<?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-4615051818819619181</id><updated>2012-01-27T17:41:38.845-08:00</updated><category term='cooking'/><category term='garbage'/><category term='jokes'/><category term='Miami Hurricanes'/><category term='Presidents Day'/><category term='teeth'/><category term='introduction'/><category term='Tampa Bay Rays'/><category term='trust'/><category term='PS3'/><category term='fish'/><category term='moon'/><category term='toenail'/><category term='movies'/><category term='make believe'/><category term='Poppy'/><category term='mating'/><category term='Extreme Home Makeover'/><category term='puppies'/><category term='marriage'/><category term='two wheels'/><category term='Miata'/><category term='Gabeisms'/><category term='M.A.S.'/><category term='bike'/><category term='smile'/><category term='job'/><category term='galloping'/><category term='Zoe'/><category term='Bible story'/><category term='mess'/><category term='make up'/><category term='baking'/><category term='cut'/><category term='IHOP'/><category term='bread'/><category term='brownies'/><category term='head'/><category term='mischief. Gabeism'/><category term='Gabe'/><category term='squirrels'/><category term='weddings'/><category term='car'/><category term='eyes'/><category term='liar'/><category term='crazy old mother'/><category term='racism'/><category term='wrestling'/><category term='eye brow'/><category term='breakfast'/><category term='date night'/><category term='God'/><category term='dogs'/><category term='cultures'/><category term='smite'/><category term='parable'/><category term='party'/><category term='scalloping'/><category term='Shiloh'/><category term='trampoline'/><category term='shoe'/><category term='school'/><category term='banana'/><category term='manners'/><category term='knock knock'/><category term='Pop tarts'/><category term='face'/><category term='lost sheep'/><category term='Disney World'/><category term='tongue'/><category term='burqas'/><category term='G.I. Joe'/><category term='barack obama'/><category term='Guns'/><category term='bologna'/><category term='playground'/><category term='ninja'/><category term='hot lava'/><category term='Kindergarten'/><category term='rings'/><category term='Satan'/><category term='date book'/><category term='bathroom floor'/><category term='president'/><category term='merg'/><category term='Call of Duty'/><category term='gentleman'/><category term='questions'/><category term='Mom'/><category term='Gabriel'/><title type='text'>Gabe-isms</title><subtitle type='html'>The antics of a quirky, adorable, rambunctious 6 year old.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Windy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00011581443222895666</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/TEY_2eY9W7I/AAAAAAAAAVA/ytxaTcIwr5o/S220/37468_416676852725_169978762725_4552868_4422020_n.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>47</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4615051818819619181.post-3665392901713197645</id><published>2011-09-02T07:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-02T08:01:47.061-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='make up'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gabriel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='car'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gabeisms'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='face'/><title type='text'>Make Up</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JXa_b7r7Wp0/TmDvl-835CI/AAAAAAAAAd8/2RPZXln3HBA/s1600/woman-applying-makeup-in-car.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JXa_b7r7Wp0/TmDvl-835CI/AAAAAAAAAd8/2RPZXln3HBA/s400/woman-applying-makeup-in-car.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5647777368555119650" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This morning while stopped at a red light on the way to school, I was rubbing foundation into my face when this question was asked:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Gabriel:  "Why do you put make up on, Mom?  So your face looks normal?" &lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4615051818819619181-3665392901713197645?l=gabeisms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/feeds/3665392901713197645/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2011/09/make-up.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/3665392901713197645'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/3665392901713197645'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2011/09/make-up.html' title='Make Up'/><author><name>Windy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00011581443222895666</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/TEY_2eY9W7I/AAAAAAAAAVA/ytxaTcIwr5o/S220/37468_416676852725_169978762725_4552868_4422020_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JXa_b7r7Wp0/TmDvl-835CI/AAAAAAAAAd8/2RPZXln3HBA/s72-c/woman-applying-makeup-in-car.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4615051818819619181.post-2648530804579527879</id><published>2011-06-28T10:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-28T10:14:05.921-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='trust'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='God'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='questions'/><title type='text'>In God We Trust</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8sFEW7ewVhI/TgoLvAxfLVI/AAAAAAAAAbo/9PCXpf9R6PY/s1600/polls_1in_god_we_trust_1510_793193_poll_xlarge.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 350px; height: 226px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8sFEW7ewVhI/TgoLvAxfLVI/AAAAAAAAAbo/9PCXpf9R6PY/s400/polls_1in_god_we_trust_1510_793193_poll_xlarge.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5623319987014806866" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today Gabe was looking at a $20 bill in the back seat that I let him hold to pay for basketball camp.  As he started at it intently, he asked me....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Why does it say 'In God We Trust', Mom?" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Me:&lt;/b&gt; "Well, our country was founded on God's principals in the Bible, and America is a place where we put our faith in God to protect and guide our country." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Gabe:&lt;/b&gt; "Well... how come there are so many people in America who don't trust in God?" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Great conversation that followed about free will, freedom, putting our faith in things other than God and what happens when we do that.    Love that my little guy is becoming quite the thinker.  :)    Love his questions, even when they're tough. &lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4615051818819619181-2648530804579527879?l=gabeisms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/feeds/2648530804579527879/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2011/06/in-god-we-trust.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/2648530804579527879'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/2648530804579527879'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2011/06/in-god-we-trust.html' title='In God We Trust'/><author><name>Windy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00011581443222895666</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/TEY_2eY9W7I/AAAAAAAAAVA/ytxaTcIwr5o/S220/37468_416676852725_169978762725_4552868_4422020_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8sFEW7ewVhI/TgoLvAxfLVI/AAAAAAAAAbo/9PCXpf9R6PY/s72-c/polls_1in_god_we_trust_1510_793193_poll_xlarge.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4615051818819619181.post-2806566643096647238</id><published>2011-05-13T18:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-13T18:05:23.413-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gabeisms'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='jokes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='banana'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='knock knock'/><title type='text'>Knock Knock!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-87o4Dmgi0RY/Tc3VKFDOsdI/AAAAAAAAAbE/epY04oLFB30/s1600/images.jpeg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 140px; height: 140px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-87o4Dmgi0RY/Tc3VKFDOsdI/AAAAAAAAAbE/epY04oLFB30/s400/images.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5606371480277266898" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Gabe:&lt;/b&gt;  "Knock Knock!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;J&lt;b&gt;ustin:&lt;/b&gt; "Who's there?" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Gabe:&lt;/b&gt; "Banana!" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Justin:&lt;/b&gt; "Banana who?" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Gabe:&lt;/b&gt; "Orange you glad I didn't say banana?" &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/4615051818819619181-2806566643096647238?l=gabeisms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/feeds/2806566643096647238/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2011/05/knock-knock.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/2806566643096647238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/2806566643096647238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2011/05/knock-knock.html' title='Knock Knock!'/><author><name>Windy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00011581443222895666</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/TEY_2eY9W7I/AAAAAAAAAVA/ytxaTcIwr5o/S220/37468_416676852725_169978762725_4552868_4422020_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-87o4Dmgi0RY/Tc3VKFDOsdI/AAAAAAAAAbE/epY04oLFB30/s72-c/images.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4615051818819619181.post-1133400703315699574</id><published>2011-05-13T16:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-13T16:47:22.598-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='movies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='puppies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gabeisms'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Shiloh'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dogs'/><title type='text'>Shiloh</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-O4TE-DDhDa8/Tc3CtsyHIGI/AAAAAAAAAa8/h2V8vPNNTgQ/s1600/movie_shiloh2.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 321px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-O4TE-DDhDa8/Tc3CtsyHIGI/AAAAAAAAAa8/h2V8vPNNTgQ/s400/movie_shiloh2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5606351201517379682" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;b&gt;Gabe:&lt;/b&gt;  "Mom, can we watch Shiloh?  It has a lot of good lessons in it!"  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Me:&lt;/b&gt;  "Like what?"  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Gabe:&lt;/b&gt; "Don't kick puppies."  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4615051818819619181-1133400703315699574?l=gabeisms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/feeds/1133400703315699574/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2011/05/shiloh.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/1133400703315699574'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/1133400703315699574'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2011/05/shiloh.html' title='Shiloh'/><author><name>Windy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00011581443222895666</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/TEY_2eY9W7I/AAAAAAAAAVA/ytxaTcIwr5o/S220/37468_416676852725_169978762725_4552868_4422020_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-O4TE-DDhDa8/Tc3CtsyHIGI/AAAAAAAAAa8/h2V8vPNNTgQ/s72-c/movie_shiloh2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4615051818819619181.post-482655859545978255</id><published>2011-03-09T20:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-09T20:16:40.584-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Miata'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='God'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='moon'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gabe'/><title type='text'>Deep Thoughts: by Gabe</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-13X1qmdfdBE/TXhQPw3w_2I/AAAAAAAAAY4/Xg36u_bi89E/s1600/full_moon1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-13X1qmdfdBE/TXhQPw3w_2I/AAAAAAAAAY4/Xg36u_bi89E/s400/full_moon1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5582299969872789346" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Driving home from church tonight in the Miata with the top down; Gabe looks up at the sky and thoughtfully says,    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;"The moon is a crescent tonight.  I think that the crescent moons are God's fingernails, and the full moons are his head."&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&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/4615051818819619181-482655859545978255?l=gabeisms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/feeds/482655859545978255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2011/03/deep-thoughts-by-gabe.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/482655859545978255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/482655859545978255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2011/03/deep-thoughts-by-gabe.html' title='Deep Thoughts: by Gabe'/><author><name>Windy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00011581443222895666</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/TEY_2eY9W7I/AAAAAAAAAVA/ytxaTcIwr5o/S220/37468_416676852725_169978762725_4552868_4422020_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-13X1qmdfdBE/TXhQPw3w_2I/AAAAAAAAAY4/Xg36u_bi89E/s72-c/full_moon1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4615051818819619181.post-231213125186400979</id><published>2011-01-21T05:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-21T05:28:17.217-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wrestling'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='squirrels'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gabe'/><title type='text'>W.W.E. Squirrels</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/TTmJu3JM2wI/AAAAAAAAAYI/cVZDl9TniVw/s1600/437684463_7e1a0e6e23_o.