<?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-6897287536090190633</id><updated>2011-11-23T21:56:40.188-08:00</updated><category term='Candy Land'/><category term='muscles'/><category term='funny'/><category term='graduation'/><category term='Kindergarten roundup'/><category term='Going on vacation'/><category term='tagged'/><category term='No school'/><category term='favor'/><category term='twins'/><category term='riding  his bike'/><category term='art'/><category term='numbness in the leg'/><category term='time management'/><category term='Spend the Night'/><category term='new teacher'/><category term='Building a castle'/><category term='Eating snack'/><category term='Homework'/><category term='being thoughtful'/><category term='Learning other cultures'/><category term='thinking about marriage'/><category term='family'/><category term='Being Cool'/><category term='sun'/><category term='sleeeping habbits'/><category term='desert'/><category term='defining plumber'/><category term='friend'/><category term='cars'/><category term='Being A Diva'/><category term='big boy'/><category term='Pizza Hut'/><category term='making choices'/><category term='Starbucks'/><category term='horses wear shoes'/><category term='Preschool program'/><category term='ideas'/><category term='trying to understand the world'/><category term='about myself'/><category term='Snow Day'/><category term='Picnic'/><category term='play groups'/><category term='Walmart'/><category term='favorite games'/><category term='When I grow up'/><category term='Writing Name'/><category term='Grandparents'/><category term='president'/><category term='Naming objects'/><category term='Book It'/><category term='birthday parties'/><category term='education'/><category term='milestone'/><category term='traffic light'/><category term='Hidden Agenda'/><category term='explanation'/><category term='leg'/><category term='I Want to Wish You A Merry Christmas'/><category term='Back from Hiatus'/><category term='cheaply made toys'/><category term='respecting other cultures'/><category term='Milk and Cookies'/><category term='having fun'/><category term='catching up on current events'/><category term='Subway'/><category term='belly button'/><category term='wearing clothes'/><category term='Kindergarten registration'/><category term='preschool'/><category term='Dunking'/><category term='choosing clothes'/><category term='Moon'/><category term='McDonald&apos;s'/><category term='You&apos;re the best'/><category term='Room Service'/><category term='Chuck E Cheese'/><category term='Apartment living'/><category term='bedbugs'/><category term='age'/><category term='Right and Left'/><category term='Spanish'/><category term='Chocolate nose'/><category term='learning'/><category term='empathy'/><category term='Parental Controls'/><category term='mosquito bites'/><category term='friends'/><category term='kids can be mean'/><category term='Arguments'/><category term='I want be like daddy'/><category term='George W. Bush'/><category term='vacation'/><category term='Nap Time'/><category term='Library'/><category term='Cory in the House'/><category term='Counting'/><category term='careers'/><category term='storytime'/><category term='read books'/><category term='occupations'/><category term='creative arts'/><category term='Christmas Program'/><category term='Milk'/><category term='Quiet Time'/><category term='Spelling words'/><category term='telling jokes'/><category term='Role Reversal'/><category term='Practice'/><category term='Chicken pox'/><category term='cup holder'/><category term='coloring crayons'/><category term='parents read'/><category term='Eating breakfast'/><category term='coffee'/><category term='Dreams'/><category term='Grandma and Grandpa'/><category term='Don&apos;t worry about anyone else'/><category term='Being argumentative'/><category term='questions'/><category term='Chicken Little'/><category term='buttoning pants'/><category term='name changing'/><title type='text'>The World As Seen Through My Child's Eyes</title><subtitle type='html'>Musings and Thoughts Recorded by the Child's Mother, so that the mother can give these memories to her child when he becomes an adult.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>72</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-9207534862162250644</id><published>2009-03-30T19:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T19:28:38.582-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book It'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='read books'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pizza Hut'/><title type='text'>March BOOK IT!</title><content type='html'>Where has the time gone? Although, I haven't posted lately, I will try to do a few times per week. I thought I would start with a list of Son's Book list for March. He is required to read 10 per month, however, we like to fill up the sheet which has rooms for 20 books. We, definitely, continue to read every night even after we submit his list to his teacher. We read about 1-3 books per night at bed time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;The 500 Hats of Bartholomew Cubbins by Dr. Seuss&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The King's Stilts by Dr. Seuss&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Yikes!!! by Robert Florczak&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;How The Grinch Stole Christmas! by Dr. Seuss&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Sam and the Firefly by P.D. Eastman&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Five Little Penguins Slipping on the Ice by Steve Metzger&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Bears on Wheels by Stan and Jan Berenstain&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Curious George Makes Pancakes by Margret and H.A. Rey's&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Curious George by H.A. Reay&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The Foot Book by Dr. Suess&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The Little Engine That Could ABC Time illustrated by Cristina Ong&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Dogs Don't Wear Sneakers by Laura Numeroff&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My First Kwanzaa Book by Deborah M. Newton Chocolate&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Don't Talk to Strangers! by Christine Mehlohaff&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Sixteen Runaway Pumpkins by Dianne Ochiltree&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Night Creatures by Wade Cooper&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Endangered Animals by Elise Forier&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Knuffle Bunny: A Cautionary Tale by Mo Willems&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The Wheels on the School Bus by Mary-Alice Moore&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Going to the Dentist by Anne Civardi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-9207534862162250644?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/9207534862162250644/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=9207534862162250644&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/9207534862162250644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/9207534862162250644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2009/03/march-book-it.html' title='March BOOK IT!'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-9086330511217431685</id><published>2009-03-13T22:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-13T22:18:32.062-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='choosing clothes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='making choices'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wearing clothes'/><title type='text'>Wacky pants</title><content type='html'>Son was looking for pants to wear.  I had told him there were some in his drawers.  He pulls out a pair of pants, and says, "I don't want to wear those wacky pants."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said, "Oh you mean those Khaki pants?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He smiles and says, "Yes."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-9086330511217431685?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/9086330511217431685/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=9086330511217431685&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/9086330511217431685'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/9086330511217431685'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2009/03/wacky-pants.html' title='Wacky pants'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-1002484562265173022</id><published>2009-02-22T19:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-22T19:50:06.294-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book It'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='read books'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pizza Hut'/><title type='text'>February Book IT!</title><content type='html'>Where has the time gone? Although, I haven't posted lately, I will try to do a few times per week. I thought I would start with a list of Son's Book list for February. He is required to read 10 per month, however, we like to fill up the sheet which has rooms for 20 books. We, definitely, continue to read every night even after we submit his list to his teacher. We read about 1-3 books per night at bed time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;Know When to Stop by Valjean McLenighan&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Smoky Night by Eve Bunting&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Dinosaurs Dinners by Lee Davis&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Fox in Socks by Dr. Seuss&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Here are My Hands by Bill Martin Jr. and John Achambault&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Monkey See, Monkey Do by Marc Grave&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Five Little Monkeys Reading in Bed by Eileen Chrisstelow&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;What Moms Can't Do by Douglas Wood&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;What Dads Can't Do by Douglas Wood&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The Bed Time Bear by Ian Whybrow and Axel Scheffler&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Oops, Clifford by Norman Bridwell&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Rain Song by Lezlie Evans&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The Foot Book by Dr. Seuss&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The Nose Book by Al Perkins&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Wings on Things by Marc Brown&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The Wiggles: Lights, Camera Action by Grosset and Dunlap&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Hedgie's Surprise by Jan Brett&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Dinosaurumpus! by Tony Mitton&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Marven of the Great North Woods by Kathryn Lasky&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Valentine by Carol Carrick&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-1002484562265173022?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/1002484562265173022/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=1002484562265173022&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/1002484562265173022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/1002484562265173022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2009/02/february-book-it.html' title='February Book IT!'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-1588320263500730937</id><published>2009-01-21T16:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-21T16:44:23.111-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book It'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='read books'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pizza Hut'/><title type='text'>January's Book IT!</title><content type='html'>Where has the time gone?  Although, I haven't posted lately, I will try to do a few times per week.  I thought I would start with a list of Son's Book list for January.  He is required to read 10 per month, however, we like to fill up the sheet which has rooms for 20 books.  We, definitely, continue to read every night even after we submit his list to his teacher.  We read about 1-3 books per night at bed time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  How Do Dinosaurs Learn to Read?                      Jane Yolen and Mark Teague&lt;br /&gt;2.  Biscuit Finds a Friend                                           Alyssa Satin Capucilli&lt;br /&gt;3.  What Will I Do If I Can't Tie My Shoe                Heidi Kilgras&lt;br /&gt;4.  Tiger Can't Sleep                                                     S.J. Fore&lt;br /&gt;5.  Clifford's Really Big Movie                                     Tisha Hamilton&lt;br /&gt;6.  Click, Clack, Moo Cows That Type                        Doreen Cronin&lt;br /&gt;7.  There Was An Old Lady Who Swallowed A Bat   Lucille Colandro&lt;br /&gt;8.  Dogs Don't Wear Sneakers                                      Laura Numeroff&lt;br /&gt;9.  Your Heart                                                                Melvin &amp;amp; Gilda Berger&lt;br /&gt;10.  Your Bones                                                             Melvin &amp;amp; Gilda Berger&lt;br /&gt;11.  Your Brain                                                               Melvin &amp;amp; Gilda Berger&lt;br /&gt;12.  Bears on Wheels                                                     Stan and Jan Berenstain&lt;br /&gt;13.  The Nose Book                                                        Al Perkins&lt;br /&gt;14.  Great Day For Up                                                    Dr. Seuss&lt;br /&gt;15.    The Foot Book                                                         Dr. Seuss&lt;br /&gt;16.   Winter                                                                      Vic Moors&lt;br /&gt;17.  Three Snow Bears                                                    Jan Brett&lt;br /&gt;18.   The Biggest Snowball Ever                                    John Rogan&lt;br /&gt;19.  Tooth Trouble                                                           Jane Clarke&lt;br /&gt;20.  Curious George                                                            H.A. Rey&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-1588320263500730937?