<?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:blogger='http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008' 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-6395427351902955499</id><updated>2024-11-01T02:39:40.181-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Life of an Army wife</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mdhohn.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6395427351902955499/posts/default?redirect=false'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mdhohn.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12422520861473269403</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXV0MT2W_m0/ST7pEm4-XHI/AAAAAAAAAAM/QJrqL4H4AJs/S220/May+2008+008.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>17</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6395427351902955499.post-7285380825095805679</id><published>2010-10-19T11:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-19T20:22:25.496-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What Were We Thinking!?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur=&quot;try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}&quot; href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj67wejKsVLs-hI30hkSbooH4vXbqf61yB3W9fuIG5wUQIj7sKgyqWtdVVn0tYTGcgRa8darQidwmOOIUbsuXMAqyDIYrOsWNaMXlSb_9dFE_gTVd2UmHG4MYsR2WWYpQLx_WDwbMxLbGg/s1600/IMG_1111.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj67wejKsVLs-hI30hkSbooH4vXbqf61yB3W9fuIG5wUQIj7sKgyqWtdVVn0tYTGcgRa8darQidwmOOIUbsuXMAqyDIYrOsWNaMXlSb_9dFE_gTVd2UmHG4MYsR2WWYpQLx_WDwbMxLbGg/s320/IMG_1111.jpg&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529832669459675874&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I had my son I thought he was a bit of a challenge. Then I had my daughter and she is beyond a bit of a challenge. I like to call her my warrior princess. She wants to be pretty and dance and sing but she is also all drama and fight! She IS the most stubborn child I have met.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So my husband and I know this about our kids and still we decided we wanted a third child. With number 3 on the way there are days, today for example, when I wonder what we were thinking because I can barely handle the 2 I have. But it is one thing for me to have these days and another when I am told &quot;I was surprised you decided to have another child after Ella.&quot; Someday I will probably look on this crazy time in life and laugh. Until then I pray for patience, endurance, and long naps!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mdhohn.blogspot.com/feeds/7285380825095805679/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mdhohn.blogspot.com/2010/10/what-were-we-thinking.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6395427351902955499/posts/default/7285380825095805679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6395427351902955499/posts/default/7285380825095805679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mdhohn.blogspot.com/2010/10/what-were-we-thinking.html' title='What Were We Thinking!?'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12422520861473269403</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXV0MT2W_m0/ST7pEm4-XHI/AAAAAAAAAAM/QJrqL4H4AJs/S220/May+2008+008.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj67wejKsVLs-hI30hkSbooH4vXbqf61yB3W9fuIG5wUQIj7sKgyqWtdVVn0tYTGcgRa8darQidwmOOIUbsuXMAqyDIYrOsWNaMXlSb_9dFE_gTVd2UmHG4MYsR2WWYpQLx_WDwbMxLbGg/s72-c/IMG_1111.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6395427351902955499.post-7751021543337170712</id><published>2010-02-24T06:36:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-24T06:44:42.319-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Kara would be proud</title><content type='html'>I have been just horrible about blogging since we moved. I guess I never dreamed how busy I would be and so quickly after moving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kara, this is for you because you would be so proud of YOUR little Ella. Yesterday I let Ella choose something from the desserts that were left after a womens&#39; function I helped with. Secretly I hoped she would choose something not so messy like a cookie. She pointed to this fudgy, sticky chocolate cake and said &quot;I want that.&quot; I figured it was the first thing she looked at so I tried to convince her to choose something else. She then pointed to another chocolate dessert saying &quot;I want chocolate.&quot; In the end I was able to convince her to take a brownie which was slightly less messy than the cake but to her satisfaction was still chocolate. Did we get our girls mixed up at some point?  =)</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mdhohn.blogspot.com/feeds/7751021543337170712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mdhohn.blogspot.com/2010/02/kara-would-be-proud.