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<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/atom10full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;C0AHRn44eyp7ImA9WhRUF0k.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4540114132549654332</id><updated>2012-01-28T03:08:57.033-06:00</updated><category term="sweet" /><category term="Macey" /><category term="funny" /><category term="general" /><category term="Miles" /><title>Miles and Macey</title><subtitle type="html">&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;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Do real-life personal relationships exhaust you? Are you wishing for a way to express how superior your own children are without having to have actual contact with others? Or, are you simply tired of physical reality? Then take my advice: Create a "Baby Book Blog!" The Internet: finding ways to distance you from friends and family since 1992.</subtitle><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://milesandmacey.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://milesandmacey.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4540114132549654332/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>Tara Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16411429692705242695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>69</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/MilesAndMacey" /><feedburner:info uri="milesandmacey" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkEBQ3g8fip7ImA9WxFXFks.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4540114132549654332.post-5698764369782028727</id><published>2010-05-23T20:30:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-23T20:30:52.676-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-05-23T20:30:52.676-05:00</app:edited><title>Qik - Macey notices boys by Tara Smith</title><content type="html">&lt;object classid="clsid:d27cdb6e-ae6d-11cf-96b8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=9,0,115,0" width="425" height="319" id="qikPlayer" align="middle"&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="sameDomain" /&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://qik.com/swfs/qikPlayer4.swf" /&gt;&lt;param name="quality" value="high" /&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#333333" /&gt;&lt;param name="FlashVars" value="rssURL=http://qik.com/video/646e596efce44eb8ba4eafad01257cae.rss&amp;autoPlay=false" /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://qik.com/swfs/qikPlayer4.swf" quality="high" bgcolor="#333333" width="425" height="319" name="qikPlayer" align="middle" allowScriptAccess="sameDomain" allowFullScreen="true" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" FlashVars="rssURL=http://qik.com/video/646e596efce44eb8ba4eafad01257cae.rss&amp;autoPlay=false"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4540114132549654332-5698764369782028727?l=milesandmacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://milesandmacey.blogspot.com/feeds/5698764369782028727/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4540114132549654332&amp;postID=5698764369782028727&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4540114132549654332/posts/default/5698764369782028727?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4540114132549654332/posts/default/5698764369782028727?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MilesAndMacey/~3/LSo3ixJoZtw/qik-macey-notices-boys-by-tara-smith.html" title="Qik - Macey notices boys by Tara Smith" /><author><name>Tara Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16411429692705242695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://milesandmacey.blogspot.com/2010/05/qik-macey-notices-boys-by-tara-smith.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkYHRnw-fSp7ImA9WxFXFks.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4540114132549654332.post-3219261606979234515</id><published>2010-05-23T20:18:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-23T20:22:17.255-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-05-23T20:22:17.255-05:00</app:edited><title>Qik - The kids play "domestic abuse call" by Tara Smith</title><content type="html">In retrospect, perhaps we shouldn't let the kids watch episodes of "Cops."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object classid="clsid:d27cdb6e-ae6d-11cf-96b8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=9,0,115,0" width="425" height="319" id="qikPlayer" align="middle"&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="sameDomain"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://qik.com/swfs/qikPlayer4.swf"&gt;&lt;param name="quality" value="high"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#333333"&gt;&lt;param name="FlashVars" value="rssURL=http://qik.com/video/23d6bc90959f4225a3655f41871ba8e2.rss&amp;amp;autoPlay=false"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://qik.com/swfs/qikPlayer4.swf" quality="high" bgcolor="#333333" width="425" height="319" name="qikPlayer" align="middle" allowscriptaccess="sameDomain" allowfullscreen="true" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" flashvars="rssURL=http://qik.com/video/23d6bc90959f4225a3655f41871ba8e2.rss&amp;amp;autoPlay=false"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4540114132549654332-3219261606979234515?l=milesandmacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://milesandmacey.blogspot.com/feeds/3219261606979234515/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4540114132549654332&amp;postID=3219261606979234515&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4540114132549654332/posts/default/3219261606979234515?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4540114132549654332/posts/default/3219261606979234515?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MilesAndMacey/~3/tQRs0k_aAIs/qik-kids-play-abuse-call-by-tara-smith.html" title="Qik - The kids play &amp;quot;domestic abuse call&amp;quot; by Tara Smith" /><author><name>Tara Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16411429692705242695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://milesandmacey.blogspot.com/2010/05/qik-kids-play-abuse-call-by-tara-smith.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkMHQXc8eyp7ImA9WxFRE04.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4540114132549654332.post-7267743939199729081</id><published>2010-04-26T20:00:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-26T20:07:10.973-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-04-26T20:07:10.973-05:00</app:edited><title>Bad Language</title><content type="html">Macey, who is now three, has developed a new three-year old vocabulary, which includes the very naughty word "stupid."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few minutes ago, I overheard her in the bathtub loudly insisting, "Kids are stupid!"  