tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-50665280290202078992024-09-20T19:08:08.922-07:00Frootie!http://www.blogger.com/profile/05370228653438022745noreply@blogger.comBlogger78125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5066528029020207899.post-91421194463874035332013-03-01T16:25:00.000-08:002013-03-01T16:25:33.712-08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWT-HNw2fpTAaEmE-_Z69wOnM5MTI32WlWpKgTanuH9iYSwaP-nt5YNvZ5gRe1EfOZy3OOe1L77jIrDJw8WObj1P3C7DspnN9S65vRUS0dSCRSh1pyYD_EJBA6oZkdTNfY_AHmYMofSssu/s1600/IMG_8462.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWT-HNw2fpTAaEmE-_Z69wOnM5MTI32WlWpKgTanuH9iYSwaP-nt5YNvZ5gRe1EfOZy3OOe1L77jIrDJw8WObj1P3C7DspnN9S65vRUS0dSCRSh1pyYD_EJBA6oZkdTNfY_AHmYMofSssu/s320/IMG_8462.JPG" width="239" /></a></div> <div> <br /></div> <div> <br /></div> Um, Dad. &nbsp;Could you only buy me like, jean skirts from now on? &nbsp;<script src="http://www.giveforward.com/widget.js" type="text/javascript"> </script> <script type="text/javascript"> ...BuildWidget('friends'); </script> <div> Why?</div> <div> Because, they are horseback rider-y.</div> <div> I have never seen a lady on horseback in a jean skirt....</div> <div> Well, It's like country.</div> <div> <br /></div> <div> xoo,</div> <div> Frootie!</div> <div> <br /></div> <div> <br /></div> Frootie!http://www.blogger.com/profile/05370228653438022745noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5066528029020207899.post-52312543034329965872012-08-05T18:44:00.001-07:002012-08-05T18:44:46.215-07:00Ella's gonna be a third grader in a few days. <br /> <br /> The end. Frootie!http://www.blogger.com/profile/05370228653438022745noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5066528029020207899.post-64188824103180850082012-05-18T14:35:00.001-07:002012-05-18T14:35:40.517-07:00So lately Ella has had a boyfriend. His name is Logan P. Here are some of the antics we have had to deal with lately... -Last week he wanted to break up. She wouldn't let him. -she told me on Monday that she would help me take care of Nora and Graham because she needs to practice being a good wife and mother to Logan P. because he promised that they will get married someday. xxoo, Footie!Frootie!http://www.blogger.com/profile/05370228653438022745noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5066528029020207899.post-25693683579178125112012-01-28T15:25:00.000-08:002012-01-28T15:25:01.687-08:00Today my cousin wrote on my facebook page: &nbsp;Has Ella said "Take that Louisiana yet?" it made me laugh so I shared it with Clinton. &nbsp;Ella overheard and acted upset. &nbsp;She said "Why do you all write so much embarrassing stuff about me?" &nbsp;I stated "That's what parents do". &nbsp;<script src="http://www.giveforward.com/widget.js" type="text/javascript"> </script> <script type="text/javascript"> ...<span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background-image: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: yellow; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; ">BuildWidget</span>('friends'); </script><br /> <div> <br /></div> <div> So now for the story -- On New Years Eve Kentucky played Louisville. &nbsp;The family and the kids were all watching the game. &nbsp;The kids were acting like they were really into the game and Ella blurts out "Take that Louisiana!!" &nbsp;We all giggled. &nbsp;Funny. &nbsp;</div> <div> <br /></div> <div> But, isn't it true that parents are supposed to document all the silly stuff our kids do? &nbsp;</div> <div> <br /></div> <div> What have your kids done lately?</div> <div> <br /></div> <div> xxoo,</div> <div> Frootie!</div>Frootie!http://www.blogger.com/profile/05370228653438022745noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5066528029020207899.post-28138424260551407312012-01-24T20:16:00.001-08:002012-01-24T20:16:30.560-08:00The other day Ella said:<script src="http://www.giveforward.com/widget.js" type="text/javascript"> </script> <script type="text/javascript"> ...BuildWidget('friends'); </script><br /> <div> <br /></div> <div> "So, I'm the cutest - Graham is second - and Nora is Third." &nbsp;It makes me wonder what Nora ever did that she feels this way about her. &nbsp;Sassy butt.</div> <div> <br /></div> <div> xxoo,</div> <div> Frootie!