<?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-8877672350821930813</id><updated>2011-07-07T19:34:55.246-07:00</updated><title type='text'>madmonkmcelroys</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madmonkmcelroys.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877672350821930813/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madmonkmcelroys.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>MadMonkMcElroys</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16311408941368230439</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/Saf2QII3mvI/AAAAAAAAAGI/YmxKxfhVBjc/S220/P1040995.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>21</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877672350821930813.post-7285978660316075954</id><published>2010-03-22T15:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-22T15:23:57.822-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Gardening 2010</title><content type='html'>Trying to figure out the best option for my garden. I need it near to the house  so I use it and have water easily accessible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/S6ftoIxgIrI/AAAAAAAAAM8/Zu-_0CLlhYQ/s1600-h/North+facing+garden+location.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/S6ftoIxgIrI/AAAAAAAAAM8/Zu-_0CLlhYQ/s320/North+facing+garden+location.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451587147760935602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/S6ftnRs-YeI/AAAAAAAAAM0/6ONpG_p0OYA/s1600-h/North+east+facing+garden+location.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/S6ftnRs-YeI/AAAAAAAAAM0/6ONpG_p0OYA/s320/North+east+facing+garden+location.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451587132977996258" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/S6fr-9jAO2I/AAAAAAAAAMs/iLuWyv9Rfsw/s1600-h/P1070466.JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8877672350821930813-7285978660316075954?l=madmonkmcelroys.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madmonkmcelroys.blogspot.com/feeds/7285978660316075954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8877672350821930813&amp;postID=7285978660316075954' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877672350821930813/posts/default/7285978660316075954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877672350821930813/posts/default/7285978660316075954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madmonkmcelroys.blogspot.com/2010/03/blog-post.html' title='Gardening 2010'/><author><name>MadMonkMcElroys</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16311408941368230439</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/Saf2QII3mvI/AAAAAAAAAGI/YmxKxfhVBjc/S220/P1040995.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/S6ftoIxgIrI/AAAAAAAAAM8/Zu-_0CLlhYQ/s72-c/North+facing+garden+location.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877672350821930813.post-1897574298609681168</id><published>2009-03-28T10:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-28T11:07:17.233-07:00</updated><title type='text'>God, I love this town!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;My favorite place to go in Nashville is the Blue Bird Cafe. I am continually amazed at the talent here in Nahsville. Well last night, I gained a whole new love for what we can experience here.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mad Monk and I hosted our first house concert, with a local friend and songwriter, Kent Agee. It was so cool. We had about 30 people attend and everyone had a great time. The best moment for me was when he was playing and I thought to myself how much I love the Blue Bird and then WOW and this is my own house! Only in Nashville . . . (oh, I do realize that house concerts are not limited to Nashville, but the music is so much of why I love it here).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/Sc5lJqHucDI/AAAAAAAAAHk/Z8Gn5O_em7I/s1600-h/IMG_0914.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318299426571055154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 134px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/Sc5lJqHucDI/AAAAAAAAAHk/Z8Gn5O_em7I/s200/IMG_0914.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/Sc5lJSYogJI/AAAAAAAAAHc/xqd6S3Qg-fw/s1600-h/IMG_0913.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318299420199518354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 134px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/Sc5lJSYogJI/AAAAAAAAAHc/xqd6S3Qg-fw/s200/IMG_0913.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/Sc5lJMl1xvI/AAAAAAAAAHU/_pNQCx80Dyw/s1600-h/IMG_0912.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318299418644301554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 134px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/Sc5lJMl1xvI/AAAAAAAAAHU/_pNQCx80Dyw/s200/IMG_0912.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/Sc5lI4kipPI/AAAAAAAAAHM/sb8FfXJGJBA/s1600-h/IMG_0911.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318299413270144242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 134px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/Sc5lI4kipPI/AAAAAAAAAHM/sb8FfXJGJBA/s200/IMG_0911.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/Sc5lIkYlp3I/AAAAAAAAAHE/wIye6CcAqfk/s1600-h/IMG_0910.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318299407851300722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 134px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/Sc5lIkYlp3I/AAAAAAAAAHE/wIye6CcAqfk/s200/IMG_0910.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8877672350821930813-1897574298609681168?l=madmonkmcelroys.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madmonkmcelroys.blogspot.com/feeds/1897574298609681168/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8877672350821930813&amp;postID=1897574298609681168' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877672350821930813/posts/default/1897574298609681168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877672350821930813/posts/default/1897574298609681168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madmonkmcelroys.blogspot.com/2009/03/god-i-love-this-town.html' title='God, I love this town!'/><author><name>MadMonkMcElroys</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16311408941368230439</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/Saf2QII3mvI/AAAAAAAAAGI/YmxKxfhVBjc/S220/P1040995.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/Sc5lJqHucDI/AAAAAAAAAHk/Z8Gn5O_em7I/s72-c/IMG_0914.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877672350821930813.post-2972672772960787929</id><published>2009-03-03T19:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-04T08:44:12.046-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Potty Privacy</title><content type='html'>Once you become a parent, you realize all bets are off in terms of bathroom privacy. I think this is true for both moms and dads, but moms in particular can forget it! This can become quite tricky at times! However, somehow we manage it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I have 2 wonderful boys who are very inquisitive (as many are) and are on a quest for knowledge. These boys have been sharing a bathroom stall with me since they were born. I've managed using restrooms with a baby sling on (with baby in it) as well as actually holding a child with one hand while I do the rest with the other hand AND while telling the older one not to touch a thing. I don't feel special, because I know most moms have done the same. However, I always felt a sense of accomplishment after doing it. When I enter public restrooms, no one ever looks at me funny because its accepted that my children would be with me if I had to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now MadMonk on the otherhand, he never had this particular joy until Big E started potty training. It seemed natural to me that if MadMonk was there and Big E had to go, Big E should go with him. After a few times of my requesting this, I started to sense an undercurrent of resistance from my dear MadMonk. When I asked, he informs me that he's embarrassed to have Big E in there because he asks too many questions and it is quite accepted that no one talks in a men's bathroom. Apparently Big E is asking questions about the urinal (it doesn't look like a potty) and the blue cakes in the urinal and why there is only one potty and why this and what's that. My question to MadMonk was whether MadMonk thought Big E asked any questions in the ladie's room. OF COURSE he does! "What's the little can stuck to the wall, why is it stuck to the wall, what's in it" . . . "NO, don't touch that Big E!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the years go by, MadMonk resists less, probably as the kids ask less, but they still ask and look. On one of our recent outings, the stall that I was in (yeah, I do get my own stall sometimes) had a fancy add display that was a video. Yes, there was a TV in my stall. Of course I mention it, which was not too smart on my part and then leave the stall. I keep having to tell Big E that he needs to finish his business in his stall before I'll show him. Next thing I know, I hear a yelp from the stall I was in and now someone else is in and realize he's crawling under the divider between the two stalls. Big E is a bit embarrassed and the other woman was very kind and reassures me that it's not the first time and she also had boys. I'm slightly mortified, but realize that it happens with kids. Women get it. Now if this same scenario would have happened to MadMonk . . . I'd be taking the boys to the bathroom for the next year!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now we're in Special K's inquisitive stage. And he asks questions of a more personal nature. "Mommy, are you pooping or peeing?" and of course my answer doesn't stop the questions . . . sometimes he asks it 3 - 4 more times. "both? are you peeing right now? are you pooping right now? "Mommy, are you wiping your bottom now?" I'm so glad all the women in the restroom get to hear a full play by play of my toileting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was a Special K day. I get 2 of those a week where we get to spend the whole day together. On these days, Special K wants to be everywhere I am, even in the bathroom. He usually walks right in, sits on the stool they use to reach the sink right in front of me and talks. He finds these times to be a good time to chat apparently. Today I wanted/needed privacy as we sometimes do. I went in, closed the door and locked it hoping he wouldn't notice I was even in there. Seconds later, the doorknob is jiggling. "Special K, mommy needs her privacy right now." "Why, mommy?" oh the dreaded question Why? "Just because sometimes people need privacy in the bathroom." "But, I want to BE with you." "Well, you can wait until I'm finished in here." NO, I want to talk with you, IN THERE, RIGHT NOW" Well this argument goes on (even after I've stopped even responding) because now he wants the play by play . . . "are you wiping your bottom now?