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6395427351902955499/posts/default/7751021543337170712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6395427351902955499/posts/default/7751021543337170712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mdhohn.blogspot.com/2010/02/kara-would-be-proud.html' title='Kara would be proud'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12422520861473269403</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXV0MT2W_m0/ST7pEm4-XHI/AAAAAAAAAAM/QJrqL4H4AJs/S220/May+2008+008.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6395427351902955499.post-5681803622072726234</id><published>2009-08-25T19:45:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-25T19:55:57.024-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rain</title><content type='html'>The other day it was raining. When I say raining I mean soak you to the bone in about 12 seconds kind of rain. My son stood at the back door and watched the rain. After a while he got an idea and asked me to put a bucket out to catch the rain for him. I reluctantly agreed, then proceeded to quickly open the door and stick my head and arm out just far enough to get the bucket into the falling rain. It probably took 3 seconds but that was long enough for the water to be flowing off the tip of my nose and down my arm.&lt;br /&gt;I went back to my dishes in the kitchen. I hear a door close and Micah announces that he &quot;ran with everything off and hardly got wet.&quot; I had no idea what that meant so I poked my head around the corner and saw Micah standing there buck naked (and hardly wet). He had run (fast) out the door and halfway &lt;span id=&quot;SPELLING_ERROR_0&quot; class=&quot;blsp-spelling-corrected&quot;&gt;across&lt;/span&gt; the yard to right an upside down bucket, then back again. All I thought was &quot;I&#39;m sure glad we have a fenced in yard.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;What goes through their heads? =)</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mdhohn.blogspot.com/feeds/5681803622072726234/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mdhohn.blogspot.com/2009/08/rain.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6395427351902955499/posts/default/5681803622072726234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6395427351902955499/posts/default/5681803622072726234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mdhohn.blogspot.com/2009/08/rain.html' title='Rain'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12422520861473269403</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXV0MT2W_m0/ST7pEm4-XHI/AAAAAAAAAAM/QJrqL4H4AJs/S220/May+2008+008.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6395427351902955499.post-3390387535093429345</id><published>2009-08-02T12:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-02T12:16:10.122-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I&#39;m back</title><content type='html'>After a couple of month hiatus to move and basically go crazy, I have decided it is time to get blogging!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you know my husband you will get a kick out of this one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our new house backs up to a bit of woods and if followed goes to a small pond. After a few days of looking at the woods from the backyard my husband, Jason, asked Micah is he would like to take a walk in the woods to the pond.&lt;br /&gt;&quot;A little scary&quot; Micah responded.&lt;br /&gt;&quot;I&#39;ll have my knife&quot; Dad said.&lt;br /&gt;Micah smiled and said &quot;Oooooo, I can cut some flowers for Mommy.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;Jason rolled his eyes. &quot;That&#39;s my son!&quot;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mdhohn.blogspot.com/feeds/3390387535093429345/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mdhohn.blogspot.com/2009/08/im-back.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6395427351902955499/posts/default/3390387535093429345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6395427351902955499/posts/default/3390387535093429345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mdhohn.blogspot.com/2009/08/im-back.html' title='I&#39;m back'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12422520861473269403</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXV0MT2W_m0/ST7pEm4-XHI/AAAAAAAAAAM/QJrqL4H4AJs/S220/May+2008+008.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6395427351902955499.post-8562699813067779485</id><published>2009-06-05T21:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-05T22:13:24.363-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Feeding Giraffes</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPe0i0rOULoXzSzFru2MgXeiIY6lCAZ2seweNszS1TLDhdYtIVRxO_FbiuTCTzoIvD-r0l-5TVOWMRy9hgXNMvF8xzv8a9gnrnLOA_BKTTpsrYFgnyYjq01PRMcVqlo57nOzIKOPIGYeY/s1600-h/P5300089.JPG&quot;&gt;&lt;img id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344078137572670002&quot; style=&quot;FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPe0i0rOULoXzSzFru2MgXeiIY6lCAZ2seweNszS1TLDhdYtIVRxO_FbiuTCTzoIvD-r0l-5TVOWMRy9hgXNMvF8xzv8a9gnrnLOA_BKTTpsrYFgnyYjq01PRMcVqlo57nOzIKOPIGYeY/s320/P5300089.JPG&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;With Jason being gone again, preparing for a vacation, trying to sell houses and getting ready to move the family all the way across the country I&#39;ve had little time to share any new stories. I will likely not have time over the next few weeks either. Before the utter craziness begins here&#39;s a memorable moment we recently had. