 3rd to be exact.  Where has my summer gone?  It has been a hot one, not just a little hot, but HOT.  Like 10 days in a row over 90 with 100% humidity and many of those days hitting 100!  I am feeling guilty that we have not been outside enough, but it has been unbearable.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-2481974554669698895?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/2481974554669698895/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=2481974554669698895' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/2481974554669698895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/2481974554669698895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2010/08/ugh-august-already.html' title='Ugh, August already!?!?!'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-6146760653655454597</id><published>2010-07-13T23:41:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-13T23:44:45.450-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Two Wheeling</title><content type='html'>Maura is riding a two wheeler.  On Sunday after dinner Sean and the girls disappeared &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;while&lt;/span&gt; I chatted with Sue.  Around 20 minutes later, they come on the deck and announce that we have a two wheeling kid in the house.  &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Yay&lt;/span&gt;!  I knew she would pick it up fast (once we showed her... lazy parents!).  She was very proud.  I especially loved when she was calling to Kerri to watch her!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now today she had a friend over and went outside to jump on the bike.  We had a complaint about the bike not working anymore... I guess we might need a little more practice.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-6146760653655454597?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/6146760653655454597/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=6146760653655454597' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/6146760653655454597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/6146760653655454597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2010/07/two-wheeling.html' title='Two Wheeling'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-3123192636327548914</id><published>2010-07-13T23:27:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-13T23:40:58.943-04:00</updated><title type='text'>B is turning 3</title><content type='html'>It happens every year, well really, four times a year.  One of my babies gets a year older.  Darn it!  I can't stand it.  As much as I want the "easier" times to come (like getting themselves dressed, taking a bath, no diapers, doing chores -could I be so lucky??), I don't want them to get to that next, not so easy stage.  I love their little faces, and voices, and feet, and bums... boy do I love those bums!    It just chokes me up even thinking about her turning three. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She, however, could not be more thrilled.  She knows (for the first time) it is HER BIRTHDAY.  She wants Dora there, a donut cake, and to get her ears pierced.  She is getting a donut cake and her ears pierced, but no Dora... sorry.  She asked to have her three best friends at her party... Jimmy, Daddy and Brady. Once again she will get two out of three... Daddy has to work. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She is really getting older &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;and&lt;/span&gt; changing every day.   Heck, she even went to, and stayed at, camp this week.   Just two weeks ago she dropped out (although I may have &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;dropped&lt;/span&gt; out of that last one too, sorry girls).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here is a list of some of my favorite things about my TWO year old B:&lt;br /&gt;She is cuddly, so cuddly and affectionate.&lt;br /&gt;She loves her pacifier and gets so excited when she sees it, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;and&lt;/span&gt; so calm once it is in her mouth.&lt;br /&gt;She plays, guess which hand, all the time.&lt;br /&gt;She still wants to sit in the high chair at breakfast.&lt;br /&gt;She loves chocolate milk.&lt;br /&gt;She is spunky, really spunky.&lt;br /&gt;She does not ever stop on the 1 or the 2 (when counting for discipline) you always need to be about to say 3 for her to stop.&lt;br /&gt;She thinks she can swim; she can't; it is scary.&lt;br /&gt;She picks out her own outfits.&lt;br /&gt;She wears panties to bed already!&lt;br /&gt;She loves her &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;BFF's&lt;/span&gt; (Daddy, Jimmy, and Brady)&lt;br /&gt;She loves to go anywhere, anytime.&lt;br /&gt;Whenever a car pulls in the driveway she checks for a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;car seat&lt;/span&gt;... just in case they want to take her with them... because she probably would go.&lt;br /&gt;She is great with Kerri when &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;no one&lt;/span&gt; else is around.&lt;br /&gt;She pinches Kerri when Kerri is not cooperating with her!&lt;br /&gt;She does not like to sleep without Mags in the room.&lt;br /&gt;She wants to be just like Maura. &lt;br /&gt;She knows her &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ABCs&lt;/span&gt; and 123s.&lt;br /&gt;When she gets mad she speaks very slowly and very loudly, and clenches her fists. &lt;br /&gt;She is one of a kind.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-3123192636327548914?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/3123192636327548914/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=3123192636327548914' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/3123192636327548914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/3123192636327548914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2010/07/b-is-turning-3.html' title='B is turning 3'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-7061266408763811912</id><published>2010-07-06T09:33:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-06T09:42:37.393-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Meatballs</title><content type='html'>Mags is usually the one with all the cute sayings, but B has a couple too... mostly to do with "private" &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;body&lt;/span&gt; parts, but cute none the less.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She calls nipples, meatballs.  Today she said, Mommy, you have big meatballs.  My meatballs are small.  See?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She calls the Diving pool, the diamond pool... kind of reminds me of the black diamond ski slopes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She calls a pen*s. Peanuts.  As in Daddy has a peanuts; Jimmy has a peanuts; I want a peanuts.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-7061266408763811912?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/7061266408763811912/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=7061266408763811912' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/7061266408763811912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/7061266408763811912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2010/07/meatballs.html' title='Meatballs'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-6827375527042960984</id><published>2010-07-05T22:28:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-05T22:36:29.355-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Swim team</title><content type='html'>Maura and Maggie have begun swimming for the Minis for Aronimink.  I really wanted Maggie to do it, because she is a good swimmer ( for a four year old) and she is always just following in Maura's footsteps, I wanted her to do something for herself.  But, of course, she said she would not do it unless Maura did it.   I did not want to pressure them to do it, but I was really hoping they would.  Maura eventually came around and decided to do it.  I was really happy that mags would be doing it.  When we got to tryouts, Maura jumped right in and was ready to go.  mags started crying and almost didn't do it.  I was kicking myself.  the whole reason I wanted them to do it was for Mags and now Maura would be on the team and not Maggie!  Darn!  Well, Mags came around and swam her lap.  She really is great.  She can swim a whole lap freestyle with about a 2-3 second "freeze" in between four arm strokes.  She can then turn around and come back and do it again.  It is impressive.  And she really like it.  She just loves being in the water.  Maura on the other hand, does not like getting her face wet (either do I so I know where she gets it).  She is doing great at backstroke though! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The swim meets are more of a cocktail party than a swim meet, but I'll take it.  The last one even had a DJ and dance floor (complete with lights) afterward!  Fun!  We were there until 10:00 when I had to drag the girls (and Sean) out kicking!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-6827375527042960984?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/6827375527042960984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=6827375527042960984' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/6827375527042960984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/6827375527042960984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2010/07/swim-team.html' title='Swim team'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-6538703349926662838</id><published>2010-07-05T22:13:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-05T22:24:15.458-04:00</updated><title type='text'>An adventure, a hike and an experiment</title><content type='html'>Inspired by our cousin Chrissy, we are going to attempt to do one of each (hike, adventure and experiment) every week this summer.  So far, so good.  This week we went to the Willows and hiked through a stream, up a "mountain" (large hill) and around a pond.   We were met by some geese and swans at the pond.  The swans came chasing after us.  Maura and Bridget were both pond side when the swans came charging after them.  They both turned to run-right into a bench.  Maura was quick enough to climb over the bench and run out of there.  B, not so much.  She was stuck, and screaming.  I wanted to help, I really did, but I had K in my hands and, well, let's be honest, I was afraid!!  I yelled for B to run, but she couldn't get around the bench.  I finally ran up to her, she made her way around, I grabbed her arm and drug her away.  By this time, Mags is screaming.  It really was quite a sight.  I can see the headlines... Young girl gets pecked to death by swan while mom stands by watching!!  I think that counts as an adventure, but just to be sure, we set up the tent and camped out in the back yard that night.  Maura decided she would rather sleep in her bed (smart girl) so B, mags and I slept out. I was impresses, especially with Mags.  Around 11:00pm, I thought about carrying them up to their room and heading to mine, but I figured if they could do it, so could I.  Oh, our "experiment: was seeing what floated and what sank.  Silly &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;banz&lt;/span&gt; sink!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They had so much fun, we went back yesterday with daddy, and today we bought nets to catch tadpoles next time we go.  Now let's see if I can stick to it.  NB:  I am also in a 40 day no yelling bet with myself.  I may be asking too much of myself, it is summer after all!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-6538703349926662838?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/6538703349926662838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=6538703349926662838' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/6538703349926662838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/6538703349926662838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2010/07/adventure-hike-and-experiment.html' title='An adventure, a hike and an experiment'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-6139278956562309019</id><published>2010-06-12T23:05:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-12T23:14:09.192-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer is in full swing</title><content type='html'>Well, here we are in the full swing of summer.  How did that happen?  Maura graduated from &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Pre&lt;/span&gt;-K (again), and B finished her first year of school.  She is potty trained and ready for summer camps!  We have started swim lessons (boot camp) at &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;WCU&lt;/span&gt;.  The girls are loving it.  Mags really is a star!   Maura was not loving putting her head in the water, but with some new goggles and a little more self as&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;surred&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ness&lt;/span&gt; she is ready to go.  The girls have decided (as of today) to do swim team (that could change at any given moment!).  We will see how that goes.   Kerri is talking more and more.  She really just makes me smile all-the-time.  I can't take it.  Even when she is bad, I think she is adorable.  She just had her 18month check up.  25% for weight (really?  she is a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;chunker&lt;/span&gt;) 50% for height and... wait for it... 90% for head.  Too funny.  She always has been a little top heavy... in the most adorable way, of course. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am having a great summer so far.  Gwen is "helping" out this summer a few hours two days a week.  Amazing what a difference that makes.  The girls have a few Bible camps planned ( I am too cheap to send them to real camp!).  They are looking forward to it.  The twins (Emily and Katie) are coming in two weeks... Maura is on cloud nine about that!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So life is good.  It is busy, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;and&lt;/span&gt; it is fantastic.  I am looking forward to some fun summer memories!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-6139278956562309019?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/6139278956562309019/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=6139278956562309019' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/6139278956562309019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/6139278956562309019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2010/06/summer-is-in-full-swing.html' title='Summer is in full swing'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-7822844216683207782</id><published>2010-05-06T22:41:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-12T23:20:21.190-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Mother's Day Shows and why I am so proud.</title><content type='html'>I had three mother's day teas today. One right after another, actually two overlapped a bit... ugh! Well I had three very different experiences, but all filled with pride. This is just another example of how different my girls are. It is crazy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mags was up first. I was &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;nervous&lt;/span&gt;, very nervous. The holiday show did not go so well. If you consider "so well" not even going into the room! I wanted to make sure we were there early enough because when she is late to anything, forget about it. Well, she did great. She walked right up on stage, and, are you ready, sang! She even did all the hand motions! I could have fallen over. I taped every last minute of it. I loved every second. I wanted to run up and squeeze her and grab her and tell her how proud I was of her.... right at that very second. Now, she did not wave to me, or smile, or really even look at me, but hey, she was on stage. She was doing it. I just am so darn proud of her and the growth she has made this year. On a side note, she was star of the week this week, and her teacher said she did GREAT. She loved making her poster... she decorated both sides. I wrote detailed descriptions next to each picture because I assumed she would not talk about it, and her teachers would have to tell the class about it. Well, I was wrong, again. She talked, and talked loudly and clearly about every last picture and drawing on her poster. Her teacher's aide (who is amazing) said she was so surprised and so proud of her too. mags has grown so much this year, in so many ways. She doesn't even drink milk anymore really! I know I am rambling about Mags, but &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;geez&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, I am happy for her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next came Maura's tea. Well, Maura is like her dad, in that things come easily to her. So I was not nervous for her. I was surprised though that she was quiet and not really as animated as she was during the many hours of rehearsal at home, or as compared to her classmates. She would smile at me and give me a look or two, but no waving. She is all business. I think she is worried she will get in trouble. She told me later they were not allowed to move except when they had to stomp their feet for one song. She really does everything right. She knows all the words, all the motions. She does great, just like she does &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;everything&lt;/span&gt;!! After the show she gave me her jump on me and wrap her arms and legs around me and make me let go, aka weird, greeting. She then does her pointing and poking but no talking routine. Interesting. But she is proud of herself and of what she does in the classroom, but quiet. I hope life keeps being so easy for Maura. It sure would be nice. Maura came up with me to B's party.