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a final note . . . while boarding the plane to come home from a girls weekend a week ago, I told the woman beside me I had to go potty. Nice! Now even I'm sharing my toileting in kid speak!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8877672350821930813-2972672772960787929?l=madmonkmcelroys.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madmonkmcelroys.blogspot.com/feeds/2972672772960787929/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8877672350821930813&amp;postID=2972672772960787929' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877672350821930813/posts/default/2972672772960787929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877672350821930813/posts/default/2972672772960787929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madmonkmcelroys.blogspot.com/2009/03/potty-privacy.html' title='Potty Privacy'/><author><name>MadMonkMcElroys</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16311408941368230439</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/Saf2QII3mvI/AAAAAAAAAGI/YmxKxfhVBjc/S220/P1040995.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877672350821930813.post-7546982624365180808</id><published>2009-02-27T10:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-27T11:17:48.039-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Friends (all I needed to know I learned from MY kindergartener)</title><content type='html'>Big E is a very sweet boy. He truly strives (albeit not always successfully) to be kind to others and make them happy. Anyway, during December his grandparents (who live in PA) send 25 envelopes for each boy to open one a day until Christmas. Little things are found in the envelopes from stickers, coloring pages and little puzzles to money in the form of State Quarters, Presidential Silver Dollars and paper money. The later is for choosing a special item on which to spend the money. Big E immediately wanted to buy a "treat" at school with his money. After talking about whether to save or spend, he chose save (for the first 2 times). Then he wanted to buy a treat. Which was fine with us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So after school, Big E informs me that he didn't get his treat. Why? I ask. He forgot . . . pretty typical of my kindergartener these days. So where is the money? He gave it to a friend. Why? "because he didn't have any." Hmmm. Well that is very altruistic my dear boy, but why is that your responsibility. "because he is my friend." Now, I will state that this young boy my dear Big E calls a friend, is not always his friend and can manipulate him. Thus a discussion about friends . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A friend is someone you can count on to help you. A friend doesn't expect anything from you or of you. A friend likes you because you are you and not because you have certain things or give them things. So, Big E, do you have anybody who is like this? He names 4 kids. 1 from his new school, 2 from his pre-school and 1 from church.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I start crying. It breaks my heart to think he only has 1 friend from his new school. Then, after I calm myself down and really think about this, I realize that he is not upset by this. When I think more about it I'm pretty impressed actually. He gets something that I didn't get . . . he doesn't have to be best friends with everyone in his class. In fact, he's only know these kids since September and I'm expecting life-long friendships by DECEMBER! Then I take a look at how I've gone about having friends over the years. Probably not in the best way, but I've changed that over the last few years. I used to think I needed one REALLY close BEST friend and everyone else was on the periphery and I really wasn't sure how to let them in too b/c I spent all my "friend" energy on one person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those 4 kids that Big E mentioned all bring something different to his life. They meet the "requirements" so to speak of a friend. Along the way, he'll meet more who do this. I have a lot of different friends who all bring something different to my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have my All Smiles friends. Because we scrapbook together for 3 days non-stop 2x a year, we know a lot about each other. We're all different . . . 3/5 are Creative Memories Consultants . . . 3/5 use face book . . . all 5 of us live in different cities . . . 3/5 have some type of psychology background . . . all of our husbands are physicians  (2/5 radiology, 1 surgery, 1 GI and 1 neonatology), we all have different political views and we all are friends who care deeply about each other. We all bring something unique to the group and are very appreciative of our time together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I have my bible study friends. A group of about 13 women who used to meet every Monday for 4.5 years (our group just ended b/c our priest, leader and friend retired this year). These women are some of my dearest friends. Every one is at least 60 or older except for my friend LD and me. Most have grand kids. I've been asked by them why we like to hang out with all "us old women" they aren't old to me and never have been. They've taught me a whole lot and I miss seeing them every week. Being in that group has challenged some of my deepest held beliefs and has brought me closer to each one of these women.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I have my "kids' school" friends, neighbor friends with kids the same age as mine. We seem to have a lot in common b/c of our children. Our kids love each other. But again, there are so many differences. Some work full time while others work part time or at home, we have different interests and hobbies. Yet, these friends are so important to my life because they help me to laugh at the everyday and know that I'm not alone in this crazy thing called parenting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also have my work friends (from the music playhouse) and friends we have met along the road of life (HS, college, grad-school, med-school, residency, fellowship and Vandy) each one brings something special to my life OR at least added to it at some point along the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Big E is just starting his road. He will meet people along the way who will become life-long friends. He'll also meet those who touch his life in some way and then move on or he will. If he can figure out now what it means to be a friend, he'll be okay. Because, as long as he always has someone he can count on and or turn to. . . it doesn't matter how many there are. Lucky for him, I think he's on the right track!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8877672350821930813-7546982624365180808?l=madmonkmcelroys.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madmonkmcelroys.blogspot.com/feeds/7546982624365180808/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8877672350821930813&amp;postID=7546982624365180808' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877672350821930813/posts/default/7546982624365180808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877672350821930813/posts/default/7546982624365180808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madmonkmcelroys.blogspot.com/2009/02/friends-all-i-needed-to-know-i-learned.html' title='Friends (all I needed to know I learned from MY kindergartener)'/><author><name>MadMonkMcElroys</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16311408941368230439</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/Saf2QII3mvI/AAAAAAAAAGI/YmxKxfhVBjc/S220/P1040995.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877672350821930813.post-5076316203339384559</id><published>2009-02-27T06:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-27T11:30:34.063-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lego Birthday Bash</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I can't believe he's 6. It truly amazes me that he has now been in our lives for more than 1/2 our marriage!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Big E turned 6 on Valentine's day. Now, we don't do BIG birthdays around here. Big meaning the invite everyone we know from school and church kind of parties. In fact, we don't do "friend" parties until our kids turn 5. However, we do like to get into the party theme. Big E's last party was "Superhero Training Camp" at M.I.S.T. (McElroy Institute of Superhero Training). You can see from the picture that I mean what I say when I say we get into it!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/Sag-v_X1AyI/AAAAAAAAAGo/8L2Xv4I8Hvw/s1600-h/Evan%27s+5th+BDay+superhero+training+camp+(2).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307561155042280226" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/Sag-v_X1AyI/AAAAAAAAAGo/8L2Xv4I8Hvw/s320/Evan%27s+5th+BDay+superhero+training+camp+(2).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So in January, we asked Big E what he wanted to do for this party figuring it would be Star Wars and we'd have a lot of planning to do (including choosing our own characters for the day). We were thrilled when he said he wanted to do a lego party. No dressing up there unless we were going to dress up as Giant Legos, which we could have done I suppose. Then the dreaded question of which friends he wanted to invite. This also went better than expected. He named 4 friends and felt "that was enough because these were his 'real' friends." [see blog re. Friends]. Wow, this is going to be easy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, for the easiest party so far . . . &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) mini loaf cake for each child with 2 half marshmallows on top and iced to look like colored legos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) 1 large loaf cake with 8 half marshmallows on top for the center lego brick&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/Sag-wlTKKUI/AAAAAAAAAGw/XxMwIA8pMWU/s1600-h/Evan%27s+6th+(Lego)+Birthday+(1).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307561165223242050" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/Sag-wlTKKUI/AAAAAAAAAGw/XxMwIA8pMWU/s320/Evan%27s+6th+(Lego)+Birthday+(1).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/Sag-w_jexnI/AAAAAAAAAG4/YOli3zrPz3c/s1600-h/Evan%27s+6th+(Lego)+Birthday+(3).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307561172271023730" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/Sag-w_jexnI/AAAAAAAAAG4/YOli3zrPz3c/s320/Evan%27s+6th+(Lego)+Birthday+(3).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3) lego racer kits for each child bought on sale for less than $2.50 each&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4) lego fruit sancks&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;5) hot dogs and baked cheetos (Big-E's favorite)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;6) 5 (including Big E and Special K) very happy lego building kids.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;No tantrums. Only one black/blue cheek b/c Special K tripped and fell face first into the coffee table. One friend asked for his present back b/c Big E already had one . . . "why does he need two?" A lot of blue, red and yellow lips! and one very happy Big E!