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Micah, Ella and I went to the zoo last week. We&#39;ve had a membership these last couple of years but we have never had a chance to feed the giraffes until this particular trip. Because I love Giraffes I was super excited and thought it was the best part of the day!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;On the drive home from the zoo I asked Micah what he thought of feeding the giraffes. He very matter of factly said &quot;I liked it but it was slobbery like Ella&#39;s kisses.&quot; I thought it was a very accurate description!&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mdhohn.blogspot.com/feeds/8562699813067779485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mdhohn.blogspot.com/2009/06/feeding-giraffes.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6395427351902955499/posts/default/8562699813067779485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6395427351902955499/posts/default/8562699813067779485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mdhohn.blogspot.com/2009/06/feeding-giraffes.html' title='Feeding Giraffes'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12422520861473269403</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXV0MT2W_m0/ST7pEm4-XHI/AAAAAAAAAAM/QJrqL4H4AJs/S220/May+2008+008.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPe0i0rOULoXzSzFru2MgXeiIY6lCAZ2seweNszS1TLDhdYtIVRxO_FbiuTCTzoIvD-r0l-5TVOWMRy9hgXNMvF8xzv8a9gnrnLOA_BKTTpsrYFgnyYjq01PRMcVqlo57nOzIKOPIGYeY/s72-c/P5300089.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6395427351902955499.post-3516666887696125381</id><published>2009-04-25T17:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-25T17:40:06.815-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Proud mama!</title><content type='html'>Today Jason and I took the kids to the Arizona Science Center. It was a free weekend which was nice except for the fact that it was beyond packed and kids were pretty much running the place!  Even so we had a great time.&lt;br /&gt;Micah thought it was &quot;cool&quot; that he was able to try all kinds of interactive things. He even got to climb the 30 foot climbing wall. He has only ever climbed the little climbing walls at the park (10 feet tops), so this was a pretty big deal for a 4 year old. He watched a 9 or 10 year old girl climb before him. She did well going up but struggled coming down. Micah on the other hand must have learned from her challenges. He went up that wall faster than I have ever seen a kid go and he figured out right away how to straighten out his legs and walk down the wall. He was up and down in a few short minutes. I was &lt;span class=&quot;blsp-spelling-error&quot; id=&quot;SPELLING_ERROR_0&quot;&gt;soooo&lt;/span&gt; proud of him!  &lt;span class=&quot;blsp-spelling-corrected&quot; id=&quot;SPELLING_ERROR_1&quot;&gt;Unfortunately&lt;/span&gt; we forgot the camera. . . I hope the picture I took on my phone turns out!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mdhohn.blogspot.com/feeds/3516666887696125381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mdhohn.blogspot.com/2009/04/proud-mama.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6395427351902955499/posts/default/3516666887696125381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6395427351902955499/posts/default/3516666887696125381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mdhohn.blogspot.com/2009/04/proud-mama.html' title='Proud mama!'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12422520861473269403</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXV0MT2W_m0/ST7pEm4-XHI/AAAAAAAAAAM/QJrqL4H4AJs/S220/May+2008+008.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6395427351902955499.post-7583183957832908509</id><published>2009-04-22T19:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-22T20:02:45.952-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Moving dilemas</title><content type='html'>We are going to be moving in a few months. In order to &quot;prepare&quot; my son for the change I have been talking a lot about moving, the fun of making new friends, getting a new room, and (because this is super important to a 4 year old) finding new parks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We currently live in the desert and even though my son was born somewhere else, this is all he knows. We will be moving to North Carolina where the air is sticky and everything is green and beautiful. One thing that came up in our moving conversations is our yard, what we have now (rocks) and what we will have (grass). Micah is not really a big fan of grass. When I said that our yard would not have rocks he looked sad at first. Then he perked up and said that we would have to bring a lot of our rocks with us. The immediately stirred up images of our brand new mini van loaded down with dusty quarter inch rock and I was about to say &quot;absolutely not&quot; when my son went on with his plan. &quot;We need to get a zip top bag, the big one mom (this means 1 gallon), fill it with rocks, and put it in my backpack to bring with us.