</div>Frootie!http://www.blogger.com/profile/05370228653438022745noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5066528029020207899.post-7737856457213161892011-07-31T19:26:00.000-07:002011-07-31T19:28:01.058-07:00Someday Hilwe, I am going to have a poodle named Francine. Because poodles are fancy. I am also going to have a bulldog named b-dog because bulldogs are hip-hop. <script type="text/javascript" src="http://www.giveforward.com/widget.js"></script><script type="text/javascript">...BuildWidget('friends');</script><div><br /></div>Frootie!http://www.blogger.com/profile/05370228653438022745noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5066528029020207899.post-47906457653908235922011-07-31T19:20:00.000-07:002011-07-31T19:26:02.827-07:00As mentioned before Ella doesn't like to eat when she should eat. Last night at 11:45pm she came into the living room and wanted a snack. <script type="text/javascript" src="http://www.giveforward.com/widget.js"></script><script type="text/javascript">...BuildWidget('friends');</script><div><br /></div><div>Prince C offered her the chicken breast that was in the fridge. She got excited and ran to get it. Then after a couple minutes she came back into the living room and asked:</div><div><br /></div><div>Ella: Daddy, can you heat this up? It's cold. Um, I don't really care if you want to or not. Like, if you don't want to get up, I don't care. </div><div><br /></div><div>Prince C: What? </div><div><br /></div><div>Can you heat this up? I don't care if you want to or whatever.</div><div><br /></div><div>What? That is so rude. What are you trying to say?</div><div><br /></div><div>Uh, can you heat this up. In the microwave? If you don't want to, I don't care.</div><div><br /></div><div>me: Ella, honey are you trying to say that you don't mind if he doesn't want to...that you will eat it cold if he doesn't want to get up? </div><div><br /></div><div>Yes.</div><div><br /></div><div>Prince C: <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Ok</span>, well that isn't what you are saying. We need to work on that.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">xxoo</span>,</div><div><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Frootie</span>!</div>Frootie!http://www.blogger.com/profile/05370228653438022745noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5066528029020207899.post-51400650780934712342011-07-31T19:13:00.000-07:002011-07-31T19:20:53.231-07:00Ella's new thing (well not really new -- but she's back to it) is asking "What's your favorite?"<script type="text/javascript" src="http://www.giveforward.com/widget.js"></script><script type="text/javascript">...BuildWidget('friends');</script><div><br /></div><div>What's your favorite animal? Cat</div><div><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Mine's</span> a dog.</div><div>What's your favorite color? black</div><div><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Mine's</span> dog colors.</div><div>What's your favorite ever food? Mac n Cheese</div><div><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Mine's</span> soup.</div><div>What's your favorite cartoon movie movie? Bolt</div><div><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Mine's</span> Barbie </div><div>What's your favorite girl name? Josephine</div><div><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Mine's</span> Selena. Like Gomez. I am going to change my name to Selena. Or Amy. I don't know yet. Do you want to change your name to Josephine? </div><div>No.</div><div>Well then why is it your favorite?</div><div>I guess it just is.</div><div>What's your favorite boy's name? I don't know</div><div>Oh, well let me give you some hints: Logan, John, Jeff, uh....</div><div>Ella, you can't hint at what MY favorite is! Silly!</div><div>What's your favorite TV show? Bones</div><div><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Mine's</span> Good Luck Charlie</div><div>What's your favorite gas station? Ella people don't have favorite gas stations!</div><div>I do. It's Shell. Whenever I see one I say, "Oh! there's my favorite gas station, Shell!"</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">xxoo</span>,</div><div><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Frootie</span>!</div>Frootie!http://www.blogger.com/profile/05370228653438022745noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5066528029020207899.post-74459479786349509322011-07-30T20:48:00.001-07:002011-07-30T20:49:16.544-07:00Ella gets hungry at the oddest times. She doesn't want breakfast, lunch, or dinner but she loves to have midnight snacks. She wants to eat when she should be sleeping. <script type="text/javascript" src="http://www.giveforward.com/widget.js"></script><script type="text/javascript">...BuildWidget('friends');</script>Frootie!http://www.blogger.com/profile/05370228653438022745noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5066528029020207899.post-67269184810483633192011-07-14T18:49:00.001-07:002011-07-14T18:55:47.901-07:00Ella tells me secrets....as if I am not going to share. She's 6 almost 7...so they are, ahem, juicy.