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8877672350821930813-5076316203339384559?l=madmonkmcelroys.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madmonkmcelroys.blogspot.com/feeds/5076316203339384559/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8877672350821930813&amp;postID=5076316203339384559' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877672350821930813/posts/default/5076316203339384559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877672350821930813/posts/default/5076316203339384559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madmonkmcelroys.blogspot.com/2009/02/lego-birthday-bash.html' title='Lego Birthday Bash'/><author><name>MadMonkMcElroys</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16311408941368230439</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/Saf2QII3mvI/AAAAAAAAAGI/YmxKxfhVBjc/S220/P1040995.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/Sag-v_X1AyI/AAAAAAAAAGo/8L2Xv4I8Hvw/s72-c/Evan%27s+5th+BDay+superhero+training+camp+(2).jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877672350821930813.post-3016063410129268257</id><published>2009-01-22T12:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T10:55:43.442-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Inauguration 2009</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/SXoE_68jt7I/AAAAAAAAAEk/zkaRrB_uDFo/s1600-h/P1040794.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294549808128964530" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/SXoE_68jt7I/AAAAAAAAAEk/zkaRrB_uDFo/s320/P1040794.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luck was on my side to be a part of this amazing moment! A friend decided to throw caution to the wind and drive up. On Friday, I did the most spontaneous thing ever and decided to ride along. We had no tickets, but a place to stay at her mom's condo. Our plans were to go with the flow and just BE there. On Saturday another friend, whose friend works for Nancy &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Pelosi&lt;/span&gt; AND who already had tickets through this friend, called us and told us that she had tickets for us too. We were psyched, thrilled, overjoyed, etc. . . Her friend felt the tickets should go to people who were willing to drive all the way from TN when they &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;didn&lt;/span&gt;’t have tickets to anything JUST to be a part of this event. We are so thankful to them! So thank you to Amanda for your willingness to just GO which inspired me so much to join you, to Lisa, Kelly and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Hymay&lt;/span&gt; for sharing tickets with us, to Connie for giving us a WARM place to fall when we could stand no longer, to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Rayhabs&lt;/span&gt; for helping me with the boys so I could go, to Rachel for covering my class and Last, but certainly not least, to Steve for supporting me, so I could go at the last minute. It is a trip I will always remember!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So for the details &amp;amp; a few pictures of the trip . . . &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;We left Nashville at 2pm CST and drove until 2am EST. The drive was good with the exception of the snow storm in VA. We weren't sure we'd make it but it stopped by Roanoke. We got a burst of excitement when some people we met at a gas station wanted to take a picture with Amanda's car which was painted "Signed, Sealed, Delivered, We're There"&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/SXoNQxbXmRI/AAAAAAAAAFs/4mFPo0I1830/s1600-h/Obama+Inauguration+09.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294558893724637458" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/SXoNQxbXmRI/AAAAAAAAAFs/4mFPo0I1830/s320/Obama+Inauguration+09.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;We spent Monday checking things out. Everyone was in such great spirits and so excited to be there. It was like a great big party just before it starts. Our tickets were south of the city so we had to go get them. When we got there we found out that they had gotten an EXTRA ticket for Connie, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Amand's&lt;/span&gt; mom, so she could go too! Awesome! We went to bed at 9:30 b/c the next day was going to be long!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/SXoNRVEr-RI/AAAAAAAAAF0/rUXNoKWWu0s/s1600-h/Obama+Inauguration+09+(7).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294558903293180178" style="WIDTH: 316px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 227px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/SXoNRVEr-RI/AAAAAAAAAF0/rUXNoKWWu0s/s320/Obama+Inauguration+09+(7).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/SXoFAJbfDYI/AAAAAAAAAEs/t-xCM7feG78/s1600-h/P1040799.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294549812016778626" style="WIDTH: 305px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 229px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/SXoFAJbfDYI/AAAAAAAAAEs/t-xCM7feG78/s320/P1040799.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;We woke up at 2:45 EST to get ready to go down to the Capitol. We took a cab to the metro (getting there at 4:00) and rode down to our stop.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;We finally got to the holding gate to get into the festivities at about 5:00&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/SXoFAmgGClI/AAAAAAAAAE0/morcWUJTItQ/s1600-h/P1040819.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294549819820739154" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/SXoFAmgGClI/AAAAAAAAAE0/morcWUJTItQ/s320/P1040819.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Temperatures were probably around 14 degrees, but there were so many people, and we had so much excitement that it didn't feel that bad . . . YET. We added the hand/foot warmers about 6:00 or so.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;We were able to enter at 8:30 for screening. This is the only place where we met someone who worried us. As we were entering the screening area (imagine airplane screening . . . the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;screeners&lt;/span&gt; were &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;TSA&lt;/span&gt;) we had to show our tickets (the first of probably 20 times). A man was right in front of me with an arm load of camera equipment and bags (which were not allowed in our area . . . no bags over 8x6x4) When he couldn't show the blue ticket that was required for our area the security told him he had to leave. They got into an argument and the man FAKE FAINTED! Another man came from behind me and said "we have all these passes, we're allowed in" When the man from the ground thought they were getting somewhere with security, he started to get up. Then security told him that no he could not come in, he had the wrong passes and his passes allowed him into the mall area. The first man "fainted" again. Then a cop came over to us and told us that he'd already done this 2x. Amanda and I were stalled while this was going on and then they let us through then stopped everyone behind us until this was taken care of.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;We stood in our place in front of the capitol until the ceremonies began&lt;/li&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/SXoFB9GsJfI/AAAAAAAAAFE/Sz7QZWLScMw/s1600-h/P1040905.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294549843068069362" style="WIDTH: 301px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 229px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/SXoFB9GsJfI/AAAAAAAAAFE/Sz7QZWLScMw/s320/P1040905.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/SXoFBHqbJJI/AAAAAAAAAE8/pdPwI3E02E4/s1600-h/P1040904.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294549828722435218" style="WIDTH: 291px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 229px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/SXoFBHqbJJI/AAAAAAAAAE8/pdPwI3E02E4/s320/P1040904.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obama takes the Presidential Oath&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;The ceremonies were amazing in and of themselves, but the people we were surrounded by were the best. In fact when people ask what my favorite part was . . . it's the people. There was so much hope, excitement and pure joy that it radiated from most everyone (there were only a few exceptions, which I attribute to their personal desire to be in the best spot to see that they forgot that there were 2mil others who wanted the best spot as well). The spirit there was amazing!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;We stayed until Pres. Bush was sent off by &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;helecopter&lt;/span&gt;. We walked to a hamburger joint, which happened to be owned by the chef who won Top Chef (I had no clue and never watched the show, but it was cool anyway.)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/SXoLJ0A5aZI/AAAAAAAAAFU/tRXl7S2F0O8/s1600-h/P1040937.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294556575136573842" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/SXoLJ0A5aZI/AAAAAAAAAFU/tRXl7S2F0O8/s320/P1040937.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/SXoLJZWv6xI/AAAAAAAAAFM/SalzvcJmQYM/s1600-h/P1040927.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294556567980469010" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/SXoLJZWv6xI/AAAAAAAAAFM/SalzvcJmQYM/s320/P1040927.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lisa, Amanda and me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;When walking back to the metro, we noticed the huge lines to get in and someone mentioned that the parade hadn't started so they closed all metros. In route to another station we just happened to see the beginning of the parade where Pres. Obama inspects the military as they marched by. Another great photo op!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/SXoLKZQmUnI/AAAAAAAAAFc/fn0kSvc-p50/s1600-h/P1040954.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294556585134543474" style="WIDTH: 309px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 230px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/SXoLKZQmUnI/AAAAAAAAAFc/fn0kSvc-p50/s320/P1040954.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/SXoLKqk641I/AAAAAAAAAFk/2HCe9VyVf3w/s1600-h/P1040965.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294556589783180114" style="WIDTH: 319px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 229px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/SXoLKqk641I/AAAAAAAAAFk/2HCe9VyVf3w/s320/P1040965.