&quot; I smiled at this and said &quot;absolutely.&quot; We are now both happy. My son gets to take &quot;his rocks&quot; to NC and I get to see him happy and keep my mini van clean!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mdhohn.blogspot.com/feeds/7583183957832908509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mdhohn.blogspot.com/2009/04/moving-dilemas.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6395427351902955499/posts/default/7583183957832908509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6395427351902955499/posts/default/7583183957832908509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mdhohn.blogspot.com/2009/04/moving-dilemas.html' title='Moving dilemas'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12422520861473269403</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXV0MT2W_m0/ST7pEm4-XHI/AAAAAAAAAAM/QJrqL4H4AJs/S220/May+2008+008.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6395427351902955499.post-4860221003397767331</id><published>2009-04-11T22:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T22:30:02.398-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Easter</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur=&quot;try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}&quot; href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiObpFL3w-ZpMMPNkhRHVU5u0BSQu9hkmISV5bhyEXwhb1yWCuPBdJ7Z8dpa2uR5ffwwFEQv3zZUHGk7jK-6hgBpIohpfyCBIr_u09S57lqZ02qAWI_tGZE4QuExZYAprhXoszwccQOz1Q/s1600-h/P4060041.JPG&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiObpFL3w-ZpMMPNkhRHVU5u0BSQu9hkmISV5bhyEXwhb1yWCuPBdJ7Z8dpa2uR5ffwwFEQv3zZUHGk7jK-6hgBpIohpfyCBIr_u09S57lqZ02qAWI_tGZE4QuExZYAprhXoszwccQOz1Q/s200/P4060041.JPG&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323672615182684946&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight I told Micah that in the morning he had to take a bath and wear some nice clothes because it is Easter. He said okay then asked me what color his mohawk should be!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Easter everyone!  He has risen!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mdhohn.blogspot.com/feeds/4860221003397767331/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mdhohn.blogspot.com/2009/04/easter.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6395427351902955499/posts/default/4860221003397767331'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6395427351902955499/posts/default/4860221003397767331'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mdhohn.blogspot.com/2009/04/easter.html' title='Easter'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12422520861473269403</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXV0MT2W_m0/ST7pEm4-XHI/AAAAAAAAAAM/QJrqL4H4AJs/S220/May+2008+008.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiObpFL3w-ZpMMPNkhRHVU5u0BSQu9hkmISV5bhyEXwhb1yWCuPBdJ7Z8dpa2uR5ffwwFEQv3zZUHGk7jK-6hgBpIohpfyCBIr_u09S57lqZ02qAWI_tGZE4QuExZYAprhXoszwccQOz1Q/s72-c/P4060041.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6395427351902955499.post-9213240295581089374</id><published>2009-04-09T10:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-09T10:47:36.481-07:00</updated><title type='text'>When in trouble. . .</title><content type='html'>My daughter was doing something she shouldn&#39;t and my son, Micah, saw it. He loudly yelled &quot;Ella Allen!&quot; I couldn&#39;t contain my laughter as I explained to him that Allen was not what you say when someone is getting in trouble, it is his (Micah&#39;s) middle name. I guess I need to use his middle name more than just when scolding him!  Too funny though!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mdhohn.blogspot.com/feeds/9213240295581089374/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mdhohn.blogspot.com/2009/04/when-in-trouble.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6395427351902955499/posts/default/9213240295581089374'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6395427351902955499/posts/default/9213240295581089374'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mdhohn.blogspot.com/2009/04/when-in-trouble.html' title='When in trouble. . .'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12422520861473269403</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXV0MT2W_m0/ST7pEm4-XHI/AAAAAAAAAAM/QJrqL4H4AJs/S220/May+2008+008.