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/1588320263500730937/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=1588320263500730937&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/1588320263500730937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/1588320263500730937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2009/01/januarys-book-it.html' title='January&apos;s Book IT!'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-8955289878234702188</id><published>2008-10-28T13:56:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-28T13:59:13.831-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Don&apos;t worry about anyone else'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Role Reversal'/><title type='text'>What comes around goes around</title><content type='html'>Yesterday, after school when I picked up my son I noticed a female student crying (she was with her mom).  I said to my son, "I wonder why that girl is crying."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Son:  Mommy, don't worry about her. (He said firmly.)  Worry about yourself, me and dad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank God, my son was sitting in his booster seat and he couldn't see my smile.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-8955289878234702188?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/8955289878234702188/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=8955289878234702188&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/8955289878234702188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/8955289878234702188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2008/10/what-comes-around-goes-around.html' title='What comes around goes around'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-6045209878484308614</id><published>2008-10-13T18:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-13T18:41:56.166-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book It'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='read books'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parents read'/><title type='text'>Reading Log: By the Book for Book It!</title><content type='html'>Son finished his readings for the month of October in his Kindergarten class.  He is required to read a minimum of 10 books per month, so he can earn a pizza certificate.  I think this is awesome because the PARENTS might be encouraged to spend reading with their children a few minutes a day at least.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although, Son is required to read a minimum of 10, we try to read at least one-four books per day everyday.  I have decided to keep a log of his books for each BOOK It! Month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;Halloween Party by Linda Shute&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;When I Go to the Supermarket by Jill Harker&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;A Color of His Own by Leo Lionni&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;What Will I do if I Can't Tie My Shoe? by Heidi Kilgras&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Cookie's Week by Cindy Ward&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Fall Colors by Rita Walsh&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Chicka Chicka 1*2*3 by Bill Martin Jr., Michael Sampson, Lois Ehlert&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Five Little Penguins Slipping on the Ice by Steve Metzger&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Best Halloween Book by Pat Whitehead&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Thomas and Gordon by The Rev. W. Awdry&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Thomas' Train by The Rev. W. Awdry&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The Day It Rained Hearts by Felicia Bond&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Scared Silly: A Halloween Treat by James Howe&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Wings on Things by Marc Brown&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The Bear Detectives by Stan and Jan Berenstain&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Rain Song by Lezlie Evans&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Here Are My Hands by Bill Martin Jr. and John Archambault&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Dinosarumpus! by Tony Mitton&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;I would like to keep track of what my son reads for my own benefit as well as his own.  This blog is to be sort of like a memory keeper, so that future generations of our family will enjoy reading this post.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-6045209878484308614?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/6045209878484308614/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=6045209878484308614&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/6045209878484308614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/6045209878484308614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2008/10/reading-log-by-book-for-book-it.html' title='Reading Log: By the Book for Book It!'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-532198983140033765</id><published>2008-10-09T14:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-09T14:36:23.396-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='telling jokes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='funny'/><title type='text'>I am mad at my body!</title><content type='html'>Son declares that he is mad at his body because his body won't let him tell jokes.  "I want to tell jokes, but my body won't let me," he said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked him why not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He replied, "I don't know.  The thing is I just couldn't be funnier now."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-532198983140033765?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/532198983140033765/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=532198983140033765&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/532198983140033765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/532198983140033765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2008/10/i-am-mad-at-my-body.html' title='I am mad at my body!'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-9140927298313517592</id><published>2008-09-25T19:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-25T19:35:17.932-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='creative arts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Homework'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='coloring crayons'/><title type='text'>Throw The White Crayon Out</title><content type='html'>I was sitting down with Son to make sure he was coloring correctly for his homework.  As he dumped the crayons out of the crayon box, he told me, "Mommy, this white crayon doesn't work.  I tried it at school.  Throw it out."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I immediately knew he meant that the white crayon doesn't show on paper.  I explained to him that it is for colored paper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said, "Oh."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-9140927298313517592?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/9140927298313517592/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=9140927298313517592&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/9140927298313517592'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/9140927298313517592'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2008/09/throw-white-crayon-out.html' title='Throw The White Crayon Out'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-846088076240382954</id><published>2008-08-19T21:47:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-19T21:50:03.221-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='education'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='new teacher'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kindergarten roundup'/><title type='text'>Kindergarten Roundup</title><content type='html'>My dear son and I went to Kindergarten roundup today at 8:30 a.m.  My son looked so cute carrying a book bag a little bigger than him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We met his teacher and a few of his classmates.  His teacher went over some rules and expectations of the classroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After we put our things away, it was time to leave.  My son was a little disappointed when we were leaving and said, "Already?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-846088076240382954?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/846088076240382954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=846088076240382954&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/846088076240382954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/846088076240382954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2008/08/kindergarten-roundup.html' title='Kindergarten Roundup'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-8001014461216471058</id><published>2008-06-29T08:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-29T08:26:20.380-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='about myself'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tagged'/><title type='text'>I've Been Tagged!</title><content type='html'>&lt;h3 class="sf_blog_posttitle"&gt;&lt;a href="http://theparentingblog.learnandgrowtogether.com/2008/06/28/i-have-been-tagged.aspx"&gt; &lt;span class="readlink"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;      &lt;div class="sf_blog_entry"&gt;This is blog is about me the mommy, and not my son because I have been tagged to answer some questions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Becka tagged me to play this game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rules of the game: Each player answers the questions themselves. At the end of the post the player then tags 4 people and posts their names, then goes to their blogs and leaves them a comment letting them know that they've been tagged and asking them to read your blog. Let the person who tagged you know when you've posted your answers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ten years ago... I was finishing my college degree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Five things on today's “to do” list...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Work on writing projects&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Give son a bath&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Visit my parents&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Clean  out my car&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Snacks I enjoy... Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups, Ice cream, apples!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things I would do if I was a millionaire... pay off debt, put some into savings, fund child's education, and be a secret Santa!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Places I have lived... Illinois.&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/6897287536090190633-8001014461216471058?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/8001014461216471058/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=8001014461216471058&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/8001014461216471058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/8001014461216471058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2008/06/ive-been-tagged.html' title='I&apos;ve Been Tagged!'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-6528902271541280161</id><published>2008-06-20T20:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-20T20:21:36.387-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='respecting other cultures'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Learning other cultures'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Spanish'/><title type='text'>He is from "Spanish"</title><content type='html'>My son is very aware of different cultures.  He sees that as a part of everyday life.  He thinks cultures are as normal as apple pie.  My husband and I make great effort for our son to appreciate cultures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, my son had a 7 year old cousin come over.  They hadn't seen each other for a very long time.  My son was excited to introduce his cousin with the neighborhood kids. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Son:  Diego and his brothers are Spanish because they speak Spanish and are from Spanish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Son thought Spanish is the name of the town, country or area).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-6528902271541280161?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/6528902271541280161/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=6528902271541280161&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/6528902271541280161'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/6528902271541280161'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2008/06/he-is-from-spanish.html' title='He is from &quot;Spanish&quot;'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-7566929928968492959</id><published>2008-06-19T19:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-19T19:17:29.426-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='creative arts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='being thoughtful'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Building a castle'/><title type='text'>Building a Castle</title><content type='html'>Yesterday was story time for my son at the library.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We arrived a few minutes early, so he could play before story time began.  He was building a castle and I praised him for a job well done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He then knocked it down, and said sweetly, "I am going to build a castle for you, big enough for you to be in."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-7566929928968492959?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/7566929928968492959/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=7566929928968492959&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/7566929928968492959'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/7566929928968492959'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2008/06/building-castle.html' title='Building a Castle'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-3490629100577185619</id><published>2008-06-15T18:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-15T18:56:27.713-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thinking about marriage'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='learning'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Thinking About Marriage</title><content type='html'>My son had asked if my parents were married.  