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;We finally made it to the next station and were absolutely freezing and exhausted by this point (about 4 in the evening). The metro was crowded and the little indoor mall area next to the metro was also crowded with people everywhere sitting on the floor and standing. Trash and food was all over the hallway floor. It was just depressing. We decided that since no matter what we did, we were going to be in a line, we'd go ahead and get in the line that took us home. The whole process only took about 20-30 min. Not bad for the crowd. All in all, people were considerate even if they wanted to get going.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/SXoNSFhnXEI/AAAAAAAAAF8/ZkWXj97o8Pc/s1600-h/Obama+Inauguration+09+metro+lines+(1).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294558916299414594" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/SXoNSFhnXEI/AAAAAAAAAF8/ZkWXj97o8Pc/s320/Obama+Inauguration+09+metro+lines+(1).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;We got back to Connie's condo and collapsed. Amanda almost fell asleep in her chicken stew she was so exhausted. We were in bed by 9:30. We so wanted to go to a ball, but were thankful we didn't get tickets at that point . . . although we would have toughed it out if we had :)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;We left at 8 the next morning, getting home at 6 our time.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;The whole trip was a whirlwind of activity, excitement and fun. I'd do it again I must say. It was amazing. A true moment in history!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8877672350821930813-3016063410129268257?l=madmonkmcelroys.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madmonkmcelroys.blogspot.com/feeds/3016063410129268257/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8877672350821930813&amp;postID=3016063410129268257' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877672350821930813/posts/default/3016063410129268257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877672350821930813/posts/default/3016063410129268257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madmonkmcelroys.blogspot.com/2009/01/inauguration-2009.html' title='Inauguration 2009'/><author><name>MadMonkMcElroys</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16311408941368230439</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/Saf2QII3mvI/AAAAAAAAAGI/YmxKxfhVBjc/S220/P1040995.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/SXoE_68jt7I/AAAAAAAAAEk/zkaRrB_uDFo/s72-c/P1040794.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877672350821930813.post-8893933084025015562</id><published>2008-11-21T14:55:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-21T16:01:45.316-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ketchup Explosion &amp; Holiday Pictures</title><content type='html'>Big E is 5 1/2 years old and is in Kindergarten with other 5 and 6 year &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;olds&lt;/span&gt;. What do we know about 5-6 year &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;olds&lt;/span&gt;??? &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Hmmm&lt;/span&gt; let's think about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) like to test limits&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) love to learn about things and their properties (explorers)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) think the littlest thing is hilarious and will continue to do it until someone else stops them&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) last but not least, will do all these things to a greater degree the less supervision there is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are just &lt;em&gt;some&lt;/em&gt; of the many things we know about little boys. "we" meaning other moms of boys and anyone else out there with the least experience with boys. That is why I would think that those with degrees in education would understand this . . . not at Big E's school &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;apparently&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While standing outside "the best school" in the county, I was speaking with Big E's best friend's mom, who had been contacted at home b/c her son was squirting ketchup at lunch. When Big E walks out from school (4 hours AFTER lunch) he has ketchup on his face and shirt. When asked why, he tells me that best friend #1 did it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As an aside . . . We hop in the car and I hear someone yelling Big E's name. It's his teacher calling out b/c my darling son left his coat (in 38 degree weather) inside. It wasn't his coat, but he DID forget it and we are going to COLORADO for the week. Not a place to not have a coat. We were able to get the coat, with an unhappy and hurried mom who needs to p/u Special K in 20 minutes. P/U time is a artfully crafted hour so I can p/u both boys, who are 20 min apart in 1/2 hour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I digress . . . back to exploding ketchup . . . So best friend #1 squirts Big E with ketchup all over his face and light blue standard school attire shirt. "But, he wasn't trying to squirt me or anyone" Big E says. "it just went out the wrong end." &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Hmm&lt;/span&gt; this is starting to get interesting. I say nothing. "When you twist the baggies of ketchup, they explode" Big E says with enthusiasm and a great &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;sense&lt;/span&gt; of knowledge. "They explode?" I ask. "Yeah, so we explode them into our mouth [best friend #1] just missed 'cause it went out the wrong end." he continues. I am &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;actually&lt;/span&gt; trying not to laugh at this situation as I listen to the story and get a mental image of 4-5 5 year old boys twisting ketchup packets until they explode and catching the explosion in their mouth (by the way apparently the packs are NOT touching their mouths during these explosions, the contents are just &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;supposed&lt;/span&gt; to land there.) Now, unfortunately best friend #1's explosion did not end up in his mouth but over my Big E. Also unfortunate . . . best friend's mom got called at home and he will have to eat in the office for 1 week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is this situation not the epitome of young boy exploration. This is experimentation of what happens to something under pressure. What a cool thing to learn. The environment is rich with opportunities for exploration and science. These same boys have tested what happens to all of their food trash when they put it into baggies and start swinging it around or stomp on it. How about when you mix a whole bunch of different types of food and drink and slosh it all together. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Hmmmm&lt;/span&gt; a lovely mixture that little boys will find delightful and full of laughs. This is physics and chemistry . So where is the psychology of the whole thing? Not with the ONLY 2 teachers who are in charge of a whole room full of 7 classes of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Kindergartners&lt;/span&gt;. Remember "what we know about 5-6 year old boys" #4? because we are also dealing with math . . . inverse relationship of supervision to this  exploration behavior)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to say, I am not even angry. In fact, I think it's quite funny. It helps that Big E didn't get in trouble, but I have called best friend #1's mom to tell her the whole story so she can advocate for her son that he was NOT the only one participating, poor guy just got a bad ketchup baggie. Now that being said, we did have a talk this afternoon about "would you do this at home?" "would you have done this in Miss. M's class"(from last year). His answer is no. A small teaching moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My question is WHY would you leave only 2 teachers and the hope of parent volunteers to be in charge of at least 100 to 150 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;kindergartners&lt;/span&gt; and 1st graders. THIS is what 5 &amp;amp; 6 year &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;olds&lt;/span&gt; DO. Why is it expected that these children are supposed to go from complete supervision, to the lack thereof overnight, and actually behave. ESPECIALLY when they learn that ketchup packets explode when you twist them. No one ever told them NOT to do that before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So . . . as we drive to pick up Special K, Big E says . . . "so that is why my face looks like it was in a food fight for my picture today." Yes, it was a picture day and NO ONE thought to help my son wipe his face off BEFORE the picture or even before the end of the day. Merry Cheers of a festive background, with my handsome son (who just had his hair cut yesterday) in his light blue standard school attire shirt with KETCHUP all over his face and shirt. I can't WAIT to get this one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll add pictures when they come in . . .&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8877672350821930813-8893933084025015562?l=madmonkmcelroys.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madmonkmcelroys.blogspot.com/feeds/8893933084025015562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8877672350821930813&amp;postID=8893933084025015562' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877672350821930813/posts/default/8893933084025015562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877672350821930813/posts/default/8893933084025015562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madmonkmcelroys.blogspot.com/2008/11/ketchup-explosion-holiday-pictures.html' title='Ketchup Explosion &amp; Holiday Pictures'/><author><name>MadMonkMcElroys</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16311408941368230439</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/Saf2QII3mvI/AAAAAAAAAGI/YmxKxfhVBjc/S220/P1040995.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877672350821930813.post-7770677264376253408</id><published>2008-11-01T19:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-01T20:09:09.948-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Trick-or-Treating Etiquette</title><content type='html'>Trick-R-Treating Etiquette . . . &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;1) ring door 1x&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2) do not bang on door until someone comes&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3) stay outside the person's house&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4) do not be choosy about the treat you receive&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;5) do not look in windows&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;6) say thank you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mad Monk's parents were in town for Halloween this year. We had a blast with all the traditional activities, including a few more . . . read down for the need for the the Etiquette portion.