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6395427351902955499.post-5026757713028613481</id><published>2009-03-25T14:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-25T14:33:10.607-07:00</updated><title type='text'>bananas</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6Hzw13F6aCuh0KGfQcdaz8MdO_n-7FJNG0KidPQ4_JvzGvDNtsxtI_sDHCXJMTflYttyTgTXMFNUGBF88VAWQQaTIV944gU1hoshwN9w7cCoGUM39x6HdzdMV2yNy7E2WYQk9-EW_Z10/s1600-h/Feb+27-2816.JPG&quot;&gt;&lt;img id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317239278666457378&quot; style=&quot;FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6Hzw13F6aCuh0KGfQcdaz8MdO_n-7FJNG0KidPQ4_JvzGvDNtsxtI_sDHCXJMTflYttyTgTXMFNUGBF88VAWQQaTIV944gU1hoshwN9w7cCoGUM39x6HdzdMV2yNy7E2WYQk9-EW_Z10/s320/Feb+27-2816.JPG&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I haven&#39;t had much time to blog, and still don&#39;t, but I had to share this one. Ella, my 17 month old, loves bananas. They are probably her favorite food. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yesterday she woke up cranky. She cried and tantrumed from the moment I went into her room to get her out of her crib. She screamed, writhed and kicked me all the while I changed her diaper and her clothes. She loves to eat so I offered her breakfast. Usually this would stop the crying, but not this time. So I put her in her high chair anyway and asked her if she wanted a banana. The crying imediately stopped, she smiled and yelled &quot;nana nana!&quot; Since we have been working on being polite I asked her &quot;what do you say?&quot; So excited about the prospect of eating the banana she replied with &quot;please, there you go, thank you, welcome&quot;. She was wasting no time!&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mdhohn.blogspot.com/feeds/5026757713028613481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mdhohn.blogspot.com/2009/03/bananas.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6395427351902955499/posts/default/5026757713028613481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6395427351902955499/posts/default/5026757713028613481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mdhohn.blogspot.com/2009/03/bananas.html' title='bananas'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12422520861473269403</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXV0MT2W_m0/ST7pEm4-XHI/AAAAAAAAAAM/QJrqL4H4AJs/S220/May+2008+008.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6Hzw13F6aCuh0KGfQcdaz8MdO_n-7FJNG0KidPQ4_JvzGvDNtsxtI_sDHCXJMTflYttyTgTXMFNUGBF88VAWQQaTIV944gU1hoshwN9w7cCoGUM39x6HdzdMV2yNy7E2WYQk9-EW_Z10/s72-c/Feb+27-2816.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6395427351902955499.post-4075398937187132153</id><published>2009-03-08T22:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-08T22:48:03.095-07:00</updated><title type='text'>She loves her brother!</title><content type='html'>My 4 year old went to his first sleepover last night (aside from Nana&#39;s). He was thrilled and now that it is over he told me that he hopes it is 2 days next time. He didn&#39;t miss me at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was thrilled to have a little Mommy and Ella time, which almost never happens. Yesterday we had a wonderful time doing what girls do best, we went to the mall. Not that we spent any money but we did have a wonderful time walking, talking and browsing. After that nice time together yesterday I thought this morning would be equally as nice. I was wrong. From the moment Ella woke she asked about her brother. &quot;Brother? Brother?&quot; she would repeat as she looked around for him. I believe she thinks &quot;brother&quot; is his name. When we got in the car to go to church she looked over at Micah&#39;s car seat and asked again about her brother. Without the comfort of her brother she moved on to her other comfort, her &lt;span class=&quot;blsp-spelling-error&quot; id=&quot;SPELLING_ERROR_0&quot;&gt;blankie&lt;/span&gt;, which was in the washing machine &lt;span class=&quot;blsp-spelling-corrected&quot; id=&quot;SPELLING_ERROR_1&quot;&gt;because&lt;/span&gt; of a wet bed that morning. With only the one &lt;span class=&quot;blsp-spelling-error&quot; id=&quot;SPELLING_ERROR_2&quot;&gt;blankie&lt;/span&gt; and one brother, I couldn&#39;t &lt;span class=&quot;blsp-spelling-corrected&quot; id=&quot;SPELLING_ERROR_3&quot;&gt;appease&lt;/span&gt; her. So I had to endure a 25 minute drive with a screaming 17 month old. When we arrived at church and her brother walked in the door, the tantrum stopped and all was well. She sure loves her brother, making me much more &lt;span class=&quot;blsp-spelling-corrected&quot; id=&quot;SPELLING_ERROR_4&quot;&gt;hesitant&lt;/span&gt; to allow future sleepovers.  This however would start a whole other tantrum and I&#39;m not sure which is worse!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mdhohn.blogspot.com/feeds/4075398937187132153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mdhohn.blogspot.com/2009/03/she-loves-her-brother.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6395427351902955499/posts/default/4075398937187132153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6395427351902955499/posts/default/4075398937187132153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mdhohn.blogspot.com/2009/03/she-loves-her-brother.html' title='She loves her brother!'