I had told him yes.  He then asked if his dad and I were married.  I said yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then he had a serious look on his face, you could just see his brain was thinking, he said with great concern: "I want to get married.  How will I find her? Where will I find her?!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I then replied, "DS don't worry.  Dad and I will help you find her when it is time to get married."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just a reminder he is only four!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-3490629100577185619?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/3490629100577185619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=3490629100577185619&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/3490629100577185619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/3490629100577185619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2008/06/thinking-about-marriage.html' title='Thinking About Marriage'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-5213333326794099475</id><published>2008-06-05T17:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-05T17:27:10.891-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='defining plumber'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='learning'/><title type='text'>Defining Plumber</title><content type='html'>My husband, son and I were at my parents' home when a plumber was comming to fix pipes and leaks in the bathrooms. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My son said, "Is a plumber the fixer guy?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-5213333326794099475?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/5213333326794099475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=5213333326794099475&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/5213333326794099475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/5213333326794099475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2008/06/defining-plumber.html' title='Defining Plumber'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-988667944674874585</id><published>2008-06-03T18:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T18:23:14.958-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='big boy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='riding  his bike'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='milestone'/><title type='text'>Milestone:  Son learning to ride without training wheels</title><content type='html'>Today, my son has rode his bike without training wheels better.  He stops after going a couple of feet to balance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hubby says that son began practicing since last Sunday, June 1st, 2008.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a milestone because now he rides his bike without training wheels.  Yes, he does wear the helmet, knee and elbow pads.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just wanted to share the excitement!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-988667944674874585?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/988667944674874585/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=988667944674874585&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/988667944674874585'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/988667944674874585'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2008/06/milestone-son-learning-to-ride-without.html' title='Milestone:  Son learning to ride without training wheels'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-6254654242160312182</id><published>2008-05-24T15:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-24T18:05:48.574-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kids can be mean'/><title type='text'>Kids can be mean</title><content type='html'>I have this rule that my son knows about when he is playing outside. He cannot leave the backyard without asking permission if he feels like playing with the neighbor's kids, just so he can learn to be responsible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I happened to notice that he was talking to one of the neighbor's kids over the fence.  I called my son over with an intent to remind him of the rules.  He comes and bursted in anger and tears.  I was totally caught off guard.  He tried to punch and hit me while he was crying.  I immediately took him inside.  He threw the biggest temper tantrum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Through tears, he was telling me the neighbor's kid was being mean, taunting him basically.  The kid told my son that he could never play forever, and the dogs will chase him away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I basically told my son that he is not allowed to go play with the mean kid again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ugh.  How do I protect my kid from the meanness of some?  Any advice?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-6254654242160312182?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/6254654242160312182/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=6254654242160312182&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/6254654242160312182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/6254654242160312182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2008/05/kids-can-be-mean.html' title='Kids can be mean'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-5334204399386031994</id><published>2008-05-22T18:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-22T18:40:34.526-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Graduating Day!</title><content type='html'>My son kept asking is it time for his graduation yet, since 9 a.m.  When the time came to get ready, he was deciding if he should wear his tie loosely with an open collar.  He did not want his shirt buttoned all the way up.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I convinced him that it looked cooler, to button all the way with a tie.  The graduation ceremony was nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After it was all done, he told his dad and I that he is "so proud that school is done and over with."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-5334204399386031994?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/5334204399386031994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=5334204399386031994&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/5334204399386031994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/5334204399386031994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2008/05/graduating-day.html' title='Graduating Day!'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-23451352713024871</id><published>2008-05-21T20:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-21T20:35:48.735-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='graduation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='empathy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><title type='text'>Getting Ready for Graduation</title><content type='html'>Last night, my son and I prepared graduation favor bags for his preschool.  We had stuffed them with candy, pencils and other items.  As we were doing these things, my son said to me, "This is so much fun, mommy!  I love it."  I could tell he meant this from his heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told, "Yes, this is so much fun!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-23451352713024871?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/23451352713024871/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=23451352713024871&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/23451352713024871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/23451352713024871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2008/05/getting-ready-for-graduation.html' title='Getting Ready for Graduation'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-5907887308189377092</id><published>2008-04-26T19:55:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-26T19:59:22.842-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='name changing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='creative arts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ideas'/><title type='text'>Name Changing</title><content type='html'>Last night, my son and I were sitting on the couch when he said, "Mommy, when I am five, I want to change my name to Drake."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Why?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Son:  "It is cool."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "But I love your name it is the coolest name ever."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Son:  "I have an idea.  I will keep three names: H.A., H., and Drake."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "I don't like Drake. I love the your name H."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Son: "You don't like Drake?  Then how about Josh?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-5907887308189377092?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/5907887308189377092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=5907887308189377092&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/5907887308189377092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/5907887308189377092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2008/04/name-changing.html' title='Name Changing'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-6454649608615246193</id><published>2008-04-04T20:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-04T20:16:17.411-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='trying to understand the world'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='learning'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='questions'/><title type='text'>"Why are those the truths?"</title><content type='html'>When my son is told why some things have to be done certain ways, he then asks, "Why are those the truths?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He means, "Why does that have to be that way?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-6454649608615246193?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/6454649608615246193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=6454649608615246193&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/6454649608615246193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/6454649608615246193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2008/04/why-are-those-truths.html' title='&quot;Why are those the truths?&quot;'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-8848674534578928912</id><published>2008-04-03T19:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-03T20:11:58.430-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Eating snack'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='desert'/><title type='text'>Dump Cookies</title><content type='html'>My son said that for snack at preschool he had cookies and "white milk." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Son:  I took the cookies and dumped them into the white milk.  It is sooooo yummy.  I wish you could have had some, mommy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Thank you, dear son.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Son:  I am just joking we had a healthier snack at school, but I do wish I can eat cookies with white milk, so that I can dump them into the milk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My son meant to say "Dunk" instead of "Dump."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-8848674534578928912?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/8848674534578928912/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=8848674534578928912&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/8848674534578928912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/8848674534578928912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2008/04/dump-cookies.html' title='Dump Cookies'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-5431788556677686594</id><published>2008-03-22T23:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-22T23:50:31.336-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='big boy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='buttoning pants'/><title type='text'>Buttoning Pants!</title><content type='html'>Saturday, March 22, 2008, my son has learned to button his pants without any assistance.  He was so excited about his new skill that he either showed or told family members about it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-5431788556677686594?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/5431788556677686594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=5431788556677686594&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/5431788556677686594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/5431788556677686594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2008/03/buttoning-pants.html' title='Buttoning Pants!'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-4340852712082979485</id><published>2008-03-21T19:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-21T19:14:20.480-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Counting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birthday parties'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='age'/><title type='text'>I wanna be 55!</title><content type='html'>My son for the last few days has been saying that he wishes he was 55.  Not 5, but 55.  I asked him why?  He said that because that is a cool number.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told him, "Love, I want you to be four, five, six,..." and I counted up to 55.  Then I added, that I wanted him to live a long, happy, and healthy life, more than 100!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know he doesn't understand the concept of being 55 years old.  I am gonna remind him about this when he becomes older.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-4340852712082979485?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/4340852712082979485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=4340852712082979485&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/4340852712082979485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/4340852712082979485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2008/03/i-wanna-be-55.html' title='I wanna be 55!'