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B was waiting for me when I walked in. She, unlike her sisters, drops everything and yells Mommy! and runs over to me. She talks &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;al &lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;ot&lt;/span&gt; and tells me everything that happened in the last hour. She now can enjoy her snack. She wants to hug me, hold me, pat my head, kiss me. She wants me to carry her down the steps. She is reluctant to get up on stage, but when she does, darn is she a cutie. She sings the words and does the motions, really it was just her and another girls doing anything. She gets so easily distracted. A little boy was kind of running around and crying, she was trying so hard to concentrate on the teacher, but it was SO hard for her. She kept getting distracted. She did all her songs great. She smiled and waved to her mommy, and as soon as it was over, she ran right to me and wanted to hug and cuddle. That is all right before she went running around the room &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;and&lt;/span&gt; the halls like a mad woman, but boy was it great. I can't believe she is old enough to be performing on stage!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a wonderful morning to me a mommy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-7822844216683207782?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/7822844216683207782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=7822844216683207782' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/7822844216683207782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/7822844216683207782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2010/05/mothers-day-shows-and-why-i-am-so-proud.html' title='Mother&apos;s Day Shows and why I am so proud.'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-6801672093311307514</id><published>2010-05-06T22:35:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-06T22:41:02.831-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Yeah!!</title><content type='html'>B is potty trained.  Dry for a week now.  Last Thursday I just decided to take off the diapers, and I did.  We went for two days with no panties, no diapers, and many times, no nothing... nude.  Panties went back on Sunday (shameless brag:  when she was picking me up from my 10 mile race!).  She has been in panties since.  She has gone to school twice, to the gym, to restaurants, well, everywhere.  Yeah.  I hate to say it was easy, but it was.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-6801672093311307514?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/6801672093311307514/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=6801672093311307514' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/6801672093311307514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/6801672093311307514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2010/05/yeah.html' title='Yeah!!'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-5700249142402093271</id><published>2010-04-24T18:17:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-24T18:21:34.393-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Wa wa</title><content type='html'>Kerri is starting to say some words.  She likes to make noise... scream even, but not alot of words come out of her cute little mouth.  Well her newest, and favorite, is Wawa.  She wants water.. all the time.  Preferably out of a glass or water bottle.  It can be pretty messy, but I can't help but indulge.  Gotta encourage the talking (and it sure is better than her calling everyone and everything mama!).  (BTW, right now Bridget is licking water off the counter.  Must be her favorite too.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-5700249142402093271?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/5700249142402093271/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=5700249142402093271' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/5700249142402093271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/5700249142402093271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2010/04/wa-wa.html' title='Wa wa'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-8561851760716412432</id><published>2010-04-15T20:55:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-15T20:56:23.709-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Dry nights</title><content type='html'>Maggie has been pull up free for three nights.  Keep your fingers crossed!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-8561851760716412432?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/8561851760716412432/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=8561851760716412432' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/8561851760716412432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/8561851760716412432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2010/04/dry-nights.html' title='Dry nights'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-3861412615776950701</id><published>2010-04-15T20:40:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-15T20:55:23.776-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Quest for the Golden Egg.</title><content type='html'>Two years ago we went to the Homestead with our family and my parents.  We loved it.  We went again this year.  We loved it again!  When we went two years ago, Maura found the Golden Egg at the egg hunt at the Owners Club.  She was determined to find it again this year.  As we checked in, she told the receptionist, "I am going to get the golden egg."  I was nervous.  What if she did not find it?  I tried to prepare her for it.. you know, all the eggs have treats in them... even if you don't get the golden egg, it can still be fun... there is a silver egg?? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, no need to worry, she got it.  And so did Mags and B.  They were thrilled.  They got the big &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Easter&lt;/span&gt; basket with toys, candy, books, water bottles... it was the basket of all baskets.  While we were "searching" for eggs, standing among all these colored eggs, I said to Mags, why aren't you picking up any eggs?  She replied that she was searching for the golden egg.  No time to waste picking up all the other ones!!  Ryan was not as lucky.  His age group was very aggressive and was only able to get 2 eggs!!  Wow.  That is some competitive egg hunting!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But more importantly, we had a great weekend with family.  It was relaxing and fun, exciting and old fashion fun.  I loved it.  It took a while for me to relax and realize we were on vacation, but once I did, it was great!  The kids went swimming every day and loved it.  I think that was Ryan's favorite part of the weekend.  We played on the playground; we went to the movies, a magic show, church, afternoon tea.  We hiked, we hid eggs, went to two hunts, got balloon animals, played hide and seek, "swam" in the hot tub.  It was a great &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Easter&lt;/span&gt; weekend.  I hope we get to do it again next year, even worth the 7 hour drive!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-3861412615776950701?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/3861412615776950701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=3861412615776950701' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/3861412615776950701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/3861412615776950701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2010/04/quest-for-golden-egg.html' title='The Quest for the Golden Egg.'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-4978492689762941425</id><published>2010-03-24T22:21:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-24T22:44:45.142-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Things I want to remember.</title><content type='html'>About Maura...&lt;br /&gt;She really is a smart five year old.  She is proud of her new beginning skills in reading.&lt;br /&gt;She always asks to "do math... and not easy ones."  I ask her addition and subtraction and she does it in her head.  (like 8+5 and 12-7)&lt;br /&gt;She loves to help out with Kerri.  She even gets her out of her car seat for me.&lt;br /&gt;She could care less about what she wears.  Dirty/clean, doesn't matter to her. &lt;br /&gt;She loves to watch the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Jetsons&lt;/span&gt; and play computer games.&lt;br /&gt;She wants to be a teacher, a farmer, a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;paleontologist&lt;/span&gt; and a cheerleader when she grows up.&lt;br /&gt;She is a daredevil on her bike.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About Maggie...&lt;br /&gt;She starts most words with "be", like I be-member (remember) or be-&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;sider&lt;/span&gt; (consider) this&lt;br /&gt;She loves, loves, loves her momma. &lt;br /&gt;She loves her &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;blankie&lt;/span&gt; and really needs it to sleep. &lt;br /&gt;She is a great dresser.  She likes to change her clothes multiple times throughout the day. &lt;br /&gt;She and B play very nicely together.&lt;br /&gt;She is great at drawing flowers and her family. &lt;br /&gt;She is a great swimmer.  She literally floats and/or treads water for hours at a time.&lt;br /&gt;She can write her name and is a great &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;color-er&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About Bridget...&lt;br /&gt;She loves her boyfriends Jimmy (&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;jim&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;jims&lt;/span&gt;) and Brady.  (and Tory too)&lt;br /&gt;When you ask her who is in her class, she says her two teachers and the two boys in her class. &lt;br /&gt;She loves to watch Dora, and, for a two year old, is way too obsessed with &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;tv&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;She would get in the car with anyone... she is always ready to go somewhere.&lt;br /&gt;When we pull into the neighborhood, she says, "No, I don't want to go home."&lt;br /&gt;She loves to push her babies in her stroller, even to the YMCA.&lt;br /&gt;She LOVES he pacifier (&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Shashi&lt;/span&gt;).  &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ALOT&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She loves to cuddle.  If you are sitting with her, she will rub your arm (or face, or whatever she is near) gently.&lt;br /&gt;She is a mostly a daredevil, but is the most cautious of all my girls.&lt;br /&gt;Her teacher tells stories of h&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;er&lt;/span&gt; falling off the chairs, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;alot&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;She eats chalk, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;playdoh&lt;/span&gt;, glue, etc.!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About Kerri Jean...&lt;br /&gt;She is mostly happy and content.&lt;br /&gt;when she wakes up in her crib, she just plays in her crib until you come get her.&lt;br /&gt;At nap time she starts crying as you are walking up the steps to get to her room.&lt;br /&gt;She is a great eater.  She eats just about anything, but if she doesn't want it, she lets you know.  She throws it... far.&lt;br /&gt;She has a great belly laugh and a great belly.  We call her &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Buddha&lt;/span&gt; Belly.&lt;br /&gt;She loves swimming and taking a bath, until one of her sisters splashes her.&lt;br /&gt;She thinks her dad is pretty fantastic.&lt;br /&gt;She calls everything and everyone Mama.&lt;br /&gt;She still loves her bottle. &lt;br /&gt;She never took a pacifier.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-4978492689762941425?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/4978492689762941425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=4978492689762941425' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/4978492689762941425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/4978492689762941425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2010/03/things-i-want-to-remember.html' title='Things I want to remember.'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-8221357141999394259</id><published>2010-03-01T22:36:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-01T22:41:11.998-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Up and Running</title><content type='html'>Well, walking.  Kerri Jean is officially walking.  It takes &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;a lot&lt;/span&gt; round these part to make it official, but I think after a week of 90% of her time spent on her tootsie toes, we will call her a walker.  She is the most cautious walkers I have ever seen (at least in my family).  I remember the first day Mags crawled was &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;also&lt;/span&gt; the first day she stood, and the first day she climbed a step.  Not &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;KJ&lt;/span&gt;, she takes it slow and steady.  Good for her.  I always wanted a "chill" toddler.  Haven't had one yet.  Maybe it is her!  I am so happy for her.  She is so proud of herself and can get into so many new things she could not reach before!  She can also wear cute dresses now!  (I am not a fan of crawling babies in dresses... it just seems cruel!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-8221357141999394259?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/8221357141999394259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=8221357141999394259' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/8221357141999394259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/8221357141999394259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2010/03/up-and-running.html' title='Up and Running'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-2376748699124473375</id><published>2010-02-16T22:14:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-16T22:26:21.657-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Little Martha Stewart</title><content type='html'>People always comment on how much Mags looks like Sean.  Many people, who do not know her well, also assume she is a tom boy.  I guess because she looks like Sean.  She is so far from a Tom boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She loves to clean, set the table, decorate and re-decorate rooms and put together great outfits.  She is also really good at it.  She has an "eye" for putting outfits together and for creating centerpieces on our dinner table (or the coffee table, or the floor, or her bed, you get the point.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well this she gets from her mom, not her dad.  Her dad, I am sure, does not even know the color of our bedroom, let alone what pictures are on the wall.  I also bet that Mags does. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well yesterday I was in the shower.  K was napping and M, M and B were in my bed watching TV.  When I came out, Maggie had gotten a "treat" for all the girls.  She had gone into the kitchen, got three cups and filled them with not just milk, chocolate milk!  Then she got out two glass dishes and put a variety of choices of snacks on the plates.  She had a few pretzels, some &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Hershey&lt;/span&gt; kisses, a handful of conversation hearts, and a few other choices (I would like to say some fruit or veggies, but not so sure).  They were sectioned off neatly, and I think she may have even alternated dark and light colors, just like her mom would do.  I was so proud I let them eat all that food right there in my bed!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Maura&lt;/span&gt; looks just like me, but she, like her father would have just brought a bag of chips up.  Mags, looks like her dad, but she sure is like her mom in so many ways!  I guess we will see what B and k bring!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-2376748699124473375?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/2376748699124473375/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=2376748699124473375' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/2376748699124473375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/2376748699124473375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2010/02/my-little-martha-stewart.html' title='My Little Martha Stewart'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-2779426261811648455</id><published>2010-01-18T11:40:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-18T12:33:54.477-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Holiday recap....really short</title><content type='html'>We had a great holiday.  It is overwhelming to recap it all, because so many things, wonderful things, happened. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had great times with every member of our immediate families, brothers, sisters, cousins, grandparents.  It was so nice to see everyone.  We had a great brunch with Santa, a formal dinner out at A&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ronimink&lt;/span&gt;, mass at Saint &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Norberts&lt;/span&gt; (in the front row again), dinner at the Smiths (with a gift exchange thrown in).  We woke up Christmas morning to discover that Santa had left tons of gifts &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;under&lt;/span&gt; the tree.  We tore through them and loved every one.  &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Oba&lt;/span&gt; and Grandad, Ryan and Chris then joined us for brunch... and of course, more presents.  Mimi, Papa, aunt Colleen, Uncle Dave, and the Arlington &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;O'Reillys&lt;/span&gt; came by for an informal dinner.  We saw the light show and rode the train.  M, M and I went to see the newest Disney Princess movie, The Princess and the Frog.  