tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-53591654801560742922024-03-14T03:09:07.391-07:00Messages for MalakaiNancy Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12808106113537248432noreply@blogger.comBlogger18125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359165480156074292.post-64571865818324307552016-09-24T06:22:00.002-07:002016-09-24T06:22:21.889-07:00Three years later...Boy, are there a lot of stories I could share with you...<br />
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You are now living in an apt in FL with mom and your new step-dad, Rich Nunez, Jr. I hope you are happy and have fun in your new school, neighborhood, making new friends. I know you probably miss your old friends, but I'll post a photo of them so you don't forget them.,<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLSu89ChoUKVgewWiX-jnE0Vy5QE4wZjK59q232n99Mfv4218aJNayEMqk1hqdSrXe6sTAvRzUINsOe8ZzNmE2wfbnfeG57A-kydZYk12oH6fGet-QgpRg0kWyqRSoBg4EoxiC9X4-XRA/s1600/DSCN1539.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLSu89ChoUKVgewWiX-jnE0Vy5QE4wZjK59q232n99Mfv4218aJNayEMqk1hqdSrXe6sTAvRzUINsOe8ZzNmE2wfbnfeG57A-kydZYk12oH6fGet-QgpRg0kWyqRSoBg4EoxiC9X4-XRA/s320/DSCN1539.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtIUYNk2kDb5lwj7S4FSE1fhDPQBpIS_6n13V0IKXAb0UUe0k8vaB9-GykpA0ugGdbUhEk__4PLnamaljmzNJboj4Cm-_gYtnab7A56jbgwzklhOp6m2GxC6NCT2m5tJl859uy12-Eefo/s1600/DSCN1540.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtIUYNk2kDb5lwj7S4FSE1fhDPQBpIS_6n13V0IKXAb0UUe0k8vaB9-GykpA0ugGdbUhEk__4PLnamaljmzNJboj4Cm-_gYtnab7A56jbgwzklhOp6m2GxC6NCT2m5tJl859uy12-Eefo/s320/DSCN1540.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Neighborhood buddies on Falknor Drive. left to right: One of the Martin's grandchildren, Garrett, Carson, Ryan, the other Martin grandson, Malakai. (If you know them better- I always mix up Garret and Carson), put them in.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPOIdQuWAlBlWsINAxCRuxkndf3DXfX9EX8hEGHmQYVs3jyK77uC2nqJMEAgew6OpOpp0HaAoMK-2vs5MGiwaFt_5mXAWxE9elmDzc0_NiTK_Q-g1vw5COLACjhizt8tOLmtaRKup77d0/s1600/DSCN1570.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPOIdQuWAlBlWsINAxCRuxkndf3DXfX9EX8hEGHmQYVs3jyK77uC2nqJMEAgew6OpOpp0HaAoMK-2vs5MGiwaFt_5mXAWxE9elmDzc0_NiTK_Q-g1vw5COLACjhizt8tOLmtaRKup77d0/s320/DSCN1570.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Great-great-Aunt Norma and great uncle Bob Smith. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyhzF_X_uKFL30DjPOKcwfLmrfv1VOV4LkoX3C5QndU_2fqOWlKA7nLn9YC5-RlLHgTBHlseAtCUYFxH6syPjmcC6_B8uyXbUksFCl9srnsM_5ELRbP9B29fQIcpgukyYrMB7MCzT_31A/s1600/DSCN1572.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyhzF_X_uKFL30DjPOKcwfLmrfv1VOV4LkoX3C5QndU_2fqOWlKA7nLn9YC5-RlLHgTBHlseAtCUYFxH6syPjmcC6_B8uyXbUksFCl9srnsM_5ELRbP9B29fQIcpgukyYrMB7MCzT_31A/s320/DSCN1572.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Great Aunt Paula (on wall) and Sheila (She-she) and Randy Brown<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoYwQWvSm8n4KvXkapd9yTMQZFEL81ObsA8MI5sCBTX_ETHLw9Dqn3E9r2YxAv6C-BrF6Upbu7J4rdDxALZhyphenhyphenYwrbNAYIDXXZ_Q9_7rq7lV6L2obrBL20NwUGG5Vsu-iVfZ3i9_ReF4gw/s1600/DSCN1574.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoYwQWvSm8n4KvXkapd9yTMQZFEL81ObsA8MI5sCBTX_ETHLw9Dqn3E9r2YxAv6C-BrF6Upbu7J4rdDxALZhyphenhyphenYwrbNAYIDXXZ_Q9_7rq7lV6L2obrBL20NwUGG5Vsu-iVfZ3i9_ReF4gw/s320/DSCN1574.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Papa, Great Aunt Janet holding cousin Elaina, Aunt Leslie, and Great Aunt Paula.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb1Hq1iubGx4gWXsrYlMyP8siNuEjoubasAg6AYSLLj58p0tT5IDqdeET5j74LxlSWeMtgZpkxzjprHhhyphenhyphenjb3WQM3A3sPkqXFdLEmz1fTzO7Wz6tskVpEorWVYdCbfuzRIWmzH7XUUru0/s1600/DSCN1575.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb1Hq1iubGx4gWXsrYlMyP8siNuEjoubasAg6AYSLLj58p0tT5IDqdeET5j74LxlSWeMtgZpkxzjprHhhyphenhyphenjb3WQM3A3sPkqXFdLEmz1fTzO7Wz6tskVpEorWVYdCbfuzRIWmzH7XUUru0/s320/DSCN1575.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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All the cousins (Zach and Jonathan on your scooters)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4LYrkPNSxfTNt2LsYLDu6yvx-ZUZpuDlFlVvLKrFWpNFvg1QdXxoTRUonjIXJWr9MeYWhaAHyi5hLYGVDZ7Xw-lDhyphenhyphenzujRwPgg8-NK50IcZ7y-s9o-SM73yAIkP_g5XE1mjqDgaycFcY/s1600/DSCN1576.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4LYrkPNSxfTNt2LsYLDu6yvx-ZUZpuDlFlVvLKrFWpNFvg1QdXxoTRUonjIXJWr9MeYWhaAHyi5hLYGVDZ7Xw-lDhyphenhyphenzujRwPgg8-NK50IcZ7y-s9o-SM73yAIkP_g5XE1mjqDgaycFcY/s320/DSCN1576.