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh no!  That's not very nice," I told her.  "Why would you say that?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Because Adam is stupid."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, Macey, I want you to say sorry."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sorry."  (Pause.)  "But he says stupid words."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4540114132549654332-7267743939199729081?l=milesandmacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://milesandmacey.blogspot.com/feeds/7267743939199729081/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4540114132549654332&amp;postID=7267743939199729081&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4540114132549654332/posts/default/7267743939199729081?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4540114132549654332/posts/default/7267743939199729081?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MilesAndMacey/~3/OB-P7_VrPeE/bad-language.html" title="Bad Language" /><author><name>Tara Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16411429692705242695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://milesandmacey.blogspot.com/2010/04/bad-language.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0UNRnk6eCp7ImA9WxBbGU8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4540114132549654332.post-7696325003884557174</id><published>2010-02-13T00:45:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-18T11:21:37.710-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-18T11:21:37.710-05:00</app:edited><title>Macey, the Humanitarian</title><content type="html">Miles hasn't been feeling well the past couple of days:  he's been pretty lethargic and complaining of fever, aches, sore throat, etc.  I always feel sorry for him when he gets truly sick, but even if I didn't, he wouldn't let me forget for long that he's under the weather.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At one point we were in the van and he whined, "Mommy, I don't feel good."  I expressed appropriate sympathy, and we road in silence for a few more minutes until Macey observed,  "I want to kick him and see if he has a headache."&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On a related note, Brett and I were happy to see her express actual sympathy last week.  Bear Grylls from Man Vs. Wild bit the head off a squirming river trout, and Macey gapsed, "Oh, that poor fish!"  How much does it say about her... erm... &lt;i&gt;willful&lt;/i&gt; personality that both her mommy and daddy looked at one another in relief that she had shown her first real sense of concern?  Oh, Macey, you little stinker.  I love ya, girl!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4540114132549654332-7696325003884557174?l=milesandmacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://milesandmacey.blogspot.com/feeds/7696325003884557174/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4540114132549654332&amp;postID=7696325003884557174&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4540114132549654332/posts/default/7696325003884557174?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4540114132549654332/posts/default/7696325003884557174?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MilesAndMacey/~3/hx7GQ9zaXFo/macey-humanitarian.html" title="Macey, the Humanitarian" /><author><name>Tara Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16411429692705242695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://milesandmacey.blogspot.com/2010/02/macey-humanitarian.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0IDR3Yzeip7ImA9WxBXF0U.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4540114132549654332.post-8330706375844478601</id><published>2010-01-29T11:14:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-29T11:19:36.882-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-01-29T11:19:36.882-06:00</app:edited><title>Macey's Beautiful Picture</title><content type="html">&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IAAV2EnD9lY/S2MYlQXT1BI/AAAAAAAAAsM/ex3bS6qeDMg/s1600-h/Macey%27s+picture.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IAAV2EnD9lY/S2MYlQXT1BI/AAAAAAAAAsM/ex3bS6qeDMg/s320/Macey%27s+picture.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432212603865912338" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IAAV2EnD9lY/S2MX6ZDqDVI/AAAAAAAAAsE/kBPuCU8WpMM/s1600-h/IMAG0052.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;b&gt;Here's how the conversation went:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom:  "Can I see the picture you were painting?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Macey:  "Yeah, I'll show you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom:  "Oh, wow... what happened?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Macey:  "It broke."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4540114132549654332-8330706375844478601?l=milesandmacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://milesandmacey.blogspot.com/feeds/8330706375844478601/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4540114132549654332&amp;postID=8330706375844478601&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4540114132549654332/posts/default/8330706375844478601?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4540114132549654332/posts/default/8330706375844478601?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MilesAndMacey/~3/D_TKvI6j6iQ/maceys-beautiful-picture.html" title="Macey's Beautiful Picture" /><author><name>Tara Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16411429692705242695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IAAV2EnD9lY/S2MYlQXT1BI/AAAAAAAAAsM/ex3bS6qeDMg/s72-c/Macey%27s+picture.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://milesandmacey.blogspot.com/2010/01/maceys-beautiful-picture.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUEDSHk8eyp7ImA9WxBSFkU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4540114132549654332.post-3862172429706257747</id><published>2009-12-24T14:41:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-24T14:47:59.773-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-12-24T14:47:59.773-06:00</app:edited><title>God and Santa</title><content type="html">Brett, Miles, and I were walking through the woods, discussing the relative competency of "girls."  I pointed out that girls can be very smart. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, but &lt;i&gt;you're&lt;/i&gt; not smarter than Daddy," Miles retorted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh really?  How do you know?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Because nobody's smarter than Daddy except God and Santa."