We went to lunch before... at a REAL restaurant, not a kids' restaurant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a fun visit to the Shorts.  I love getting together with them, not only because I like Adeline and Elizabeth's parents, but the girls LOVE each other.  They don't see each other for months, but when they do they run into each other's arms, hug, and we really do not see them again for hours.  That is not to say they aren't up to no good somewhere, but we just don't see them.  The &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Unsers&lt;/span&gt; also joined us... so fun to see them after so long. &lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;New years at &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Aronimink&lt;/span&gt; was eventful.  B was missing for about 20 minutes.  I was really in the panic mode by minute 12.  We found her and Chloe up on the second floor in a bathroom up to no good!  After that, all was good with face painting, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;photobooths&lt;/span&gt;, balloon making, dancing, eating, drinking (parents not the kids).  And to top it off, a count down to 9:00pm, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;ending&lt;/span&gt; in fireworks!  Of course I was asleep by 11:00, but woke up a few minutes before midnight and saw the official countdown.  Back asleep by 12:01. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I look back on last year, I feel truly blessed.  I mean how lucky am I to have a healthy, relatively happy family.  We are safe, well fed, loved, healthy.  At night, when the girls are snuggled, and the lights are dimmer, and the fire is roaring, I honestly feel like the luckiest girl around.  Thanks 2009.  You were great!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-2779426261811648455?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/2779426261811648455/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=2779426261811648455' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/2779426261811648455'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/2779426261811648455'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2010/01/holiday-recapreally-short.html' title='Holiday recap....really short'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-3988586111029326951</id><published>2010-01-09T22:13:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-09T22:18:08.431-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I should be flattered</title><content type='html'>My girls love me. They really, really do.  I should be flattered.  I should feel blessed, and don't get me wrong, I do, and I am.  But really.  You are sitting on my lap.  You have your head buried into my chest.  I am there.  There is no need for you to scream at the top of your lungs "mommy".  It would be physically impossible for you to get any closer to me.  Unless, of course, you somehow climbed back into my uterus.  And I know at least one girl who would willingly do that.  Gross, I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have threatened to change my name, but they're smart little buggers.  They would figure out my new name and scream that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously, somethimes they are in the kitchen with Sean, and they come upstairs to the bathroom, while I am in the shower, to ask me to get them a drink.  Really?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe they don't love me as much as they use me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-3988586111029326951?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/3988586111029326951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=3988586111029326951' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/3988586111029326951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/3988586111029326951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2010/01/i-should-be-flattered.html' title='I should be flattered'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-1048026604449685273</id><published>2009-12-14T15:24:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-14T15:53:11.122-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sweet sounds in the morning.</title><content type='html'>Neither Sean nor I are morning people.  A loud moan is often heard in our room when the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;pitter&lt;/span&gt;-patter of feet enters our room at 7:00 am every morning.  Why don't kids sleep in?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other morning we woke not to foot steps (or tugging on the arm, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;whining&lt;/span&gt;, I'm hungry) but to giggles and an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;elaborate&lt;/span&gt; game of make believe coming from downstairs.  All three girls had woken up and instead of heading right to our room, they headed downstairs.  We could hear them playing so well together.  They were very involved in our game, and we were grateful for the extra minutes of sleep. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is moments like that when I am so happy we had four so close.   I just bought a sign that says "Having a sister is like having a best friend around for your whole life."  I love it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-1048026604449685273?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/1048026604449685273/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=1048026604449685273' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/1048026604449685273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/1048026604449685273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2009/12/sweet-sounds-in-morning.html' title='Sweet sounds in the morning.'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-4664013037370986682</id><published>2009-12-14T15:20:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-14T15:24:08.659-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Theater goers</title><content type='html'>The girls have become the little theater goers.  They have seen the Nutcracker Suite twice this season and will be seeing Charlotte's Web on stage next weekend.  They love dressing up and going to the show.  The also love to come home and do their own  versions of the shows on our hearth. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B (who doesn't yet get to go to the shows) loves to get in on the action too.  Her rendition includes yelling "watch his" and doing some type of dive/jump onto the floor.  Quite comical, also quite &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;painful&lt;/span&gt; (looking).  I am sure we are in for more and more shows as the years go by.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-4664013037370986682?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/4664013037370986682/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=4664013037370986682' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/4664013037370986682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/4664013037370986682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2009/12/theater-goers.html' title='Theater goers'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-1513751081370201471</id><published>2009-12-14T15:13:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-14T15:20:27.405-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Put it in my baby book please.</title><content type='html'>Maura is doing better and better at "reading" or spelling, not sure what the technical term is.  She is starting to sound out words and spell them.  She is always reading words off signs and papers and asking me what they spell.  Sometimes she makes up her own words..."Mom, what does &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;rfty&lt;/span&gt; spell?"  She is disappointed to find out it spells, well, nothing that makes sense.  The other day she asked me a series of letters and asked what they spelled.  Her last one was B-A-T.  She was so excited that it was an ACTUAL word.  Her face lit up.  She was so proud.  And she said, "Mom, don't laugh, but please put this is my baby book."  I did not laugh.  I did choke a little.  Baby book?  Who teaches you such things?  Why on earth would she ask me to do that?  I would totally put it in her baby book... if she had one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-1513751081370201471?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/1513751081370201471/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=1513751081370201471' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/1513751081370201471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/1513751081370201471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2009/12/put-it-in-my-baby-book-please.html' title='Put it in my baby book please.'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-4158932323398360697</id><published>2009-12-01T23:05:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-01T23:14:04.957-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday My Little Kerr-Bear!</title><content type='html'>Our little Kerri Jean turned one today.  I really am in complete denial.  I don't want my baby to be one. Well really one is okay, but I don't want her to be 4 or 5 or 6 or... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were eating dinner last night, and she was sitting in her high chair so sweet and quiet.  She got a huge smile on her face anytime you looked over at her.  She was quietly watching the girls running laps and screaming around the house.  She would occasionally look over to me, smile and clap her hands.  I don't want THAT to end. that sweetness.  that calmness.  that that makes Kerri Jean who she is right now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just absolutely adore her in every way.  A friend of mine talked about her fourth being her "closer."  Her daughter is a little tough and therefore, makes it easy for her to say "I'm done."  I think Kerri may be our "closer," but for a completely different reason, she is just so sweet and perfect, you don't want to tempt the fates. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;KJ&lt;/span&gt; for being so darn sweet.  Thanks for your big gummy smiles (she just got her third tooth last week with 3 more ready to bust through!).  Thanks for your claps and your beautiful eyes.  Thanks for you chubby cheeks and thighs that match.  Please stay as sweet as you are!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-4158932323398360697?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/4158932323398360697/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=4158932323398360697' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/4158932323398360697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/4158932323398360697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2009/12/happy-birthday-my-little-kerr-bear.html' title='Happy Birthday My Little Kerr-Bear!'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-4385489729874050659</id><published>2009-11-29T22:55:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-29T22:56:22.291-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Please stand up.</title><content type='html'>No need to ask KJ twice.  She stood up today, without holding on to anything for about 10-15 seconds!  Papa, Mommy, Daddy and Mimi were all there to see it!  Yeah... go Kerri!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-4385489729874050659?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/4385489729874050659/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=4385489729874050659' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/4385489729874050659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/4385489729874050659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2009/11/please-stand-up.html' title='Please stand up.'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-1813054321344127933</id><published>2009-11-21T23:30:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-21T23:40:56.222-05:00</updated><title type='text'>We are doing something right.</title><content type='html'>Of course during this Thanksgiving season the kids do all kinds of crafts with turkeys and thankfulness and all that. Well, when I went in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;for&lt;/span&gt; Mags conference her teacher gave me her "thankful" turkey. She had four feathers on it with things she is currently thankful for... Mom and Dad (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;thankyouverymuch&lt;/span&gt;) chicken nuggets, the playground and friends, and God. I thought all those things seemed fine, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;normal&lt;/span&gt; for a four year old. But her teacher pointed out the "God" feather. She said that really &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;impressed&lt;/span&gt; her and surprised her. In all her years of teaching (14) no one has ever said that (seems hard to believe). Mags was not prepped at all and said it on her own. I was proud (of myself!) but moved on to the writing and the socializing and the other things that come up in a conference.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday Maura came home with a bag of crafts. Her thankful turkey, which I must say was&lt;br /&gt;3-D and pretty impressive, only had one thing she was thankful for. You guessed it... God. I guess we are doing something right here. Of course, if we were doing even better, maybe her one thing she was thankful for would be her mom and dad!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-1813054321344127933?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/1813054321344127933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=1813054321344127933' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/1813054321344127933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/1813054321344127933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2009/11/we-are-doing-somthing-right.html' title='We are doing something right.'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-5797385998351139212</id><published>2009-11-18T18:18:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-18T18:31:15.779-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Conferences</title><content type='html'>So conferences have begun.  Maggie had her very first conference this year.  I am feeling a little guilty.  See, we always compare Mags to what Maura was doing at her age.  Now, we pushed Maura ahead when she was little (thus she is repeating &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;preK&lt;/span&gt; this year).  So Maura was introduced to everything early.  What we should be comparing Maggie to is what Maura was doing at her "grade" (I know we should NOT be comparing them at all, but let's be real).  SO I went to meet with Mags teacher.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently she is very advanced for her age... who &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;woulda&lt;/span&gt; thunk it?!?  She showed me a picture of a person Mags drew.  It was very recognizably a person... a person with his limbs coming out of his head.  Well, this is apparently advanced for her age.  And the fact that she can write her name, well also advanced.  Needless to say, I left feeling proud, but a little ashamed.  I will never refer to Mags as "just not the student type" again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maura's conference went well too.  She is doing great, making friends and loving life in general.  Her alphabet book was great, full of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;drawings&lt;/span&gt; and words she &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;wrote&lt;/span&gt;, many of which she spells herself.  Her teacher did comment that she needs to slow &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;down&lt;/span&gt; and be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;a little&lt;/span&gt; neater.  Her teacher last year told her that too.  We notice it too, but I guess if that is the worst thing, that is not too bad.  We'll work on it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We did not have a conference for B... I did not want to hear anything bad!!  just kidding, I talked to her &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;teacher&lt;/span&gt; at the auction for a while and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;thought&lt;/span&gt; it would be repetitive.  Her teacher says she thinks B is going to "blossom developmentally" this year so we will have to keep in touch!  We'll see!  She is still loving school and talks about her teacher, Ms. Cammy, all the time.  She also seems to have stopped hitting kids and generally beating people up (she never did this in school, but she did every where else!)  She sure is a lot to keep up with, but she really is so darn cute and so flipping funny!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am very glad the girls are doing so well and have adjusted so nicely and easily to their new school and environment.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-5797385998351139212?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/5797385998351139212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=5797385998351139212' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/5797385998351139212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/5797385998351139212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2009/11/conferences.html' title='Conferences'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-3569257485702779066</id><published>2009-11-12T09:07:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-12T10:01:10.545-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Some things I want to remember...</title><content type='html'>This morning I heard Sean say something to B that I had forgotten that she used to say.  I thought, I can't believe I forgot that, already.  That made me head down to my computer and write down a few things that the girls are doing now that I want to remember.