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-511480175762775127</id><published>2008-03-17T19:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-17T19:20:56.600-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Room Service'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Apartment living'/><title type='text'>Do They Get Room Service?</title><content type='html'>My son and I were driving past some apartments when he said to me, "Mommy, do those apartments get Room Service?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said no.  They are apartments not hotels.  He had said that because they were huge apartment buildings.  In his view, they looked like hotels, he had seen on television.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-511480175762775127?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/511480175762775127/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=511480175762775127&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/511480175762775127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/511480175762775127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2008/03/do-they-get-room-service.html' title='Do They Get Room Service?'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-6183309049406270146</id><published>2008-03-15T13:47:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-15T13:50:48.800-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Parental Controls'/><title type='text'>Use Parental Controls</title><content type='html'>I have recently installed two different types of parental controls on our computer and television because my son would see things I feel weren't age appropriate and showed too much violence.  (No, I am not a fan of Caillou or Barney either).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, every time he tries to get into Power Rangers and other Cartoon Network cartoons, parental controls on the television and computer kicks in.  He would say, "Computer (or TV) why won't you let me watch Power Rangers!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mommy, the computer (or TV) won't let me watch Power Rangers.  Why not?" he would ask.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would tell him that the computer or TV don't want him to watch bad things.  They will give him bad dreams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He accepts that for now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-6183309049406270146?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/6183309049406270146/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=6183309049406270146&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/6183309049406270146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/6183309049406270146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2008/03/use-parental-controls.html' title='Use Parental Controls'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-1554222377773196770</id><published>2008-03-12T18:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-12T18:46:43.146-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Going on vacation'/><title type='text'>Going to Candyland</title><content type='html'>When I picked my son from preschool, he told me about his day.  One of the things he mentioned was that his friend *Zack* was not in school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said, "Oh really?  Where do you think he is?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My son thought about it and said, "I think they are in Disneyland or wait, maybe &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;even &lt;/span&gt;Candy Land!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-1554222377773196770?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/1554222377773196770/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=1554222377773196770&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/1554222377773196770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/1554222377773196770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2008/03/going-to-candyland.html' title='Going to Candyland'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-7704321102155379448</id><published>2008-03-11T20:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-11T21:10:45.152-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Counting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dreams'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bedbugs'/><title type='text'>Counting, Now Doing It Four Times, and Bedbugs</title><content type='html'>Counting:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My is proud that he can count to 50-10.  My husband and I say, "Oh you can count up to 60?  Wow!"  He then replies, "I like to see 50-10 better."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Used to be four, now it has to be five times:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Usually, my son likes to do some activities four times because he is four.  Now, when he wants his dad to play with him a little longer, he will say say "Five times because I am going to be five."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bedbugs:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight, as I tucked my son into bed, I told him, "Happy Dreams."  Then he told me, "Don't forget to say don't let the bedbugs bite!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I said, "don't let the bedbugs bite."  Then he got a serious face and said, "Mommy how do you stop the bedbugs from biting?  Do you kick them?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I said, "Don't worry.  They will not hurt you."&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/6897287536090190633-7704321102155379448?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/7704321102155379448/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=7704321102155379448&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/7704321102155379448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/7704321102155379448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2008/03/counting-now-doing-it-four-times-and.html' title='Counting, Now Doing It Four Times, and Bedbugs'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-2368434502327705360</id><published>2008-03-03T18:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-03T18:22:52.703-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chuck E Cheese'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birthday parties'/><title type='text'>Birthday at Chuck E Cheeses</title><content type='html'>I was telling my son that his father's birthday is this Wednesday and his aunt, my sister, has her birthday on Friday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My son said, "Awesome!  Is *aunt* is going to have her birthday at Chuck E Cheeses?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I replied back, "Why don't you ask her?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-2368434502327705360?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/2368434502327705360/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=2368434502327705360&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/2368434502327705360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/2368434502327705360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2008/03/birthday-at-chuck-e-cheeses.html' title='Birthday at Chuck E Cheeses'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-3066132175458349167</id><published>2008-02-29T18:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-29T18:12:28.769-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Right and Left'/><title type='text'>Right and Left</title><content type='html'>Today, I was explaining to my son, that people are either left handed or right handed.  I told him that he is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;left handed&lt;/span&gt; because he uses his left hand more than his right, just like his uncles.  I also explained to him that I am &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;right handed&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He then asked me, "Is dad &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;right handed&lt;/span&gt; or &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;wrong handed&lt;/span&gt;?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-3066132175458349167?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/3066132175458349167/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=3066132175458349167&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/3066132175458349167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/3066132175458349167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2008/02/right-and-left.html' title='Right and Left'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-8879778513359045531</id><published>2008-02-16T13:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-29T18:13:13.008-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='I want be like daddy'/><title type='text'>I want to be like you!</title><content type='html'>Today my son and his dad were snacking. My son asked his dad all sorts of questions. He then told him, "I want to be a daddy like you. I want to copy like you. I want to grow your size." My husband was touched. He said, "God willing, you will one day."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I giggled at what my son had said.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-8879778513359045531?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/8879778513359045531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=8879778513359045531&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/8879778513359045531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/8879778513359045531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2008/02/i-want-to-be-like-you.html' title='I want to be like you!'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-2309305207402558208</id><published>2008-02-09T18:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-09T18:28:28.547-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kindergarten registration'/><title type='text'>Registering for Kindergarten</title><content type='html'>It is almost that time.  Time to register my son for Kindergarten.  I can't believe it.  He still seems like a baby to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is so ready, but I don't know if I am.  He keeps telling everyone that when he is five he is going to Kindergarten, "Big kids school".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Registration is at the end of this month.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-2309305207402558208?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/2309305207402558208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=2309305207402558208&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/2309305207402558208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/2309305207402558208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2008/02/registering-for-kindergarten.html' title='Registering for Kindergarten'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-7874712058517939321</id><published>2008-02-06T20:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-06T20:16:20.276-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Snow Day'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='No school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='preschool'/><title type='text'>Snow Day,  But....</title><content type='html'>Today was a snow day for schools because of up to 15 inches of snow.  I was happy because I had a day off from work.  However, my son was not happy.  He moaned and groaned, and asked, "WHY, don't we have school?!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was surprised because I have never seen anyone be upset about a snow day, especially a four year old student. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I managed to keep him preoccupied throughout the day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-7874712058517939321?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/7874712058517939321/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=7874712058517939321&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/7874712058517939321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/7874712058517939321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2008/02/snow-day-but.html' title='Snow Day,  But....'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-8821062690592434140</id><published>2008-02-05T21:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-05T21:16:57.126-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='explanation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Being Cool'/><title type='text'>"I know I am Cool"</title><content type='html'>I was going to post yesterday, but I fell asleep--I guess I was exhausted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom bought my son some very nice clothes as a gift.  He wore them to school yesterday.  After returned from school, my husband asks him, "Did your friends say, 'You look cool'?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Son looked at his dad and said, "I am cool.  I don't need my friends to say I am cool."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There you go world.  He just proved to me that he is not a follower! I hope and pray that it stays this way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-8821062690592434140?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/8821062690592434140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=8821062690592434140&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/8821062690592434140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/8821062690592434140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2008/02/i-know-i-am-cool.html' title='&quot;I know I am Cool&quot;'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-8294901470831312906</id><published>2008-02-03T20:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-03T20:49:19.191-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Grandma and Grandpa'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Spend the Night'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Naming objects'/><title type='text'>Sleeping at Grandma's and Grandpa's house, Naming a flower</title><content type='html'>My son spent the night, last night, without us at my parents' house.  That was his very first time to be away from us.  The reason why let him spend the night because we didn't want to carry him out in the cold.  He did pretty well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As my son and I looked through photos, he pointed to a cactus in the photo.  