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12422520861473269403</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXV0MT2W_m0/ST7pEm4-XHI/AAAAAAAAAAM/QJrqL4H4AJs/S220/May+2008+008.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6395427351902955499.post-2275670271670007256</id><published>2009-03-04T20:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-04T20:08:01.186-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Missing Daddy</title><content type='html'>Yesterday Micah stuck out his bottom lip, his eyes got all glassy and he told me he missed Daddy. I asked him why he missed him and he said he missed playing with him. Mommy is the &quot;caregiver&quot; and Daddy is the &quot;fun one.&quot; I&#39;m trying to carve out time to spend playing specifically with him but it is difficult to fit into the day when there is a 1 year old running around. We did however discover that Windows Live Messenger, that we use to web cam everyday, has a games section. Micah now loves being able to play tic &lt;span class=&quot;blsp-spelling-error&quot; id=&quot;SPELLING_ERROR_0&quot;&gt;tac&lt;/span&gt; toe, &lt;span class=&quot;blsp-spelling-error&quot; id=&quot;SPELLING_ERROR_1&quot;&gt;Uno&lt;/span&gt; and others on the computer with Daddy. Today they spent half an hour drawing pictures of dinosaurs, birds, and each other on Messenger. Isn&#39;t modern technology great (at least today)!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mdhohn.blogspot.com/feeds/2275670271670007256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mdhohn.blogspot.com/2009/03/missing-daddy.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6395427351902955499/posts/default/2275670271670007256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6395427351902955499/posts/default/2275670271670007256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mdhohn.blogspot.com/2009/03/missing-daddy.html' title='Missing Daddy'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12422520861473269403</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXV0MT2W_m0/ST7pEm4-XHI/AAAAAAAAAAM/QJrqL4H4AJs/S220/May+2008+008.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6395427351902955499.post-840629931235022112</id><published>2009-02-28T14:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-28T14:21:50.956-08:00</updated><title type='text'>One of those days</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class=&quot;blsp-spelling-corrected&quot; id=&quot;SPELLING_ERROR_0&quot;&gt;OK&lt;/span&gt;, Jason has been gone less than 2 weeks now and I&#39;m already having those days. Yesterday was the kind of day where the kids do everything they are told not to and nothing they are told to do. The kind of day when my toddler pulls at my pants screaming as if the world is about to end. . . did I mention this caused me to trip over her repeatedly thus increasing the sound &lt;span class=&quot;blsp-spelling-corrected&quot; id=&quot;SPELLING_ERROR_1&quot;&gt;decibel&lt;/span&gt;. It was just one of those days when I want to scream and yell and throw a temper tantrum of my own. A day that I just don&#39;t know how I&#39;m going to make it one more minute without my husband&#39;s help. But somehow God shows his infinite mercy (and strength, cause Lord knows I don&#39;t have any left) and I make it to the next minute and the next hour and finally the next day. I thank God yesterday is passed and today is not one of those days!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mdhohn.blogspot.com/feeds/840629931235022112/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mdhohn.blogspot.com/2009/02/one-of-those-days.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6395427351902955499/posts/default/840629931235022112'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6395427351902955499/posts/default/840629931235022112'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mdhohn.blogspot.com/2009/02/one-of-those-days.html' title='One of those days'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12422520861473269403</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXV0MT2W_m0/ST7pEm4-XHI/AAAAAAAAAAM/QJrqL4H4AJs/S220/May+2008+008.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6395427351902955499.post-4187733014291570643</id><published>2009-02-23T22:28:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-23T22:38:34.161-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Why go to the park?</title><content type='html'>Why do we go to the park? I took my kids to the park today. My four year old dug in the sand. . . we have plenty of that at home. My 16 month old spent almost the entire time climbing in and out and in and out of the stroller, which I would be happy to park in the backyard so she could do it at home. I think I went down the slide more times than they did! So why is it that the kids get silly grins on their faces when I mention the park and they can barely contain their &lt;span class=&quot;blsp-spelling-corrected&quot; id=&quot;SPELLING_ERROR_0&quot;&gt;enthusiasm&lt;/span&gt;, bouncing in the stroller as they see it up ahead. I don&#39;t understand it. Even so, just to make them smile and see them happy, I continue to put on clean clothes and a little lipstick, pack the kids &lt;span class=&quot;blsp-spelling-corrected&quot; id=&quot;SPELLING_ERROR_1&quot;&gt;water bottles&lt;/span&gt; and goldfish and make the trek to the park. Somehow it&#39;s worth it!