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/TTmJu3JM2wI/AAAAAAAAAYI/cVZDl9TniVw/s400/437684463_7e1a0e6e23_o.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564630252762487554" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Gabe:&lt;/b&gt;  "Mom!  Look!  Those squirrels are wrestling!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Me:&lt;/b&gt;  "Whoa, they must be REALLY mad at each other."  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Phew.   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&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/4615051818819619181-231213125186400979?l=gabeisms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/feeds/231213125186400979/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2011/01/wwe-squirrels.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/231213125186400979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/231213125186400979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2011/01/wwe-squirrels.html' title='W.W.E. Squirrels'/><author><name>Windy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00011581443222895666</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/TEY_2eY9W7I/AAAAAAAAAVA/ytxaTcIwr5o/S220/37468_416676852725_169978762725_4552868_4422020_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/TTmJu3JM2wI/AAAAAAAAAYI/cVZDl9TniVw/s72-c/437684463_7e1a0e6e23_o.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4615051818819619181.post-3849499365773950722</id><published>2010-10-25T17:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-25T18:07:11.946-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gabriel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Extreme Home Makeover'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Disney World'/><title type='text'>Rationale</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/TMYpjFsj1iI/AAAAAAAAAWs/l_9eXG3En5Y/s1600/ty_pennington.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 220px; height: 260px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/TMYpjFsj1iI/AAAAAAAAAWs/l_9eXG3En5Y/s400/ty_pennington.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532154875072468514" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love the reasoning (or lack there of) in five-year-olds.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On a recent drive home, Gabriel randomly asked me, &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Hey Mom, do you think those people could come knock our house down so we could go on a trip to Disney World?"  &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/4615051818819619181-3849499365773950722?l=gabeisms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/feeds/3849499365773950722/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2010/10/rationale.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/3849499365773950722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/3849499365773950722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2010/10/rationale.html' title='Rationale'/><author><name>Windy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00011581443222895666</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/TEY_2eY9W7I/AAAAAAAAAVA/ytxaTcIwr5o/S220/37468_416676852725_169978762725_4552868_4422020_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/TMYpjFsj1iI/AAAAAAAAAWs/l_9eXG3En5Y/s72-c/ty_pennington.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4615051818819619181.post-1468584586585815891</id><published>2010-09-08T10:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-08T10:17:06.248-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='scalloping'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='trampoline'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='galloping'/><title type='text'>Scalloping?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/TIfE6lzCRCI/AAAAAAAAAWI/9jfsyn6fcJE/s1600/recreational_scalloping.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 255px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/TIfE6lzCRCI/AAAAAAAAAWI/9jfsyn6fcJE/s400/recreational_scalloping.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514592779596088354" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;We were given a great big trampoline for our back yard by a dear friend last week.  The kids love it!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Gabriel:   "Mom, LOOK! I'm scalloping!!!"  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;(He totally meant galloping)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&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/4615051818819619181-1468584586585815891?l=gabeisms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/feeds/1468584586585815891/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2010/09/scalloping.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/1468584586585815891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/1468584586585815891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2010/09/scalloping.html' title='Scalloping?'/><author><name>Windy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00011581443222895666</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/TEY_2eY9W7I/AAAAAAAAAVA/ytxaTcIwr5o/S220/37468_416676852725_169978762725_4552868_4422020_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/TIfE6lzCRCI/AAAAAAAAAWI/9jfsyn6fcJE/s72-c/recreational_scalloping.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4615051818819619181.post-5080718154364252369</id><published>2010-08-03T15:21:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-09T06:01:10.267-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kindergarten'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gabeisms'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><title type='text'>Big Man on Campus</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/TFiWbl-NkEI/AAAAAAAAAVw/duHreTLo7BQ/s1600/July+2010+-+Grandkids+and+Joesph+009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/TFiWbl-NkEI/AAAAAAAAAVw/duHreTLo7BQ/s400/July+2010+-+Grandkids+and+Joesph+009.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501312345626742850" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't even believe you are starting Kindergarten next week, buddy.&lt;div&gt;  &lt;div&gt;You are so smart.  And funny.  And stubborn.  And funny.  And inquisitive. And funny.  And caring.  And naughty.  And did I mention funny?   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Your new teacher at the wonderful private school you will be attending tested you yesterday and came back into the interview all wide eyed and deer in headlights looking, like most educators are after spending a few minutes with you. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Ummm he's exceptional.  Like, of all the kids I've tested this summer... he's the best."  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Whoa,  did she really go there?  Are you supposed to even say that out loud?  I couldn't help but flashback to when you were 9 months old and we were at Nancy Bordon's house (she's an assistant principal) and you picked up a TIME magazine and she remarked about you being a genius baby.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I can't wait to see how you grow and develop this year Gabe!  You've begun reading and writing, and now we get to partner with your caring teachers to keep developing your mind and your heart.  I pray that you keep your curious little spirit and we can be patient with you to help you learn the answers.   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love you Gabers.   &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/4615051818819619181-5080718154364252369?l=gabeisms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/feeds/5080718154364252369/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2010/08/big-man-on-campus.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/5080718154364252369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/5080718154364252369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2010/08/big-man-on-campus.html' title='Big Man on Campus'/><author><name>Windy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00011581443222895666</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/TEY_2eY9W7I/AAAAAAAAAVA/ytxaTcIwr5o/S220/37468_416676852725_169978762725_4552868_4422020_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/TFiWbl-NkEI/AAAAAAAAAVw/duHreTLo7BQ/s72-c/July+2010+-+Grandkids+and+Joesph+009.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4615051818819619181.post-3246066973804015437</id><published>2010-06-07T14:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-07T14:28:51.162-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hot lava'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gabeisms'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mess'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bathroom floor'/><title type='text'>Hot Lava</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/TA1kY4nascI/AAAAAAAAAUU/ZfYd8ceqAxI/s1600/Ulrich.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 232px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/TA1kY4nascI/AAAAAAAAAUU/ZfYd8ceqAxI/s400/Ulrich.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480146700257112514" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gabe:   "Mom, what do you think would happen if you mixed red paint with soap all over the floor?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:  "I think it would make a big mess."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gabe:  "You don't think it would make hot lava?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:  *groan*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gabe:  "Well, don't worry, I'll clean it up in my bathroom. What would I mix to make hot lava?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4615051818819619181-3246066973804015437?l=gabeisms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/feeds/3246066973804015437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2010/06/hot-lava.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/3246066973804015437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/3246066973804015437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2010/06/hot-lava.html' title='Hot Lava'/><author><name>Windy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00011581443222895666</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/TEY_2eY9W7I/AAAAAAAAAVA/ytxaTcIwr5o/S220/37468_416676852725_169978762725_4552868_4422020_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/TA1kY4nascI/AAAAAAAAAUU/ZfYd8ceqAxI/s72-c/Ulrich.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4615051818819619181.post-8350363463118558361</id><published>2010-05-31T19:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-31T19:22:23.171-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='IHOP'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='date night'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gabeisms'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='breakfast'/><title type='text'>Date Night With Mom</title><content type='html'>&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;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/TARtbyYkXgI/AAAAAAAAAUM/KZRafxItQ7w/s1600/IMG_0935.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/TARtbyYkXgI/AAAAAAAAAUM/KZRafxItQ7w/s400/IMG_0935.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477623370938080770" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Gabe and I headed to the neighborhood IHOP the other night for some one on one time.  He ordered chocolate chip pancakes with a chocolate milk  *facepalm*   (Google it.)    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He is starting to read small words and spell them too.   It is the coolest thing and I'm really happy we started reading to him every night when he was so little.  His skills and interest in reading are TAKING OFF!  It's awesome!!  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So here's a snippet of a conversation we had:  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Gabe:  *stares at sign on our table*  "Whoa!  Mom!!!  Kh, Kids.  Eh, Eat.  F- F-  Freee!!!!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me:   *Smile*  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Gabe  *thoughtful pause*  "Is that why you brought me here???"   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He knows me so well!!!  He cracks me up!!&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4615051818819619181-8350363463118558361?l=gabeisms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/feeds/8350363463118558361/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2010/05/date-night-with-mom.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/8350363463118558361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/8350363463118558361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2010/05/date-night-with-mom.html' title='Date Night With Mom'/><author><name>Windy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00011581443222895666</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/TEY_2eY9W7I/AAAAAAAAAVA/ytxaTcIwr5o/S220/37468_416676852725_169978762725_4552868_4422020_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/TARtbyYkXgI/AAAAAAAAAUM/KZRafxItQ7w/s72-c/IMG_0935.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4615051818819619181.post-7542985283094481240</id><published>2010-05-07T19:06:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-07T19:12:09.186-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='liar'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tampa Bay Rays'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='M.A.S.'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gabe'/><title type='text'>M.A.S.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/S-TILAb32pI/AAAAAAAAAT8/9Jw9fWLR0qE/s1600/tampa-bay-rays.