<script type="text/javascript" src="http://www.giveforward.com/widget.js"></script><script type="text/javascript">...BuildWidget('friends');</script><div><br /></div><div>Hilwe, can I tell you a secret and you won't tell anyone? Not Daddy and especially not Aunt Netnie? Last night we stayed up so late! Like til the am. We ate frozen cookie dough and looked on ebay at stuffed dogs.</div><div><br /></div><div>Um, that boy at the lake is incest with me. </div><div>Frootie!: Obsessed</div><div>Uh huh. He did this *Thumb pointed to herself, heart made of her hands above her head, and point* Oh my gosh. *eye roll*</div><div><br /></div><div>I don't like love Logan. But I like him.</div><div><br /></div><div>xxoo,</div><div>Frootie!</div>Frootie!http://www.blogger.com/profile/05370228653438022745noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5066528029020207899.post-52939090586759747742011-07-13T19:22:00.000-07:002011-07-13T19:26:29.071-07:00to Aunt Netnie's house we go! With no panties!<script type="text/javascript" src="http://www.giveforward.com/widget.js"></script><script type="text/javascript">...BuildWidget('friends');</script><div><br /></div><div>Sunday we sent the girls off to spend a few days with Aunt Netnie and Mammoie. I neatly made piles for each of the days Ella would be there. Clothes and pjs. Also a pile with tons of panties and a pile with 2 swimsuits. </div><div><br /></div><div>Tuesday, on my way down the hall to hop in the shower I looked in her room....and saw the panties. She didn't have panties. Oh my lord. The girl had been running around without drawers on.</div><div><br /></div><div>xxoo,</div><div>Frootie!</div>Frootie!http://www.blogger.com/profile/05370228653438022745noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5066528029020207899.post-2531391744899826632011-06-02T19:08:00.000-07:002011-06-02T19:14:40.603-07:00Here are a few Jewels from Ella today. <div>-oooh! I have never seen you wear that swimsuit. I like it. It has girly ruffles. </div><div>-Um, do you shave your underarms? Yes. Weeellll....you didn't do a good job today.</div><div>-You're Divorced?!? Why? What happened? Well, my ex-husband stopped loving me. WAHAT? How could that happen? </div><div>-Hilwe, we could facebook chat to each other to be quieter and maybe Nora would nap.</div><div>-Can I have a snack? No, we don't have time. We have froot loops in the car. I don't like froot loops. Ug! Fine, let's get a snack. After snack: Can I have some froot loops? Oh geez.</div><div>-Um, by the way...I am still going to move into Luke's new house.</div><div><br /></div><div>xxoo,</div><div>Frootie!</div>Frootie!http://www.blogger.com/profile/05370228653438022745noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5066528029020207899.post-34000345697385737182011-04-17T17:06:00.001-07:002011-04-17T17:19:39.710-07:00Ella came home from the lake last night totally distraught over needing to have her own dog. I was in a terrible mood because I was exhausted. Work was terribly slow and it made me foul. Anyway.... She started in with me about needing a dog and I said absolutely not. We already have 2 dogs and just put one to sleep in January and it is just not the right time and NO. She kept going on and on and ON AND ON. She wanted to play Let's Make A Deal. I said no deals, you are 6 and I say No. She got mad and walked away.<script type="text/javascript" src="http://www.giveforward.com/widget.js"></script><script type="text/javascript">...BuildWidget('friends');</script><div><br /></div><div>A little while later I said that maybe she could have a dog in 7th grade. I got my first dog in 7th grade, so that was a good time. She threw up her hands and stormed to her room. Ug...that makes me a little crazy, so my natural response was "OH MY GOD, I'M SIX AND MY LIFE IS TERRIBLE!!" I know, bad choice, but the drama wears me out.</div><div><br /></div><div>Prince C went to her room to discuss it with her. When they returned it was decided that she could have a dog for her birthday if she took care of our dogs when she's at our house and her Mommy's dogs while she's there, EVERYDAY.</div><div><br /></div><div>She wants a Shih Tzu. Shoot me now. Oh, Wait....It's never going to happen ANNNND if it does -- it'll be at J's because that's what Ella wants. Oh, and, J doesn't know about this dog yet. </div><div><br /></div><div>xxoo,</div><div>Frootie!