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maura:&lt;br /&gt;If you ask her if she likes something (that she really likes) she says, "No, I don't like it.  I LOVE it."  or "No, I am not excited.  I am SUPER EXCITED."  The first time she said it about me (I really love you!) I have to say, I was thrilled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maura is growing up and is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;seeming&lt;/span&gt; to get a bit of an attitude.  I am trying to nip it in the bud by counting her and sending her to her room for her "attitude" but it is kind of hard to clearly define and explain "attitude" to a five year old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maura loves school and all her friends now.  She has been asking for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;playdates&lt;/span&gt; (and having them) &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;a lot&lt;/span&gt; this year.  When she walks into school everyone yells. Hi Maura.  When I pick her up, she waves at everyone out of the window and says goodbye to each one by name.  This may not be unusual for most kids, but it is for Maura.  She was very quiet last year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maura is sounding out words and learning to read some words.  She loves it.  She asks a ton of questions and explains things in great detail.  One day Maura, Maggie and I were playing hairdresser.  Mags was busy combing and twirling and spraying my hair.  Maura sat on the other side explaining the building that the hairdresser was in... we were on the 9&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; floor.  there were three elevators; if you wanted lunch.... etc.  She explained it for over twenty minutes.  Maggie was done doing my hair and on to a new game, and Maura was still describing the building.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She has homework each week that she does totally on her own.  She may not always do it how I would have her do it, but she does it.  I am proud of her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She explains her emotions very well.  She will say."I am jealous" or "angry" or (my favorite) "frustrated" (not that I like her being frustrated, just that I think it is cute to hear that word coming out of her mouth.).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mags:&lt;br /&gt;Still the dress up queen.  Today she wore a Tiara to school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Notices anything new on a person... a haircut, a new pair of shoes, earrings, etc.  She always compliments it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still asks for a wiper towel. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is a great "story teller."  We love to hear all her stories.  They are usually very similar to something that happened to someone else in the family, but with her name/friends substituted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is the biggest &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;cuddler&lt;/span&gt;.  She will cuddle any time, any place.  As you lie there, she &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;will&lt;/span&gt; rub your back, play with your hair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still twists her hair and sucks on a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;sippy&lt;/span&gt; cup like a bottle.  When she gets upset she demands milk.  If she is very upset, she will go find a pacifier and suck on that for a few minutes (hours if I would let her).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Says I love you to the North Star, Uranus (not pronounced quite that way) Saturn and back.  (The moon and back got boring.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bridget:&lt;br /&gt;Says:  Ho Ho &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Da&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Da&lt;/span&gt; (we have no idea what this means).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you say "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;O'Reilly&lt;/span&gt;" in a sing &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;songy&lt;/span&gt; voice, she will repeat it (in the same sing &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;songy&lt;/span&gt; voice) over and over again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Loves doing whatever the older girls are doing.  Yesterday I gave the girls all candy corns.  Maura and Maggie put theirs in a bowl.  B disappeared for a little bit and came back with her candy corn on a plate.  She was so proud to be like her sisters.  Of course, balancing candy corn on a plate is not so easy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Loves her dolls.  Really loves playing mommy right now and is super loving and kind to them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;loves sitting or laying or rolling on Kerri.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her teacher told us she falls off her chair at least twice during snack time each day.  I think that is hilarious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Knows when she is doing something she should not be (which is a lot) and has a smile that tells you this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kerri:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cruising all over the place.  She is so busy and so curious and so quiet.  She will crawl from room to room and just play with whatever is there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She gets so excited to see you when you walk into the room.  The other day when I picked her up from the gym babysitting room she was jumping up and down so much the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;excersaucer&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;they&lt;/span&gt; still put her in that at the gym) was banging on the floor so loudly.  Everyone at the gym loves little &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;KJ&lt;/span&gt;.  They are always saying how perfect she is. I would chalk it up to "they say that about everyone" but I have three other girls there, so I know that is not the case.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;KJ&lt;/span&gt; is a great eater.  She will eat anything you give her.  She will sit in her high chair for an hour eating if you let her (and I do).  When she is done eating and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;no one&lt;/span&gt; is around she will just twist her head around and look all over for you.  You'll see her little top of her head peeking out, but she doesn't cry or scream. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Started wearing her hair in the waterfall ponytail just this week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you hold her amrs, she will take one or two steps, but really is not that interested in walking yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can climb up the steps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always think I am going to remember everything, but I alraedy forgot some of the things I thought of today when I was upstairs, so I will definitely be adding to this post later. &lt;br /&gt;loves being tickled.  Has the best laugh ever!  Well, hers and Bridget's are both great.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-3569257485702779066?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/3569257485702779066/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=3569257485702779066' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/3569257485702779066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/3569257485702779066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2009/11/some-things-i-want-to-remember.html' title='Some things I want to remember...'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-4709721752612625045</id><published>2009-11-01T12:34:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-01T12:42:49.317-05:00</updated><title type='text'>KJ is moving on up</title><content type='html'>And it is making more work for mommy.  Time to get out the gates again.  Kerri officially crawled up the entire stairway from the basement to the kitchen on Monday, October 26&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;.  I usually just close the doors that lead into the laundry room and the basement and let her have at it.  Or just let her go where  ever she wants in the playroom.  No longer is that a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;possibility&lt;/span&gt;.  And she is so darn quiet, you lose her very easily.  One minute she is crawling in the family room right next to you, the next she is gone.  I am scurrying around looking for her.  She crawls fast and quietly.  I have minor heart attacks a few times a day, wondering if I forgot her &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;somewhere&lt;/span&gt;.  She is so quiet in the car that I often will yell back to the girls in the truck to check if &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;KJ&lt;/span&gt; is in her &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;carseat&lt;/span&gt;.  So far, we haven't left her anywhere (well there was that one time back at the girls old school, but that was just for a minute or two and all was good).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day I was talking to my friend Meghan on the phone and put &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;KJ&lt;/span&gt; down for a nap while we were on the phone.  10 minutes later I hung up and starting looking around for Kerri.  I couldn't find her on the first floor (obviously).  I ran to the playroom to see if she was there... the girls hadn't seen her.  I was starting to get nervous, a little panicked I might say.  As I started to run up the steps to the second floor I noticed her closed bedroom door, and just then remembered I had already put her down for a nap.  Yes, I am officially that batty old mom that lives up the street.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-4709721752612625045?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/4709721752612625045/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=4709721752612625045' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/4709721752612625045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/4709721752612625045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2009/11/kj-is-moving-on-up.html' title='KJ is moving on up'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-4906598725824033255</id><published>2009-11-01T12:21:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-01T12:34:39.259-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Birthdays.</title><content type='html'>Somehow we now have a five and a four year old living in our house.  Maura turned 5 on September 21st (yes, a while back) and Mags turned 4 this past Wednesday.  We had two &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;separate&lt;/span&gt; parties for them this year.  Each was very different, but I think the girls had a ball at their parties.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maura had her party at a gymnastics center this year.  It was fantastic.  They got to jump on trampolines, play games, do the parachute, even "fly" on the harness.  All the parents standing around were jealous of that part!!  It was also the easiest party to prep for.  I made cupcakes and favor bags, (and a little more here and there) and that was basically it.  No cleaning, before or after, no meals, wow was it easy.  I swore that day, NEVER to have another kids party at our house again.  So what did we do last night?  Had 25 of our favorite under 6 friends (and their parents) at our house for a party.  A little (insert eye roll) more work, but still l&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;ots&lt;/span&gt; of fun.  We played a few crazy games.  They were unorganized and crazy, which drives me nuts.  I like things ordered (not sure why I keep having kids then!).  Had some food, ate cupcakes, then went trick or treating.  It rained on our parade (literally) so we had a bunch of wet cats and witches, and princesses, and cowboys.  The rain however, did not seem to bother most of the under 3 foot crowd at all. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were lucky to have some friends stay to watch the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Phillies&lt;/span&gt; (lose) and the Shorts spent the night.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;This&lt;/span&gt; was an extra treat for the girls.  A sleepover.  I mean, it doesn't really get any better than that!  It seems like every sleepover gets a little easier for us.  This is giving me hope that a three bedroom house in Hilton Head just might work next summer! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is also &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;KJ's&lt;/span&gt; 11 month birthday!!!  UGH!  Please stop growing.  I do not want a one year old any time soon.  I want a baby!  It might be interesting to note that this is the longest I have gone between pregnancies.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Hmm&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-4906598725824033255?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/4906598725824033255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=4906598725824033255' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/4906598725824033255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/4906598725824033255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2009/11/birthdays.html' title='Birthdays.'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-494402218408756925</id><published>2009-10-12T19:17:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-12T19:24:16.691-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Camping</title><content type='html'>We went on our first real family camping trip this weekend.  Maura and Maggie have both gone with my parents before.  We have "camped" in our backyard, or even better, in the atrium in our house, but never taken all four kids out to a real campground.  We did this weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My parents took M&amp;amp;M on Friday and met up with Ryan and Chris.  We met them there Saturday around noon.  It was pretty d&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;arn&lt;/span&gt; cold, but it did not bother the girls, just their wimpy momma.  They loved it.  They had fun riding bikes with Ryan, went hiking with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Chris&lt;/span&gt; and Ryan.  We went to boulder field with everyone (which was really cool).  We went to church in town, then had dinner and headed to bed.  I have to say, that was where the downfall came.  Getting little ones to sleep in a camper filled with people they would love to be playing with is not easy.  Keeping them asleep and quiet while not waking anyone else...also not easy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kerri and I headed to the truck at 5:45 am for a little one on one time.  Ugh, not fun... it was dark and cold.  But we had a good morning after everyone else decided to get up... at 8:45am.  Yes, so not fair.  Nothing like hanging in a truck with a 10 month old that just wants to crawl around for 3 hours!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, it was definitely worth it.  The girls loved it and are asking when we can go again... when it is warmer is definitely part of the answer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-494402218408756925?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/494402218408756925/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=494402218408756925' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/494402218408756925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/494402218408756925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2009/10/camping.html' title='Camping'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-4729826965782265059</id><published>2009-10-12T19:14:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-12T19:16:50.995-04:00</updated><title type='text'>School update.</title><content type='html'>All the girls are loving school. I am loving the school. The teachers are great; the parents have been great. I love the director and administrator. The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;girls&lt;/span&gt; seem to be learning &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;a lot&lt;/span&gt;. And best yet, NO ONE cries when I drop them off! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Yay&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;hoo&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-4729826965782265059?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/4729826965782265059/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=4729826965782265059' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/4729826965782265059'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/4729826965782265059'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2009/10/school-update.html' title='School update.'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-7592876981766352950</id><published>2009-09-16T14:58:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-12T19:27:28.464-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Ready, E Set, GO!</title><content type='html'>This is how we were feeling this week with the first days of school coming. (I love the way the girls twist phrases a bit... this is one of Maggie's... E set, instead of get set). So they were ready. They were set, and they went. And they loved it! They really, really loved it. All of them. So far (knock on wood) we have had no tears. Maura hopped in the car chatting non-stop about her day and the story her teacher read her. She paused long enough to let me get from her door to mine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-7592876981766352950?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/7592876981766352950/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=7592876981766352950' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/7592876981766352950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/7592876981766352950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2009/09/ready-e-set-go.html' title='Ready, E Set, GO!'