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 350px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/S-TILAb32pI/AAAAAAAAAT8/9Jw9fWLR0qE/s400/tampa-bay-rays.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468715938955647634" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I was told tonight by my good friend that Gabe had something called M.A.S.  which stands for Man Answer Syndrome.   She further explained that this is the need that guys have to sound like they know what their talking about.  So if they don't know the answer to something, they just keep talking like they do!  HAHAHA!   This was her conversation with Gabe on the playground during our church softball game.... &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mara:  So your Dad is playing softball tonight?  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Gabe:  Yup.  He plays for the Tampa Bay Rays&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mara:  Oh, wow... really?  What position does he play?  1st base?  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Gabe: 4th base.  &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;Awesome.  &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 class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4615051818819619181-7542985283094481240?l=gabeisms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/feeds/7542985283094481240/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2010/05/mas.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/7542985283094481240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/7542985283094481240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2010/05/mas.html' title='M.A.S.'/><author><name>Windy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00011581443222895666</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/TEY_2eY9W7I/AAAAAAAAAVA/ytxaTcIwr5o/S220/37468_416676852725_169978762725_4552868_4422020_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/S-TILAb32pI/AAAAAAAAAT8/9Jw9fWLR0qE/s72-c/tampa-bay-rays.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4615051818819619181.post-7404836493829580087</id><published>2010-04-15T14:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-15T14:11:33.229-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gabriel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='eyes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='head'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mom'/><title type='text'>Mom Eyes</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/S8eAoWmOYiI/AAAAAAAAATU/8ZoOWeCv1og/s1600/mom-eyes.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/S8eAoWmOYiI/AAAAAAAAATU/8ZoOWeCv1og/s400/mom-eyes.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460474503959044642" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Isn't this a creepy picture? It's amazing what Google image search turns up!  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Setting:&lt;/b&gt;  Nap time.  Always a source of good pre-sleepy time conversation. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Gabe:&lt;/b&gt;  *running his fingers through my hair in a monkey-esk type way*  Hmmmmm......  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Me:&lt;/b&gt;  "What are you doing, son?"  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Gabe:&lt;/b&gt;  "Looking for the eyes in the back of your head.  Dad told me they were there."   &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/4615051818819619181-7404836493829580087?l=gabeisms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/feeds/7404836493829580087/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2010/04/mom-eyes.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/7404836493829580087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/7404836493829580087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2010/04/mom-eyes.html' title='Mom Eyes'/><author><name>Windy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00011581443222895666</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/TEY_2eY9W7I/AAAAAAAAAVA/ytxaTcIwr5o/S220/37468_416676852725_169978762725_4552868_4422020_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/S8eAoWmOYiI/AAAAAAAAATU/8ZoOWeCv1og/s72-c/mom-eyes.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4615051818819619181.post-2774284726346615526</id><published>2010-04-03T08:07:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-03T08:13:24.986-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cultures'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gabriel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='burqas'/><title type='text'>Robbers!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/S7dZ1F5AFQI/AAAAAAAAATM/fQ89FpvEq0k/s1600/cr_mega_123_burqa-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/S7dZ1F5AFQI/AAAAAAAAATM/fQ89FpvEq0k/s400/cr_mega_123_burqa-1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455928242231842050" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think every Mom can appreciate the innocence of pre school kids as they discover that not all people look like their family members!  The exploration of cultures, religions, and foreign countries has begun in this house.  I realized it was time when Gabriel came very close to completely humiliating me in front of some Middle Eastern women at &lt;a href="http://planetjump.net/"&gt;Planet Jump&lt;/a&gt; this week! &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;  I observed 3 women who walked in with their little ones.  They were dressed from head to toe in black Burqas with only their eyes peeking out.  It was actually a little funny watching them play on the inflatables with their little ones!  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Gabriel ran towards me, ready for an ice cream break and when he spotted them he suddenly let out a big shriek, pointed his finger at the women and said, &lt;b&gt;"Mommy!!! ROBBERS!!!!"     &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Classic.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thank the Holy Father in Heaven they were out of earshot and didn't hear him.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After an uncontrollable outburst of laughter knowing that the statement came from total innocence and ignorance, we began a beautiful conversation about how God created us all different and special.  This curiosity led to lots of Googling to show him how people dress differently all over the world.   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sometimes parenting is awesome.  :)  &lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4615051818819619181-2774284726346615526?l=gabeisms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/feeds/2774284726346615526/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2010/04/robbers.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/2774284726346615526'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/2774284726346615526'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2010/04/robbers.html' title='Robbers!'/><author><name>Windy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00011581443222895666</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/TEY_2eY9W7I/AAAAAAAAAVA/ytxaTcIwr5o/S220/37468_416676852725_169978762725_4552868_4422020_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/S7dZ1F5AFQI/AAAAAAAAATM/fQ89FpvEq0k/s72-c/cr_mega_123_burqa-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4615051818819619181.post-4987347482594165820</id><published>2010-03-12T09:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-12T09:26:41.763-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='teeth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shoe'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tongue'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gabe'/><title type='text'>Shoe Teeth</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/S5p5Rn_4h1I/AAAAAAAAATE/blHZC3mK38w/s1600-h/img-thing.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/S5p5Rn_4h1I/AAAAAAAAATE/blHZC3mK38w/s400/img-thing.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447800042959701842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning Gabe was getting so frustrated with trying to get his shoes on.   So I tried to verbally talk him through it and this is what was said&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Gabe:  "Arrrrrrrg!!!!!!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me:  "Son, calm down.  You need to make sure the laces are untied and you need to lift the tongue up real high so you can slide your foot in underneath it."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Gabe:  "Tongue?" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me:  "Yeah, that's what you call this."  *points to shoe tongue*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Gabe:  "Well, where are the teeth?"   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4615051818819619181-4987347482594165820?l=gabeisms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/feeds/4987347482594165820/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2010/03/shoe-teeth.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/4987347482594165820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/4987347482594165820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2010/03/shoe-teeth.html' title='Shoe Teeth'/><author><name>Windy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00011581443222895666</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/TEY_2eY9W7I/AAAAAAAAAVA/ytxaTcIwr5o/S220/37468_416676852725_169978762725_4552868_4422020_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/S5p5Rn_4h1I/AAAAAAAAATE/blHZC3mK38w/s72-c/img-thing.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4615051818819619181.post-8826143938197428565</id><published>2010-03-01T18:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-01T18:31:06.931-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gabriel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='playground'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gentleman'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='manners'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='smile'/><title type='text'>My Little Gentleman</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/S4x2IhR1VHI/AAAAAAAAAS8/sYxRdzPA0mw/s1600-h/playground.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/S4x2IhR1VHI/AAAAAAAAAS8/sYxRdzPA0mw/s400/playground.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443855938328286322" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I took Gabe and Zoe to the church playground for lunch.  I was watching Gabe and his sister play on the slides and then I saw something that really made me smile.  Since I would usually expect Gabe to be PUSHING Zoe off the top of the slide or fighting over who gets the red swing and who gets the blue swing, this is a particularly special memory.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Gabe and Zoe arrived at the bottom of the slide ladder at the same time and Gabriel put out his arm, bowed and said, "Ladies first, Zoe."  Then he made eye contact with me, gave me a big fat cheesy grin, and gave me a thumbs up.  It made my day.  I love that kid.  &lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4615051818819619181-8826143938197428565?l=gabeisms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/feeds/8826143938197428565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2010/03/my-little-gentleman.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/8826143938197428565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/8826143938197428565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2010/03/my-little-gentleman.html' title='My Little Gentleman'/><author><name>Windy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00011581443222895666</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/TEY_2eY9W7I/AAAAAAAAAVA/ytxaTcIwr5o/S220/37468_416676852725_169978762725_4552868_4422020_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/S4x2IhR1VHI/AAAAAAAAAS8/sYxRdzPA0mw/s72-c/playground.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4615051818819619181.post-9129215448186881429</id><published>2010-02-22T18:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-22T18:41:52.497-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bike'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='two wheels'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gabe'/><title type='text'>No More Training Wheels!</title><content type='html'>Today was the day that Gabe learned how to ride his bike on two wheels!  It only took two tries and he had it down.  I was so proud of him.  I could totally tell he was a little scared, but the promise of a lollipop and a new pair of kicks seemed to do the trick. :)      Can't wait to hit the Pinellas Trail with him now that he can keep up!!    Good job Gabe!   &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;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/4615051818819619181-9129215448186881429?l=gabeisms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/feeds/9129215448186881429/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2010/02/no-more-training-wheels.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/9129215448186881429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/9129215448186881429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2010/02/no-more-training-wheels.html' title='No More Training Wheels!'/><author><name>Windy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00011581443222895666</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/TEY_2eY9W7I/AAAAAAAAAVA/ytxaTcIwr5o/S220/37468_416676852725_169978762725_4552868_4422020_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4615051818819619181.post-8016879091409969300</id><published>2010-02-01T17:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-01T18:08:44.301-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gabriel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cooking'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='crazy old mother'/><title type='text'>When I'm Old And My Hair Is White...