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;First there was pumpkin carving. Big E thinks pumpkins stink so wouldn't touch the gooey stuff inside. It was to gross apparently. Special K, on the other hand dug right in . . . with a spoon. If Big E won't touch it, neither will he, but it isn't going to stop him from doing it :) When we pushed the issue, he pointed out that Mad Monk was also using a spoon. Touche.&lt;/div&gt;Big E was very interested in designing his pumpkin though. Notice the "hook" on the side . . .&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/SQ0WGYwVgvI/AAAAAAAAAD8/xo9uv8XWIKE/s1600-h/Pumpkin+Carving.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263887838446191346" style="WIDTH: 318px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/SQ0WGYwVgvI/AAAAAAAAAD8/xo9uv8XWIKE/s320/Pumpkin+Carving.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/SQ0Xrh_eOCI/AAAAAAAAAEM/nqTnqJmUF_0/s1600-h/Pumpkin+Carving+(1).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263889576092383266" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/SQ0Xrh_eOCI/AAAAAAAAAEM/nqTnqJmUF_0/s320/Pumpkin+Carving+(1).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then there was dinner. Since we enjoy making things festive around here, dinner was no different. We had Mummy Dogs, Witch's Fingernails, Bat Wings with Sauce and Witch's Brew. We had monster toes for dessert.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/SQ0WFbaKuDI/AAAAAAAAADc/24_Uru3qSuU/s1600-h/Halloween+Mummy+dogs.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263887821978646578" style="WIDTH: 257px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/SQ0WFbaKuDI/AAAAAAAAADc/24_Uru3qSuU/s320/Halloween+Mummy+dogs.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/SQ0XrmjaOQI/AAAAAAAAAEE/V4X1yOYzkkM/s1600-h/Witch%27s+brew.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263889577316858114" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/SQ0XrmjaOQI/AAAAAAAAAEE/V4X1yOYzkkM/s320/Witch%27s+brew.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/SQ0WGHEC3fI/AAAAAAAAAD0/2KeQy5EOMIE/s1600-h/P1040300.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263887833697017330" style="WIDTH: 288px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 202px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/SQ0WGHEC3fI/AAAAAAAAAD0/2KeQy5EOMIE/s320/P1040300.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now it's time to trick-or-treat. Big E is Captain Rex, from Star Wars. No one really knows who he is unless they suffered through the new animated Star Wars movie for their children. This causes a lot of explaining by a 5 year old when he is asked if he is everything BUT Captain Rex. Special K is "Darth Vaaaaaador" Now you have to say it in just that way and by lowering your voice when you say "Vaaaador" as low as it can go and say it very slowly. Most knew who he was.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/SQ0ZYOXz_XI/AAAAAAAAAEU/8crGkjTKxIQ/s1600-h/Evan+Captin+Rex+and+Kyle+Darth+Vader.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263891443431505266" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/SQ0ZYOXz_XI/AAAAAAAAAEU/8crGkjTKxIQ/s320/Evan+Captin+Rex+and+Kyle+Darth+Vader.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now both Big E AND Special K have trick-or-treated before. We've gone over the routine, they know the drill . . . or at least we THOUGHT they did until the first house, when they rang the doorbell 5 times and then started banging on the door. Mad Monk and Darling B look at each other and mention that we might need to refresh on our T-R-T skills.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;At the second house, we hoped they'd use the few new skills we taught them in between house one and house two like ringing the door 1x, no banging on the door, saying trick-or-treat and thank you. They again rang the doorbell a couple of times b/c they were fighting over who got to ring it then immediately said trick-r-treat before anyone opens the door. When the nice woman opened the door then stepped back in to get the treats, my lovely Darth Vaaaaaador and Captain Rex walk right into her house then proceed to tell her what they like and what they don't in terms of the treats she was offering. Okay . . . now we need to talk about etiquette.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It got much better from there after a few houses of yelling trick-r-treat immediately following ringing the bell and looking in the windows so they can yell back -- some one's coming. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Grandma and Pap Pap stayed back at the house and Grandma put on her witch costume. We decided to stop by and trick-r-treat at our house when we passed by to the other part of the community. Special K didn't know who Grandma was and Grandma (the witch) kept saying in a Witchy voice, "don't you want to come in to my house?" Special K, very politely said no the first time. The second time, he said no a little louder. The third time he yelled NO! We thought he just didn't want to go in. Well, no that wasn't the case. He didn't know who the witch was and when she tried the 4th time he started crying. We realized then that we never have to worry about Special K going with anyone he doesn't know, he'll be very clear that he DOES NOT want to go. See we knew this "specialness" would be useful!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/SQ0WFoC5wdI/AAAAAAAAADk/o4oF4cQ9iJs/s1600-h/P1040293.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263887825370726866" style="WIDTH: 259px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 187px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/SQ0WFoC5wdI/AAAAAAAAADk/o4oF4cQ9iJs/s320/P1040293.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/SQ0WF0I-onI/AAAAAAAAADs/9jzdsk8GDPY/s1600-h/P1040294.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263887828617437810" style="WIDTH: 152px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 187px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/SQ0WF0I-onI/AAAAAAAAADs/9jzdsk8GDPY/s320/P1040294.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;All in all we had a great night. So happy Halloween . . . and please use good trick-r-treating etiquette!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8877672350821930813-7770677264376253408?l=madmonkmcelroys.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madmonkmcelroys.blogspot.com/feeds/7770677264376253408/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8877672350821930813&amp;postID=7770677264376253408' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877672350821930813/posts/default/7770677264376253408'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877672350821930813/posts/default/7770677264376253408'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madmonkmcelroys.blogspot.com/2008/11/trick-or-treating-etiquette.html' title='Trick-or-Treating Etiquette'/><author><name>MadMonkMcElroys</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16311408941368230439</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/Saf2QII3mvI/AAAAAAAAAGI/YmxKxfhVBjc/S220/P1040995.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/SQ0WGYwVgvI/AAAAAAAAAD8/xo9uv8XWIKE/s72-c/Pumpkin+Carving.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877672350821930813.post-1204717260199761804</id><published>2008-10-04T14:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-04T14:21:53.419-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Response to TMA comment on In a Galaxy . . .</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;In her comment to In A Galaxy Far Far Away, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;TMA mentioned the "brick" wall in Special K's bedroom. I thought I'd add a pic . . . &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/SOfc_FWeYFI/AAAAAAAAADE/1GYzjwJFzD4/s1600-h/Kyle%27s+Fire+Truck+Room.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253410466677284946" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/SOfc_FWeYFI/AAAAAAAAADE/1GYzjwJFzD4/s320/Kyle%27s+Fire+Truck+Room.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8877672350821930813-1204717260199761804?l=madmonkmcelroys.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madmonkmcelroys.blogspot.com/feeds/1204717260199761804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8877672350821930813&amp;postID=1204717260199761804' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877672350821930813/posts/default/1204717260199761804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877672350821930813/posts/default/1204717260199761804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madmonkmcelroys.blogspot.com/2008/10/response-to-tma-comment-on-in-galaxy.html' title='Response to TMA comment on In a Galaxy . . .'/><author><name>MadMonkMcElroys</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16311408941368230439</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/Saf2QII3mvI/AAAAAAAAAGI/YmxKxfhVBjc/S220/P1040995.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/SOfc_FWeYFI/AAAAAAAAADE/1GYzjwJFzD4/s72-c/Kyle%27s+Fire+Truck+Room.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877672350821930813.post-1414703882734116287</id><published>2008-10-03T18:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-03T19:34:10.632-07:00</updated><title type='text'>In a Galaxy Far, Far Away</title><content type='html'>After MUCH debate and already buying the materials AND paint to make Big E's room into a Pirate Ship, he decided to change his mind and make it into a Space themed room instead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This took much creativity on MadMonk's and Darling B's part! We thought of buying a big mural and pasting it on the wall . . . too expensive. We talked about painting the whole room black with stars all around . . . hmmm cool, but a black room? FINALLY Darling B saw a picture of a mural that was a port hole window into space. THAT'S COOL. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So do you remember the weekend (and blog about it) a few weeks ago about the too much planned and all turned into a disaster and Darling B thought it would be a good idea to start this space room too? Well, she didn't start it that weekend, but a few days later. Hmmm I wonder where Special K gets that stubborn, determined streak from????&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here are the pictures of Big E's Space ship room . . . First the before pictures . . . &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/SObRZtpXwnI/AAAAAAAAACU/I5nWbgMiYKA/s1600-h/Evan%27s+Room+Before+Re-Do.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253116255054316146" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/SObRZtpXwnI/AAAAAAAAACU/I5nWbgMiYKA/s320/Evan%27s+Room+Before+Re-Do.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;By the way, I don't remember EXACTLY why I took these pictures in the first place, maybe it was to prove a point about how Big E needs to clean up his room. Notice the bottom drawer being open . . . &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/SObRZ04ZDkI/AAAAAAAAACc/KVvHU1yFDrs/s1600-h/Evan%27s+Room+Before+Re-Do+(1).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253116256996363842" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/SObRZ04ZDkI/AAAAAAAAACc/KVvHU1yFDrs/s320/Evan%27s+Room+Before+Re-Do+(1).