He said, "I remember that type of flower.  That is the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Hurt Flower&lt;/span&gt; that is when I had hurted myself when I was three trying to get the balloon away from that!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-8294901470831312906?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/8294901470831312906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=8294901470831312906&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/8294901470831312906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/8294901470831312906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2008/02/sleeping-at-grandmas-and-grandpas-house.html' title='Sleeping at Grandma&apos;s and Grandpa&apos;s house, Naming a flower'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-7823301633713776795</id><published>2008-01-31T21:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-31T21:13:20.178-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='having fun'/><title type='text'>When my mommy is happy...</title><content type='html'>A friend of mine told me that my son yesterday had told her, "When my mommy is happy, she eats me!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then her son replied, "My mommy is never happy!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend and I both laughed at what they had said.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-7823301633713776795?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/7823301633713776795/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=7823301633713776795&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/7823301633713776795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/7823301633713776795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2008/01/when-my-mommy-is-happy.html' title='When my mommy is happy...'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-3237241604422520245</id><published>2008-01-18T18:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-18T18:51:09.834-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Library'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Homework'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='preschool'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Role Reversal'/><title type='text'>On Our Way to Preschool, Homework and the Library Card</title><content type='html'>On the days I take my son to preschool, I always go over the same rules (so poor guy hears this three times per week for the time he started preschool at 3).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, we were running late, about the exact same spot where I always remind him about the rules, my son jumped in and listed the rules.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said, "I need to listen to my teachers.  Be nice to my teachers and friends.  Share with my teachers and friends.  I need to do art activities, and  I know I will do a good job."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I smiled.  I told him, "Very good my cutie-pie!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, my son got his first homework as a four year old preschooler.  He will be working writing his name (he already knows the letters and recognizes them) and letters.  We will be working with him this weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I was at the library, I updated my library card, and then I asked the librarian if my son was old enough to get his library card.  She said he was as long as I understood that I, the parent, would take full responsibilities for overdue books and so forth.  I got my son a library card.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told him about it.  He was excited.  Tomorrow, I will show it to him.  I didn't have a chance today because we were getting caught up with household activities.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-3237241604422520245?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/3237241604422520245/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=3237241604422520245&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/3237241604422520245'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/3237241604422520245'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2008/01/on-our-way-to-preschool-homework-and.html' title='On Our Way to Preschool, Homework and the Library Card'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-4000529124790190594</id><published>2008-01-17T20:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-17T20:34:30.419-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Spelling words'/><title type='text'>Spelling words</title><content type='html'>My son has been spelling more words lately and now trying to sound it out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so excited because he seems eager to learn.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-4000529124790190594?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/4000529124790190594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=4000529124790190594&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/4000529124790190594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/4000529124790190594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2008/01/spelling-words.html' title='Spelling words'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-3958947910037553192</id><published>2008-01-16T20:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-16T20:52:58.545-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Candy Land'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='favorite games'/><title type='text'>It is YOUR favorite game!</title><content type='html'>My son was excited when his dad came early from work because that meant they would spend some time together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My son went to his room and got the game Candy Land out.  He quietly walked into the living room hiding the game behind his back.  He told me that he was going to play this game with daddy (because my son knows that I don't play games at night because it is 'resting' time).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My son said to his dad, "We will be playing YOUR favorite game, Candy Land."  His dad told him, "After I am done eating, I will play with you."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-3958947910037553192?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/3958947910037553192/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=3958947910037553192&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/3958947910037553192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/3958947910037553192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2008/01/it-is-your-favorite-game.html' title='It is YOUR favorite game!'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-7478574121612738022</id><published>2008-01-15T20:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-15T21:02:23.956-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cup holder'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='coffee'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Starbucks'/><title type='text'>Putting my cup in my "Cup Folder"</title><content type='html'>Today, my dad, son and myself stopped by Starbucks to grab some coffee and chocolate milk.  My son loves his chocolate milk in small-kid sized cups like the grownups.  I was telling my dad that he could put his coffee in the cup holder since there was only one between the driver and passenger seats.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My son said, "Mommy, I am going to put my drink in my cup folder."  I smiled.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-7478574121612738022?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/7478574121612738022/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=7478574121612738022&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/7478574121612738022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/7478574121612738022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2008/01/putting-my-cup-in-my-cup-folder.html' title='Putting my cup in my &quot;Cup Folder&quot;'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-2609319721110840082</id><published>2008-01-14T22:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-14T22:39:25.641-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Picnic'/><title type='text'>Is that a pignick?</title><content type='html'>My son and I were watching a commercial on television when he asked me, "Mommy, are they on a pignic?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked him to repeat his question.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said, "Are they on a pignic?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I smiled and said, "It's called a picnic." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He smiled and said, "Pignic. Picnic.  I like pignic better."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-2609319721110840082?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/2609319721110840082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=2609319721110840082&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/2609319721110840082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/2609319721110840082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2008/01/is-that-pignick.html' title='Is that a pignick?'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-4850612988098971934</id><published>2008-01-09T18:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-09T18:07:46.024-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dreams'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vacation'/><title type='text'>Took a few days off, "I had a Good Dream"</title><content type='html'>I want to apologize for not blogging for the last few days, my family and I have been on a little vacation, and now I am ready for things to get back to "normal"--whatever that is!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two days ago, my son says to me, "Mommy, did we go to the park yesterday?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said, "No, son (because it is winter time). Why?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Son: "Oh, then it was a dream.  Mommy, I dreamed a good dream.  I dreamed we went to the park, played and had fun!  What a good dream!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My son does remember his dreams because he tells me the what he dreamt first thing when he wakes up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-4850612988098971934?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/4850612988098971934/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=4850612988098971934&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/4850612988098971934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/4850612988098971934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2008/01/took-few-days-off-i-had-good-dream.html' title='Took a few days off, &quot;I had a Good Dream&quot;'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-7289177129534460472</id><published>2008-01-03T19:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-03T19:18:59.950-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='careers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ideas'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='When I grow up'/><title type='text'>Why Don't You Be...</title><content type='html'>Today, my son and I visited some friends.  My friend's nephew was there as well.  He is 13 years old and very energetic.  So I was asking him what he would like to study when he gets older, the 13-year-old said, "I am not sure yet. I might be a lawyer or a ..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My son interrupts and said, "Why not be a doctor?  I think you should be a doctor."  I smiled at my son's suggestion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The 13-year-old said, "I was thinking that too.  A lawyer or a doctor."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-7289177129534460472?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/7289177129534460472/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=7289177129534460472&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/7289177129534460472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/7289177129534460472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2008/01/why-dont-you-be.html' title='Why Don&apos;t You Be...'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-4474428528155934849</id><published>2008-01-02T13:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-02T13:33:17.001-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Nap Time'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sleeeping habbits'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Quiet Time'/><title type='text'>My Son and Quiet Time</title><content type='html'>My son and quiet time do not go together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He dislikes resting and sleeping.  He will fight and whine about why he has to do it "all day."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ask him, "You mean everyday?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, in hopes of having some time to myself, I told him he would have quiet time instead of nap time.  With quiet time, he can lay on the couch watching TV quietly.  No getting up.  No going to the bathroom.  He has to lay there quietly for about one hour to one hour and a half.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although, he does get sleepy, he WILL not sleep during the day.  You think he is a good sleeper at night?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hah!  That is another post for another day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-4474428528155934849?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/4474428528155934849/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=4474428528155934849&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/4474428528155934849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/4474428528155934849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2008/01/my-son-and-quiet-time.html' title='My Son and Quiet Time'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-3903263444049984880</id><published>2008-01-01T17:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-01T17:20:53.270-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Grandma and Grandpa'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birthday parties'/><title type='text'>Grandpa's Birthday Party</title><content type='html'>We were snowed in today that my husband, my son or myself could not drive our vehicle.  