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/S2eIPnoarVI/AAAAAAAAASY/yNtMQmj3PXQ/s1600-h/Crazy_Old_Lady_Peace.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 168px; height: 250px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/S2eIPnoarVI/AAAAAAAAASY/yNtMQmj3PXQ/s400/Crazy_Old_Lady_Peace.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433461277363711314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gabriel is such an awesome helper in the kitchen.  I particularly love baking and cooking with him when Zoe is napping because they are in the stage (Um, it's a stage right??) where they fight over EVERYTHING!  It is our special time together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We made vegetarian lasagna the other day.  He loves peeling onions and chopping veggies (YES, I let him use sharp knives!  Don't judge me!) and he eats more of his dinner if he has a role in preparing it.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Here's our precious conversation:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Me:&lt;/span&gt;  "Gabe, someday when you are older you will be the most fantastic chef and will make your wife really yummy meals.  She'll be so lucky."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Gabe:&lt;/span&gt;  "Well, when you are old and your hair is white I'll cook for you too Mom.  I'll take care of you and Dad." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Me:&lt;/span&gt;  "I'd love that Gabe.  How about when I'm so old and crazy that I wander the streets in my bathrobe.  You will come get me and bring me home?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Gabe:&lt;/span&gt;  "Yup."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4615051818819619181-8016879091409969300?l=gabeisms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/feeds/8016879091409969300/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2010/02/when-im-old-and-my-hair-is-white.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/8016879091409969300'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/8016879091409969300'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2010/02/when-im-old-and-my-hair-is-white.html' title='When I&apos;m Old And My Hair Is White...'/><author><name>Windy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00011581443222895666</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/TEY_2eY9W7I/AAAAAAAAAVA/ytxaTcIwr5o/S220/37468_416676852725_169978762725_4552868_4422020_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/S2eIPnoarVI/AAAAAAAAASY/yNtMQmj3PXQ/s72-c/Crazy_Old_Lady_Peace.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4615051818819619181.post-3892150912283654836</id><published>2009-11-10T12:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-10T12:19:29.526-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='weddings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='marriage'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gabe'/><title type='text'>Well, That's Not A Good Deal....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/SvnKWIntG4I/AAAAAAAAASE/aX7n-OOfEfs/s1600-h/wedding-ring.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/SvnKWIntG4I/AAAAAAAAASE/aX7n-OOfEfs/s400/wedding-ring.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402571709627571074" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gabriel and I always have our most interesting discussion right before he falls asleep, directly proceeding book reading and prayer time.  It's also called.... stalling.  :)   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today Gabe took my hand and started fiddling with my wedding rings. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gabe:  Mom, can I wear these real quick pleeeeease?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:  Okay, just for a second.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gabe:  How come you have two rings and Daddy only has one?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:  Welp, this one with the big (big being a relative term people) diamond is from when Daddy asked me to be his wife, and this one is from the day we got married. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gabe:  And you gave Daddy his ring when you got married?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:  Yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gabe:  So when I find a wife I will have to give her two rings and she will only give me one?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:  Yup. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gabe:  Well, that's just not a good deal Mom.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4615051818819619181-3892150912283654836?l=gabeisms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/feeds/3892150912283654836/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2009/11/well-thats-not-good-deal.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/3892150912283654836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/3892150912283654836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2009/11/well-thats-not-good-deal.html' title='Well, That&apos;s Not A Good Deal....'/><author><name>Windy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00011581443222895666</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/TEY_2eY9W7I/AAAAAAAAAVA/ytxaTcIwr5o/S220/37468_416676852725_169978762725_4552868_4422020_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/SvnKWIntG4I/AAAAAAAAASE/aX7n-OOfEfs/s72-c/wedding-ring.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4615051818819619181.post-5105478589363862067</id><published>2009-11-03T18:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-03T19:02:18.536-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Miami Hurricanes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gabriel'/><title type='text'>The "U"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/SvDuOj5j76I/AAAAAAAAAR8/gG6PFa8ltRw/s1600-h/11656_169363998558_501003558_2734247_4265516_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/SvDuOj5j76I/AAAAAAAAAR8/gG6PFa8ltRw/s400/11656_169363998558_501003558_2734247_4265516_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400077887139475362" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a guest post from Gabe's Dad, Justin.... I think you're going to like it.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, so I ask Gabe if he wants a Mohawk for his haircut. To which he replies, "No Dad, I want the U!"  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I asked, "Why do you want the U?"  To which he said, "because I like the Hurricanes!". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So after wiping the tear from my eye, I graciously obliged him! I love you son!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4615051818819619181-5105478589363862067?l=gabeisms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/feeds/5105478589363862067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2009/11/u.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/5105478589363862067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/5105478589363862067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2009/11/u.html' title='The &quot;U&quot;'/><author><name>Windy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00011581443222895666</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/TEY_2eY9W7I/AAAAAAAAAVA/ytxaTcIwr5o/S220/37468_416676852725_169978762725_4552868_4422020_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/SvDuOj5j76I/AAAAAAAAAR8/gG6PFa8ltRw/s72-c/11656_169363998558_501003558_2734247_4265516_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4615051818819619181.post-7312982497263581106</id><published>2009-10-19T12:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-19T12:58:43.951-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Blankie Sniffers</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/StzEKS9o49I/AAAAAAAAARU/9u6cNK4w43Y/s1600-h/IMG_0532.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/StzEKS9o49I/AAAAAAAAARU/9u6cNK4w43Y/s400/IMG_0532.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394402134851118034" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does anyone else out there in cyberspace have a kid who is a "Blankie Sniffer"?   Gabriel has always held his blankets up to his nose ever since he was an infant!  He just cuddles it up over his mouth and smells it.  He also has a weird obsession with the tag of the blanket.  He likes to rub it.  I know.... we are a freak show here.  It's awfully darn cute though.... might start getting weird when he's 17 and sniffing blankets during Play Station sleepovers with his buddies though.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4615051818819619181-7312982497263581106?l=gabeisms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/feeds/7312982497263581106/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2009/10/blankie-sniffers.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/7312982497263581106'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/7312982497263581106'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2009/10/blankie-sniffers.html' title='Blankie Sniffers'/><author><name>Windy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00011581443222895666</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/TEY_2eY9W7I/AAAAAAAAAVA/ytxaTcIwr5o/S220/37468_416676852725_169978762725_4552868_4422020_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/StzEKS9o49I/AAAAAAAAARU/9u6cNK4w43Y/s72-c/IMG_0532.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4615051818819619181.post-5461037648234458312</id><published>2009-10-15T06:05:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-15T06:11:02.673-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gabriel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bread'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='breakfast'/><title type='text'>Butt Bread</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/Stce0i5ljCI/AAAAAAAAARE/eRmVk-zmZfg/s1600-h/2829145334_c3eb8fe040.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/Stce0i5ljCI/AAAAAAAAARE/eRmVk-zmZfg/s400/2829145334_c3eb8fe040.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392812966869830690" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning my husband was out in the kitchen making Gabriel breakfast.  As my sleepy-morning-loathing-self stumbled into the kitchen, Gabriel greeted me by saying:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mom!  I'm eating BUTT BREAD!"  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I looked at Justin and saw him pulling the heals of the loaf of wheat bread out of the toaster and smiling.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Butt bread, nice one Dad."   I responded sarcastically.   :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4615051818819619181-5461037648234458312?l=gabeisms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/feeds/5461037648234458312/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2009/10/butt-bread.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/5461037648234458312'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/5461037648234458312'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2009/10/butt-bread.html' title='Butt Bread'/><author><name>Windy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00011581443222895666</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/TEY_2eY9W7I/AAAAAAAAAVA/ytxaTcIwr5o/S220/37468_416676852725_169978762725_4552868_4422020_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/Stce0i5ljCI/AAAAAAAAARE/eRmVk-zmZfg/s72-c/2829145334_c3eb8fe040.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4615051818819619181.post-9040216538445016210</id><published>2009-10-07T12:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-10T18:33:56.624-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gabriel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poppy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bike'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='job'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Zoe'/><title type='text'>We Love Black People</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/SszsLWSPtMI/AAAAAAAAAQk/o2dE68Wc0_w/s1600-h/denzel-washington-picture-5.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 307px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/SszsLWSPtMI/AAAAAAAAAQk/o2dE68Wc0_w/s400/denzel-washington-picture-5.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389942533760464066" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night my husband ditched me to go see Rob Bell speak in Tampa *can you hear the resentment in my "voice"?*   My friend Julie came over and we went for our weekly jog, but this time had kids in tow.  Not quite as relaxing as normal, but equally entertaining as most moments are with Gabriel and Zoe.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zoe loves to wave to pretty much every person that jogs by on Bayshore and begs to pet every dog ("goggy") that is being walked.  Gabe loves to correct his little sister when she is mistaken.  As was the case last night:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Older White man jogs by*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zoe: "Hi Poppy!!!" (Poppy is my Dad- she apparently thinks a lot of men look like Poppy)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gabe: "That's not Poppy, Zoe!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*African American man rides by on his bike*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zoe:  "Hi Poppy!!!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gabe: *in a loud voice*  "Zoe, Poppy doesn't have a black face!!!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4615051818819619181-9040216538445016210?l=gabeisms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/feeds/9040216538445016210/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2009/10/we-love-black-people.