</div>Frootie!http://www.blogger.com/profile/05370228653438022745noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5066528029020207899.post-31046994812281446942011-04-13T19:14:00.000-07:002011-04-13T19:56:27.957-07:001. Quote: I can't find Annie! I kept an ant named Annie in my pocket all day at school. Now I can't find her!<div><br /></div><div>2. At Sam's today they had enormous E<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">aster</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">fluffies</span>. They were like stuffed animal dog beds, I swear. I eyeballed them thinking, *perfect for Easter*....Ella said "Oh my gosh I NEED the dog one! NEED! I have been so good and I haven't gotten anything new lately!" I said well maybe the bunny will bring it. "No, I NEED it now!" Um, no. Approximately 15 minutes later she introduced us to her new stuffed dog...the one she pulled from her backpack. Stinker.</div><div><br /></div><div>3. Prince C had to sort-of explain the tweets and the buzzes today.... Hilarious. But the full story will follow later...</div><div><br /></div><div>4. Quote: You have magic hands! This is the best macaroni I have ever had. You should have a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">tv</span> show! Ten minutes later to Prince C, You have magic hands! This is the best steak ever.... You know the rest. </div><div><br /></div><div>5. Sunday is Little Em's 3rd birthday party. She's having a tangled tea party. The invitation requests that the guests come dressed all <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">princessey</span>. Ella picked out a perfect princess dress today and a matching one for Nora. I wish I didn't have to work, but Prince C will be there with camera in hand.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">xxoo</span>,</div><div><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Frootie</span>!<br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>Frootie!http://www.blogger.com/profile/05370228653438022745noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5066528029020207899.post-78989431907677591812011-04-07T18:26:00.000-07:002011-04-11T19:47:00.124-07:00For Spring Break we went to the Children's Museum in Indy. They currently have a Barbie exhibit. Ella loved it.<img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhScOH2pNVXwIqiqkh6J89mdtkZTme-MDGLxBNqBRRGeUmF2q9juZH2GXeWDFGQ9CQ1AS1QBN3Ynv_MspVzh8MZvdh9-xZw2-I4JzM0FXoPxjltKAs0V9oLgc_tJHmub-UVMBNIMf2dkfS6/s320/IMG_0854.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594522276664148594" /><div style="text-align: center;">Talking to Barbie on the phone.</div><div><img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOuFOC45IUdZeiVgE9ABBlapTgWKpITRwJG8Ke4MCx_enVVC46YHUJo_LU0gY7BMMu51_IPc8ELc9IUmoFXJsiGWYd9AYcfpwz8Sjbz_SG2BD6UmSRL6bDAwU7RRnO45fHKTPkyPWfzg7E/s320/IMG_0869.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594522285845118434" /><div style="text-align: center;">Supermodeling.</div></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPNQqpzpAQSLlN6TQKY3McIcqKzRRgPo4YE8x7CQHbtl_bRRZs1s__n5ArjlXnukkzIZhdON465M-d1gFJGCdx1RPYcqZXJ5Sqn992w5JKOoPXSVfIThH4FIn4ov-3tFrsyAYfaGAU1LgU/s1600/IMG_0873.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 229px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPNQqpzpAQSLlN6TQKY3McIcqKzRRgPo4YE8x7CQHbtl_bRRZs1s__n5ArjlXnukkzIZhdON465M-d1gFJGCdx1RPYcqZXJ5Sqn992w5JKOoPXSVfIThH4FIn4ov-3tFrsyAYfaGAU1LgU/s320/IMG_0873.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594522298547782802" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Nora trying her hand at the Catwalk... It's blurry, but Ella and Helen are in there too.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Good times were had by all.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">xxoo,</div><div style="text-align: left;">Frootie!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOuFOC45IUdZeiVgE9ABBlapTgWKpITRwJG8Ke4MCx_enVVC46YHUJo_LU0gY7BMMu51_IPc8ELc9IUmoFXJsiGWYd9AYcfpwz8Sjbz_SG2BD6UmSRL6bDAwU7RRnO45fHKTPkyPWfzg7E/s1600/IMG_0869.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><br /></a></span></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhScOH2pNVXwIqiqkh6J89mdtkZTme-MDGLxBNqBRRGeUmF2q9juZH2GXeWDFGQ9CQ1AS1QBN3Ynv_MspVzh8MZvdh9-xZw2-I4JzM0FXoPxjltKAs0V9oLgc_tJHmub-UVMBNIMf2dkfS6/s1600/IMG_0854.