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4540114132549654332-3862172429706257747?l=milesandmacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://milesandmacey.blogspot.com/feeds/3862172429706257747/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4540114132549654332&amp;postID=3862172429706257747&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4540114132549654332/posts/default/3862172429706257747?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4540114132549654332/posts/default/3862172429706257747?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MilesAndMacey/~3/cZq94T0XzPE/god-and-santa.html" title="God and Santa" /><author><name>Tara Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16411429692705242695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://milesandmacey.blogspot.com/2009/12/god-and-santa.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ak4AQnw_eyp7ImA9WxBSE0s.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4540114132549654332.post-2876739700490196177</id><published>2009-12-20T21:15:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-20T22:15:43.243-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-12-20T22:15:43.243-06:00</app:edited><title>Mother-of-the-Year or Future Therapy Talking Point?</title><content type="html">I'm not a bad mom, I swear.  It's just that... well, kids are so &lt;i&gt;dumb&lt;/i&gt;.  And my kitchen floor was really dirty.  I can explain...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the kids and I often play this game where they're at "school" and I'm the teacher, Mrs. Smith.  A few days ago, I was trying to make dinner, but they wanted my attention.  So I gave them a couple buckets of soapy water and some old t-shirts, stripped them to their underwear, and let them slide around on the kitchen floor until it got clean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This all made a lot of sense until yesterday, when the kids started asking me outside our house, "Mrs. Smith, can we please wash the kitchen floor again?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's almost as bad as the rule Macey has taken out of context.  She always decides she wants to cuddle right after she's eaten a particularly messy meal.  So I made this innocent little rule where she's not allowed to touch me while her hands are sticky - she has to wash them first.  That backfired, though, when she started asking me at random times around others, "Mommy, can I touch you please?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4540114132549654332-2876739700490196177?l=milesandmacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://milesandmacey.blogspot.com/feeds/2876739700490196177/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4540114132549654332&amp;postID=2876739700490196177&amp;isPopup=true" title="5 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4540114132549654332/posts/default/2876739700490196177?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4540114132549654332/posts/default/2876739700490196177?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MilesAndMacey/~3/sgu5dDOE8Zc/mother-of-year-or-future-therapy.html" title="Mother-of-the-Year or Future Therapy Talking Point?" /><author><name>Tara Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16411429692705242695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>5</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://milesandmacey.blogspot.com/2009/12/mother-of-year-or-future-therapy.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkcERHg7fCp7ImA9WxBTE04.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4540114132549654332.post-3414019843060542673</id><published>2009-12-08T21:01:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-08T21:40:05.604-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-12-08T21:40:05.604-06:00</app:edited><title>Miles Makes Some Observations on Fear</title><content type="html">&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IAAV2EnD9lY/Sx8UoCMnUsI/AAAAAAAAAqI/aLkUkj0Y_LQ/s1600-h/Addie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IAAV2EnD9lY/Sx8UoCMnUsI/AAAAAAAAAqI/aLkUkj0Y_LQ/s320/Addie.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413067955139728066" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This evening we had our annual church board dinner.  Miles and Macey were in childcare with some of the other kids, including adorable four-year old Addie (see picture), who has recently decided that she intends to kiss Miles and marry him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Brett picked the kids up this evening, Miles was a little troubled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Dad, I don't like girls."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh?  Why not?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I am very afraid of them." (Macey in the background:  "I'm not afraid of them!  I'm not afraid of them!")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brett, chuckling:  "That's not fear, son."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, I think I am very afraid of them."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why do you think you're so afraid of them?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"'Cause they just want to give kisses."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh they do?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah.  It's their secret weapon... I don't have anything like that.  Boys just have guns and swords."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4540114132549654332-3414019843060542673?l=milesandmacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://milesandmacey.blogspot.com/feeds/3414019843060542673/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4540114132549654332&amp;postID=3414019843060542673&amp;isPopup=true" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4540114132549654332/posts/default/3414019843060542673?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4540114132549654332/posts/default/3414019843060542673?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MilesAndMacey/~3/JYFk4sikp-0/miles-makes-some-observations-on-fear.html" title="Miles Makes Some Observations on Fear" /><author><name>Tara Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16411429692705242695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IAAV2EnD9lY/Sx8UoCMnUsI/AAAAAAAAAqI/aLkUkj0Y_LQ/s72-c/Addie.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://milesandmacey.blogspot.com/2009/12/miles-makes-some-observations-on-fear.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0ABQnc6cSp7ImA9WxBbGU8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4540114132549654332.post-758958915908274564</id><published>2009-12-06T11:40:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-18T11:29:13.919-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-18T11:29:13.919-05:00</app:edited><title>Macey Can't Be Bothered To Keep It Straight</title><content type="html">Random comment on the way out from church:  "You are Mommy, and the other one is Daddy."