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Aidan, Finn and Malakai<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihk_hAPOx0NNoMXd9D0Sj4Nl0iVS-u9h97MvQdU_YnuwNjusuQCpPO_Qnngig3Fw3wAXWQ1R-2OZMnyEbkSUnx_ripFBRjLeaKPFGKTKnTheBwTJo2QNP3ibo0SIdBESekgYcR-5elE8s/s1600/DSCN1577.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihk_hAPOx0NNoMXd9D0Sj4Nl0iVS-u9h97MvQdU_YnuwNjusuQCpPO_Qnngig3Fw3wAXWQ1R-2OZMnyEbkSUnx_ripFBRjLeaKPFGKTKnTheBwTJo2QNP3ibo0SIdBESekgYcR-5elE8s/s320/DSCN1577.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Uncle Jason and Mom<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPO-iTBCdbZjdWCFSw-FN7lIDRXn-Ul9mogPjJOvIl2o9kkNLYlkvgSklC74eo-RlCVE77BaW4Fw_24W5QWs31xTWXpMgJp4HUWZwUzWp2YtBKFZMQynKTXYytIlIXTuUZggeuWp8FhmI/s1600/DSCN1578.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPO-iTBCdbZjdWCFSw-FN7lIDRXn-Ul9mogPjJOvIl2o9kkNLYlkvgSklC74eo-RlCVE77BaW4Fw_24W5QWs31xTWXpMgJp4HUWZwUzWp2YtBKFZMQynKTXYytIlIXTuUZggeuWp8FhmI/s320/DSCN1578.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
Photos of all the families....<br />
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Uncle Jason, Auntie Emma and Phoebe, Felix and Finn. (with Aia=dan Zach and Jonathan<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJzarTPRxOjYuoAtyqw1X2xpBakdMW65mdl7aUJ0HvDuM0JrVVoZC-pU1ByYQ5PKPA-JZHbbj4HaciBP0RjtYOj2Z24I0TUHss1eT62BERhWvdTyHrXJDQQjH0fIyQpZiYSj1dY16E2mw/s1600/DSCN1584.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="264" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJzarTPRxOjYuoAtyqw1X2xpBakdMW65mdl7aUJ0HvDuM0JrVVoZC-pU1ByYQ5PKPA-JZHbbj4HaciBP0RjtYOj2Z24I0TUHss1eT62BERhWvdTyHrXJDQQjH0fIyQpZiYSj1dY16E2mw/s320/DSCN1584.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Cousins....<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidJfNkqNsLVe8w62lYUfxQq-EcsaGpm-zlWyWIGqjMw9fWntMk8eIPl1EOq-GKLmevvGcWwq8UalzI0Zlku-2Cq56nBP4CortUp7nqGLCPLdPCUK7Y_Lkho7vhci8MkkqvnS4eI76h27I/s1600/DSCN1586.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidJfNkqNsLVe8w62lYUfxQq-EcsaGpm-zlWyWIGqjMw9fWntMk8eIPl1EOq-GKLmevvGcWwq8UalzI0Zlku-2Cq56nBP4CortUp7nqGLCPLdPCUK7Y_Lkho7vhci8MkkqvnS4eI76h27I/s320/DSCN1586.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Stretch!!!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyDHmO6yyHhWaxjxIFJynFThiY0qqN3XldmquST89GZILjCZQvNpAwxstjNk6ulZ_tNWYkgJUyHdqrxpeikUh2LfpP4aEtun5UMBt8OPPrV7Qy6Giu3F14YUnIXsF_fwnYZsWQhNweiis/s1600/DSCN1595.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyDHmO6yyHhWaxjxIFJynFThiY0qqN3XldmquST89GZILjCZQvNpAwxstjNk6ulZ_tNWYkgJUyHdqrxpeikUh2LfpP4aEtun5UMBt8OPPrV7Qy6Giu3F14YUnIXsF_fwnYZsWQhNweiis/s320/DSCN1595.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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The girls....<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlzuNjq3FRp4jSlefbpvqABXfxxVAq27EYe8MbN5AH1ZDdCcHpnoHvx3xONLQndXU_Se4JV4hEiseghP4nNnONkQ_IMucNW8hInXbxbqF0F5OCa7paN42H2BUqkimVeZSEFg1aid8JQzo/s1600/DSCN1596.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlzuNjq3FRp4jSlefbpvqABXfxxVAq27EYe8MbN5AH1ZDdCcHpnoHvx3xONLQndXU_Se4JV4hEiseghP4nNnONkQ_IMucNW8hInXbxbqF0F5OCa7paN42H2BUqkimVeZSEFg1aid8JQzo/s320/DSCN1596.JPG" width="318" /></a></div>
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Mom with her cousin Nick and girlfriend,<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV9VoeXeX9wj8PXQ6CpRckSFx1hAr4-q4aTSzYmLvKWRGP4SzjxwlgqpM-nmKk6kXfqua_10LwW_7FDdMyX1mBM3U7MHUtnE-PoOFt4T11abdVs1Y1fvMD4Xfc8Q9jkc0yUuifLjO3FG8/s1600/DSCN1602.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV9VoeXeX9wj8PXQ6CpRckSFx1hAr4-q4aTSzYmLvKWRGP4SzjxwlgqpM-nmKk6kXfqua_10LwW_7FDdMyX1mBM3U7MHUtnE-PoOFt4T11abdVs1Y1fvMD4Xfc8Q9jkc0yUuifLjO3FG8/s320/DSCN1602.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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Great Uncle Tom and mom.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi55nwIEaRvFCs-Erno7JoDqUl47Wr2riHZRx3q27T0tDOWi0Uew82v2E_Qbich6ZJ223sZeUFx9enx42tDsnkrytgkMtSMDYT9-oi6SE57SUDZc_k6of2ng1LQ07I66ukwcg4UzweUwq0/s1600/DSCN1604.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi55nwIEaRvFCs-Erno7JoDqUl47Wr2riHZRx3q27T0tDOWi0Uew82v2E_Qbich6ZJ223sZeUFx9enx42tDsnkrytgkMtSMDYT9-oi6SE57SUDZc_k6of2ng1LQ07I66ukwcg4UzweUwq0/s320/DSCN1604.JPG" width="199" /></a></div>