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now for the Space Ship Room . . . &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/SObRaD-iThI/AAAAAAAAACk/AgMhwYfMoAA/s1600-h/P1040006.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253116261048667666" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/SObRaD-iThI/AAAAAAAAACk/AgMhwYfMoAA/s320/P1040006.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The main cockpit. The moon in the middle was a birthday present this past year. The buttons are made with jewels that kind of sparkle light on and off like it might on a control panel. Cool effect! The window here is not quite done, as Big E wants planets, meteors and other cool space stuff. It was very important to MadMonk that DarlingB design the cockpit to look similar to that on the Millenum Falcon from Star Wars. The port hole here is finished with the star map for Nashville in November (MadMonk and DarlingB's birthday month) The fan has dark blue blades with a rocket on each. The light bowl looks like the earth. He picked it out months ago at the beginning of summer when we were picking out a fan for Special K's room b/c of the heat!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/SObRaLgnP9I/AAAAAAAAACs/k4L5OAv-MqQ/s1600-h/P1040007.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253116263070646226" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/SObRaLgnP9I/AAAAAAAAACs/k4L5OAv-MqQ/s320/P1040007.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is the port hole Big E can see directly from his bed. It has the star map for Nashville in February (Big E's birthday month).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/SObRaTcHf0I/AAAAAAAAAC0/LckzULhJNW0/s1600-h/P1040008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253116265199271746" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/SObRaTcHf0I/AAAAAAAAAC0/LckzULhJNW0/s320/P1040008.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3rd port hole has star map for Nashville in August (Special K's birthday month). Notice that there is STILL a drawer open (different drawer, but still)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/SObT1_QlCyI/AAAAAAAAAC8/amrktEBOfsw/s1600-h/P1040010.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253118939841760034" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/SObT1_QlCyI/AAAAAAAAAC8/amrktEBOfsw/s320/P1040010.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is a close-up of the February star map. You can just see the shiny stars that were painted on in glow paint. As for now, you really can't see anything during the day. Big E wants to keep it that way b/c technically you can't see stars during the day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The effect is pretty cool in the dark, but would be better with a black light, which we are considering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8877672350821930813-1414703882734116287?l=madmonkmcelroys.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madmonkmcelroys.blogspot.com/feeds/1414703882734116287/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8877672350821930813&amp;postID=1414703882734116287' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877672350821930813/posts/default/1414703882734116287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877672350821930813/posts/default/1414703882734116287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madmonkmcelroys.blogspot.com/2008/10/in-galaxy-far-far-away.html' title='In a Galaxy Far, Far Away'/><author><name>MadMonkMcElroys</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16311408941368230439</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/Saf2QII3mvI/AAAAAAAAAGI/YmxKxfhVBjc/S220/P1040995.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/SObRZtpXwnI/AAAAAAAAACU/I5nWbgMiYKA/s72-c/Evan%27s+Room+Before+Re-Do.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877672350821930813.post-9035489309251788747</id><published>2008-09-17T17:41:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-17T18:20:18.778-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Food FIGHT!</title><content type='html'>Ahh . . . Learning! We are so excited for all the things that Big E is learning in Kindergarten. His reading has improved greatly and he tries to read everything in sight! He's learned to tie his shoes, tuck in his shirt and put on a belt. He's learned some new songs, new things in art and new ways to move his body. He is sorting, recognizing patterns, recognizing new sounds and just improving in all the areas he already knew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then there is the &lt;em&gt;social&lt;/em&gt; learning that is taking place. Oh, that is my favorite part. Remember the "do you want a piece of me" incident in week 2. Well, we've topped that one now . . . with a Food Fight! Even his teacher is surprised b/c this is not something that Big E would do. Big E's involvement was spitting his milk through his straw at people. I'm SOOOO proud! Needless to say, Big E was quite disapointed with the consequences of his actions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love the learning of Kindergarten!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8877672350821930813-9035489309251788747?l=madmonkmcelroys.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madmonkmcelroys.blogspot.com/feeds/9035489309251788747/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8877672350821930813&amp;postID=9035489309251788747' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877672350821930813/posts/default/9035489309251788747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877672350821930813/posts/default/9035489309251788747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madmonkmcelroys.blogspot.com/2008/09/food-fight.html' title='Food FIGHT!'/><author><name>MadMonkMcElroys</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16311408941368230439</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/Saf2QII3mvI/AAAAAAAAAGI/YmxKxfhVBjc/S220/P1040995.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877672350821930813.post-1872737928908225437</id><published>2008-09-03T19:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-03T19:55:41.918-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm getting the hang of this . . .</title><content type='html'>Okay. I have been in the dark ages &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;apparently&lt;/span&gt; when it comes to the world of blogging.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friends are posting comments . . . how do I know when they do that?&lt;br /&gt;. . . and how do they know I posted something anyway?&lt;br /&gt;. . . and how do I know when they post something?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure there is a lot more to learn, but I think I have the basics now CHECK, CHECK and CHECK.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I now will receive an e-mail to let me know I have a comment.&lt;br /&gt;I now know how friends know when I post AND I receive "feeds" when they post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WOW! I feel so enlightened.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8877672350821930813-1872737928908225437?l=madmonkmcelroys.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madmonkmcelroys.blogspot.com/feeds/1872737928908225437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8877672350821930813&amp;postID=1872737928908225437' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877672350821930813/posts/default/1872737928908225437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877672350821930813/posts/default/1872737928908225437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madmonkmcelroys.blogspot.com/2008/09/im-getting-hang-of-this.html' title='I&apos;m getting the hang of this . . .'/><author><name>MadMonkMcElroys</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16311408941368230439</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/Saf2QII3mvI/AAAAAAAAAGI/YmxKxfhVBjc/S220/P1040995.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877672350821930813.post-8680424618108678565</id><published>2008-09-03T19:11:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-03T19:39:39.833-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Special K's Off to School</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Well, Special K's school is back in session. He is thrilled to say he is in the Yellow Room! He was so happy to go back! Mommy was happy too. . . for Special K. She felt a twinge of sadness as she walked around the mall soliciting for the Silent Auction and seeing all the mommies with their kids (just a twinge). Special K has been ready since Big E's second week of Kindergarten. &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/SL9Eg58hRiI/AAAAAAAAACM/jRFrQHNGmyY/s1600-h/P1030593.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241983823383709218" style="WIDTH: 209px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px" height="154" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/SL9Eg58hRiI/AAAAAAAAACM/jRFrQHNGmyY/s320/P1030593.jpg" width="149" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8877672350821930813-8680424618108678565?l=madmonkmcelroys.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madmonkmcelroys.blogspot.com/feeds/8680424618108678565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8877672350821930813&amp;postID=8680424618108678565' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877672350821930813/posts/default/8680424618108678565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877672350821930813/posts/default/8680424618108678565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madmonkmcelroys.blogspot.com/2008/09/special-ks-off-to-school.html' title='Special K&apos;s Off to School'/><author><name>MadMonkMcElroys</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16311408941368230439</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/Saf2QII3mvI/AAAAAAAAAGI/YmxKxfhVBjc/S220/P1040995.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/SL9Eg58hRiI/AAAAAAAAACM/jRFrQHNGmyY/s72-c/P1030593.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877672350821930813.post-6256813188841213805</id><published>2008-08-31T20:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-31T21:29:52.962-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Home Improvement Weekend -- Tim Allen Style</title><content type='html'>Where to start . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We normally do not get a full weekend to be at home all together. To get 3 days is a miracle! We were not supposed to be in town this weekend but cancelled our plans just to have a weekend at home. Since we have 3 whole days, why don't we make it a home improvement weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First the list (and not necessarily in this order):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Fix kitchen light that sizzles and flickers when turned on.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;re-grout shower tiles -- is that mold or mildew growing UNDER them?