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4540114132549654332-758958915908274564?l=milesandmacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://milesandmacey.blogspot.com/feeds/758958915908274564/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4540114132549654332&amp;postID=758958915908274564&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4540114132549654332/posts/default/758958915908274564?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4540114132549654332/posts/default/758958915908274564?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MilesAndMacey/~3/0oaBpbOBNpg/macey-cant-be-bothered-to-keep-it.html" title="Macey Can't Be Bothered To Keep It Straight" /><author><name>Tara Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16411429692705242695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://milesandmacey.blogspot.com/2009/12/macey-cant-be-bothered-to-keep-it.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0AMR3o4fCp7ImA9WxBbGU8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4540114132549654332.post-1902692437497417186</id><published>2009-12-05T13:22:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-18T11:29:46.434-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-18T11:29:46.434-05:00</app:edited><title>It Might Be Funny</title><content type="html">Macey was playing with a needle-and-thread set I'd had out to fix one of Miles' toys.  I said, "Oh no, Macey.  Don't play with that.  You might get hurt."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Or," said Macey without looking up, "it might be funny."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4540114132549654332-1902692437497417186?l=milesandmacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://milesandmacey.blogspot.com/feeds/1902692437497417186/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4540114132549654332&amp;postID=1902692437497417186&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4540114132549654332/posts/default/1902692437497417186?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4540114132549654332/posts/default/1902692437497417186?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MilesAndMacey/~3/sxG0gj0-JF4/it-might-be-funny.html" title="It Might Be Funny" /><author><name>Tara Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16411429692705242695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://milesandmacey.blogspot.com/2009/12/it-might-be-funny.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A08CQnszcCp7ImA9WxBbGU8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4540114132549654332.post-5571549579338770180</id><published>2009-11-20T10:47:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-18T11:31:03.588-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-18T11:31:03.588-05:00</app:edited><title>Macey's Mission</title><content type="html">A few nights ago, Brett and I were in the car discussing "Radical Mission," the non-profit organization Brett runs through our church.  Macey was in the back seat and had been pretty quiet until she chimed in, "&lt;b&gt;I&lt;/b&gt; have a mission."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I turned to look at her, surprised she even knew the word and thinking maybe she had picked up something insightful at Sunday School.  "Really?  What's your mission?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She looked out the window dramatically.  "Oh, it's about ducks and stuff."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4540114132549654332-5571549579338770180?l=milesandmacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://milesandmacey.blogspot.com/feeds/5571549579338770180/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4540114132549654332&amp;postID=5571549579338770180&amp;isPopup=true" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4540114132549654332/posts/default/5571549579338770180?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4540114132549654332/posts/default/5571549579338770180?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MilesAndMacey/~3/7NBlXg0NHps/maceys-mission.html" title="Macey's Mission" /><author><name>Tara Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16411429692705242695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://milesandmacey.blogspot.com/2009/11/maceys-mission.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A04CR387cSp7ImA9WxBbGU8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4540114132549654332.post-2739132611158708263</id><published>2009-11-06T23:16:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-18T11:32:46.109-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-18T11:32:46.109-05:00</app:edited><title>Macey's Promises</title><content type="html">Macey is always assuring me of random rules that it hadn't occurred to me to establish. Like, "We don't cut off our fingers," or "We don't eat paper." A few weeks ago, I pointed out a spider in our laundry room. The conversation started out about the same as usual:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Macey (solemnly): "We don't eat a spider."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom (distracted): "No, we would never eat a spider." (Pause.) "Wait... &lt;i&gt;would&lt;/i&gt; we ever eat a spider?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Macey: "Yes."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom: "When?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Macey: "Um, thirty minutes."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom: "Who was with you when you ate the spider?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Macey: "Miss Rene."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom: "What did she say when you ate it?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Macey (matter-of-factly): "She said 'ew'."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4540114132549654332-2739132611158708263?l=milesandmacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://milesandmacey.blogspot.com/feeds/2739132611158708263/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4540114132549654332&amp;postID=2739132611158708263&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4540114132549654332/posts/default/2739132611158708263?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4540114132549654332/posts/default/2739132611158708263?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MilesAndMacey/~3/DWXqBuBNhrQ/maceys-promises.html" title="Macey's Promises" /><author><name>Tara Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16411429692705242695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://milesandmacey.blogspot.com/2009/11/maceys-promises.