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Mom, Gramma Smith and her caretaker, Patricia,.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdVHh1zijytusj5xrz6b0RSAnS1HT5I_qqXWH-w4dvsojAn9q5wIYFbN7Frz_fUjBvPCmdgMZaAvW6THPyYVsXcc9zAeefjbM6D0uU81t57SwOj8X58biUOl3B8_eXnWA2ry5YxFeGBL8/s1600/DSCN1605.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdVHh1zijytusj5xrz6b0RSAnS1HT5I_qqXWH-w4dvsojAn9q5wIYFbN7Frz_fUjBvPCmdgMZaAvW6THPyYVsXcc9zAeefjbM6D0uU81t57SwOj8X58biUOl3B8_eXnWA2ry5YxFeGBL8/s320/DSCN1605.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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Three generations....<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_f-hvi1XZxBIkNIf1Bgi4Buz9MAmxlk5rbXnZj8LqxqGHcid378a11_8iu8KSLK5YEtzbQuqDzrXn4m9Id9oglw3x3PsPc00Mok3gD_FAwlpLSvleZN761mD7DgBH8sX-DC73KxWv8Fs/s1600/DSCN1609.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_f-hvi1XZxBIkNIf1Bgi4Buz9MAmxlk5rbXnZj8LqxqGHcid378a11_8iu8KSLK5YEtzbQuqDzrXn4m9Id9oglw3x3PsPc00Mok3gD_FAwlpLSvleZN761mD7DgBH8sX-DC73KxWv8Fs/s320/DSCN1609.JPG" width="290" /></a></div>
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Mom and sister, Leslie<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFxV0Xggmhmi9yTdQcis6WAbR_4v-rtdyixMPFFFZ8Hea1GgXde8bho18s3PbwIEtLTUlPIdgtW4j2aHei6l0ZEU71xKTqyENMFwIH48zNkhZMYQd5y12nlyIEPxqgXO64pjrSc617NSY/s1600/DSCN1611.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFxV0Xggmhmi9yTdQcis6WAbR_4v-rtdyixMPFFFZ8Hea1GgXde8bho18s3PbwIEtLTUlPIdgtW4j2aHei6l0ZEU71xKTqyENMFwIH48zNkhZMYQd5y12nlyIEPxqgXO64pjrSc617NSY/s320/DSCN1611.JPG" width="210" /></a></div>
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Goofing with you...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFyj997nrVP_TEfX1_Z0MUya63DRriH2kf7WH6NK1OIywIhpShMi-LBRzU4894TRr3mLgKJOtcSn8h1k2pa_yAcRcRWganC4xV2aEUc8-H3qhakyzaUjVOx9-SDqJYP2IhT9mLiqX207U/s1600/DSCN1613.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFyj997nrVP_TEfX1_Z0MUya63DRriH2kf7WH6NK1OIywIhpShMi-LBRzU4894TRr3mLgKJOtcSn8h1k2pa_yAcRcRWganC4xV2aEUc8-H3qhakyzaUjVOx9-SDqJYP2IhT9mLiqX207U/s320/DSCN1613.JPG" width="227" /></a></div>
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Attack mode.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrzmEDiWOPSunPOoIvK08I7R2PDS1GM8sFRZBxfHD6lqBZATxBhco5EaU8SuJ4U025W4ryVbQHRKB5HVYSX_dv_m5mQpEVx2MikKGhQ81ppG6N5nZ4PoulHV85dEwyfm6CboKKxn6RUs0/s1600/DSCN1617.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrzmEDiWOPSunPOoIvK08I7R2PDS1GM8sFRZBxfHD6lqBZATxBhco5EaU8SuJ4U025W4ryVbQHRKB5HVYSX_dv_m5mQpEVx2MikKGhQ81ppG6N5nZ4PoulHV85dEwyfm6CboKKxn6RUs0/s320/DSCN1617.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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"I'm not touching you...."<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbd0qq4-gfrPqEoY9BG7agtDQr6UenbJDlVTDUUVKnbBL3jXOzVZdn2d43CEWYw3c5MBsQ_U-HY8J4ezohmERbDVkl_XAFGcgFdrq9tOem1nzgi4YFC_YP8mZJDqryNaFsU2-rM4Jn7YY/s1600/DSCN1618.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbd0qq4-gfrPqEoY9BG7agtDQr6UenbJDlVTDUUVKnbBL3jXOzVZdn2d43CEWYw3c5MBsQ_U-HY8J4ezohmERbDVkl_XAFGcgFdrq9tOem1nzgi4YFC_YP8mZJDqryNaFsU2-rM4Jn7YY/s320/DSCN1618.JPG" width="268" /></a></div>
Nancy Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12808106113537248432noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359165480156074292.post-6363749428208993152013-03-11T06:15:00.004-07:002013-03-11T06:15:59.277-07:00That face!Wish I had a photo of the face you give when you are 'AGHAST"!... <br />
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Makes me think of my mom saying, "Your face is gonna freeze like that!" Hopefully not. It's such an angry/appalled look. I hope it isn't a sign of things to come in the teen years.<br />
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<img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yT509-3BfUI/USfUmtR4hfI/AAAAAAAAEhc/CrhxAGzswhE/s320/165.JPG" width="240" /> This is a smug look .... but not your usual one.</div>
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<img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-brQA8cceHYU/USfUiI_tBOI/AAAAAAAAEhE/VbrPMEO6pOc/s320/159.JPG" width="320" /> This is when you were running a fever (although chocolate donuts are good even if you get it between your eyes. LOL</div>
Nancy Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12808106113537248432noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359165480156074292.post-48316991288717020372012-07-05T09:08:00.002-07:002012-07-05T09:08:21.812-07:00Fun with Rhythym at Mary Cheney LibraryBoy did you have fun with this....<br />