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-1816183701749928204</id><published>2009-09-16T14:48:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-16T14:58:35.487-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Too darn cute...</title><content type='html'>This is something I say &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;a lot&lt;/span&gt;, but this time it was oh so true.  The girls walked down the aisle hand in hand at Colleen and Dave's wedding looking so sweet and so innocent and so perfect and of course, so darn cute. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;During&lt;/span&gt; the hour and a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;half&lt;/span&gt; rehearsal Mags had a little &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;meltdown&lt;/span&gt; towards the end and got to come up on the altar with me during the practice vows.  i thought she might remember that at the real wedding and decide it would be cool to get "up on stage."  but no, she did great.  They all did great. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My parents were amazing helpers all weekend.  My dad even came out to party on Friday.  My mom was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;in charge&lt;/span&gt; of the kids at the mass.  They were great.  The girls had a ball at the reception and really did not want to leave.  I was feeling guilty about making them leave (at 9:45 mind you), but that guilt quickly went away when Sean and I hit the dance floor... &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;whoo&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;hoo&lt;/span&gt;! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Colleen and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Dave&lt;/span&gt; looked like they thoroughly enjoyed every minute, and the whole thing went off without a problem.  I have to admit, it took me a few days to recover from two late nights, but it was well worth it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-1816183701749928204?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/1816183701749928204/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=1816183701749928204' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/1816183701749928204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/1816183701749928204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2009/09/too-darn-cute.html' title='Too darn cute...'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-3476817961805261932</id><published>2009-08-31T16:55:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-31T16:56:29.889-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Congrats Aunt Col and Uncle Davey!</title><content type='html'>The wedding was this past weekend.  It was great.  Colleen looked great.  The party  was great.  The girls (my biggest fear) were great.  It was so great, that I will have to come back later and write all about it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-3476817961805261932?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/3476817961805261932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=3476817961805261932' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/3476817961805261932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/3476817961805261932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2009/08/congrats-aunt-col-and-uncle-davey.html' title='Congrats Aunt Col and Uncle Davey!'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-1132189792763663412</id><published>2009-08-21T17:34:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-31T16:55:00.611-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I knew this day would come.</title><content type='html'>Every month on each of the girl's "month birthday" we do a little mini celebration. Not even a celebration, really. We just make it known that they are 4 years and 11 months (in Mo's case today), let them pick the activities (kind of) for the day, and also pick dinner. Oh, and they also get to eat off of an adorable little "This is your special day" plate, made by yours truly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, so far, pretty much every month birthday that rolls around, the girls ask for chicken nuggets and ketchup. Sometimes they throw in fries. A couple of times they may have asked for pizza. I kept thinking, silly girls, they could have ANYTHING, and they are asking for the same thing they very well could have two other times that week! Well, no longer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning when I informed Maura it was her month birthday... what would she like for dinner? She quickly answered with a "chicken &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;nug&lt;/span&gt;... no, not chicken nuggets. I think I want lasagna. Yes lasagna." Okay, I can do that. Not really in the mood for making lasagna, but a bit healthier than nuggets. "Nope, mom, I changed my mind. I don't want nuggets. I want to go out to eat. To &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Friendlys&lt;/span&gt;. And get ice cream at the end. And I want them to sing me happy birthday."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is no turning back now. I have a feeling in 7 days when Mags' month birthday rolls around, she will NOT be asking for chicken nuggets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;added:  We did go to Friendlys that night.  Myself and the three older girls.  Maura ordered (yes, chicken nuggets and fries).  They sang to her.  They brought her balloons.  She was in heaven.  I am not sure if we can top that on her "real" birthday next month.  Also, I am sure all the wait staff who came out to sing to her were not thrilled when they asked her how old she was and she said, oh so proudly, "4 years and 11 months!"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-1132189792763663412?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/1132189792763663412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=1132189792763663412' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/1132189792763663412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/1132189792763663412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2009/08/i-knew-this-day-would-come.html' title='I knew this day would come.'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-4684870903779067398</id><published>2009-08-15T20:58:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-15T21:15:27.709-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sorry Girls.</title><content type='html'>Mama has been neglecting her already neglectful version of a baby book! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not sure what we have been doing, but it is summer; there are wet bathing suits drying daily, art projects (mostly half-finished) lying around, toys covering the floor, laundry covering the couches, dishes filling the dish washer, half finished "house projects" all over... I guess that is what we have been doing... living!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So B turned 2.  Sweet little, cute little, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;mischievous&lt;/span&gt; little B, turned 2.  She really is a little rock star, as I like to call her B Rock!  She is talking up a storm, and it is just so cute to hear her learn more words and more meanings behind the words every day.  She says little sweet things like, "scare me" if the vacuum is on and runs to hide.  If you take her out of her car seat too roughly (who does that??? Not me!) she says "hurt me."  It is the cutest little thing.  She says this phrase "ha ha doe, doe" all the time.  Not sure what it means, but she sure knows.  She still loves to eat, anything.  Right now, as I ignore her, she is saying "I cookie" (she has said it about 55 times so far with no end in sight.  She keeps up with her sisters very well.  Her and Maggie &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;play&lt;/span&gt; great together when Mo is not around (when Mo is around Mags is trying to impress her).  They will soon be sharing a room, so that is a very good thing.  If she was an only child she would be a pure pleasure.  She is a very easy child, she &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;just&lt;/span&gt; has a hard tie with two older sisters on her case all the time and a mommy who is often a little stressed out! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Belated Birthday &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Beesy&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Neesy&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-4684870903779067398?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/4684870903779067398/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=4684870903779067398' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/4684870903779067398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/4684870903779067398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2009/08/sorry-girls_15.html' title='Sorry Girls.'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-3268322757132482683</id><published>2009-08-15T20:58:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-15T20:59:06.473-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sorry Girls.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-3268322757132482683?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/3268322757132482683/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=3268322757132482683' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/3268322757132482683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/3268322757132482683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2009/08/sorry-girls.html' title='Sorry Girls.'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-231466005752437031</id><published>2009-07-11T23:21:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-11T23:24:49.856-04:00</updated><title type='text'>26 seconds.</title><content type='html'>That has been the longest little &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;KJ&lt;/span&gt; has seen the world from her new vantage point... sitting up.  I am not sure if I am &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;getting&lt;/span&gt; tougher, rougher, less/more sentimental, but I am not really counting it.  I am sure the first time Mo sat up for 26 seconds (with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Mississippi's&lt;/span&gt; in between) i counted it as sitting up, but my standards have gone up.  Great work Kerri, we are proud but we are not &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;writing&lt;/span&gt; it down in the baby book yet (that would be if a baby book existed!).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-231466005752437031?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/231466005752437031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=231466005752437031' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/231466005752437031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/231466005752437031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2009/07/26-seconds.html' title='26 seconds.'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-1409599440286753025</id><published>2009-06-29T17:58:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-29T18:10:48.348-04:00</updated><title type='text'>One Fish, Two Fish...</title><content type='html'>The girls, all of them, are loving the pool this summer.  And believe it or not, this year is a little easier at the pool then last, even though I have one more child.   I am not sure if it is because I am slowly giving up, or if the girls really are doing good in the pool.  Maura and Maggie are doing great with their "swimming."  Neither are afraid to try to swim under water. Maura is actually pretty successful at it, and mags is still thrilled to float on her back 9from last year's swim lessons).  they love jumping in and are CONSTANTLY yelling "Mom, watch!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B loves the water too.  She however is bored with the baby pool and likes to run over to the lap pool and throw herself in.  No matter what she is wearing.  She likes to get in the water right after I get her dressed in her dress to go home.  lovely!  She loves to go underwater.  It is kind of freaky, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;because&lt;/span&gt; she leaves her eyes WIDE open and looks up at you.  Weird. She gets cold fast and is also very content to sit on the chaise eating teddy grahams (thanks Kate). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;KJ&lt;/span&gt; also loves to splash in the water.  She will probably like it more when she can sit up... I know I will.  She however usually spends much of her time in the stroller in the shade.  But hey, she is not complaining, yet. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I thought I would avoid the pool this summer, but so far it has not been too bad.  Of course, I have not been there when I know &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;no one&lt;/span&gt;.  An issue always arises when there is a bathroom trip.  Dragging the non-pee-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;ers&lt;/span&gt; to the bathroom is not always done so willingly.  While trying to convince the others to follow us, the pee-er is doing the potty dance saying I CAN'T HOLD IT  ANY LONGER.  Those are some good times.   Don't want to be the reason &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;they&lt;/span&gt; shut down the baby pool.  I admit it, it has happened to us before (Darn non &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;absorbent&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;swimmie&lt;/span&gt; diapers!).  I would like to avoid having it happen again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-1409599440286753025?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/1409599440286753025/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=1409599440286753025' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/1409599440286753025'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/1409599440286753025'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2009/06/one-fish-two-fish.html' title='One Fish, Two Fish...'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-5976581210530209929</id><published>2009-06-29T17:50:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-29T17:58:10.255-04:00</updated><title type='text'>You've got two days KJ.</title><content type='html'>Kerri has her 6 month check up (on her 7 month birthday... we had a little &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;cancellation&lt;/span&gt; due to some double booking of activities on my part) on Wednesday.  I have been there (3 times in the last 4 years)  and done that.  Usually these are pretty routine.  The kids are on target, healthy, no concerns and no questions. Thank goodness, because with the wait time and three other little girls running around &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;the&lt;/span&gt; 4 ft by 4ft room the shove us into to make us feel like the doctor is going to be coming soon, I really have little time for questions or concerns. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;KJ&lt;/span&gt;, you have two days to learn to sit up.  I mean, you are going to be 7 months.  Aren't you ready for a new perspective on the world? How exciting can it be to look up at the sky or the ceiling all the time?  Aren't you ready to sit and play with some toys?  You will be able to splash in the bathtub... sit on a picnic blanket... go down a slide... sit in the pool... oh my the options are endless.  It would be so great.  Not to mention, Mommy would be able to say, nope, Doctor, no concerns here.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-5976581210530209929?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/5976581210530209929/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=5976581210530209929' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/5976581210530209929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/5976581210530209929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2009/06/youve-got-two-days-kj.html' title='You&apos;ve got two days KJ.'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-3376395555887271006</id><published>2009-06-19T22:55:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-19T22:57:59.578-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Aren't We Lucky?</title><content type='html'>As I was sitting on the back deck steps with the girls and Sean looking out in the yard for lightning bugs at 9:30 pm after another great Friday with family, all I could say was, "Aren't we lucky?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-3376395555887271006?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/3376395555887271006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=3376395555887271006' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/3376395555887271006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/3376395555887271006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2009/06/arent-we-lucky.html' title='Aren&apos;t We Lucky?'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-5111254830464448515</id><published>2009-06-15T18:09:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-15T18:15:43.138-04:00</updated><title type='text'>You shouldn't have done that...</title><content type='html'>because now that I know Maggie and Maura can change a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;poopie&lt;/span&gt; diaper (pretty well I might add) I may make them do it all the time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I was on the phone and marinating fish, aka bad mom multi tasking, Maura comes into the kitchen and says she needs a size 2 diaper.  I think she is putting one on her doll.  She says she can only find a B size... what's the big deal?  The doll won't care.  