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkcBRXk5cCp7ImA9WxBbGU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4540114132549654332.post-5242229171780144087</id><published>2009-09-21T21:20:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-18T11:34:14.728-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-18T11:34:14.728-05:00</app:edited><title>Car Trip Chatter</title><content type="html">A couple of great moments on the drive to Indiana today:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Mom:  If you could be any kind of animal, what would you be, and why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Miles:  A cheetah, because I could run really fast!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Macey:  A tiger, 'cause rawr.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, later, when we'd been on the road several hours and morale was low, Macey ran out of things to tattle on Miles about.  I knew she'd hit the bottom of the barrel when she fussed, "Miles is... um... looking at horses, Mom!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4540114132549654332-5242229171780144087?l=milesandmacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://milesandmacey.blogspot.com/feeds/5242229171780144087/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4540114132549654332&amp;postID=5242229171780144087&amp;isPopup=true" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4540114132549654332/posts/default/5242229171780144087?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4540114132549654332/posts/default/5242229171780144087?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MilesAndMacey/~3/wEoM25BLf2M/car-trip-chatter.html" title="Car Trip Chatter" /><author><name>Tara Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16411429692705242695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>4</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://milesandmacey.blogspot.com/2009/09/car-trip-chatter.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkQAQHk-eip7ImA9WxNQEkQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4540114132549654332.post-7408126166741068501</id><published>2009-09-18T11:08:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-18T11:12:21.752-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-09-18T11:12:21.752-05:00</app:edited><title>My Blogging Strategy</title><content type="html">&lt;p align="justify"&gt;I feel my plan to alienate everyone who reads this blog by not updating for eight months is nearly complete.    Anyone up for some new Miles and Macey stories?  Anyone still know this blog exists?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4540114132549654332-7408126166741068501?l=milesandmacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://milesandmacey.blogspot.com/feeds/7408126166741068501/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4540114132549654332&amp;postID=7408126166741068501&amp;isPopup=true" title="6 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4540114132549654332/posts/default/7408126166741068501?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4540114132549654332/posts/default/7408126166741068501?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MilesAndMacey/~3/em7XCfG8-ic/my-blogging-strategy.html" title="My Blogging Strategy" /><author><name>Tara Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16411429692705242695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>6</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://milesandmacey.blogspot.com/2009/09/my-blogging-strategy.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkYAQnsycSp7ImA9WxBbGU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4540114132549654332.post-6654264280426089008</id><published>2009-04-03T09:57:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-18T11:35:43.599-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-18T11:35:43.599-05:00</app:edited><title>Throwing Rocks</title><content type="html">I have proof that Miles and Macey are not dead.  I saw them recently.  Although their parents don't update about their lives, I thought I should.  Maybe it will get the ball rolling.  If I had video of the following story, I would post it.  That is most likely because I'm a mean uncle, and I think that pictures of my nephews like &lt;a href="http://calmiller.blogspot.com/2009/03/fire-sniffing-dragon.html"&gt;this one&lt;/a&gt; are really really funny.  Here is goes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Miles and Macey came to visit last weekend.  We had a great time with them.  Macey is as rotton as ever, and Miles is growing up way too fast.  I got to see his soccer video, and I was so proud of the way that he played.  He played way above his age group, outside of the cluster of other 4 year olds that attacked the ball, waiting for a pass, and then would make a break for the goal.   He had all his teams shots on goal, and 2 goals (although the blind ref only counted one of them).  We took Miles to a bridge near Kevin and Teresa's to throw some large rocks off the bridge because that is really fun.  Miles selected a rock that was about the size of half his head.  He proceeded to pick it up over his head to throw it in the water.  Unfortunately it was a touch too heavy for him, so instead of throwing the rock in the water he dropped the rock on his head.  He cried a touch, but was actually okay very quickly, in my book that makes this a funny story, not a sad story.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4540114132549654332-6654264280426089008?l=milesandmacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://milesandmacey.blogspot.com/feeds/6654264280426089008/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4540114132549654332&amp;postID=6654264280426089008&amp;isPopup=true" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4540114132549654332/posts/default/6654264280426089008?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4540114132549654332/posts/default/6654264280426089008?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MilesAndMacey/~3/eFvldl_Qnn4/throwing-rocks.html" title="Throwing Rocks" /><author><name>Richard McElroy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06624731034052693028</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://milesandmacey.blogspot.com/2009/04/throwing-rocks.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkYDRXs8fyp7ImA9WxBbGU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4540114132549654332.post-660209783556134301</id><published>2009-01-21T14:48:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-18T11:36:14.577-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-18T11:36:14.577-05:00</app:edited><title>We're the Winner</title><content type="html">So today we took the kids through the drive through at BackYard Burger for a quick lunch.  