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They are called, "Thrilling Thursdays" at the local library. Edward Leonard had you guys playing all his drums and percussion instruments sooooo LOUD that you'll notice some kids had their ears covered!! You got to switch to the left when he yelled "Switch"!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhArBEs2HQFQXTuSWabeCi1GnxaQoHSSwH2XQt-JnZFyANKI2pWJAOauxBRzxxJv3eO_01dL0lbuJ0nlqfut5-f9CLOK1YAOslQYiHwryi40n9Oo2TcU7Gu-D5B3piVEP-6MZv_aYuflcY/s1600/Fun+with+Rythym+++July+2012073.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhArBEs2HQFQXTuSWabeCi1GnxaQoHSSwH2XQt-JnZFyANKI2pWJAOauxBRzxxJv3eO_01dL0lbuJ0nlqfut5-f9CLOK1YAOslQYiHwryi40n9Oo2TcU7Gu-D5B3piVEP-6MZv_aYuflcY/s320/Fun+with+Rythym+++July+2012073.jpg" width="256" /></a></div>
You got so excited that your tongue did the normal "Roach thing".... stuck between your teeth, and the faster you went, the faster the tongue went, side to side! LOL.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I think you were surprised at the sound this made!</div>
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You even won a cape and mask in the weekly raffle! Lucky YOU!!</div>
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<br /></div>Nancy Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12808106113537248432noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359165480156074292.post-17471745749527373752012-07-05T08:55:00.000-07:002012-07-05T08:55:14.120-07:00Tooth Fairy Days & Riding bicyclesI haven't written to you in a while. Sorry... I love that you are at the stage of teeth falling out. You lost your first one May 2nd (Papa's and my 15th anniversary-- it happened in school), and the second one May 25th, but boy is this third one giving you a hard time. the first two were on the bottom (front) and the top ones are working their way loose, now. One is so loose it's hard for you to eat much. <br />
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Some how I remember putting mine under my pillow wrapped in kleenex and getting a few quarters. You got $2 for the first one (inflation) and .75 for the 2nd. Wonder how much this next one will be?<br />
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<br />
This summer you finally figured out how to ride your two-wheeler without training wheels. We took them off last year, but you just couldn't get it. Mom didn't always want to be outside with you, running after the bike, and truthfully, neither did I (I was usually making dinner when you asked to go out), but I was never sorry I did. We even decorated your bike for the 4th of July, just like I used to do with MY bike as a kid. (Sorry the flags that we stuck in your handles broke the first time you fell. That happens).<br />
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I really love being part of your life as you grow. I know you get grouchy when you have to come in, but we all did. You're my favorite boy, you know...Nancy Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12808106113537248432noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359165480156074292.post-69489931977907261652012-03-09T08:49:00.001-08:002012-03-09T08:51:27.351-08:00Maybe you should be a Nurse...?You are the most precious, loved little guy... I'm just saying....<br />
<br />
I was really sick the other day. Migraine, of which I suffer from occasionally (used to have much more than I do now), and was sick with it. I'd been sick a few times that morning (Tues) and thankfully, I was home from work anyway, but stayed laying low for the day. When you came home from kindergarten, you were pretty quiet (playing with your PSP- which I never liked, BTW), so I got to sleep upstairs in my bed for a while. <br />
<br />
I came downstairs to see how my stomach would be if I put some food in it. Not good. I decided to head upstairs soon after to end the night with more sleep. Now, I say this, because it's important. I, usually, tuck you in with either a story (sometimes a 'secret' story--those that I make up as I go along), a song, the Lord's Prayer, or a hug, ... all with the comment "Love you, don't let the bedbugs bite!"<br />
So anyways, I started to get off the couch and say goodnight to everyone, and you put down your PSP (I think you may have been told you'd been on it long enough), came over to me and put your arm around my waist and said, "I'll tuck you in, Gramma". <br />
<br />