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><br /></span></div></a><script type="text/javascript" src="http://www.giveforward.com/widget.js"></script><script type="text/javascript">...BuildWidget('friends');</script><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>Frootie!http://www.blogger.com/profile/05370228653438022745noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5066528029020207899.post-16702580403411752012011-04-07T15:58:00.000-07:002011-04-07T16:04:22.197-07:00Last night we had dinner with my besties. After dinner we hit up Ritter's for dessert. It was chilly but we were eating ice cream and giggling so who cares...<script type="text/javascript" src="http://www.giveforward.com/widget.js"></script><script type="text/javascript">...BuildWidget('friends');</script><div><br /></div><div>We let Nora sit on the ground and play with rocks while we stood in a circle and chatted. She was having a great time so much so she decided to sit and spin on her bottom. We all laughed. It was a new dance move. All the adults liked it but Ella thought it was hysterical. </div><div><br /></div><div>Ella then said, "She lookes like when a dog's butt itches and the scoot it across the carpet".</div><div><br /></div><div>xxoo,</div><div>Frootie!</div>Frootie!http://www.blogger.com/profile/05370228653438022745noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5066528029020207899.post-79010085299253245772011-03-03T19:43:00.001-08:002011-03-03T19:44:26.154-08:00<div style="float: right; width: 240px; margin: 0 0 10px 10px; padding: 0; font-size: 0.8em; line-height: 1.6em;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/barefeetfoto/5488091274/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5213/5488091274_308651abc2_m.jpg" alt="My favorite pic of Ella so far in 2011 by *hillario*" /></a><br /><span style="margin: 0;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/barefeetfoto/5488091274/">My favorite pic of Ella so far in 2011</a> a photo by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/barefeetfoto/">*hillario*</a> on Flickr.</span></div>This is definitely my favorite picture of Ella so far in 2011 -- if not ever. It is 100% her embodied in 4x6 inches. <br /><br />xxoo,<br />Frootie!Frootie!http://www.blogger.com/profile/05370228653438022745noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5066528029020207899.post-72137347239455835322011-03-03T19:39:00.001-08:002011-03-03T19:39:53.326-08:00<div style="float: right; width: 240px; margin: 0 0 10px 10px; padding: 0; font-size: 0.8em; line-height: 1.6em;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/barefeetfoto/5488138412/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5096/5488138412_5bb05695df_m.jpg" alt="Sissy Love by *hillario*" /></a><br/><span style="margin: 0;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/barefeetfoto/5488138412/">Sissy Love</a> a photo by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/barefeetfoto/">*hillario*</a> on Flickr.</span></div>My favorite picture of the girls to date.<br />xxoo,<br />Frootie!<br clear="all" />Frootie!http://www.blogger.com/profile/05370228653438022745noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5066528029020207899.post-58968643679725995402011-03-01T18:59:00.001-08:002011-03-01T18:59:33.455-08:00This is a test post from <a href="http://www.flickr.com/r/testpost"><img alt="flickr" src="http://www.flickr.com/images/flickr_logo_blog.gif" width="41" height="18" border="0" align="absmiddle" /></a>, a fancy photo sharing thing.Frootie!http://www.blogger.com/profile/05370228653438022745noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5066528029020207899.post-71823117026320458492011-02-28T09:19:00.001-08:002011-02-28T14:24:55.233-08:00This morning it was a mess. Storms started rolling through around 4am and it's still raining. <br/> <br/> I took Ella to school and here are a few things we talked about: <br/> <br/> A severe thunderstorm warning alert interrupted the radio and said there was a warning for Mama Norma's county. I said, oh no, that's for Mama Norma's area and Ella responded, well if she's i n the pool she better get out. Lightning is attracted to water. <br/> <br/> Shortly after the warning came on the radio, I thought I should tell her if the storm kept moving east that it might come near her school. I told her not to freak out because it's just wind and rain and God will keep her safe. She said, yeah, God created all that stuff so he's in control of it. Wise beyond her years. <br/> <br/> Lastly, I asked if she wanted me to walk her into school or drop her off... her reply was walk me in, duh it's not fair for just me to get wet. <br/> <br/> Xxoo, <br/> Frootie! <br/> <div style='clear: both; text-align: center; font-size: xx-small;'>Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.7</div>Frootie!http://www.blogger.com/profile/05370228653438022745noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5066528029020207899.post-62796751409303531902011-02-24T13:04:00.001-08:002011-02-24T13:07:12.187-08:00Today on the way home from school I told Ella I want her to clean out her toys that she did play with so we can donate them. Here is the conversation.