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/9040216538445016210'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/9040216538445016210'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2009/10/we-love-black-people.html' title='We Love Black People'/><author><name>Windy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00011581443222895666</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/TEY_2eY9W7I/AAAAAAAAAVA/ytxaTcIwr5o/S220/37468_416676852725_169978762725_4552868_4422020_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/SszsLWSPtMI/AAAAAAAAAQk/o2dE68Wc0_w/s72-c/denzel-washington-picture-5.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4615051818819619181.post-4977992866476000208</id><published>2009-09-25T10:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-25T11:00:14.465-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sorry Son, We Don't Live in Alabama...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/Sr0FJMDfZ-I/AAAAAAAAAQU/54q4TGlT4jw/s1600-h/images.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 113px; height: 135px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/Sr0FJMDfZ-I/AAAAAAAAAQU/54q4TGlT4jw/s400/images.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385466384817809378" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gabe:  Mom, did you tell your Mommy that you wanted to be a mommy when you growed up when you were little?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:  Yes.  I guess I always wanted to be a mommy.  Why?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gabe:  I want to be a Daddy someday too.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:  Well, I think you'll be a great Daddy someday.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gabe:  I want to marry Zoe.  She'll be a nice Mommy.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:  You can't marry Zoe because she is your sister&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gabe:  But I really like Zoe and I'd miss her if she wasn't near me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:  Welp, it's illegal.  Sorry kiddo.  Maybe you can be neighbors. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gabe:  Nope, I'm going to marry her.  Just wait and see.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:  OK.... I'll see how you feel about that when you're 12.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4615051818819619181-4977992866476000208?l=gabeisms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/feeds/4977992866476000208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2009/09/sorry-son-we-dont-live-in-alabama.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/4977992866476000208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/4977992866476000208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2009/09/sorry-son-we-dont-live-in-alabama.html' title='Sorry Son, We Don&apos;t Live in Alabama...'/><author><name>Windy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00011581443222895666</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/TEY_2eY9W7I/AAAAAAAAAVA/ytxaTcIwr5o/S220/37468_416676852725_169978762725_4552868_4422020_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/Sr0FJMDfZ-I/AAAAAAAAAQU/54q4TGlT4jw/s72-c/images.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4615051818819619181.post-3545291403432714906</id><published>2009-09-09T10:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-09T10:30:20.598-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Guns'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gabriel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Satan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='God'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='smite'/><title type='text'>God and Guns</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/SqfkvstrXvI/AAAAAAAAAQE/WeB9SJiZEwU/s1600-h/Nuke2.JPG.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 399px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/SqfkvstrXvI/AAAAAAAAAQE/WeB9SJiZEwU/s400/Nuke2.JPG.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379519788025077490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;*DISCLAIMER: Some or all parts of this post may be theologically incorrect for comical purposes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gabe: "Mom, does God have a gun?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Nope, God doesn't need a gun." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gabe:  "Well then what is He going to kill Satan with?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "He is going to smite him."  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gabe:  "What does smite mean?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "It means he's going to blow him up into a fiery ball of smoke till there's nothing left."   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gabe: *sounding concerned*  "But then I might die too!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:  "Why would you die?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gabe:  "Because God lives in my heart and when he smites him it might make my heart explode."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a slightly unrelated note.... while searching for a picture to post with this blog, I did a google image search for "God smiting Satan" and the first picture to pop up was of Bill O'Reilly, which just made me giggle.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4615051818819619181-3545291403432714906?l=gabeisms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/feeds/3545291403432714906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2009/09/god-and-guns.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/3545291403432714906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/3545291403432714906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2009/09/god-and-guns.html' title='God and Guns'/><author><name>Windy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00011581443222895666</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/TEY_2eY9W7I/AAAAAAAAAVA/ytxaTcIwr5o/S220/37468_416676852725_169978762725_4552868_4422020_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/SqfkvstrXvI/AAAAAAAAAQE/WeB9SJiZEwU/s72-c/Nuke2.JPG.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4615051818819619181.post-610739503161728855</id><published>2009-06-28T12:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-28T12:48:58.988-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gabeisms'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='PS3'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Call of Duty'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gabe'/><title type='text'>Dear God....</title><content type='html'>Gabe and Zoe now share a room in our new house, and so far it is working out very well.  =)   Last night we laid in the beds and said our prayers out loud and Gabe said, "I wanna pray!!!"  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It started out as usual, "Thanks God for Nana and Poppy and Mommy and Daddy and the whole wide world..."  and then it got REALLY GOOOD.   "... and God?? Please come down into Daddy's heart and tell Him to let me play 'Call of Duty' on the PS3!!!"  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I replied that God would NOT be telling Daddy that, between bits of uncontrollable laughter.  =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4615051818819619181-610739503161728855?l=gabeisms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/feeds/610739503161728855/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2009/06/dear-god.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/610739503161728855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/610739503161728855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2009/06/dear-god.html' title='Dear God....'/><author><name>Windy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00011581443222895666</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/TEY_2eY9W7I/AAAAAAAAAVA/ytxaTcIwr5o/S220/37468_416676852725_169978762725_4552868_4422020_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4615051818819619181.post-1192971687333875556</id><published>2009-05-28T19:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T20:00:46.033-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='eye brow'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cut'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gabe'/><title type='text'>Just When You Thought He'd Done It All....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/Sh9Pf0cxSZI/AAAAAAAAAP0/RssVyAazSfY/s1600-h/IMG_0356.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/Sh9Pf0cxSZI/AAAAAAAAAP0/RssVyAazSfY/s400/IMG_0356.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341075091158550930" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He cuts his eyebrows off.  Yup.  Inevitable for most kids I guess.... lashes, eyebrow, hair, sibling's hair....  tonight he found my manicure scissors in the bathroom and chopped off a couple good chunks of his eyebrows.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the laughter ceased; Because there was no stopping that, with the ridiculousness of what he looked like, there was disciplining.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*sigh*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4615051818819619181-1192971687333875556?l=gabeisms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/feeds/1192971687333875556/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2009/05/just-when-you-thought-hed-done-it-all.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/1192971687333875556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/1192971687333875556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2009/05/just-when-you-thought-hed-done-it-all.html' title='Just When You Thought He&apos;d Done It All....'/><author><name>Windy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00011581443222895666</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/TEY_2eY9W7I/AAAAAAAAAVA/ytxaTcIwr5o/S220/37468_416676852725_169978762725_4552868_4422020_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/Sh9Pf0cxSZI/AAAAAAAAAP0/RssVyAazSfY/s72-c/IMG_0356.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4615051818819619181.post-7884983668328531349</id><published>2009-05-24T18:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-24T19:00:53.007-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Super Diabetes!</title><content type='html'>Tonight I made a Blueberry Pineapple cobbler that is NOT diabetes friendly! It's for the Memorial Day party we are attending tomorrow. Gabe helped me whip it up and as we were sprinkling the final 1/4 cup of sugar on the top he said, "Mom, if you ate this you'd get SUPER DIABETES!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4615051818819619181-7884983668328531349?l=gabeisms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/feeds/7884983668328531349/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2009/05/super-diabetes.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/7884983668328531349'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/7884983668328531349'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2009/05/super-diabetes.html' title='Super Diabetes!'/><author><name>Windy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00011581443222895666</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/TEY_2eY9W7I/AAAAAAAAAVA/ytxaTcIwr5o/S220/37468_416676852725_169978762725_4552868_4422020_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4615051818819619181.post-5102427049415477019</id><published>2009-05-24T17:55:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-24T18:00:12.032-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Who's Smarter: Mom or Dad?</title><content type='html'>Tonight  Justin was helping me unload the mega amount of groceries I got at Publix and he started picking on me for bringing home more dog treats.  (We have like 10 boxes of dog treats)   I tried to explain to him that they were on sale buy one get one free and I had 2  $2.50 off coupons that gave me almost $1.70 in overage which then took money off the rest of my grocery bill.  But he just didn't get it... so I told him to leave me alone and I'd find people who would like free dog treats. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gabe walked into the kitchen and just stared at us, wide eyed... waiting for us to finish our quarrel I guess.... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I smiled at him and said,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Gabe, who's smarter... Mommy or Daddy?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gabe rested his chin on his fist as if he were thinking for about 2 seconds and said....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ummm..... God."  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Classic.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4615051818819619181-5102427049415477019?l=gabeisms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/feeds/5102427049415477019/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2009/05/whos-smarter-mom-or-dad.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/5102427049415477019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/5102427049415477019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2009/05/whos-smarter-mom-or-dad.html' title='Who&apos;s Smarter: Mom or Dad?'/><author><name>Windy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00011581443222895666</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/TEY_2eY9W7I/AAAAAAAAAVA/ytxaTcIwr5o/S220/37468_416676852725_169978762725_4552868_4422020_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4615051818819619181.post-3914273017907219996</id><published>2009-05-20T18:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T18:49:33.621-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The 4 Year Old Theologian</title><content type='html'>Gabriel absolutely made my jaw drop today.  He's asked me some pretty cool questions before like "Where is Heaven?" but this was even better.   Here's our conversation on the way to school.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gabe:  "Mom... did you see that cross on the road?