So, instead we called my parents told them that we couldn't be coming.  My parents said it was too cold to come anyways, and that maybe tomorrow or some other day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, my son wanted to go today because it is my dad's birthday.  He told my husband that he wanted to call my mom, to see if someone could pick him and my husband up (I was staying home because it is too cold for me).  My mom was so touched when she heard my son on the other line.  He innocently and sweetly said, "Grandma, I don't want to miss grandpa's birthday because I have a present for him.  Can someone pick us up?"  She ended up sending my brother to pick up my son and husband.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boy, was my son a happy camper!  I stayed home and got caught up with my tasks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-3903263444049984880?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/3903263444049984880/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=3903263444049984880&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/3903263444049984880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/3903263444049984880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2008/01/grandpas-birthday-party.html' title='Grandpa&apos;s Birthday Party'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-1699572533046656006</id><published>2007-12-31T21:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-31T21:23:01.681-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='I want be like daddy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twins'/><title type='text'>I Want To Be Like Daddy!</title><content type='html'>Yesterday, my son and I were talking.  He &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;confidently&lt;/span&gt; says, "When I grow up, I want to be like daddy!  I want to be as tall as him, act like him, so we can be twins."  He smiles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I giggle.  I asked him, "Twins?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He thought about it for a second and said, "We can't be twins.  I will just be as tall as him."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it is pretty cool how he looks up to his father, who is a wonderful husband as well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-1699572533046656006?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/1699572533046656006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=1699572533046656006&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/1699572533046656006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/1699572533046656006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2007/12/i-want-to-be-like-daddy.html' title='I Want To Be Like Daddy!'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-5210261115053174959</id><published>2007-12-29T20:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-29T20:10:38.510-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='having fun'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='McDonald&apos;s'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friend'/><title type='text'>Having Fun</title><content type='html'>We went over to a friend's house, and then later took them to McDonald's to eat and play because it was too cold to play outside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My son who is just beginning to have a cough played till his heart content.  When we were home, I asked him if he had fun as he changed into his pajamas.  He looked like he was ready for bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said, "I had a little bit of fun because now I am sleepy."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-5210261115053174959?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/5210261115053174959/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=5210261115053174959&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/5210261115053174959'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/5210261115053174959'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2007/12/having-fun.html' title='Having Fun'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-5481010541081582484</id><published>2007-12-28T18:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-28T18:57:02.610-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Practice'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Writing Name'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='preschool'/><title type='text'>Milestone: Writing Name</title><content type='html'>Today, my son wrote his name not clearly, but if you looked carefully you can tell it is his name.  I know for a fact that his preschool has been working hard on practicing writing their names. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lucky for him, he has a short last name, unlike some of his classmates who have double consonants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just thought I'd share that he wrote his name!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-5481010541081582484?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/5481010541081582484/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=5481010541081582484&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/5481010541081582484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/5481010541081582484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2007/12/milestone-writing-name.html' title='Milestone: Writing Name'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-4667017161596256388</id><published>2007-12-27T20:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-27T20:17:12.503-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chicken Little'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='storytime'/><title type='text'>The Story of Chicken Little and its ending</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;POSSIBLE SPOILER: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I read the story "Chicken Little" to my son last night during bed time.  He was listening very carefully.  He even repeated the animals that went with Chicken Little to report to the king that the sky was falling. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was rooting them on their journey. He was expecting a happy ending because all the other books had happy endings.  He is at a stage where he assumes the ending is always good no matter what.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we read the last page, saying that the fox had eaten all of them. My son was EXTREMELY disappointed that it caught me off guard.  He said to me, "What happened to the animals?  Did the fox &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;really&lt;/span&gt; eat them or just pretend?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I saw the disappointment and I knew it was going to bother him, I said a fib.  I told him, "The fox and the other animals are playing hide and seek."  He believed it and felt better by saying, "Ohhhhhhhh, Ok.  What silly animals!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-4667017161596256388?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/4667017161596256388/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=4667017161596256388&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/4667017161596256388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/4667017161596256388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2007/12/story-of-chicken-little-and-its-ending.html' title='The Story of Chicken Little and its ending'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-3242176741983972372</id><published>2007-12-26T17:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-26T17:13:35.560-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Subway'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Role Reversal'/><title type='text'>Role Reversal</title><content type='html'>The weather was excellent considering it is still winter (most of the snow melted in the Midwest in the U.S.), so my son son and I ran some errands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the errands was stopping at Subway to order sandwiches.  My son said to me, "Are you sure we should order?  We have better food at home than Subway."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I smiled at his comment (I really wanted to giggle). I told him, "Sure we have better food at home, but I think is a good day to get some Sub sandwiches."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My son replied, "True, today is a good day to get Sub sandwiches."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-3242176741983972372?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/3242176741983972372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=3242176741983972372&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/3242176741983972372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/3242176741983972372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2007/12/role-reversal.html' title='Role Reversal'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-6318129292701463122</id><published>2007-12-25T20:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-25T20:35:12.986-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Milk and Cookies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Milk'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dunking'/><title type='text'>Milk and Cookies</title><content type='html'>My son said, "Mommy, I would like some milk and cookies so that I can dump my cookies in the milk."  He was requesting milk and cookies for snack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At first, I did not know what he meant when he said "dump my cookies in the milk."  Then it hit me, that he meant "dunk".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I smiled at my son and said,"Oh OK, so you would like some milk and cookies to dunk?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said, "Yup."  And smiled.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-6318129292701463122?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/6318129292701463122/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=6318129292701463122&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/6318129292701463122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/6318129292701463122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2007/12/milk-and-cookies.html' title='Milk and Cookies'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-896325331416833807</id><published>2007-12-24T19:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-24T19:28:19.950-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Grandma and Grandpa'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Spend the Night'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Grandparents'/><title type='text'>Idea of Spending the Night</title><content type='html'>Last night, my husband, son and I spent the night at my parents' house because it was&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a.  too cold outside, with winds more than 50 miles per hour.&lt;br /&gt;b.  too late to go home (it was 12:30 a.m.).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The  next day, my son woke up excited because he realized that he was still at grandma and grandpa's home.  "Wow, daddy.  I would like to spend the night again," my son tell his dad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad:  "Well, you can sleep tonight at your grandparents'."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Son:  "What about you and mommy?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad:  "No.  You would spend the night by alone at grandma and grandpa's."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Son:  "No, that is ok.  I want to sleep with you guys."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-896325331416833807?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/896325331416833807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=896325331416833807&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/896325331416833807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/896325331416833807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2007/12/idea-of-spending-night.html' title='Idea of Spending the Night'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-2983602194596699542</id><published>2007-12-21T18:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-21T18:25:51.911-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Being A Diva'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christmas Program'/><title type='text'>Being A Diva</title><content type='html'>Today was my son's Christmas program at his preschool at 10:45 a.m., however I was meeting some friends for morning coffee when I asked them if they would like to come and watch my son and his class perform.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One said yes.  We arrived about 10 minutes late to the program.  It was cute.  The kids were acting and singing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After it was over, one of the moms came up to me and said, "Your son didn't want to participate because you hadn't come yet.  It was so cute.  He stood there with his arms folded, saying 'I'm not going to sing because my mommy is not here yet to see me sing.  Mrs. Teacher said to him, 'your mom will be here soon.'"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I smiled.  I gave my son a hug, complimenting on his performance.  Then I asked him if he didn't participate in the beginning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said, "Yes because you didn't come, and then I participated because I was just joking!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-2983602194596699542?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/2983602194596699542/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=2983602194596699542&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/2983602194596699542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/2983602194596699542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2007/12/being-diva.html' title='Being A Diva'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-8545957196507124492</id><published>2007-12-20T12:59:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-20T13:01:34.956-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='leg'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='numbness in the leg'/><title type='text'>Wake Up, Leg!</title><content type='html'>I was sitting at the computer when I had mentioned to my son that my leg was asleep.  He was sitting at his own toy computer next to mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I moved my leg, I groaned a little because of the numbness.  