Off we headed upstairs... me, trying to keep my bucket handy,in case...and you trying to 'help' me up the stairs. Once I got into bed, you were trying to have me turn on the light (light was not good for me), so you could sing me a song. I knew I was gonna get sick (which I did), and you were so concerned for me..."Can I see it, Gramma". "Are you okay?"... Try to puke, not laugh, not be able to talk,,...all at once. Once I was done getting sick in the bucket, I said I'd be back, I had to get rid of it (I even think you followed me and still wanted to see it"NO, Malakai, It's GROSS!!"). <br />
<br />
Off we were, back to bed again. This time I knew I wouldn't get sick, so I let you pull up the covers and you leaned over (almost in my face) to sing, very softly... "Abcd, efg, ..." all the way through the song. When you got done, you patted my hand (I wouldn't let you kiss my face right then), blew me a kiss and said "don't let the bedbugs bite. ...I love you. ...Hope you feel better, Gramma".... <br />
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How sweet it that?Nancy Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12808106113537248432noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359165480156074292.post-46890467169438184602012-02-05T04:23:00.000-08:002012-02-05T14:31:43.684-08:00Hey, .... You're 6!It's funny. You are 6 today on "Super Bowl Sunday" (BTW, the NY Giants and the New England Patriots are playing this year), and you were born on Super bowl Sunday. Cool, huh? Every time they say something on tv about 'super bowl', you suddenly voice, "Hey, they said my birthday!!"<br />
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I hope you know think every year <u><em>ON</em></u> Super Bowl Sunday, that it's your birthday...LOL. We'll humor you just so long, my little buddy. I can't wait until you wake up (you are still in bed), so I can give you your present (soft, fluffy bathrobe and Tonka digger - remote). We will have your party NEXT Sunday, as everyone seems as though they might have plans today. And since mom works all kinds of days including weekends, we'll do it at dinnertime. (4pm-7pm). Pizza, maybe some games, who knows).<br />
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This was a day when we were home on a Sat and you set up your 'band' on the kitchen floor. The problem arose when I finished making stuff in the kitchen and moved to the living room. It wasn't a problem for ME, just you had no audience for your band. So the next thing I hear is you asking me to help bring things in the living room so you could have me hear your 'concert' better (like I wouldn't hear BANGING pots and pans from the other room???!). I told you that you could do it yourself, and ...guess what? <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3UjBMdrmcTMfSx41d_R2se08zCFQxvX7Jh5PYy1ow_-iiP3RAHQTnMCCdtc3Z3mCNPP6dJI_gIrpjDXkcFdJyZ9Hp8inFzGvymxC34nZ-LxqNBUC8PpfcnleaP1EmISimGwxLcU98R2k/s1600/Kai+transporting+band+Jan+2012010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="314" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3UjBMdrmcTMfSx41d_R2se08zCFQxvX7Jh5PYy1ow_-iiP3RAHQTnMCCdtc3Z3mCNPP6dJI_gIrpjDXkcFdJyZ9Hp8inFzGvymxC34nZ-LxqNBUC8PpfcnleaP1EmISimGwxLcU98R2k/s320/Kai+transporting+band+Jan+2012010.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvxwVrYA8gq6T06iqnOumqEwINEWd6Ea0C3vwkIyJTv6X459Y8KyOZH6GgHBMNatNQgykXYtQ4zIQJcILrPUDwmcCOkqzwA2exGC7FUXjptdam4VN_hXiSTSxEYuNK5ojd6p739Y4Ugmk/s1600/Kai+transporting+band+Jan+2012012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvxwVrYA8gq6T06iqnOumqEwINEWd6Ea0C3vwkIyJTv6X459Y8KyOZH6GgHBMNatNQgykXYtQ4zIQJcILrPUDwmcCOkqzwA2exGC7FUXjptdam4VN_hXiSTSxEYuNK5ojd6p739Y4Ugmk/s200/Kai+transporting+band+Jan+2012012.jpg" width="150" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAd238nUQMoIJc8AfFO1rHTbt5VhgUIpF6Ao8Lq52A6pzhUFIg-YK5tFCwgwGP51XSX_Vbd93eozHtzAnUW0qwGmYeoObRy-vVUjB1e0Vth-CDKz1EmBAMZPZFYXtgkVmgcQ-JvOytRFA/s1600/Happy+6th+Birthday+Feb+5-2012011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAd238nUQMoIJc8AfFO1rHTbt5VhgUIpF6Ao8Lq52A6pzhUFIg-YK5tFCwgwGP51XSX_Vbd93eozHtzAnUW0qwGmYeoObRy-vVUjB1e0Vth-CDKz1EmBAMZPZFYXtgkVmgcQ-JvOytRFA/s200/Happy+6th+Birthday+Feb+5-2012011.jpg" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYcoWCbtS4YwpKkk1q4J4MnX-QUC7Y5SeRGFpXsq6DoYSDEtCxP_thsfdqjRaU9e4A2HgEIbuUYc4XwahKrnnkSmnIgQ0JrAWYYrcOJCW5i7od9wEYkB926LG11O01hNrclh1hWzkn_IQ/s1600/Happy+6th+Birthday+Feb+5+2012010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYcoWCbtS4YwpKkk1q4J4MnX-QUC7Y5SeRGFpXsq6DoYSDEtCxP_thsfdqjRaU9e4A2HgEIbuUYc4XwahKrnnkSmnIgQ0JrAWYYrcOJCW5i7od9wEYkB926LG11O01hNrclh1hWzkn_IQ/s200/Happy+6th+Birthday+Feb+5+2012010.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br />