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Nope"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gabe: "Mom, Jesus died on the cross.  They put the nails in his hands and he died and three days later he rose from the dead and then it was Easter!"  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:  "That's right buddy!!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gabe: "But Mom.... where was Jesus when he was dead?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "They put his body in a tomb, remember?  They rolled the big rock over it to seal it?  And then the angel rolled it away and...."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gabe:  "No, no... I know his BODY was in the tomb, but where was his SOUL?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:  *jaw falls to floor, I may have swerved off the road a little bit from shock*    "Umm Gabe, can you tell me what a soul is?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't quite get him to answer this questions.  He did tell me he learned the word "soul" at church... whether that church is his pre school or our children's dept at church is still unclear, but I can't remember ever having a conversation about "souls" with Gabe yet..... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Well,  your "soul" is the part of you that makes You... YOU!  It's the part of you that feels happy or sad, makes choices, loves, laughs.... is that what you mean?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gabe: "YES. WHERE. WAS. HE?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:  *trying desperately to think of how to explain Jesus going to hell to break us free of the "Old Covenent" and fulfill the 'New Covenant in 4 year old terms*      "Jesus went to hell to see Satan and they got in a big fat fight and Jesus won BIG TIME. And because he won, our souls get to go to Heaven now when we die!"    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This seemed to satisfy Gabe.  He responded...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gabe:  "Okay. That's good." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love my son.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4615051818819619181-3914273017907219996?l=gabeisms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/feeds/3914273017907219996/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2009/05/4-year-old-theologian.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/3914273017907219996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/3914273017907219996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2009/05/4-year-old-theologian.html' title='The 4 Year Old Theologian'/><author><name>Windy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00011581443222895666</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/TEY_2eY9W7I/AAAAAAAAAVA/ytxaTcIwr5o/S220/37468_416676852725_169978762725_4552868_4422020_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4615051818819619181.post-253815322843485120</id><published>2009-05-01T17:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-01T17:44:28.060-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='date book'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gabe'/><title type='text'>Like Mother, Like Son</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/SfuWHZp1_uI/AAAAAAAAAPc/I191SAJbbYk/s1600-h/diyplanner-martinks-planner.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 324px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/SfuWHZp1_uI/AAAAAAAAAPc/I191SAJbbYk/s400/diyplanner-martinks-planner.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331019637812756194" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have an awesome pink leather date book that my sister got me for Christmas that I write down everything in.   I love date books.  Lists.  Pretending that I'm organized even though I'm not.    The following is a very random conversation that Gabe and I had while spending some one on one time together on a car ride to pick up our pizza from Pizza Hut.    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Gabe:&lt;/span&gt;  "Mom, I think I need to get a schedule book."  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Me:&lt;/span&gt;  "Why?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Gabe:&lt;/span&gt; "Because I need one."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Me:&lt;/span&gt; *good grief, I should know by now, I need to be more specific with this boy*  "What do you need a schedule book for, Gabe?"  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Gabe&lt;/span&gt;: *animatedly counts on his fingers while he speaks*   "Because I need to write down when it's time to play, when it's time to go to McDonalds, when it's time to go to Ms. Kerry's, when it's time to go to the park...."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Me:&lt;/span&gt;   "Ok Gabe... we'll make you a schedule book."  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And we did.  :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4615051818819619181-253815322843485120?l=gabeisms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/feeds/253815322843485120/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2009/05/like-mother-like-son.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/253815322843485120'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/253815322843485120'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2009/05/like-mother-like-son.html' title='Like Mother, Like Son'/><author><name>Windy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00011581443222895666</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/TEY_2eY9W7I/AAAAAAAAAVA/ytxaTcIwr5o/S220/37468_416676852725_169978762725_4552868_4422020_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/SfuWHZp1_uI/AAAAAAAAAPc/I191SAJbbYk/s72-c/diyplanner-martinks-planner.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4615051818819619181.post-2329581108425514279</id><published>2009-04-20T16:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-20T16:29:53.699-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fish'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gabe'/><title type='text'>I like big FISH and I can not lie...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/Se0FR28lueI/AAAAAAAAAPE/fy1Grx7qHVk/s1600-h/images.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 125px; height: 125px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/Se0FR28lueI/AAAAAAAAAPE/fy1Grx7qHVk/s400/images.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326919738614725090" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Tonight we had tilapia for dinner.  This was a conversation that occurred while trying to manipulate our children into eating their fish&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:  Gabe... eat your fish.  It makes your brain big.  You don't want Zoe to have a bigger brain than you do you? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gabe:  No!  *shovels fish into his mouth*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Justin:  Good job, son. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gabe:  Why does eating fish make your brain big? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:  Because it has amino 3 fatty-acids. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gabe:  What are fatty asses?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4615051818819619181-2329581108425514279?l=gabeisms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/feeds/2329581108425514279/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-like-big-fish-and-i-can-not-lie.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/2329581108425514279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/2329581108425514279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-like-big-fish-and-i-can-not-lie.html' title='I like big FISH and I can not lie...'/><author><name>Windy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00011581443222895666</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/TEY_2eY9W7I/AAAAAAAAAVA/ytxaTcIwr5o/S220/37468_416676852725_169978762725_4552868_4422020_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/Se0FR28lueI/AAAAAAAAAPE/fy1Grx7qHVk/s72-c/images.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4615051818819619181.post-1572724938438620333</id><published>2009-03-27T16:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-27T16:39:22.626-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gabriel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='party'/><title type='text'>Making A Party</title><content type='html'>Every time I want to be mad at this kid he says something hilarious that makes all the anger just disappear into oblivion. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Justin and I were laying in bed and Gabe comes in and starts turning the light switch on and off and on and off and on and off and on and off...... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:  GABE STOP!!!!!!!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gabe:  on and off and on and off and on and off&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: GABRIEL, STOP NOW!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gabe:  But Mom, I'm just makin a party!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4615051818819619181-1572724938438620333?l=gabeisms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/feeds/1572724938438620333/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2009/03/making-party.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/1572724938438620333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/1572724938438620333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2009/03/making-party.html' title='Making A Party'/><author><name>Windy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00011581443222895666</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/TEY_2eY9W7I/AAAAAAAAAVA/ytxaTcIwr5o/S220/37468_416676852725_169978762725_4552868_4422020_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4615051818819619181.post-6266092089295113980</id><published>2009-03-26T11:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-26T11:24:29.895-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mischief. Gabeism'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='toenail'/><title type='text'>I Ate My Toenail</title><content type='html'>I think every kid has a "sneaky look."   At least Gabe has one, fo sho.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today that little devilish smile showed up when I walked into the room.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:  What'd you do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gabe:  I ate it. *sheepish grin, stares at floor* &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:  What'd you eat?  * Silently prays "Dear God please don't let this answer lead to another poison control call. They must be getting suspicious by now" *&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gabe:  I ate my toenail.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think I need to say anything else.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4615051818819619181-6266092089295113980?l=gabeisms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/feeds/6266092089295113980/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-ate-my-toenail.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/6266092089295113980'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/6266092089295113980'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-ate-my-toenail.html' title='I Ate My Toenail'/><author><name>Windy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00011581443222895666</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/TEY_2eY9W7I/AAAAAAAAAVA/ytxaTcIwr5o/S220/37468_416676852725_169978762725_4552868_4422020_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4615051818819619181.post-6969536081191070596</id><published>2009-03-17T06:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-17T06:36:56.164-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='baking'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='brownies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gabe'/><title type='text'>Lickin The Bowl</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/Sb-nPOdTsEI/AAAAAAAAAOY/UJrgAeVNXXc/s1600-h/Photo+18.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/Sb-nPOdTsEI/AAAAAAAAAOY/UJrgAeVNXXc/s400/Photo+18.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314149965341372482" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember the pure elation I felt when I was a little kid and my mom would let me lick the spoon or the bowl after baking some sweet treat.  (Granted, with my Mom it was usually a wheat germ brownie or carrot bread)  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gabe LOVES to be in the kitchen.  And he ALWAYS licks the brownie bowl clean.  =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4615051818819619181-6969536081191070596?l=gabeisms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/feeds/6969536081191070596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2009/03/lickin-bowl.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/6969536081191070596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/6969536081191070596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2009/03/lickin-bowl.html' title='Lickin The Bowl'/><author><name>Windy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00011581443222895666</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/TEY_2eY9W7I/AAAAAAAAAVA/ytxaTcIwr5o/S220/37468_416676852725_169978762725_4552868_4422020_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/Sb-nPOdTsEI/AAAAAAAAAOY/UJrgAeVNXXc/s72-c/Photo+18.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4615051818819619181.post-4461714488100323295</id><published>2009-03-17T06:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-17T06:33:00.712-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='make believe'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='merg'/><title type='text'>I'm A "Merg"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/Sb-mXWRZbHI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/RNFEa-8m1yM/s1600-h/images.