My son said to me, "I can't wake up my leg.  It is asleep."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Wake up leg,"  my son said as he moved his leg.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-8545957196507124492?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/8545957196507124492/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=8545957196507124492&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/8545957196507124492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/8545957196507124492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2007/12/wake-up-leg.html' title='Wake Up, Leg!'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-4632585811096930625</id><published>2007-12-18T16:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-18T16:17:25.955-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='time management'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='play groups'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='McDonald&apos;s'/><title type='text'>Today at McDonald's</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v636/JaquezBlaze/arch.jpg" border="0" alt="Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;My son and I were expecting some friends over today, but they had canceled at last minute.  My poor son was waiting patiently for his play friend, and I had to gently break the news that they canceled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He took it rather well.  As a reward, I told him that I would take him to McDonald's, so that he can use some of his energy since it was too cold to play outside.  We went to McDonald's after I had called a couple of my coffee friends to meet me there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When my son was finished playing, he said to me, "I am ready for lunch now."  I had told him to wait another five minutes because it wasn't lunch yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said, "Mommy, if I play the minutes will go faster, right?"  I nodded, and off he went to play as my coffee friends and I smiled at his comment.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-4632585811096930625?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/4632585811096930625/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=4632585811096930625&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/4632585811096930625'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/4632585811096930625'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2007/12/today-at-mcdonalds.html' title='Today at McDonald&apos;s'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-6128070473162629813</id><published>2007-12-17T20:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-17T20:16:03.918-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='creative arts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='art'/><title type='text'>Doing Art Activities</title><content type='html'>"Mommy, I did an art activity today," my son said proudly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Good for you!" I said.  "What kind of art did you do?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said, "Hmm...I am not sure--either an apple or a pineapple. I have an idea.  I will ask my teacher when I go back to school!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-6128070473162629813?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/6128070473162629813/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=6128070473162629813&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/6128070473162629813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/6128070473162629813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2007/12/doing-art-activities.html' title='Doing Art Activities'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-8977881041945304655</id><published>2007-12-14T18:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-14T18:36:57.719-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chocolate nose'/><title type='text'>Chocolate Nose</title><content type='html'>My son and I went visit my parents and siblings.  My brother who is a little kid at heart loves my son to pieces.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My brother and son were hanging out in his bedroom.  My brother comes out laughing.  He tells me, "Listen to this."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He turns to pointing to his own nose, to my son pointing and asks, "What is that spot on my nose?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My son asks in a serious tone, "Do you  have chocolate on your nose?"  The spot on my brother's nose was a little dark cut.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, it wasn't from chocolate--but a cut from an icicle that hit him on the nose.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-8977881041945304655?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/8977881041945304655/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=8977881041945304655&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/8977881041945304655'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/8977881041945304655'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2007/12/chocolate-nose.html' title='Chocolate Nose'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-4245598002416744790</id><published>2007-12-13T18:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-13T18:23:44.677-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='horses wear shoes'/><title type='text'>Horses wear shoes</title><content type='html'>"Mommy, horses wear shoes just like us!" my son said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"They do," I said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"They wear shoes so their feet won't get hurt," my son said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I immediately thought a learning experience, so I told him, "That is why we always wear shoes when we are out, right?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said, "Yes."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, he will remember this and will want to wear shoes when he is outside!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-4245598002416744790?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/4245598002416744790/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=4245598002416744790&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/4245598002416744790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/4245598002416744790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2007/12/horses-wear-shoes.html' title='Horses wear shoes'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-5534444337383694665</id><published>2007-12-11T08:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-11T08:21:26.117-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='You&apos;re the best'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Eating breakfast'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hidden Agenda'/><title type='text'>Hidden Agenda</title><content type='html'>We were eating breakfast, when my son said to me, "Mommy, you're the best!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said to my son, "Aaaw.  Thanks.  You're the best, too!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Can you please give me a glass of water to drink?" he asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My son gave me a compliment first, then asked for a favor (lol).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-5534444337383694665?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/5534444337383694665/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=5534444337383694665&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/5534444337383694665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/5534444337383694665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2007/12/hidden-agenda.html' title='Hidden Agenda'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-1596474218478589049</id><published>2007-12-10T17:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-10T17:30:40.816-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friend'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='catching up on current events'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='preschool'/><title type='text'>Catching Up On Current Events</title><content type='html'>Today, I had agreed to pick my my son's friend from preschool when I picked up my son to help some friends out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we were driving to my son's grandparents' home for a quick errand, I overheard the conversation between my son and his friend.  It was so cute because to me it was the "adult" version of catching up on current events, I smiled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here goes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Son&lt;/span&gt;:  You and I are going to my grandparents' house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Friend&lt;/span&gt;:  Oh yeah,  my grandparents live here (meaning in town).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Son&lt;/span&gt;:  Where do they live?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Friend&lt;/span&gt;(did not point at all):  You turn left here, then you have pass something, and then you are there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We just passed a construction site for a new &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Walgreen&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Son&lt;/span&gt;:  Over there, they are building...what are they building again mommy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I&lt;/span&gt;:  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Walgreen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Son:  &lt;/span&gt;Oh yeah, a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Walgreen&lt;/span&gt;.  It is a store.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Friend:  &lt;/span&gt;I know that already.  It is going to be cool.  I have been to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Walgreen&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's just say that my son and his friend had a great time playing and eating lunch and dinner together.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-1596474218478589049?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/1596474218478589049/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=1596474218478589049&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/1596474218478589049'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/1596474218478589049'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2007/12/catching-up-on-current-events.html' title='Catching Up On Current Events'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-8422046845631808398</id><published>2007-12-07T18:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-07T18:30:26.236-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='I Want to Wish You A Merry Christmas'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Preschool program'/><title type='text'>Feliz Navidad!</title><content type='html'>My son sang this version of "I Want To Wish You A Merry Christmas!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I want to wish you a Merry Christmas.  I want to wish you a Merry Christmas.  Feliz Navidad.  Feliz Navidad.  From the heaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaart!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked him if he knew what Feliz Navidad meant.  He said "From the heart."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is learning this song for a Christmas program at preschool.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-8422046845631808398?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/8422046845631808398/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=8422046845631808398&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/8422046845631808398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/8422046845631808398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2007/12/feliz-navidad.html' title='Feliz Navidad!'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-4310847446331339768</id><published>2007-12-06T19:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-06T19:53:29.671-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Being argumentative'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Arguments'/><title type='text'>Stop Arguing With Me!</title><content type='html'>Today, I told my son to "Stop arguing with me."  He is known to do that, argue until he gets his way which is not very often.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I kept telling him that he cannot wear &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;tank-top&lt;/span&gt; to bed in the middle of winter, he tells me in a strict voice, "Mommy, stop arguing with me!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-4310847446331339768?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/4310847446331339768/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=4310847446331339768&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/4310847446331339768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/4310847446331339768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2007/12/you-did-not-buy-me-anythin.html' title='Stop Arguing With Me!'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-4519898414407052264</id><published>2007-12-05T22:00:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-05T22:02:39.341-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='belly button'/><title type='text'>That is Your Body Button!</title><content type='html'>My son and I were naming body parts.  He is into trying to remember them all.  Before he pointed to the next body part, he said, "That is your body button!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked him what he said again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Your body button."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh," I said laughing.  "That is your &lt;em&gt;belly button&lt;/em&gt;!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He laughed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-4519898414407052264?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/4519898414407052264/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=4519898414407052264&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/4519898414407052264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/4519898414407052264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2007/12/that-is-your-body-button.html' title='That is Your Body Button!'