You did.....dragged the whole things through the dining room, around the staircase, into the living room. And then proceeded to perform for me. Thanks for making me laugh!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEvWoBkhissV3tqmuAxSbi0wa2A3m6UDdqIaeBurquiQKZyskrcOQFy9lO2jbsNLQZleM5YIsOCvKqMXgm38fRMPjqp5I5Dy4dz3fY8EFPV1Ay2l72mjz95p1n2RuorulxHIdXTaKvh4Y/s1600/Happy+6th+Birthday+Feb+5-2012013.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEvWoBkhissV3tqmuAxSbi0wa2A3m6UDdqIaeBurquiQKZyskrcOQFy9lO2jbsNLQZleM5YIsOCvKqMXgm38fRMPjqp5I5Dy4dz3fY8EFPV1Ay2l72mjz95p1n2RuorulxHIdXTaKvh4Y/s320/Happy+6th+Birthday+Feb+5-2012013.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>Have to mark your height on the kitchen door molding!Nancy Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12808106113537248432noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359165480156074292.post-20897671085505398572011-01-20T04:16:00.000-08:002011-01-20T04:16:10.323-08:00Don't Play with Matches!So far, so good.<br />
The house hasn't burned down yet,.... but you almost set the cat on fire! It's too bad you watched mom start a fire in the fireplace, because now you know how to light matches. Mom said she was in the bathroom, but I wonder if she wasn't outside having a cigarette with Tracy from next door....<br />
<br />
For you to have lit 4 long matches (they were in the fireplace), AND to have swiped one at the cat (yes, we've found his scorched fur on his back, in a zig-zag pattern), it must have been a while. Mom is getting a talking to...and the matches are getting put in a better place than on the mantle.<br />
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I wonder why MY stress level is high!Nancy Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12808106113537248432noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359165480156074292.post-40351976819730670482011-01-17T07:55:00.000-08:002011-01-17T07:55:21.274-08:00Washing hands<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieyiH3qQVHf1GUJJOAR6_Jr7fXnOT_UxPgTTbY11cQdj5JARG9HcCSuL2NnXFfwX5yzfsMGJvPEtzs005MF7J88ZHRGsD7qORvnMsipnP4rTtYz9umqomvZ8QJfwx9m3oqJlCY-sLyHR4/s1600/Jan+2011004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieyiH3qQVHf1GUJJOAR6_Jr7fXnOT_UxPgTTbY11cQdj5JARG9HcCSuL2NnXFfwX5yzfsMGJvPEtzs005MF7J88ZHRGsD7qORvnMsipnP4rTtYz9umqomvZ8QJfwx9m3oqJlCY-sLyHR4/s320/Jan+2011004.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>You are getting better at doing this consistantly, but you still need reminding. It's funny that it's only a struggle to get you to start. Once you are in the water, you want to play and play and play. Usually with all your toys.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMIcpqWExGFl5W_VbL89BZ-9WA2YNM2DXLc2Uw03gp8WT5SKV7fs3CUBSlmObxaT9-7TzFeLKWdAOnV2-4fUAPduZgerS247BAA6a89WOya4pPogtgimW15SDrs8dmNY5UHWUiL-B2d70/s1600/Jan+2011005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMIcpqWExGFl5W_VbL89BZ-9WA2YNM2DXLc2Uw03gp8WT5SKV7fs3CUBSlmObxaT9-7TzFeLKWdAOnV2-4fUAPduZgerS247BAA6a89WOya4pPogtgimW15SDrs8dmNY5UHWUiL-B2d70/s320/Jan+2011005.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This is the hardest part. To get you to stop playing in the water and dry your hands.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">You are still so cute!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Now if we could only get you to remember to 'aim' for the water and not overshoot the rim of the toilet! And DON"T use the tub and a toilet (to pee in) unless it's an emergency (like someone else is on the pot!). Rinse it out when you do, too! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> (I think that's included as a lesson. I'm trying to remember to give you a lesson each posting).</div>Nancy Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12808106113537248432noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359165480156074292.post-27710651549587097562011-01-17T07:49:00.000-08:002011-01-17T07:49:36.492-08:00Tucking ME in...I love when you are in a snuggly mood and so am I. It's the cutest thing to see you (you are almost 5 now), drag over a blanket (your green crocheted one from Gramma Smith, or my quilt) from the chair and 'try' and over me with it. All the way up to my neck (choke). The funniest thing is, you get it to the neck, then push down a few times (sometimes too hard) to 'tuck' me in, then you sing a little ditty (changes every time) very quietly. So sweet...<br />