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;clean large picture window over foyer (2 stories high)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;change out flood lights around house (some 1 story high, some 2 stories and some 3 stories)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;trim holly tree (2 stories high)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;fix and re-design air conditioning drainage system (current design broken and obviously designed by an idiot who has more time on his hands than we do)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;And general weekend stuff (wash cars, laundry, groceries, etc.)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Oh, and keep kids entertained while doing it all.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;DAY 1:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So first we worked on the kitchen light. Actually this went rather well. Believe it or not, we had a switch to change out the dimmer switch. So within 20 min . . . FIXED . . . cost $0&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Now to the shower. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Hmmm&lt;/span&gt;. There is a lot more to be re-grouted than we thought. Oh, the prior owners spray painted over all the tiles so when we re-grout it will all chip off making the tiles look even worse. Our friend with experience in this area says . . . That's Not Good! GREAT. Okay, no biggie we'll figure this out, but not today.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Now to the drainage system . . . Darling B figures out a re-design of the system. Mad Monk doesn't understand Darling B's design. Mad Monk draws out exactly the same re-design as Darling B, but doesn't think so. Darling B and Mad Monk get into an argument over the SAME design. Typical when re-designing anything around here. Finally get on the same page. More stuff to buy . . .&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Darling B now climbs up our 24 Foot latter to clean windows. Actually gets them done with a lot of courage. Of course Mad Monk tells Darling B on the AM of Day 2 not to look at them b/c she won't be happy.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Mad Monk climbs up 24 Foot latter to trim holly tree. Latter teeters and totters as he balances the hedge trimmer . . . lops off the top, can't reach the other side and only half down the side he's on b/c the latter is half IN the tree. Darling B keeps saying it just isn't right. Mad Monk says she'll have to live with it. Darling B says FINE she'll hire someone. Mad Monk says go for it!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;END of DAY 1. Time to go OUT to eat b/c we didn't get to the grocery and to Home Depot to get stuff for changing out lights and new design for drainage system.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;DAY 2&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Darling B wakes up with SO much energy and a feeling of accomplishment (from what I'm not sure) that she suggests that it's time to paint Big E's room . . . space ship theme.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Mad Monk agrees but suggests that maybe we should skip church to get this done. NO, Darling B wants to go to Church too!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Darling B DOES NOT look at picture window&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Go to church . . . &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Return. Mad Monk heads out to change lights with light changer &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;extension&lt;/span&gt; pole. 1 story light bulb changed no problem. 2&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;nd&lt;/span&gt; story light . . . when screwing OUT the bulb, he screws out the entire fixture causing it to dangle by its wires. Now what? Light changer extension pole doesn't work to screw BACK IN the whole fixture. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Darling B suggests that he reach it from 2&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;nd&lt;/span&gt; story bedroom window. Great idea . . . Mad Monk removes screen from window and hangs out as far as he can (where is a camera when you need one) except Mad Monk's reach is 1 ft. too short.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;How about reaching it from the attic? Mad Monk heads up to attic to check it out. Darling B meanwhile researches space themed rooms on the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;internet&lt;/span&gt;. Next thing she hears . . . CRASH . . . BOOM . . . @#$@%&amp;amp;^. Darling B runs upstairs to find a hole in the ceiling and dry wall and insulation all over the floor. Mad Monk put his foot through the ceiling and fell through up to his thigh!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;GREAT! ANOTHER PROJECT!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Well, ceiling is taped up. We're working on how we're going to fix that one. Lights are still not changed out and are still dangling by their wires. Holly Tree still lopsided. Picture window worse than it was before. Drainage system still not fixed. Tiles same as before. Big E's room has space portals and a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;cockpit&lt;/span&gt; drawn onto wall . . . Big E sleeping in spare room. Laundry still not done, haven't gone to grocery store, cars still dirty and WE are having guests tomorrow to celebrate LABOR day. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Hmmm&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Maybe we should just stick to laundry, cleaning cars, groceries and enjoying a weekend off.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8877672350821930813-6256813188841213805?l=madmonkmcelroys.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madmonkmcelroys.blogspot.com/feeds/6256813188841213805/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8877672350821930813&amp;postID=6256813188841213805' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877672350821930813/posts/default/6256813188841213805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877672350821930813/posts/default/6256813188841213805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madmonkmcelroys.blogspot.com/2008/08/home-improvement-weekend-tim-allen.html' title='Home Improvement Weekend -- Tim Allen Style'/><author><name>MadMonkMcElroys</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16311408941368230439</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/Saf2QII3mvI/AAAAAAAAAGI/YmxKxfhVBjc/S220/P1040995.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877672350821930813.post-2529634366705975381</id><published>2008-08-27T05:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-27T06:02:32.356-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Southern Boys</title><content type='html'>"That, it! We're Moving!" That's what Steve said when we heard IT this morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In response to the question, "Are you getting your shoes on, Evan?" The response was, "I'm FIXIN' to." "You're what?" "I'm FIXIN' to." "I'm sorry, you're what?" "Uh, uh, getting ready to put it on."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AND Kyle . . . He says "ya-ah"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's happening? It doesn't seem to matter what their Yankee parents do, these boys are turning "Suthurn."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8877672350821930813-2529634366705975381?l=madmonkmcelroys.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madmonkmcelroys.blogspot.com/feeds/2529634366705975381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8877672350821930813&amp;postID=2529634366705975381' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877672350821930813/posts/default/2529634366705975381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877672350821930813/posts/default/2529634366705975381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madmonkmcelroys.blogspot.com/2008/08/southern-boys.html' title='Southern Boys'/><author><name>MadMonkMcElroys</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16311408941368230439</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/Saf2QII3mvI/AAAAAAAAAGI/YmxKxfhVBjc/S220/P1040995.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877672350821930813.post-5403292736274430274</id><published>2008-08-25T06:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-25T06:17:31.588-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Special-ness of Special K</title><content type='html'>Some don't believe me when I tell of Special K's determined personality. "He's so laid back." "I've never seen him even fuss a little."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, my experience yesterday truly sums up Special K's determined ways. After church we went to lunch with a friend. When I parked, I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;accidentally&lt;/span&gt; hit the concrete slab that the light post was in. No biggie, I just backed up -- just enough so I wasn't hitting the slab anymore. So imagine about a 3" - 4"  distance between the slab and the van's bumper. We had lunch and were leaving. The kids were acting silly and Special K was on the other side of the van. I asked him to come over -- around the slab. No, he had to go between the slab and the van. Now, he barely could get his hip in between the two, but by golly he was going to do it anyway. So he started screaming. I tried to help by getting him to go out the other way. "No" he was going to do it his way come hell or high water. So he wedged himself in even further. Now he is stuck right in the middle, was crying and screaming because he was stuck. I was starting to get concerned about exactly how I was going to get him out. Why should I worry though, he didn't want my help! I knew I couldn't back the van out further because when I turned it on and put it into reverse it might lurch forward just enough to truly hurt the kid. He kept screaming and yelling and crying. I couldn't move him forward or backward -- he was stuck. But he kept trying, and crying, and yelling and screaming. Well, as things usually go for Special K, he finally squeezed through, with little injury.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so, this &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;sums&lt;/span&gt; up the personality of Special K. This determined spirit is bound to get him somewhere in life because he won't quit until it does. Hopefully it doesn't kill mommy in the process!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8877672350821930813-5403292736274430274?l=madmonkmcelroys.