She then says she is almost done changing K's diaper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get in the room and there it is.  K is on the floor with no diaper.  I then see a wipe with some poop on it.  I immediately get nervous, but apparently for no reason.  The diaper (and yes it was a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;poopie&lt;/span&gt; one) is wrapped nicely on the fireplace hearth.  K's bottom is clean and waiting for a new one.  I hand them a new diaper, and Maura quickly and correctly puts it on.  She was so proud.  Yeah!  Does this mean no more diaper &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;changing&lt;/span&gt; for me?!?!?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-5111254830464448515?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/5111254830464448515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=5111254830464448515' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/5111254830464448515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/5111254830464448515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2009/06/you-shouldnt-have-done-that.html' title='You shouldn&apos;t have done that...'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-2744132822396435842</id><published>2009-06-15T17:51:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-15T18:09:08.791-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Showers (literally) of fun</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;This&lt;/span&gt; past weekend was Colleen's bridal shower.  It was a wonderful weekend.  Very busy and very fun.   We had around 30 people here Friday for some pizza... what a fun time catching up with everyone.  Sean's Aunts (many of them) came in, some cousins, Dave's parents and sisters, Pat, Kristin and kids, all made the trip.  It was lots of fun to see how everyone was doing.  I would imagine it was weird for many of them being in the house with Sean and I as the hosts rather than Sue and Tim.  I am sure if Sue was hosting there would not be pizza as the main dish!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The shower was great.  Colleen got lots of good gifts.  I am jealous.  I think I need a shower!  We had dinner at Sue and Tim's house that night... lots of food, wine and laughs.  The kids hung out with Sean during the day.  I took K to the shower, and she hammed it up, smiling at everyone and being her &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;generally&lt;/span&gt; pleasant self.  The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;girls&lt;/span&gt; were fantastic all weekend.  They were social and well behaved and pretty self sufficient.  This is a good thing, as you never know how they will be.  I wouldn't say we would get "parents of the year" award, but no one is calling Super nanny on us either!  Maura hung (literally) around with Katy and Emily all weekend.  She was devastated Sunday morning when we were headed to church and she asked if "the girls [she] loved so much will be there" and I had to say no.  They are very far away.  M&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;aura&lt;/span&gt; has a bit of an obsession with older girls right now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B was a total card.  She would smile and say cheese even when &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;no one&lt;/span&gt; was taking a picture.  She would flirt with whoever would flirt back.  She usually does not go to people she doesn't know... that phase may be over. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Mags, I am always a little worried about Maggie, but to be honest, I hardly saw her.  She and C&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;aitlin&lt;/span&gt; played great together &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;and&lt;/span&gt; really did their own thing.  Good for them (and good for us).  I was sad the weekend was over so fast.  I am looking forward to the wedding weekend even more now!  Oh, and the showers (literally) in the title referred to the many thundershowers we had this weekend!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-2744132822396435842?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/2744132822396435842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=2744132822396435842' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/2744132822396435842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/2744132822396435842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2009/06/showers-literally-of-fun.html' title='Showers (literally) of fun'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-1883976810277622336</id><published>2009-06-05T18:32:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-05T18:35:05.405-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Renewing our vows</title><content type='html'>Yesterday the girls and I were all taking a bath in the big blue bath tub... a great time killer around 5:00pm!  Maura was brushing my hair playing hairdresser.  She was brushing the back quite hard, but apparently the pain would be worth it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maura:  Mommy, your hair is so straight and beautiful in the back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:  Is it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maura:  You will love it.  Daddy will too.  When he sees this, he will want to marry you all over again!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-1883976810277622336?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/1883976810277622336/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=1883976810277622336' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/1883976810277622336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/1883976810277622336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2009/06/renewing-our-vows.html' title='Renewing our vows'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-2114207333628995588</id><published>2009-05-19T16:42:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-19T16:45:29.789-04:00</updated><title type='text'>There's Way Too Many of Us</title><content type='html'>I was in recovering from surgery last week, so my parents and Sean's parents split the girls up and took them for the week... thanks so much!!  Well sue was driving Maura to gymnastics with her friend Maria and here is the conversation overheard:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maura:  I sure do miss Kerri and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Bridgey&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Maria:  Where are they?&lt;br /&gt;Maura:  At my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Oba&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Grandad's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maria:  Why aren't you all staying together at Mimi's?&lt;br /&gt;Maura:  Oh, there are just way too many of us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-2114207333628995588?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/2114207333628995588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=2114207333628995588' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/2114207333628995588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/2114207333628995588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2009/05/theres-way-too-many-of-us.html' title='There&apos;s Way Too Many of Us'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-2394697678174803960</id><published>2009-05-19T16:37:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-19T16:42:35.111-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Roll Baby Roll</title><content type='html'>Kerri officially rolled over on Sunday, May 9&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;.  She is a happy little roller and does not even get mad when she rolls to her belly and is stuck there.  The loves to sit on her &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;playmat&lt;/span&gt; for hours (well minutes adding up to an hour or more) and is very content.  Yesterday, May 17&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;, she ate carrots for the first time (she had just had rice cereal before) and LOVED them.  She was not too thrilled with the rice, but she enjoyed the carrots.  We will see how that goes again today. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kerri is still so happy and sweet and quiet and everything you want in a baby.  We are so lucky.  We are also fast approaching my favorite stage... the I-can-sit-up-and-play-but-cannot-go-anywhere-stage.  I do enjoy this brief moment in time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-2394697678174803960?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/2394697678174803960/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=2394697678174803960' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/2394697678174803960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/2394697678174803960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2009/05/roll-baby-roll.html' title='Roll Baby Roll'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-3762885995378487847</id><published>2009-04-30T07:36:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-30T07:37:04.382-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Can I just say this...</title><content type='html'>KJ is too darn cute.  So darn sweet and just too darn cute.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-3762885995378487847?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/3762885995378487847/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=3762885995378487847' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/3762885995378487847'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/3762885995378487847'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2009/04/can-i-just-say-this.html' title='Can I just say this...'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-5561499309432090411</id><published>2009-04-29T22:37:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-29T22:44:30.623-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I am on your side Kerri.</title><content type='html'>Or, better put, she loves being on her side.  K loves, loves, loves just hanging out on her side.  She is almost 5 months... holy cow... 5 months, she is getting old.... and has not rolled over yet.  Normally I might be worried that the milestone was not hit "on time."  But in this case I think it is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;because&lt;/span&gt; she is always in some type of contraption... whether it be a high chair, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;bouncy&lt;/span&gt; seat, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;bumbo&lt;/span&gt;, etc.  She is usually strapped in and up high so the B-monster cannot get her.  Lately (after realizing she is almost 5 months and not rolled over yet) I decided she needed more time on her back flat on the floor.  Funny thing is, she is pretty amazing at balancing right there on her side.  Just when I think she is going to tip over, nope, there she is right on her side.  She is usually smiling and happy and just generally enjoying herself.   I think it actually takes more talent to balance like she does then just tip on over.  Good for you Ker-Bear.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-5561499309432090411?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/5561499309432090411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=5561499309432090411' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/5561499309432090411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/5561499309432090411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-am-on-your-side-kerri.html' title='I am on your side Kerri.'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-5397568420022281715</id><published>2009-04-22T22:38:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-22T22:44:23.413-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanks Chris!</title><content type='html'>My brother, Chris, is a big technology "buff."  He loves the newest gadgets and he knows all about them.  He is so excited to get the latest item and try it out.  What is even more amazing is that he gets just as excited for someone else to get the newest and the latest.  He has been so helpful in our quest to get the best (at a reasonable cost) &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;TV&lt;/span&gt; for our new family room.  He has been researching for months.  We finally ordered it. It is coming &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Friday&lt;/span&gt;.  I am happy it is coming... He is ecstatic.  He can't wait to come hook it up (I thought you just plugged it in?!??) and make it the best it can be for our family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's the thing about Chris.  He really wants the best for you.  I don't say it enough, but thanks Chris for always putting others in front of yourself.  I give you a hard time for doing this, but it really is a quality you don't often see these days.  It is a quality that should be appreciated more. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And just for that, the next time you call, I am going to be SUPER excited about our new &lt;span style="BACKGROUND-COLOR: #ffff00"&gt;TV&lt;/span&gt;!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-5397568420022281715?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/5397568420022281715/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=5397568420022281715' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/5397568420022281715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/5397568420022281715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2009/04/thanks-chris.html' title='Thanks Chris!'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-4204566243285799020</id><published>2009-04-22T22:30:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-22T22:38:16.813-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Every once in a while...</title><content type='html'>I have to stop and thank you God for the blessings you have given my family.  I often feel overwhelmed and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;under appreciated&lt;/span&gt;, over scheduled and under paid.  Today I just feel blessed.  At this moment all is good.  I may get up three times tonight to attend to a coughing child, or a bad dream or a potty trip, but honestly, thank God that is all it is.  My girls are here. They are healthy.  We are happy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just another ordinary miracle... that is what every day is.  I just need to slow down and realize that.  I need to remind myself of that.  I need to teach more and "tell" less.  I need to stop more and go less.  I need to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;appreciate&lt;/span&gt; the moment as it is happening more and worry about the next moment less.  It is so easy to say that now as I sit here in a quiet house where everyone is sleeping (and Sean is at the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Phillie's&lt;/span&gt; game!).  It is a whole different story to actually do these things as the day is happening.  I need to try.  I will fail, but I need to try again.  and again.  and again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-4204566243285799020?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/4204566243285799020/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=4204566243285799020' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/4204566243285799020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/4204566243285799020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2009/04/every-once-in-while.html' title='Every once in a while...'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-3433785114190536893</id><published>2009-04-13T22:15:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-13T22:38:54.241-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A letter to the O'Reilly Girls from 221 Greenbrier Lane</title><content type='html'>Dear Girls,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    This is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;just&lt;/span&gt; a little note to say goodbye and thanks for the memories.  You brought light, life and laughter to me for the last 4 1/2 years.  I remember when your parents first moved into me.  They took much pride in me.  They got right to work painting and tiling, "remodeling" and decorating.  They loved inviting friends over, and they were always up for a party, planned or impromptu.  They even lit candles!&lt;br /&gt;   Just two short years later they brought home their first baby girl, Maura Bryn.  Oh how hard they worked to make sure that everything was perfect for you, Maura.  The nursery was lovingly worked on by lots of family.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Grammom&lt;/span&gt; and Aunt Mary painted the beautiful mural on the wall.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Oba&lt;/span&gt; made curtains and helped Daddy paint.  Grandad put up wainscoting.  Everyone wanted to make sure the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;princess&lt;/span&gt; (or prince) had the perfect castle.&lt;br /&gt;     How nice it was to hear the laughs and even the cries of a baby in the house.  What a good baby you were too.  You rarely cried, and you let me get well deserved rest at night (houses need their beauty sleep too, you know!).  Just four months later, we found out another baby was to join the family.  I r&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;emember&lt;/span&gt;, it was right after the Annual St. Patty's Day party that we found out about you.  Your mom couldn't believe it and was so &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;excited&lt;/span&gt; to tell your dad.  She ran right to the Hallmark store to get a "Big Sister" shirt for Maura.  It was now time start getting the big girl bedroom ready.&lt;br /&gt;   And Maggie, we were all secretly (at least your mom and I) hoping for another little girl.  