<br />
Our routine is usually to 'talk me into' coming downstairs 'for a few minutes, Grammaw' (with your little fingers held slightly apart) to 'sleep wiff me'. You are too darn cute, so I do. Sometimes you want to say (sometimes 'sing') the Lord's Prayer, sometimes sing a little song (our limited choices are; Jack and Jill, Teddy Bear's Picnic or Somewhere over the Rainbow), but then you are pretty good about letting me get up and leave. Not always, but that's 'cuz you love me, right? <br />
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Wish you could always stay this sweet, but I know you will grow up and not always think of others like you do at 5 yrs old. I hope to teach you to think of others in kind ways, though. Be gentle. <br />
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Lesson: When people aren't gentle, they are usually angry about something; frustrated; hurt and wanting to get back at someone (not always at you). And most of the time it's lashed out at whoever is the closest to them. But the feeling aren't because of you. If they are, I hope you try and figure out what caused it and fix it... appologize, talk it out. Don't be physical back or it just generates the same thing. (That means it continues and doesn't get better).Nancy Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12808106113537248432noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359165480156074292.post-28220504051651633332011-01-04T17:54:00.000-08:002011-01-04T17:54:51.880-08:00My Boy is BACK!!Hey, you haven't had any meds since last Friday, and you are so well behaved. You were actually pretty good (and not 'work') at church last Sunday. Thank you for being a good boy. I love you to bits and pieces.Nancy Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12808106113537248432noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359165480156074292.post-82005525545139125682010-12-30T07:06:00.000-08:002010-12-30T07:06:36.414-08:00MedicinesOkay, here is the straight scoop... Mom & the doctors say you have impulse issues, and slight ADHD, and RAD (reactive attachment disorder). I say they SAY you have it, but I'm not sure if that is totally the issue. I think a lot of the probablems you have is due to proper parenting. There. I said it.<br />
<br />
Mom tends to put on the tv as a babysitter, and I know you seem to enjoy it, but it shouldn't be on all day when she doesn't feel like working with you. I wish you were read to more ( I try as much as I can), and worked with to learn your letters and numbers. (Mom seems to think you can count to 30, but I tested you out and you get to 20 okay, but get a little lost after that). Actually, I'll laugh at this 30 yrs from now (I hope I'm still alive), because it won't matter. <br />
<br />
She has resorted to giving you medicine (concerta- 18mg). The first pill was given way too late in the day and you were up all night with hallucinating/night terrors (crabs and spiders in your hair, ghosts flying by, snakes on the floor--just shoelaces that tie up your sleeping bag-, cows with hands at the cellar window,etc) and ended up in the ER until the meds were out of your system. I know you may not remember any of this... that is good. They changed your meds to 1/2 pill, (9mg) for a few days and it was much better, but I think it makes you jittery, and still hyper. It's supposed to make you focus. I'm not sure it's working, because the things I see that aren't you, are the 'forcefullness' about getting what you want, you aren't as kind anymore. I love my kind, sweet Malakai. Please, come back.<br />
<br />
I hope mom doesn't give you any for a while, as she gave you a whole pill and you just kept bouncing and being VERY engergetic. You don't stop. You need to stop. Slow down. Maybe if mom took you outside more.... let you RUN, and run, and run....<br />
<br />
You always want me to 'lay with you' at night. I guess that's a good thing. Our bonding moment. But you seem afraid if I leave. I'm right upstairs. Honest. I won't ever leave you until God makes that choice. But I'm here. I love you. You ARE my best buddy (besides Papa). I love you too, Malakai.Nancy Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12808106113537248432noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359165480156074292.post-84516155977316168352010-11-20T09:01:00.000-08:002010-11-20T09:01:56.746-08:00Future Mechanic...oops, auto technicianHey, Malakai,<br />