<script type="text/javascript" src="http://www.giveforward.com/widget.js"></script><script type="text/javascript">...BuildWidget('friends');</script><div><br /></div><div>Frootie!: I want us to give away some of your toys that you don't play with to kids who don't have any, ok?</div><div>Ella: Ok. Fine. But maybe those kids have like 2 toys.</div><div>Frootie!: Yes, maybe they have 2 toys, but how many do you have?</div><div>Ella: 1 thousand million. No, wait, Infinity.</div><div><br /></div><div>See, I tell you. The kid has too many toys.</div><div><br /></div><div>xxoo,</div><div>Frootie!</div>Frootie!http://www.blogger.com/profile/05370228653438022745noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5066528029020207899.post-55590161188284711262011-01-09T09:04:00.000-08:002011-01-09T16:39:05.358-08:00Here is a convo I overheard today<div><br /></div><div>Ella: Daddy, don't you need your hearing protection?</div><div>Price C: These will work, Daddy is deaf already anyway.</div><div>Ella: You're dead already?</div><div>Prince C: No, honey. I am deaf. DEAF.</div><div><br /></div><div>I think Ella might be a little deaf too....either that or just selective hearing. Silly Girl.</div><div><br /></div><div>xxoo,</div><div>Frootie!</div>Frootie!http://www.blogger.com/profile/05370228653438022745noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5066528029020207899.post-43760456522277839672011-01-04T16:41:00.001-08:002011-01-04T16:43:37.404-08:00On Christmas Morning<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5FFCCg3AUDCcQH67Fm3ALo1G-dMExIzvoyCC9_XPHOEq8gqAhmTpj84tDXijwF5NBakkavUixA0baRMs5-UQradvcRMmeQik5r4Ojse6hzZ45iIPruTOVNC_j-c2CTWRkIn9y3DXm14s3/s1600/IMG_9971.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5FFCCg3AUDCcQH67Fm3ALo1G-dMExIzvoyCC9_XPHOEq8gqAhmTpj84tDXijwF5NBakkavUixA0baRMs5-UQradvcRMmeQik5r4Ojse6hzZ45iIPruTOVNC_j-c2CTWRkIn9y3DXm14s3/s400/IMG_9971.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558495723766729090" /></a><div><div style="text-align: left;"><u><br /></u></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5FFCCg3AUDCcQH67Fm3ALo1G-dMExIzvoyCC9_XPHOEq8gqAhmTpj84tDXijwF5NBakkavUixA0baRMs5-UQradvcRMmeQik5r4Ojse6hzZ45iIPruTOVNC_j-c2CTWRkIn9y3DXm14s3/s1600/IMG_9971.jpg"></a><br /><script type="text/javascript" src="http://www.giveforward.com/widget.js"></script><script type="text/javascript">...BuildWidget('friends');</script><div>xxoo,</div><div>Frootie!</div><div><br /></div></div>Frootie!http://www.blogger.com/profile/05370228653438022745noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5066528029020207899.post-91425798817824450152011-01-04T16:39:00.000-08:002011-01-04T16:41:02.421-08:00On NYEE we were headed to Nich-vegas. Ella definitely asked if the pool was open. On December 30th. Wowzers.<script type="text/javascript" src="http://www.giveforward.com/widget.js"></script><script type="text/javascript">...BuildWidget('friends');</script><div><br /></div><div>xxoo,</div><div>Frootie!</div>Frootie!http://www.blogger.com/profile/05370228653438022745noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5066528029020207899.post-46896126326266587432010-12-11T08:49:00.001-08:002010-12-11T08:49:37.580-08:00So...Ella is really learning to read now. It is super awesome. The other night we were going thru the taco bell drive thru and she started reading the signs hanging up in the window. <br/> <br/> Ella: hot, mild, fire. <br/> Frootie: what about that one? <br/> Ella: um, free drink with...uh.. <br/> Frootie: Sound it out. <br/> Ella: Uh, purr shae ze. <br/> Frootie: Very close. Purchase. Do you know what that means? <br/> Ella: Nope. <br/> Frootie: Well, it's a Fancy Nancy word for buy. Like this, I just purchased our taco bell with my debit card! <br/> Ella: Awesome. I want to go purchase some money. <br/> <br/> xxoo, <br/> Frootie! <br/> <br/> <br/> <div style='clear: both; text-align: center; font-size: xx-small;'>Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.5</div>Frootie!http://www.blogger.com/profile/05370228653438022745noreply@blogger.com1