How thrilled I was when your mom and dad put up the stork in the front yard announcing the arrival of another princess.  I was proud to see everyone slowing down in front of me to read all about you.  It got a little crazier in the house, but they were good crazy times. &lt;br /&gt;     The back yard started to get filled with toys and no longer were we lighting candles in the house.  We still had friends over now, and they usually came with their kiddos too.  I was thrilled to hear the laughter of children echoing in my walls again!&lt;br /&gt;     Just when we thought things were slowing down, Miss B arrived.  What a wonderful summer that was.  There were many trips to the park and even the pool.  I missed you when you were gone, but was always happy to hear that front door opening and a burst of life coming through.  B was a quiet baby.  A good sleeper and a good eater.  Maura and Maggie, you two started to share a room, and B was in the nursery.  We thought this would work for a while, and it did, but then, we found out about Miss Kerri Jean.  I remember it well.  Your mom was packing for Ireland.  Your dad was away.  Boy, was your mommy surprised.  She was so anxious for your daddy to get home to tell him about you, Kerri Jean.  Kerri Jean, I was thrilled to hear that you were on your way, but I also knew, I would not get to know you as well as the other girls.  I knew that you and your family would need to move on and find a new house to fill with love.  I wish I got to know you better &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;KJ&lt;/span&gt;, but if you are anything like you sisters, you will be full of life (and quite the monkey!). &lt;br /&gt;    Girls, I enjoyed my time with you.  I hope you hold a little memory somewhere in the back of your mind of the good times you had in me.  Please remember that you loved your first house.  And know that your house loved you too (best of anyone that has--or will-- live here).  I heard you telling your mommy on your last night here that you will miss me.  The feeling is mutual.  Iwill miss you too!&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;Your First House.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-3433785114190536893?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/3433785114190536893/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=3433785114190536893' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/3433785114190536893'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/3433785114190536893'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2009/04/letter-to-oreilly-girls-from-221.html' title='A letter to the O&apos;Reilly Girls from 221 Greenbrier Lane'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-1661332853689236581</id><published>2009-04-13T22:08:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-13T22:15:24.255-04:00</updated><title type='text'>We're In!</title><content type='html'>We have officially moved into our new house, well my new house, Sean's old house, but new now... yes it is all confusing.  It all happened so quickly, but then again it didn't.  We have been waiting for two years, but then once Sean's parents bought their new house, everything seemed to go very quickly.  Again, confusing.  We listed our house mid March.  10 days later it sold.  30 days later (tomorrow) we are turning the keys over to a new family.  I am sad, happy, relieved and nervous all at once.  I hope that our old house brings great memories to the new owners.  it served us well.  We brought all four of our girls home to that house.  We feel comfortable there.  We feel at home there.  I am sure this new house will also serve us well... the memories and all that, but for now I am going to be a little sad to say goodbye to the old one.  I am also sad to say goodbye to our neighborhood and our church.  I already told Sean if we have another (Holy Hannah!) child, I want to baptize her at Sacred Heart where the other girls were baptized, even though it will not be our parish any more.  I got chocked up saying goodbye to Father &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Mckee&lt;/span&gt; on Sunday (we made the commute on last time!).  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Ahh&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-1661332853689236581?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/1661332853689236581/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=1661332853689236581' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/1661332853689236581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/1661332853689236581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2009/04/were-in.html' title='We&apos;re In!'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-3536392683156999109</id><published>2009-04-07T17:17:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-07T17:18:19.472-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Get a grip</title><content type='html'>KJ is now reaching out and grabbing her toys on her bouncey seat.  Way to go KJ!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-3536392683156999109?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/3536392683156999109/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=3536392683156999109' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/3536392683156999109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/3536392683156999109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2009/04/get-grip.html' title='Get a grip'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-5862360075641313672</id><published>2009-04-04T10:29:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-04T10:43:44.610-04:00</updated><title type='text'>B update</title><content type='html'>B has been talking more and more everyday.  Sometimes she will just surprise you, like the other day when we were playing with a tub toy (a purple one) and she said "Purple" very clearly.  She can pretty much repeat what you say, if she wants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She is also still very, very busy.  She never stops.  She runs as fast as she can, arms and hands flapping in the wind, and looks back and you with her &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;snaggletooth&lt;/span&gt; grin, as if to say, "I dare you to try and catch me."  She knows when she is doing something &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;wrong&lt;/span&gt;, she just does not care... unless there is a threat of no treat.  She really does just want to do what the big girls do.  The other day she was all the way up on the top of the monkey bars ready to cross.  I got there just in time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She also loves to sit on the potty.  She also tells me when she needs a new diaper.  She will bring over the diapers and wipes and lie on the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;floor&lt;/span&gt; if you are not quick enough.  I am so NOT ready for potty training.  I am waiting until the weather is nice and there are no more layers.  It is much easier to change an accident when it involves a sundress and panties.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-5862360075641313672?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/5862360075641313672/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=5862360075641313672' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/5862360075641313672'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/5862360075641313672'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2009/04/b-update.html' title='B update'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-6672114818918271388</id><published>2009-04-04T10:21:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-04T10:29:01.851-04:00</updated><title type='text'>You know it is not good...</title><content type='html'>...when the preschool teacher asks if she could talk to you for a minute, then takes you far away from all the other moms to discuss your child.  Apparently Maura, once the ideal, conscientious student, has been slacking off a bit in class.  Her work has been sloppy, when it used to be so neat.  When we asked her about it, she said she wants to win the contest. "What contest would that be?"  The one to see who can write and draw the fastest.  Apparently it is a quiet contest... maybe between Maura and herself?  We aren't really sure.  What do you say?  You're four now Maura, time to straighten up and get serious about your work!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least she's not the smelly kid!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-6672114818918271388?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/6672114818918271388/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=6672114818918271388' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/6672114818918271388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/6672114818918271388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2009/04/you-know-it-is-not-good.html' title='You know it is not good...'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-5483665332391625228</id><published>2009-04-01T13:51:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-04T10:21:34.223-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Taking turns</title><content type='html'>We all try to teach our children to take turns and share, but this is a bit much. The last few days B and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;KJ&lt;/span&gt; have been taking turns waking up at night. Mommy and Daddy need our sleep. Please, if you want to cry for one (or even two) hours at night, that is fine, just try to coordinate it with your sister. I am tired and may very well wreck my car.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-5483665332391625228?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/5483665332391625228/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=5483665332391625228' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/5483665332391625228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/5483665332391625228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2009/04/taking-turns.html' title='Taking turns'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-1180050876851720081</id><published>2009-03-26T17:49:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-26T17:58:10.028-04:00</updated><title type='text'>An interview with Maggie</title><content type='html'>This is a cute idea. Copy this note, ask your kid the questions and write them down exactly how they respond. Tag me back if you haven't done this, I'd love to hear the answers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. What is something mom always says to you? To be good&lt;br /&gt;2. What makes mom happy? Not crying and being good&lt;br /&gt;3. What makes mom sad? When I cry and cry&lt;br /&gt;4. What does your mom do to make you laugh? Making funny faces&lt;br /&gt;5. What was your mom like as a child? Us&lt;br /&gt;6. How old is your mom? I don't know, you need to tell me&lt;br /&gt;7. How tall is your mom? This tall (about 18 inches)... can you be done?&lt;br /&gt;8. What is her favorite thing to do? Excercise&lt;br /&gt;9. What does your mom do when you're not around? I don't know... cut????&lt;br /&gt;10. If your mom becomes famous, what will it be for? For us&lt;br /&gt;11. What is your mom really good at? Excercising ... can you be done now?&lt;br /&gt;12. What is your mom not very good at? I don't know... feeding Kerri&lt;br /&gt;13. What does your mom do for her job? I don't know... tell me.&lt;br /&gt;14. What is your mom's favorite food? I don't know... do you have one?.. can you be done now?&lt;br /&gt;15. What makes you proud of your mom? Being happy&lt;br /&gt;16. If your mom was a cartoon character, who would she be? A Wubzy&lt;br /&gt;17. What do you and your mom do together? Drive to school and do mommy dates&lt;br /&gt;18. How are you and your mom the same? We have the same hair... can you be done?&lt;br /&gt;19. How are you and your mom different? I am small; you are big&lt;br /&gt;20. How do you know your mom loves you? I don't know&lt;br /&gt;21. Where is your mom's favorite place to go? To the gym.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-1180050876851720081?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/1180050876851720081/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=1180050876851720081' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/1180050876851720081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/1180050876851720081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2009/03/interview-with-maggie.html' title='An interview with Maggie'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-4962099605636658050</id><published>2009-03-26T16:06:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-26T16:08:48.657-04:00</updated><title type='text'>An interview with Maura</title><content type='html'>This is a cute idea. Copy this note, ask your kid the questions and write them down exactly how they respond. Tag me back if you haven't done this, I'd love to hear the answers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maura's version:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. What is something mom always says to you? I Love You so much&lt;br /&gt;2. What makes mom happy? When we play together&lt;br /&gt;3. What makes mom sad? when we fight&lt;br /&gt;4. What does your mom do to make you laugh? tells jokes&lt;br /&gt;5. What was your mom like as a child? a girl and a boy in her family&lt;br /&gt;6. How old is your mom? Um how old are you... just tell me really quietly&lt;br /&gt;7. How tall is your mom? Can I stand up for this (as she puts her arm out)&lt;br /&gt;8. What is her favorite thing to do? Play with the kids&lt;br /&gt;9. What does your mom do when you're not around? I don't know what you do when I am not around (good thing!)&lt;br /&gt;10. If your mom becomes famous, what will it be for? riding a bike...like standing upside down on her bike (cuz i am cool like that)&lt;br /&gt;11. What is your mom really good at? long pause...driving&lt;br /&gt;12. What is your mom not very good at? flying&lt;br /&gt;13. What does your mom do for her job? she goes to the gym&lt;br /&gt;14. What is your mom's favorite food? mac and cheese&lt;br /&gt;15. What makes you proud of your mom? when you play with us&lt;br /&gt;16. If your mom was a cartoon character, who would she be? Little Bear&lt;br /&gt;17. What do you and your mom do together? play games&lt;br /&gt;18. How are you and your mom the same? we both have the same haircuts&lt;br /&gt;19. How are you and your mom different? we are not the same age&lt;br /&gt;20. How do you know your mom loves you? because even if she is mad she still loves us&lt;br /&gt;21. Where is your mom's favorite place to go? to the gym.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-4962099605636658050?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/4962099605636658050/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=4962099605636658050' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/4962099605636658050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/4962099605636658050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2009/03/this-is-cute-idea_26.html' title='An interview with Maura'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-3600731664243425355</id><published>2009-03-19T21:24:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-19T21:28:48.500-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Kerri is so very...</title><content type='html'>We sing all types of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;rhymes&lt;/span&gt; for Kerri.  Kerry Bo Berry.  Kerry Cherry pock a perry... She smiles and laughs and coos and giggles.  My favorite is when Mags sings to her.  She makes up the cutes Kerry songs and laughs and really loves playing with her.  When Kerri smiles Mags just laughs.  Maggie also jumps in the crib with B and reads her books and "teaches" her things.  It is so darn cute.  Just the other day she was trying to teach her how to climb out of the crib.  Not so darn cute.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-3600731664243425355?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/3600731664243425355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=3600731664243425355' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/3600731664243425355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/3600731664243425355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2009/03/kerri-is-so-very.html' title='Kerri is so very...'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-618861963715941549</id><published>2009-03-19T21:15:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-19T21:23:56.367-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Taking it one day at a time.</title><content type='html'>Today we were on our way to lunch.  While we were driving Mags was telling a story about when she saw Maura in the hallway at school, but Maura did not see her.  I asked her why she did not call out to her.  She said "I was being shy that day."  She proceeded to tell me that sometimes she is shy.  I thought it would be a good time to tell them that I too am shy sometimes.  I was explaining how in certain situations mommy is nervous when she meets new people. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maura:  "Were you nervous &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;no one&lt;/span&gt; would play with you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:  "Yes, sometimes when Mommy meets new people she is nervous they won't want to play with me or talk to me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maura:  "When I first started in Mrs. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Riehs&lt;/span&gt;' class I was shy too Mama.  I was afraid &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;no one&lt;/span&gt; would play with me, but I just took it one day at a time.  That's what you need to do Mama, just take it one day at a time."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-618861963715941549?