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 136px; height: 140px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/Sb-mXWRZbHI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/RNFEa-8m1yM/s400/images.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314149005366226034" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gabe is totally in the phase where he makes up his own words.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just typed in "Merg" on Google Image search and this is what popped up. That's REALLY scary.  Do you see the confederate flag covering the you know what??  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day we were in the car and Gabe goes, "Mom.... you're a Merg.  You and Zoe, you guys are mergs."   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I said, "Is Dad a merg?"  and Gabe replied, "Nope, just you and Zoe."  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Is being a 'Merg' a good thing?" I asked.  Gabe paused.   "Yes." He said.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4615051818819619181-4461714488100323295?l=gabeisms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/feeds/4461714488100323295/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2009/03/im-merg.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/4461714488100323295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/4461714488100323295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2009/03/im-merg.html' title='I&apos;m A &quot;Merg&quot;'/><author><name>Windy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00011581443222895666</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/TEY_2eY9W7I/AAAAAAAAAVA/ytxaTcIwr5o/S220/37468_416676852725_169978762725_4552868_4422020_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/Sb-mXWRZbHI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/RNFEa-8m1yM/s72-c/images.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4615051818819619181.post-5897514609550744869</id><published>2009-02-28T14:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-28T14:35:49.513-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='garbage'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pop tarts'/><title type='text'>Eating Garbage</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/Sam7ILfgiUI/AAAAAAAAAN4/bdM5l0RZ9W4/s1600-h/images-1.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 143px; height: 86px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/Sam7ILfgiUI/AAAAAAAAAN4/bdM5l0RZ9W4/s400/images-1.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307979385031133506" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I went grocery shopping at Publix (of course) and I brought home 4 boxes of one of the most horrible, God-forsaken processed foods on the planet.  Pop-tarts.  And they were the frosted kind with sprinkles on top.  My husband loves these things and when I bring them home along with my wheat germ, flax seeds, and spaghetti squash... he is nicer to me.   And well, they were free after coupons.  (of course) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this morning my bouncing 4 year old finds the shiny box and brings them to me.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gabe: I want this!!!!!!!!! Pleeeeeeeese!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:  You don't want that.  Those are your Dad's.  It's garbage, Gabe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gabe:  I WANT TO EAT GARBAGE LIKE DAD!!!!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:   *rolls eyes and lets Justin handle the rest*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4615051818819619181-5897514609550744869?l=gabeisms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/feeds/5897514609550744869/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2009/02/eating-garbage.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/5897514609550744869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/5897514609550744869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2009/02/eating-garbage.html' title='Eating Garbage'/><author><name>Windy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00011581443222895666</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/TEY_2eY9W7I/AAAAAAAAAVA/ytxaTcIwr5o/S220/37468_416676852725_169978762725_4552868_4422020_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/Sam7ILfgiUI/AAAAAAAAAN4/bdM5l0RZ9W4/s72-c/images-1.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4615051818819619181.post-1996139749179093480</id><published>2009-02-20T09:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T10:04:27.271-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ninja'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='G.I. Joe'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bologna'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gabe'/><title type='text'>Ninja Girl With Allergies?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/SZ7wZnYrIbI/AAAAAAAAANo/Q55aT59nSNQ/s1600-h/ladyjane3fg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 142px; height: 142px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/SZ7wZnYrIbI/AAAAAAAAANo/Q55aT59nSNQ/s400/ladyjane3fg.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304941733948891570" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lot of the the time Gabe will tell me things and I'll have absolutely no idea what he's talking about unless I ask A LOT of context clue type questions.  Can anyone relate?  For instance.... today I bought some bologna.  We don't usually have this mysterious lunch meat at our house because 1.)  I'm still not exactly sure what it's made out of and 2.) my Mom (the health freak) use to tell us we would die if we ever ate it when we were little    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gabe:  "Mom let's go to Wendy's."  He does this pretty much every day on the way home because when we DO get lunch there it is a total treat.  He knows it is the home of the Frosty.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: No, Gabe we are going to have bologna and cheese sandwiches today.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gabe: But Mom, that red ninja girl is allergic to bologna.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This just made me laugh.  If you just read that statement and didn't at least giggle there's just something wrong with you.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:  Where did you see this ninja girl Gabe?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gabe:  On G.I. Joe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:  Well, you're not allergic to bologna so you'll be okay.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gabe: How do you know?  I might dis-plode if I eat it.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gabe says displode instead of explode.   I think it's cute so I just go with it.  He's growing up so fast.  He couldn't say his "L's" for a long time and magically last week he started saying them correctly.  "Whaaa-wee-pops" are now "lollipops"  and "why-ons" are now "lions."    Makes me proud, and sad at the same time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to bologna allergy ninja girl.... I just think it's amazing and funny how kids can remember everything.  Even one random line from the G.I. Joe movie.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4615051818819619181-1996139749179093480?l=gabeisms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/feeds/1996139749179093480/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2009/02/ninja-girl-with-allergies.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/1996139749179093480'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/1996139749179093480'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2009/02/ninja-girl-with-allergies.html' title='Ninja Girl With Allergies?'/><author><name>Windy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00011581443222895666</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/TEY_2eY9W7I/AAAAAAAAAVA/ytxaTcIwr5o/S220/37468_416676852725_169978762725_4552868_4422020_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/SZ7wZnYrIbI/AAAAAAAAANo/Q55aT59nSNQ/s72-c/ladyjane3fg.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4615051818819619181.post-3617527141694766942</id><published>2009-02-19T06:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-19T06:55:15.456-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Box Car Children</title><content type='html'>Gabe and I have started to read Book 1 of the Box Car Children series.  I decided to experiment to see how good his listening skills were and I can't believe how much he's enjoying this!  He pays attention and seems to retain most of the story lines!  He asks a TON of questions too. (Shocker!)  We are on chapter 8 and started reading two days ago.   There are a few black and white sketchings here and there that keep him intrigued.  I'm really proud of him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4615051818819619181-3617527141694766942?l=gabeisms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/feeds/3617527141694766942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2009/02/box-car-children.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/3617527141694766942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/3617527141694766942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2009/02/box-car-children.html' title='Box Car Children'/><author><name>Windy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00011581443222895666</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/TEY_2eY9W7I/AAAAAAAAAVA/ytxaTcIwr5o/S220/37468_416676852725_169978762725_4552868_4422020_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4615051818819619181.post-6195276762122801947</id><published>2009-02-16T04:15:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-16T04:18:15.672-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Presidents Day'/><title type='text'>President's Day</title><content type='html'>Last night I was explaining to Gabe why he didn't get to go to pre school today.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Gabe, tomorrow is President's Day so there's no pre school tomorrow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gabe: O-rock Obama is coming over to our house?!?! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Ha!  No... we celebrate all the wonderfulness of a couple of our founding presidents, George Washington and Abraham Lincoln.  They were presidents even before Nana and Poppy were born.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gabe:  Whoa.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4615051818819619181-6195276762122801947?l=gabeisms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/feeds/6195276762122801947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2009/02/presidents-day.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/6195276762122801947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/6195276762122801947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2009/02/presidents-day.html' title='President&apos;s Day'/><author><name>Windy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00011581443222895666</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/TEY_2eY9W7I/AAAAAAAAAVA/ytxaTcIwr5o/S220/37468_416676852725_169978762725_4552868_4422020_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4615051818819619181.post-1590990091170393895</id><published>2009-02-15T16:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T16:58:02.155-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Love Of God</title><content type='html'>I apologize in advance if this comes across as bold, or judgmental, or out of line, but it is something I want to remember. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today we went to a different church that we don't normally go to (that will remain un-named to protect the innocent who are going to do great things in the future here).   And to put it bluntly, the children's ministry was the pits.  My son was ushered into a 4's and 5's classroom where the Sunday school teacher welcomed him and me.  She then showed me some bookmarks they were making and told me they were learning that Jesus was the "Good Shepherd."  She said, "He probably won't get it, but it's okay."    WHOA LADY.  THAT WAS THE WRONG THING TO SAY.    The person who's church I was attending made mention that I probably was offended that she insinuated that my child wasn't bright enough to "get" the story, but that wasn't it at all.  This is what those 5 little words said to me, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I am teaching the next generation of Christ followers, but I believe I am just a babysitter.  I have been given no training, no tools, and no confidence that a 4 or 5 year old can grasp concepts about God's love for them or that this hour that I am spending with these little people is making an eternal difference in their lives."  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Hang on... there's more..... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When service let out (which by the way service was GREAT)  My husband went to go pick up the kids while I caught up with a friend for a second.  As Justin walked down the hallway he heard Gabe say, "Dad! Wait!"  Gabe was sitting on a chair outside the sanctuary by himself...with no grown ups around.  He said he was looking for us and he had left the classroom.  No one was looking for him.  I'm not sure if they even knew he had gone.  This made us frustrated with Gabe, (he got a talkin to afterwards) of course, but more so frustrated with the lack of security and organization of the leaders in the children's ministry!!  What he had left the building and started walking down the street?   What if someone had taken him?  What the crap!?!?!   We were both pretty hot.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways.... there are good leaders at this church that are taking steps toward positive change in many areas of the church.