As I was ordering Miles was apparently watching over my shoulder on the order display screen.  As I finalized the order, the clerk said, "Your total is $15.93" and the display flashed "$15.93" on the screen.  Miles said with glee, "Wow, we sure got alot of points on that one huh dad!?!?!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously, the kid needs to get a job - soon....  : )&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4540114132549654332-660209783556134301?l=milesandmacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://milesandmacey.blogspot.com/feeds/660209783556134301/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4540114132549654332&amp;postID=660209783556134301&amp;isPopup=true" title="6 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4540114132549654332/posts/default/660209783556134301?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4540114132549654332/posts/default/660209783556134301?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MilesAndMacey/~3/b4DHzgjLJgQ/were-winner.html" title="We're the Winner" /><author><name>the dad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13673150355150570672</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>6</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://milesandmacey.blogspot.com/2009/01/were-winner.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkUGQHc6eyp7ImA9WxBbGU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4540114132549654332.post-3502398085083797205</id><published>2009-01-14T22:14:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-18T11:37:01.913-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-18T11:37:01.913-05:00</app:edited><title>The red coats are coming! The red coats are coming!!</title><content type="html">We recently moved Macey into a toddler bed which has so far proven to complicate the whole sleeping event.  At 12:44 a.m. the comforting hum of static in the baby monitor was shattered, as was my sound sleep, by a long drawn out "mooooommmmmmyyyyy" - oh boy, just wait it out, it could be a false alarm, just sleep talking or something.  It came again this time a bit louder and more concerned "mommmmyyyyy??!!??"  Mommy never wakes up mind you, unless I give her a convincing shove in the ribs.  I was still holding out hope that perhaps that little sleep thief would just doze off again.  No such luck, the final cry came - this time louder but muffled sounding "moooommmmmyyyyyy!!!!!!".  I rolled out of bed, mumbling about how lame it is that kids don't just sleep soundly, or feed themselves, or change their own diapers, or get a job....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I opened the door and my eyes adjusted to the night light I could see that Macey was not in her bed, but was still moaning unintelligibly.  I spotted her laying on her face in the middle of her bedroom floor.  There my was my little Paul Revere, half way laying on the floor draped over the top of her rocking horse (which had fallen over).  Not sure at all what she was doing in that position at 12:44 this morning but she looked terribly uncomfortable and sounded the way I would imagine a person would sound if they were thrown from their rocking horse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is just another joy of parenting, thought I would share.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4540114132549654332-3502398085083797205?l=milesandmacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://milesandmacey.blogspot.com/feeds/3502398085083797205/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4540114132549654332&amp;postID=3502398085083797205&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4540114132549654332/posts/default/3502398085083797205?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4540114132549654332/posts/default/3502398085083797205?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MilesAndMacey/~3/thYJbITy9wU/red-coats-are-coming-red-coats-are.html" title="The red coats are coming! The red coats are coming!!" /><author><name>the dad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13673150355150570672</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://milesandmacey.blogspot.com/2009/01/red-coats-are-coming-red-coats-are.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkUARn45fCp7ImA9WxBbGU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4540114132549654332.post-5863562177997135728</id><published>2008-12-21T18:39:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-18T11:37:27.024-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-18T11:37:27.024-05:00</app:edited><title>Because I said so......</title><content type="html">We were gathered to watch Elf the movie and my daughter recognized me on the TV - I was starring in an Iron Gym infomercial - She screamed "daddy!!!" as she pointed at a perfectly sculpted man doing chin ups.  What a sweetheart!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not two minutes later as Elf came on the screen, a small troll of an elf came on the TV and Miles screamed "daddy!!!".  What a chump!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess it's just hard to know sometimes how our kids are perceiving us - except when they make it this easy.  Merry Christmas to me!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4540114132549654332-5863562177997135728?l=milesandmacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://milesandmacey.blogspot.com/feeds/5863562177997135728/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4540114132549654332&amp;postID=5863562177997135728&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4540114132549654332/posts/default/5863562177997135728?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4540114132549654332/posts/default/5863562177997135728?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MilesAndMacey/~3/F43yzwq_cT8/because-i-said-so.html" title="Because I said so......" /><author><name>the dad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13673150355150570672</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://milesandmacey.blogspot.com/2008/12/because-i-said-so.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkUMSXgzfyp7ImA9WxBbGU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4540114132549654332.post-4313716296547608441</id><published>2008-12-18T10:30:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-18T11:38:08.687-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-18T11:38:08.687-05:00</app:edited><title>Thursday Feature:  Dear Miles</title><content type="html">I didn't have a question to ask Miles today, but fortunately he supplied one for me.  He's got to be the only kid in the world who regards the story about Santa Claus with suspicion:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;A few nights ago I was tucking him in and he looked troubled.  "What's wrong?"  I asked him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mommy, why is Santa Claus so.... so &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;sneaky&lt;/span&gt;?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What?  Sneaky!?  What do you mean?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why does Santa not want you to tell me what my Christmas presents are?  I just... you... like... you don't have to give them to me.  Just tell me what they are."&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told him I can't tell him what his presents are, but I'll have to think about why Santa Claus is so sneaky.  So what, dear reader, do you think my answer should be?  I'll ask him again later tonight when I tuck him in and see if he's thought of a solution.  I'll post his response in the "comments" section.  (Facebook readers, you can see comments in the blog itself - www.milesandmacey.blogspot.com.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4540114132549654332-4313716296547608441?l=milesandmacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://milesandmacey.blogspot.com/feeds/4313716296547608441/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4540114132549654332&amp;postID=4313716296547608441&amp;isPopup=true" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4540114132549654332/posts/default/4313716296547608441?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4540114132549654332/posts/default/4313716296547608441?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MilesAndMacey/~3/AJ1nOBebkSE/thursday-feature-dear-miles_18.html" title="Thursday Feature:  Dear Miles" /><author><name>Tara Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16411429692705242695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>4</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://milesandmacey.blogspot.com/2008/12/thursday-feature-dear-miles_18.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0QHR387eyp7ImA9WxRaFEg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4540114132549654332.post-2550602732452169649</id><published>2008-12-16T14:02:00.013-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-16T14:28:56.103-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-12-16T14:28:56.103-06:00</app:edited><title>What I Miss Out On While At Work</title><content type="html">&lt;p align=justify&gt;Macey is sick today, so I stayed home from work with both the kids.  Sometimes I wonder if we're not paying the day care enough.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align=center&gt;----------------------------------------------------&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align=justify&gt;&lt;i&gt;Cartoon character on TV:&lt;/i&gt;  "Let me get you some hot tea."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Miles:&lt;/i&gt;  "Did he say hot &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;pee&lt;/span&gt;?  Ewwwwwwwwwww!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Macey [chanting delightedly in the background]:&lt;/i&gt; "Hot pee!  Hot pee!"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align=center&gt;----------------------------------------------------&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align=justify&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Later, after a particularly startling moment on the cartoon...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Miles:&lt;/i&gt;  Whoa.  That made me poot a little.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Macey [wandering aimlessly down the hallway and still sweetly singing]:&lt;/i&gt;  "Hot pee!  Hot pee!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4540114132549654332-2550602732452169649?l=milesandmacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://milesandmacey.blogspot.com/feeds/2550602732452169649/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4540114132549654332&amp;postID=2550602732452169649&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4540114132549654332/posts/default/2550602732452169649?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4540114132549654332/posts/default/2550602732452169649?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MilesAndMacey/~3/j-0A6dAoyis/what-i-miss-out-on-while-at-work.html" title="What I Miss Out On While At Work" /><author><name>Tara Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16411429692705242695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://milesandmacey.blogspot.com/2008/12/what-i-miss-out-on-while-at-work.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEMBSH4yeip7ImA9WxRbFUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4540114132549654332.post-4490289217480272175</id><published>2008-12-06T11:53:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-06T12:00:59.092-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-12-06T12:00:59.092-06:00</app:edited><title>New Lexicon Words</title><content type="html">&lt;p align=justify&gt;I've added two new words to the Miles Lexicon. One of them is particularly timely, so be sure to look to the right&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;(this way --------------------------------------------&gt; )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;for a great new addition your Christmas vocabulary this year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you usually read these on Facebook, be sure to scoot on over to the blog (www.milesandmacey.blogspot.com) to see the Miles Lexicon.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4540114132549654332-4490289217480272175?l=milesandmacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://milesandmacey.blogspot.com/feeds/4490289217480272175/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4540114132549654332&amp;postID=4490289217480272175&amp;isPopup=true" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4540114132549654332/posts/default/4490289217480272175?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4540114132549654332/posts/default/4490289217480272175?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MilesAndMacey/~3/OJd9wG_2OzI/new-lexicon-words.html" title="New Lexicon Words" /><author><name>Tara Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16411429692705242695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>4</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://milesandmacey.blogspot.com/2008/12/new-lexicon-words.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0cBRHk4eip7ImA9WxRbFEU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4540114132549654332.post-722342612854432123</id><published>2008-12-04T17:51:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-05T07:50:55.732-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-12-05T07:50:55.732-06:00</app:edited><title>Thursday Feature:  Dear Miles</title><content type="html">&lt;p align=justify&gt;I admit I've put this one off for awhile, but April Shrum really set me up with a loaded question:  "Dear Miles, Where do babies come from?"  (Thanks a lot, April!!)  It went something like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Babies come from heaven," Miles answered without even looking up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh," I said.  "So how do we get them here?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, mommies and daddies drive to heaven to get them.  Well, first the baby grows inside someone's belly, then you take pictures and it comes out.  Then that one guy Jeff, he comes over to keep the house safe--"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I interrupted him, "You mean &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Pastor &lt;/span&gt;Jeff?"  (I have no idea where &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;that &lt;/span&gt;one came from...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah,that guy."  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So are you pretty sure a baby grows inside someone's belly?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah.  Probably a girl grows inside your belly, but I'm not sure about a boy.  I'll have to ask Dad.  He's pretty smart.  But I... I was born before him, so I'm smarter than him."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh we'll definitely have to talk to him about that.  So tell me one more time." I prodded him, "Do babies start out in heaven first or do they grow inside someone's belly first?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He gave me a withering sigh.  "It's both, Mom.  Heaven is inside people's bellies."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4540114132549654332-722342612854432123?l=milesandmacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://milesandmacey.blogspot.com/feeds/722342612854432123/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4540114132549654332&amp;postID=722342612854432123&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4540114132549654332/posts/default/722342612854432123?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4540114132549654332/posts/default/722342612854432123?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MilesAndMacey/~3/Ir0A6HHq17Y/thursday-feature-dear-miles.html" title="Thursday Feature:  Dear Miles" /><author><name>Tara Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16411429692705242695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://milesandmacey.blogspot.com/2008/12/thursday-feature-dear-miles.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkMDQno-fip7ImA9WxBbGU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4540114132549654332.post-7126788120901944099</id><published>2008-11-28T21:38:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-18T11:41:13.456-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-18T11:41:13.456-05:00</app:edited><title>Because I said so......</title><content type="html">I was driving with the kids this evening and the newness of Christmas lights still gets Miles gloriously excited.  As we drove by a neighbors brightly lit nativity scene Miles yelled excitedly, "Dad look! It's God!  He, he's right there in those peoples yard!"  I said, being sure to emphasize that Jesus was there in the manger - and he is God, "yes, Miles, there is Jesus in the manger."  This was a typical nativity scene with the Mary and Joseph and donkey and cow present.  Miles was still so surprised as I responded he finished by saying "Holy Cow!  They have God in their yard".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4540114132549654332-7126788120901944099?l=milesandmacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://milesandmacey.blogspot.com/feeds/7126788120901944099/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4540114132549654332&amp;postID=7126788120901944099&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4540114132549654332/posts/default/7126788120901944099?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4540114132549654332/posts/default/7126788120901944099?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MilesAndMacey/~3/kdnhhj0SAxo/because-i-said-so.html" title="Because I said so......" /><author><name>the dad</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13673150355150570672</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://milesandmacey.blogspot.com/2008/11/because-i-said-so.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUMNQn4zeip7ImA9WxRUFk4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4540114132549654332.post-8684246032848931449</id><published>2008-11-25T12:16:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-25T12:24:53.082-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-11-25T12:24:53.082-06:00</app:edited><title>A New Euphemism</title><content type="html">&lt;p align="justify"&gt;I was walking down the hallway past the open door to the bathroom when I saw Miles sitting on the toilet, with a particularly strained expression.  He noticed me and said, "It's okay, Mom.  I'm okay.  I just need to get this sorted out."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4540114132549654332-8684246032848931449?l=milesandmacey.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://milesandmacey.blogspot.com/feeds/8684246032848931449/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4540114132549654332&amp;postID=8684246032848931449&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4540114132549654332/posts/default/8684246032848931449?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4540114132549654332/posts/default/8684246032848931449?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MilesAndMacey/~3/ZpfGe4lXIYo/new-euphemism.html" title="A New Euphemism" /><author><name>Tara Smith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16411429692705242695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://milesandmacey.blogspot.com/2008/11/new-euphemism.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEIDQHo6fCp7ImA9WxRUEUg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4540114132549654332.post-3871059421593192960</id><published>2008-11-18T16:17:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-19T21:42:51.414-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-11-19T21:42:51.414-06:00</app:edited><title>Welcome to Miles' World</title><content type="html">For a slightly larger view, go to the &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UFTpfxY2PK0"&gt;YouTube version.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Otherwise, here ya go:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-3dbc3bd977d006f3" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;
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