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/618861963715941549/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=618861963715941549' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/618861963715941549'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/618861963715941549'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2009/03/taking-it-one-day-at-time.html' title='Taking it one day at a time.'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-9139219875373010845</id><published>2009-03-16T22:57:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-16T23:03:12.774-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Playing with the big kids</title><content type='html'>We have been staying at Sean's parents' house while our house is on the market (which, thankfully, it sold on Friday the 13&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;... just 10 days on the market... sigh of relief.).  The neighbors have three girls.  One in 4&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;grade&lt;/span&gt;, one in 7&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; grade, and one in 12&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; grade.  The two younger ones have played with the girls on a few occasions.  Maura is thrilled.  She loves being with them.  When I bring her home from school, she wants to get together with her new friends.  i have to explain that they are in school.  She wants to invite them to dinner, and of course, to her birthday party.  She showed them her "bedroom." and her playroom.  She offers them food and drink.  She really thinks they are her new best friends. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am just happy to have free babysitters, I mean nice neighbors!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-9139219875373010845?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/9139219875373010845/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=9139219875373010845' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/9139219875373010845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/9139219875373010845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2009/03/playing-with-big-kids.html' title='Playing with the big kids'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-6552797366146294354</id><published>2009-03-16T22:55:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-16T22:57:29.979-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sticking up for her sister.</title><content type='html'>Today at the gym babysitting Bridget was doing her usual screaming and grunting.  The babysitter (who is wonderful) asked B to stop screaming.  Mags said, "Cozy, she is not screaming; that's just the way she talks."  So true!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-6552797366146294354?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/6552797366146294354/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=6552797366146294354' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/6552797366146294354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/6552797366146294354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2009/03/sticking-up-for-her-sister.html' title='Sticking up for her sister.'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-7380105231083418528</id><published>2009-03-02T20:32:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-02T20:40:54.595-05:00</updated><title type='text'>She gets it.. kind of</title><content type='html'>We all have high hopes for our kids.  We hope they are smart, funny, happy, sweet, etc.  One of the qualities I hope my daughters have is an empathy.  I try to explain to them how others are feeling, how we should act/react, but I took child psychology.  I know that empathy is a quality that children cannot truly master (or begin to even realize) until age 7 or 8.  Still, I try. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day we were driving somewhere; we are always driving somewhere, and I told the girls that Miss Meghan had her baby.  Maura asked what it was and what her name was.  After I told Maura a little about Riley, she said, "Mom, I think we should make her a meal.  macaroni and cheese."  I have to say I was proud of her.  I was glad she thought of doing something nice for someone else.  I was a little proud of myself too.  Yes, I am setting a good example, I thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, later that day I was dropping a different meal off to the Smith's house.   Maura said, "I said I wanted to make a meal for Meghan, not Jenn."  I try!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-7380105231083418528?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/7380105231083418528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=7380105231083418528' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/7380105231083418528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/7380105231083418528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2009/03/she-gets-it-kind-of.html' title='She gets it.. kind of'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-1446755805061317237</id><published>2009-03-02T00:04:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-02T00:11:11.692-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Never been so happy for a dull day.</title><content type='html'>We have been so busy these last few weeks getting our house ready to sell that we have really done nothing but that every weekend &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;and&lt;/span&gt; many weeknights.  I knew we were busy, but I did not realize how much I missed simple family time until last night.  Sean and I had spent the day doing yard work (nothing like &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;yard work&lt;/span&gt; in 30 degree weather) and last minute touches on the house.  I about burst into tears of happiness when I realized that all seven (including Jameson... I am not pregnant again) of us were in the kitchen getting ready to have dinner together.  We truly have not done that in a long time.  I was even so much more excited to realize that today we would be going to church together as a family then doing basically nothing all day.  Sean and I even sat down together for lunch and read the paper.  It sure was good times.  I only made one quick trip to the other house today to take the trash to the curb.  Unfortunately, the 8-10 inches of snow may mean the trip was pointless, but it may also mean Sean will be snowed in and not able to go to work and we can have &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;another&lt;/span&gt; boring family day.  Yeah!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-1446755805061317237?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/1446755805061317237/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=1446755805061317237' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/1446755805061317237'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/1446755805061317237'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2009/03/never-been-so-happy-for-dull-day.html' title='Never been so happy for a dull day.'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-1436115504993335754</id><published>2009-03-01T23:59:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-02T00:04:30.457-05:00</updated><title type='text'>You make me laugh</title><content type='html'>Daddy made Kerri laugh for the first time yesterday.  She has been smiling like crazy &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;lately&lt;/span&gt;.  Her whole face smiles; I love it.  She has also been cooing.  But the laughing is new.  She is still such a good baby.  Our lives have been pretty crazy these last few weeks, and she just goes along with the flow.  You can sit her in her &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;bouncey&lt;/span&gt; seat for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;hours&lt;/span&gt;, and she will just watch the whirlwind that is her family go by.  She loves to be held, but doesn't mind being put down.  She is awake more and more during the day and still puts in her full night of sleep.  I appreciate that God has blessed us with easy babies.  I appreciate that God has blessed us with healthy babies.  And I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;appreciate&lt;/span&gt; it that God has blessed me with a husband &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;who&lt;/span&gt; loves to see his daughters laugh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-1436115504993335754?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/1436115504993335754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=1436115504993335754' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/1436115504993335754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/1436115504993335754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2009/03/you-make-me-laugh.html' title='You make me laugh'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-785682587879986118</id><published>2009-02-15T18:13:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T18:18:30.354-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sleepovers</title><content type='html'>The girls are really into sleepovers lately.  They had Mimi over for one and plan to have the other three g-parents at some point.  They have had a few with the Smith girls, and they love it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, last night Maggie and I were talking about something and out of the blue she says she wants me to ask Mr. Gill (our retired neighbor) to have a sleepover at our house.  I double checked to make sure I heard her correctly.  Yes, she wanted Mr. Gill to come sleep over the next time Daddy was out of town.  Hmmm. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said, I don't know if Daddy would be too happy about that.  She then said it would be fine if Daddy was home.  Daddy could sleep in Maura's bed and Mr. Gill could sleep with Mommy in Daddy's spot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Interesting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-785682587879986118?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/785682587879986118/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=785682587879986118' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/785682587879986118'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/785682587879986118'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2009/02/sleepovers.html' title='Sleepovers'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-568814622120918722</id><published>2009-02-15T18:03:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T18:13:44.626-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Wow, we have a lot of stuff.</title><content type='html'>Well, we are getting ready to list our house.  Our goal is to put it on the market early March, really, the sooner the better.  Well, it has been &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;a lot&lt;/span&gt; of work.  We have taken over 6 suburban loads and two pickup truck loads of "stuff" to the new house and really, if you didn't know better, you wouldn't even notice.  I will say, the house is looking pretty spiffy, but in a "it-should-have-looked-like this-anyway" way.  The play room has been reduced to a kitchen, doll baby crib, a box a dress up and a few bins with toys.  Gone is the train table, the high chairs, the strollers, the doll houses, the stuffed animals, the toy vanity, the... well, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;a lot&lt;/span&gt; of stuff.  But you know what, the kids are surviving.  They are actually playing with the one house and my little ponies they have down there.  They have not even asked where all the other stuff is.  I am tempted to just get rid of it.  I tried to sneakily put the toy hair dresser thingy out on the curb.  Well we walked our friends out to their car, and Maura saw it.  She didn't get upset.  In fact, she didn't say &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;anything&lt;/span&gt;.  She just went over and started playing with it.  Then when she was done she came in.  I have to wonder what she was thinking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we plan to put the finishing &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;touches&lt;/span&gt; on the house next weekend and move out.  Hopefully get it listed the following week.  We are keeping our fingers crossed.  this market is not the best market to be selling your house, but when you have four kids (girls none the less) a 3 bedroom, 1 full bath house, just ain't gonna cut it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-568814622120918722?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/568814622120918722/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=568814622120918722' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/568814622120918722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/568814622120918722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2009/02/wow-we-have-lot-of-stuff.html' title='Wow, we have a lot of stuff.'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-938795555591636946</id><published>2009-02-15T18:00:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T18:02:52.769-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A smile a day</title><content type='html'>Keeps a mommy happy.  Our sweet little Kerri has taken to smiling.  She is a cutie when she smiles, as her whole face smiles.  It does not take much to make her smile either, just a shred of attention... something that is in high demand at our house.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-938795555591636946?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/938795555591636946/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=938795555591636946' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/938795555591636946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/938795555591636946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2009/02/smile-day.html' title='A smile a day'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-8181856677291338440</id><published>2009-01-27T15:57:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T16:06:21.015-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Let's hope it's a phase</title><content type='html'>As I just wrote about in my last post, K had a beautiful Christening this weekend. B, however was not as enamored by the whole thing as the rest of us. She spent most of the mass being handed from one family member to the next trying to entertain her. There was a very cute little girl (only child) about her age standing in front of her staring at her the whole time with sanck cup in hand. Of course B wanted to get down and push, I mean play, with her. Well, that would be great except B does not stay still. The one time I did put her down, she ended up playing ring around the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;rosie&lt;/span&gt; in the center aisle with Caitlin (that behavior might be looked down upon by some church goers). Well, as soon as I noticed only child girl walking toward B, I had to intervene; I knew &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;what&lt;/span&gt; was coming next... a nice big hello, nice to meet you shove. I was right. I got there in the nick of time. B was just able to lightly touch her, not completely knock her down. As I was lifting her up, B was screaming and reaching for the girl (probably wanted to pull her hair!). I am not quite sure how to stop this "phase" (let's hope it is just that). I can't help but think she is just acting out on the rest of the world what her sisters have done to her.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-8181856677291338440?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/8181856677291338440/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=8181856677291338440' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/8181856677291338440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/8181856677291338440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2009/01/as-i-just-wrote-about-in-my-last-post-k.html' title='Let&apos;s hope it&apos;s a phase'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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-4594549870968650868.post-2245871323098945427</id><published>2009-01-27T11:45:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T11:54:48.369-05:00</updated><title type='text'>God Bless Kerri</title><content type='html'>This past Sunday little Ker-Bear was christened.  She did great, as great as a 7 week old could.  She slept most of the mass, but did wake up when the priest poured the water on her head.  No tears though!  Thanks Father McKee for heating the water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sean and I both agree that this was our best Baptism yet.  Father did a terrific job including the whole family in the mass.  He started mass off by introducing all of us including each girl by name to the congregation.  He, of course, gave a special blessing to Sean, the father of four girls!  During the actual Baptism he included the girls again.  Maura even held the candle.  She was so proud and took her job very seriously.  Her "I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;do's&lt;/span&gt;" were loud and very honest.  All the kids, including Caitlin and Logan got to take the gifts up.  It was a very special day for a very special girl.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4594549870968650868-2245871323098945427?l=therewerefive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/feeds/2245871323098945427/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4594549870968650868&amp;postID=2245871323098945427' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/2245871323098945427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4594549870968650868/posts/default/2245871323098945427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therewerefive.blogspot.com/2009/01/god-bless-kerri.html' title='God Bless Kerri'/><author><name>Queen Mommy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08043142248369387936</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></feed>