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-8809047512012429640</id><published>2007-12-04T17:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-04T18:11:54.978-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cars'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='muscles'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cheaply made toys'/><title type='text'>Those Cars Don't Have Muscles</title><content type='html'>My son and I bought two cheaply made big plastic cars that cost $1 each, from our local retail store.  Although, I hate those cheaply made toys, I want my son to make his own decisions to a certain extent. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Within minutes of  playing with those cars, they broke.  I told my son that it was the last time we would buy those kinds of toys.  I added, "They are not strong enough."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My son said, "Mommy, you're right.  These cars don't have muscles."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-8809047512012429640?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/8809047512012429640/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=8809047512012429640&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/8809047512012429640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/8809047512012429640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2007/12/those-cars-dont-have-muscles.html' title='Those Cars Don&apos;t Have Muscles'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-819634780010523268</id><published>2007-12-03T19:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-03T20:02:29.100-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='creative arts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='art'/><title type='text'>Art Makes Me Wild A Little Bit</title><content type='html'>As I took my son to preschool, I reminded him that he has to do an art activity if there is one because his teacher had told me that he does not like or want to do art.  I explained to her that he wants to play.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My son said, "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;OK&lt;/span&gt; mommy, but I want you to know that art makes me wild a little bit."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-819634780010523268?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/819634780010523268/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=819634780010523268&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/819634780010523268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/819634780010523268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2007/12/art-makes-me-wild-little-bit.html' title='Art Makes Me Wild A Little Bit'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-7426956661706056649</id><published>2007-12-01T18:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-01T18:25:44.766-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='George W. Bush'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='president'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cory in the House'/><title type='text'>All Presidents Wear Little Flags On Their Suits</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i227.photobucket.com/albums/dd11/educator4ever/georgebush.jpg" border="0" alt="Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"All presidents wear little flags on their suits," my son said as a matter of fact.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See what happened was yesterday, I was skimming though the latest of Time Magazine.  As I was skimming a page with U.S. president George W. Bush, my son points to him and asks, "Mommy, is that the president?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My eyes became huge and my mouth dropped open.  I asked him to repeat what he had asked.  He asked "Is that the president?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I laughed a little bit, and I said yes.  I also asked him how did he know that was the president? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He replied, "All presidents wear little flags on their suits--just like the president on Cory in the House!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-7426956661706056649?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/7426956661706056649/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=7426956661706056649&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/7426956661706056649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/7426956661706056649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2007/12/all-presidents-wear-little-flags-on.html' title='All Presidents Wear Little Flags On Their Suits'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-2913851362121212347</id><published>2007-11-28T19:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-28T21:20:33.099-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='occupations'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Walmart'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='When I grow up'/><title type='text'>Hmmm...What Do I Want To Be When I Grow Up?</title><content type='html'>I had taken my dad to the doctor's office.  My son went with us.  He was asking me to explain a poster that was hanging up in the doctor's office.  I explained to him that was a kidney, lung, heart, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I had asked him in front of my dad, if he was planning to be a doctor.  He said, "No, I want to be a chef.  No, I want to be like you or my daddy."  I told him that I was a teacher.  He then asked what did daddy do.  I told him, he was a forklift driver. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I then asked him, "What if daddy doesn't want you to be a forklift driver?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He thought about for one second, and then replied, "I will then be a Walmart guy."  I continued to ask him what if his dad said no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Determined and confident, my son replied, "Then I will be a Super-Walmart guy."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-2913851362121212347?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/2913851362121212347/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=2913851362121212347&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/2913851362121212347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/2913851362121212347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2007/11/hmmmwhat-do-i-want-to-be-when-i-grow-up.html' title='Hmmm...What Do I Want To Be When I Grow Up?'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-1726489055408944355</id><published>2007-11-26T20:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-26T20:03:59.169-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Back from Hiatus'/><title type='text'>Back from Hiatus!</title><content type='html'>Hello world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My son and I are back from Hiatus.  I hope to continue recording my son's thoughts and musings of this world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been fun growing with a four year old boy, especially when he tries to interpret the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We plan to blog 5-7 days per week.  Keep visiting us!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-1726489055408944355?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/1726489055408944355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=1726489055408944355&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/1726489055408944355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/1726489055408944355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2007/11/back-from-hiatus.html' title='Back from Hiatus!'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-1035944963823678973</id><published>2007-09-25T14:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-25T14:05:28.920-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='explanation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='traffic light'/><title type='text'>"You Are Not Supposed To Do That"</title><content type='html'>"Mommyyyyyyyyyyy, you are not supposed to turn yet because the [traffic] light is yellow.  You are supposed to stop on yellow and red," my son was telling me as I turned left. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The truth was the light turned yellow as I was turning left, and that is what I explained to him.  He said, "My teacher said that yellow means stop, just like red."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully, he will still be a safe driver when he turns 16!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-1035944963823678973?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/1035944963823678973/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=1035944963823678973&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/1035944963823678973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/1035944963823678973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2007/09/you-are-not-supposed-to-do-that.html' title='&quot;You Are Not Supposed To Do That&quot;'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-1421966904388017324</id><published>2007-09-24T20:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-24T20:06:58.396-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sun'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Moon'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='questions'/><title type='text'>Stop following me, moon!</title><content type='html'>As we were driving home, my son says to me, "Mommy, why is the moon following me?  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Everywhere&lt;/span&gt; we go, the moon is following me, why?"  I explained to him that the moon was so big that it looked like it followed everyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does anyone know why it appears like the moon or sun does follow you?  If so, leave me a comment.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-1421966904388017324?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/1421966904388017324/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=1421966904388017324&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/1421966904388017324'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/1421966904388017324'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2007/09/stop-following-me-moon.html' title='Stop following me, moon!'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-5803809582360297545</id><published>2007-09-10T16:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-12-18T16:19:09.521-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='favor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='McDonald&apos;s'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='preschool'/><title type='text'>Do Me A Favor, Please</title><content type='html'>I picked up my son today from preschool.  I always like to know what he does at preschool, so every preschool day, I ask him what did he do.  He always tells me that he played with his friends.  I would ask him if he did art activities, listened to story time, etc.  He would say yes, and then he would tell me the specifics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On our way home today, he says to me, "Mommy, do me a favor please."  I wanted to giggle, he just amazes me with his thinking and vocabulary.  I said, "What would you like me to do?"  He said, "Take me to McDonald's for lunch."  I said, "Sorry, not today." He said, "It's a favor, pleaaaaaaaaaaaaaaase."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I changed the subject, I reminded him that fast food restaurants are junk food--it's ok to eat sometimes (emphasizing the word sometimes).  He said, "Ok, fine."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-5803809582360297545?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/5803809582360297545/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=5803809582360297545&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/5803809582360297545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/5803809582360297545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2007/09/do-me-favor-please.html' title='Do Me A Favor, Please'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-8064552266261603125</id><published>2007-09-07T19:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-07T20:49:33.644-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mosquito bites'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chicken pox'/><title type='text'>"I have chicken pops!"</title><content type='html'>My son woke me up to tell me that he had the "chicken pops." No, that is not a typo. As he was scratching his arms, my son said, "Mommy, I have chicken pops!" I told him to let me see. He did. I told him, "Those are not chicken pox, they are mosquito bites."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He insisted what he was scratching were "chicken pops."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-8064552266261603125?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/8064552266261603125/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=8064552266261603125&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/8064552266261603125'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/8064552266261603125'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2007/09/i-have-chicken-pops.html' title='&quot;I have chicken pops!&quot;'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6897287536090190633.post-6974486421850816755</id><published>2007-09-03T21:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-03T21:55:03.055-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This Is Just The Beginning</title><content type='html'>I will be recording my son's views and interpretations of the world.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6897287536090190633-6974486421850816755?l=viewsofachild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/feeds/6974486421850816755/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6897287536090190633&amp;postID=6974486421850816755&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/6974486421850816755'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6897287536090190633/posts/default/6974486421850816755'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://viewsofachild.blogspot.com/2007/09/this-is-just-beginning.html' title='This Is Just The Beginning'/><author><name>Child and Mother</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07191968235851331582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