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madmonkmcelroys.blogspot.com/feeds/5403292736274430274/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8877672350821930813&amp;postID=5403292736274430274' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877672350821930813/posts/default/5403292736274430274'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877672350821930813/posts/default/5403292736274430274'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madmonkmcelroys.blogspot.com/2008/08/special-ness-of-special-k.html' title='The Special-ness of Special K'/><author><name>MadMonkMcElroys</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16311408941368230439</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/Saf2QII3mvI/AAAAAAAAAGI/YmxKxfhVBjc/S220/P1040995.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877672350821930813.post-7335927393056382488</id><published>2008-08-23T11:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-23T13:04:42.270-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Positives of having a dog</title><content type='html'>1st Positive: Now we have a walking partner!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I took Lucas and the boys to Edwin Warner Park for a "little" walk/hike. WELL, I didn't prepare and went on a trail that was new to me. I THOUGHT it would end up on the main paved trail. WRONG! It was a 2 1/2 mile loop trail (the longest in the park!)up and down the hills in the park! Those poor boys. They did so great. Big E hung in there the entire time. Special K's little feet wouldn't go much further. I held him on my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;shoulders&lt;/span&gt; for a small portion. By the end, he could barely walk. Evan Lucas seemed like he didn't want to go any further by the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We did it though. The boys were super ROCK STARS! Now they are napping. Big E even requested one!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;nd&lt;/span&gt; Positive: the Boys actually clean up now!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's amazing what happens when you have a new dog that will EAT your things if you leave them out! We've been having a particularly difficult time with clean up of toys around the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;monastery&lt;/span&gt;. We instituted a "library" policy 3 weeks ago, thanks to a friends advice. That has been helping b/c the kids can only have 2 toy bins out at a time and then must put one back to get another. Pretty simple. But the Dog clean up method works immediately! No, "I don't want to do it now." or "He got it out" or "it's just too much"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All it takes is, "Boys, I've told you that Lucas might eat your toys if you leave them out. Lucas is currently eating one of the cards to your favorite game." I tell you what, those boys have never cleaned up so fast." It's truly a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;miracle&lt;/span&gt;. I think I'm going to like having a dog!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I must go and deal with a possible dog ownership negative. Zoe is testing her fate and is downstairs checking out Lucas . . . pray for me!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8877672350821930813-7335927393056382488?l=madmonkmcelroys.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madmonkmcelroys.blogspot.com/feeds/7335927393056382488/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8877672350821930813&amp;postID=7335927393056382488' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877672350821930813/posts/default/7335927393056382488'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877672350821930813/posts/default/7335927393056382488'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madmonkmcelroys.blogspot.com/2008/08/positives-of-having-dog.html' title='Positives of having a dog'/><author><name>MadMonkMcElroys</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16311408941368230439</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/Saf2QII3mvI/AAAAAAAAAGI/YmxKxfhVBjc/S220/P1040995.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877672350821930813.post-3245016176797612530</id><published>2008-08-21T19:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-21T19:07:57.296-07:00</updated><title type='text'>We figured it out!</title><content type='html'>Well, we've been trying to figure out what Lucas is mixed with and finally figured it out. The receptionist at the Vet thought maybe a pointer or hound. We looked up pointer/lab mix and the pictures that came up were Lucas. It explains some of the things I've noticed like his front leg lifting up and his whole body "pointing" when he is checking something out in the yard. It's still a guess, but we think it's pretty close.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8877672350821930813-3245016176797612530?l=madmonkmcelroys.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madmonkmcelroys.blogspot.com/feeds/3245016176797612530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8877672350821930813&amp;postID=3245016176797612530' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877672350821930813/posts/default/3245016176797612530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877672350821930813/posts/default/3245016176797612530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madmonkmcelroys.blogspot.com/2008/08/we-figured-it-out.html' title='We figured it out!'/><author><name>MadMonkMcElroys</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16311408941368230439</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/Saf2QII3mvI/AAAAAAAAAGI/YmxKxfhVBjc/S220/P1040995.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877672350821930813.post-5922222491213479195</id><published>2008-08-21T12:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-23T11:38:36.989-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A new friend for our family</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/SK3OU0H2-vI/AAAAAAAAACE/68SHAO1fNac/s1600-h/P1030539.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237068798686067442" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/SK3OU0H2-vI/AAAAAAAAACE/68SHAO1fNac/s320/P1030539.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Truly confirming that I am a glutton for punishment, we adopted a dog, Lucas on Saturday, August 16, 2008. He is about 3 years old, so we are just making that day his birthday (1 week after Special K's birthday).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He is a very good dog and I don't think we could have chosen better dog for our family. You may remember that Big E was afraid of dogs. Regardless, we still are having to work out those special behaviors that come with getting a new dog. I think we're going to be very happy with Lucas.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8877672350821930813-5922222491213479195?l=madmonkmcelroys.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madmonkmcelroys.blogspot.com/feeds/5922222491213479195/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8877672350821930813&amp;postID=5922222491213479195' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877672350821930813/posts/default/5922222491213479195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877672350821930813/posts/default/5922222491213479195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madmonkmcelroys.blogspot.com/2008/08/new-friend-for-our-family.html' title='A new friend for our family'/><author><name>MadMonkMcElroys</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16311408941368230439</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/Saf2QII3mvI/AAAAAAAAAGI/YmxKxfhVBjc/S220/P1040995.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/SK3OU0H2-vI/AAAAAAAAACE/68SHAO1fNac/s72-c/P1030539.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877672350821930813.post-357068791757090779</id><published>2008-08-21T12:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-21T12:39:11.394-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Kindergarten is Here</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/SK3DZlcxkgI/AAAAAAAAAB8/2RLfWeiKr6c/s1600-h/P1030539.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, 9 days in and we're all still surviving. I'm constantly amazed at the things Big E will bring home now that he's meeting so many kids. On Friday, he was talking about some kid saying he was going to punch Big E in the stomach. Big E said it wasn't in a mean way. Mom is not sure how that wasn't mean, but oh well. Then on Monday (day 6) he didn't get an "excellent" b/c he was fighting with a kid -- not sure, but may be the same one. Apparently Big E said to the kid, "Do you want a piece of me?" Well, I was taken back when I heard that. We had a big discussion about what that meant and also about the fact that he is going to learn a lot of new things and he might want to check some of those things out because they won't always be good.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was told that he was going to bring new things home and that I'd be surprised. Well, I don't think I expected it on DAY 5 &amp;amp; 6, that's for sure!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8877672350821930813-357068791757090779?l=madmonkmcelroys.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madmonkmcelroys.blogspot.com/feeds/357068791757090779/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8877672350821930813&amp;postID=357068791757090779' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877672350821930813/posts/default/357068791757090779'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877672350821930813/posts/default/357068791757090779'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madmonkmcelroys.blogspot.com/2008/08/kindergarten-is-here.html' title='Kindergarten is Here'/><author><name>MadMonkMcElroys</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16311408941368230439</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/Saf2QII3mvI/AAAAAAAAAGI/YmxKxfhVBjc/S220/P1040995.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877672350821930813.post-944327205293541240</id><published>2008-06-05T12:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-05T12:07:06.427-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Here we are.</title><content type='html'>I have a friend who started blogging to keep in touch. So I thought I'd follow her example as if there is anything that exciting happening in our family. So stay in touch and see what's happening her at the McElroys.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8877672350821930813-944327205293541240?l=madmonkmcelroys.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://madmonkmcelroys.blogspot.com/feeds/944327205293541240/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8877672350821930813&amp;postID=944327205293541240' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877672350821930813/posts/default/944327205293541240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877672350821930813/posts/default/944327205293541240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://madmonkmcelroys.blogspot.com/2008/06/here-we-are.html' title='Here we are.'/><author><name>MadMonkMcElroys</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16311408941368230439</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UIFHz1FwVhI/Saf2QII3mvI/AAAAAAAAAGI/YmxKxfhVBjc/S220/P1040995.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