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All this to say this.... because I'm not posting this to vent or rag on this particular church.  I'm saying this to PRAISE THE LORD for our children's ministry at the church we attend.  For the leaders who "get" that little people can TOTALLY understand God's love and share it with their family and friends even at such a young age.    I have a new appreciation for the partnership with our children's ministry and a new found understanding for its importance in the early development of my kids understanding and desire to be a part of the "church" as an institution.  I know when I leave him there he is surrounded by people who are praying for him, who are teaching him and reinforcing basic concepts about things like God made the world. God made me. God loves me.  God wants me to tell others about Him.   He is memorizing Scripture.  He is starting a love relationship with his Saviour.    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sincerely praying for children's ministries everywhere now.   It is such an important place to serve, if not THE most important place to serve, if God places it upon your heart.  Don't take it lightly.  Even at 2, children can understand God's love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4615051818819619181-1590990091170393895?l=gabeisms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/feeds/1590990091170393895/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2009/02/love-of-god.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/1590990091170393895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/1590990091170393895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2009/02/love-of-god.html' title='The Love Of God'/><author><name>Windy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00011581443222895666</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/TEY_2eY9W7I/AAAAAAAAAVA/ytxaTcIwr5o/S220/37468_416676852725_169978762725_4552868_4422020_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4615051818819619181.post-5866003396338464802</id><published>2009-02-09T04:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T04:46:16.715-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Your A Sweet Girl</title><content type='html'>On Saturday night we were reading a story.  One of Gabe's favorites, "Fred and Ted Go Camping."  After we said prayers Gabe just started stroking my face and he said, "You're a sweet girl, Mom."      I just giggled.  Where does he come up with this stuff??&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4615051818819619181-5866003396338464802?l=gabeisms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/feeds/5866003396338464802/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2009/02/your-sweet-girl.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/5866003396338464802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/5866003396338464802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2009/02/your-sweet-girl.html' title='Your A Sweet Girl'/><author><name>Windy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00011581443222895666</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/TEY_2eY9W7I/AAAAAAAAAVA/ytxaTcIwr5o/S220/37468_416676852725_169978762725_4552868_4422020_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4615051818819619181.post-3424214971287991746</id><published>2009-02-09T04:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T04:40:25.390-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bible story'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parable'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lost sheep'/><title type='text'>Sunday Day School Re-Told</title><content type='html'>Once upon a time there was a little sheep and he got lost.  Then the shepherd was trying to find him and then he found him.  And when the shepherd found the lost sheep he said, "Yaaaaaaaaaaaaay!" because he missed him.   (Luke 15:3-7)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4615051818819619181-3424214971287991746?l=gabeisms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/feeds/3424214971287991746/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2009/02/sunday-day-school-re-told_09.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/3424214971287991746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/3424214971287991746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2009/02/sunday-day-school-re-told_09.html' title='Sunday Day School Re-Told'/><author><name>Windy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00011581443222895666</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/TEY_2eY9W7I/AAAAAAAAAVA/ytxaTcIwr5o/S220/37468_416676852725_169978762725_4552868_4422020_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4615051818819619181.post-1074123243701530747</id><published>2009-02-05T11:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T11:39:41.058-08:00</updated><title type='text'>He Can Have My Penny</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/SYtANgtRX5I/AAAAAAAAANI/KckbrkutBZU/s1600-h/Photo+33.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/SYtANgtRX5I/AAAAAAAAANI/KckbrkutBZU/s400/Photo+33.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299399987393814418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning we went to Chuck E Cheese.  My kids LOVE Chuck E Cheese and if given the chance to go to Disney or Chuck E Cheese, it's quite possible they might pick Chuck E Cheese.  Anyways.... with my trustee coupons and our play group friends to split with we were able to  play for 3 hours and eat all the pizza and drinks we could fathom for $10.  Not to mention the pop rocks and dum dums that Gabe picked out with his ticket prizes.  He was also quite excited about finding a penny on the floor.  Gabe loves money.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  When we got in the parking lot a scruffy man came up to me and asked me if I had any money.   I didn't have ANYTHING, only my debit card and I told him I was sorry.     After we got in the car Gabe said, "Mom, that guy looked hungry.  He can have my penny."   I almost cried.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to McDonalds got some burgers and drove back to give him the bag.  He was very gracious and ripped right into them.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your heart is good Gabe.  I pray you continue to love others as much as you do now.   You teach me more than I teach you some days.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4615051818819619181-1074123243701530747?l=gabeisms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/feeds/1074123243701530747/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2009/02/he-can-have-my-penny.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/1074123243701530747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/1074123243701530747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2009/02/he-can-have-my-penny.html' title='He Can Have My Penny'/><author><name>Windy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00011581443222895666</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/TEY_2eY9W7I/AAAAAAAAAVA/ytxaTcIwr5o/S220/37468_416676852725_169978762725_4552868_4422020_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/SYtANgtRX5I/AAAAAAAAANI/KckbrkutBZU/s72-c/Photo+33.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4615051818819619181.post-2550377617588313783</id><published>2009-02-03T11:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-03T11:38:59.801-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bible story'/><title type='text'>Sunday Day School Re-Told</title><content type='html'>This will be a weekly post.  These are the Bible stories Gabe is being taught at &lt;a href="http://surfsidekids.org/"&gt;Surfside Kids&lt;/a&gt; on Sunday mornings.  We always ask him about what he learned and talk it through with him.  The initial re-telling is always hilarious.  He always seems to get "the bottom line" though.  =)  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Jesus Calms The Storm&lt;br /&gt;as retold by Gabe &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Jesus was on a boat with a lot of guys. But it didn't have a motor. So they rowed and they rowed and they rowed. And then there was lighting, and thunder and a LOT of wind and they got REALLY scared. So they went down the stairs and woke up baby Jesus and he said, "Guys, RELAX!!!" and he got a piece of tape and fixed the boat. Then they weren't scared anymore. "&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4615051818819619181-2550377617588313783?l=gabeisms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/feeds/2550377617588313783/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2009/02/sunday-day-school-re-told.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/2550377617588313783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/2550377617588313783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2009/02/sunday-day-school-re-told.html' title='Sunday Day School Re-Told'/><author><name>Windy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00011581443222895666</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/TEY_2eY9W7I/AAAAAAAAAVA/ytxaTcIwr5o/S220/37468_416676852725_169978762725_4552868_4422020_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4615051818819619181.post-3408516285634524743</id><published>2009-02-03T10:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-03T11:03:29.800-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='president'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gabeisms'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='barack obama'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='racism'/><title type='text'>Barack Obama</title><content type='html'>The setting: Driving home from pre school&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gabe:  Mom, I thought you said John McCain was going to be President.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Well, Gabe... that's the great thing about America.  Whoever gets more votes gets to be President.  It's called democracy.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gabe:  So Oh-rock Obama is our president now? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Yup.  BAH-rock Obama is our president.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gabe: But I liked John McCain. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:  Why? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gabe: Because he isn't black.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: (in my head) *oh my gosh, we HAVE to get the stank out of this hick-town fast! Why is my son racist? Quick Windy, make more black friends!*   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: out loud-  Why don't you like black people Gabe?  Mr. Jim is black, you love Mr. Jim right? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gabe:  Yup.  I love Mr. Jim.  Can we go to Ms. Laura's for lunch?  (Mr. Jim's wife)  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:  Hey Gabe, did you think Mommy and Daddy didn't like Barack Obama because he was black? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gabe: Ummm.... No?? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:  Because we love black people.  We love all people, all colors.   And the reason we voted for John McCain was because we agreed with him on more things.  But now that Barack is our president we have to love and accept him.  And pray for him at night.  He's got a tough job.  Can you remind Mommy to pray for Barack Obama tonight at bed time? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gabe:  Yup.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He remembered too.  He always remembers.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4615051818819619181-3408516285634524743?l=gabeisms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/feeds/3408516285634524743/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2009/02/barack-obama.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/3408516285634524743'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/3408516285634524743'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2009/02/barack-obama.html' title='Barack Obama'/><author><name>Windy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00011581443222895666</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/TEY_2eY9W7I/AAAAAAAAAVA/ytxaTcIwr5o/S220/37468_416676852725_169978762725_4552868_4422020_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4615051818819619181.post-8462668197935808694</id><published>2009-02-03T10:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-03T11:09:06.687-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='introduction'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gabeisms'/><title type='text'>Gabeisms</title><content type='html'>I love the way a new, fresh 4 year old's brain functions.  I love the silly reasoning.  This blog is dedicated to journaling the funny, adorable, hilarious and silly things my 4 year old says, because otherwise I will never remember this priceless phase of his life in my tired, weary brain.  I hope someday to share this with him ( and possibly future girlfriends too ) as a special gift and peek into his early childhood antics.     Enjoy.  =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4615051818819619181-8462668197935808694?l=gabeisms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/feeds/8462668197935808694/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2009/02/gabeisms.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/8462668197935808694'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4615051818819619181/posts/default/8462668197935808694'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gabeisms.blogspot.com/2009/02/gabeisms.html' title='Gabeisms'/><author><name>Windy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00011581443222895666</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bQA50XGBJss/TEY_2eY9W7I/AAAAAAAAAVA/ytxaTcIwr5o/S220/37468_416676852725_169978762725_4552868_4422020_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