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mdhohn.blogspot.com/feeds/4187733014291570643/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mdhohn.blogspot.com/2009/02/why-go-to-park.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6395427351902955499/posts/default/4187733014291570643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6395427351902955499/posts/default/4187733014291570643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mdhohn.blogspot.com/2009/02/why-go-to-park.html' title='Why go to the park?'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12422520861473269403</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXV0MT2W_m0/ST7pEm4-XHI/AAAAAAAAAAM/QJrqL4H4AJs/S220/May+2008+008.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6395427351902955499.post-3562977091462814425</id><published>2009-02-17T23:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-17T23:04:37.626-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The newest American Idol fan</title><content type='html'>Today Ella discovered American Idol. I caught her sitting on my stepper, which makes the perfect size seat for a 16 month old, watching AI and singing along with one of the guys. I think she&#39;s picked her favorite already! If I only had a video camera. . . .</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mdhohn.blogspot.com/feeds/3562977091462814425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mdhohn.blogspot.com/2009/02/newest-american-idol-fan.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6395427351902955499/posts/default/3562977091462814425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6395427351902955499/posts/default/3562977091462814425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mdhohn.blogspot.com/2009/02/newest-american-idol-fan.html' title='The newest American Idol fan'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12422520861473269403</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXV0MT2W_m0/ST7pEm4-XHI/AAAAAAAAAAM/QJrqL4H4AJs/S220/May+2008+008.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6395427351902955499.post-6639033382982769158</id><published>2009-02-15T07:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T07:54:27.421-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Leaving</title><content type='html'>Tomorrow Jason leaves for another short (47 days) training class. He will be all the way &lt;span class=&quot;blsp-spelling-corrected&quot; id=&quot;SPELLING_ERROR_0&quot;&gt;across&lt;/span&gt; the country and my son is having a hard time with it. He says he likes to talk to daddy when he is here, not on the phone.  Apparently the web-cam doesn&#39;t count either! Micah is pretty sad. I think this will be the hardest separation to date.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mdhohn.blogspot.com/feeds/6639033382982769158/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mdhohn.blogspot.com/2009/02/leaving.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6395427351902955499/posts/default/6639033382982769158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6395427351902955499/posts/default/6639033382982769158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mdhohn.blogspot.com/2009/02/leaving.html' title='Leaving'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12422520861473269403</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXV0MT2W_m0/ST7pEm4-XHI/AAAAAAAAAAM/QJrqL4H4AJs/S220/May+2008+008.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6395427351902955499.post-7872646853813196249</id><published>2009-01-29T12:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-29T12:57:48.383-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Flying Cheerios</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Today my 15 month old daughter found a way to launch Cheerios from the back see to the front dash. I was driving and couldn&#39;t look back but I would like to know how she was doing it. Did I mention every Cheerio came with an &quot;uh oh&quot;!&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mdhohn.blogspot.com/feeds/7872646853813196249/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mdhohn.blogspot.com/2009/01/flying-cheerios.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6395427351902955499/posts/default/7872646853813196249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6395427351902955499/posts/default/7872646853813196249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mdhohn.blogspot.com/2009/01/flying-cheerios.html' title='Flying Cheerios'/><author><name>mel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12422520861473269403</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXV0MT2W_m0/ST7pEm4-XHI/AAAAAAAAAAM/QJrqL4H4AJs/S220/May+2008+008.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>