Do you remember when you were 4yrs old, that you LOVED getting cars and trucks for gifts? Well, let me show you why Gramma doesn't want to buy you any....<br />
Notice the wheels. Or should we say, lack there of? Yeah,... you tend to remove the rubber wheels from their hubs and I find the rubber tires in various places in the house. Usually, after I step on them! <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv_FcsFQtaesHT3yoq_VU_2skAhOFKyCoIpwyNDTKQp0ILmO2jVe1cuOX9TI-BjpG487c7K-AQ38cqlYVRuwg3bC2Xz2AWPKJSp3UwZCF_YkjmyeJTTI4l0sMKsMvTxOiDg9vD-bPeu8c/s1600/quilt+mixup+2010025.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="226" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv_FcsFQtaesHT3yoq_VU_2skAhOFKyCoIpwyNDTKQp0ILmO2jVe1cuOX9TI-BjpG487c7K-AQ38cqlYVRuwg3bC2Xz2AWPKJSp3UwZCF_YkjmyeJTTI4l0sMKsMvTxOiDg9vD-bPeu8c/s320/quilt+mixup+2010025.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Actually, this car is missing all four tires. Hence, you cannot drive this one on the wood floors, just the rug.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTt0M2oVfOh1oXUeXIrTggq2AqJgzkmJYcvT1TT1kI31WR10IXLcUY47ByLQAA_j32pu2mA7bIx4NuF6IMGTwLZa7BXmDQyC-ud3y4JvDBsAmOLVzwHck7CFha0FIssfsKhFbBJ8vk9EM/s1600/quilt+mixup+2010028.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTt0M2oVfOh1oXUeXIrTggq2AqJgzkmJYcvT1TT1kI31WR10IXLcUY47ByLQAA_j32pu2mA7bIx4NuF6IMGTwLZa7BXmDQyC-ud3y4JvDBsAmOLVzwHck7CFha0FIssfsKhFbBJ8vk9EM/s320/quilt+mixup+2010028.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This one doesn't even roll down the home-made ramps ... not even axels remain...tsk, tsk, tsk...</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidViDUYL3yRtVDbeMwIlSWhJiEOyXP_GK3yD8m8v9TODh4BP6VemVePvflBg5asD3XlH7v8M3Wv1EGQfD7IAbNcV_GmdDz8229qCywWR-VHkt6Nmu_DAIjgBkdZHE9dCS4YdLVGIApVWI/s1600/quilt+mixup+2010030.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidViDUYL3yRtVDbeMwIlSWhJiEOyXP_GK3yD8m8v9TODh4BP6VemVePvflBg5asD3XlH7v8M3Wv1EGQfD7IAbNcV_GmdDz8229qCywWR-VHkt6Nmu_DAIjgBkdZHE9dCS4YdLVGIApVWI/s320/quilt+mixup+2010030.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I keep thinking maybe you'll be an auto technician like your Papa. Maybe. If you don't misplace your wheels.</div>Nancy Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12808106113537248432noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359165480156074292.post-70788039068250689012010-10-21T22:12:00.000-07:002010-10-21T22:12:06.687-07:00Mommies make mistakes...Some day, I hope your mommy learns a valuable lesson.... don't try to get what you want by buying it. You can't always trust someone who says they'll pay you for something after you've already started putting money down for it, because they might take advantage of you. At least they do to your mom. And don't be so in a hurry to leave a situation you are in, by jumping into someone else's situation.<br />
<br />
Also,...three things you don't pay for.<br />
1. Your own wedding dress, no matter even if you think it's the one you've always dreamed of.... (of course, you, Malakai, won't be buying your wedding dress. lol... at least I hope not).<br />
2. You don't buy your own engagement ring, by making payments on it and thinking your fiancee will pay you back!) If you want to marry a girl, work at the relationship and earn her. Pay for the ring, so it means something. Let her give you nothing but love and respect. And you, likewise.<br />
3. Don't let anyone put your name on a cell phone plan, because you will be stuck paying the cancellation fees (of $200) when you can't afford it or they leave you....<br />
<br />
I wish your mom would learn some things the easy way, not the hard way. If I could give her advise that she'd take, it would be to let life happen to her for a while. Don't go making things happen. It's the butterfly thing... If the butterfly lands on your shoulder, he's meant to touch you. If he doesn't, no amount of chasing him will make him land.<br />
<br />
Just let it go and breathe for a while.<br />
<br />
Actually, she should just spend some good quality "Malakai and Mom" time. Amen.Nancy Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12808106113537248432noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359165480156074292.post-78683787002656794392010-10-09T04:22:00.000-07:002010-10-09T04:22:47.826-07:00Your HeritageIn cleaning up the cellar for the guys to come and install a new boiler, I came across a zippered case that I asked your mom if this was hers (or Aunt Leslie's). She said it contained something she had to return to your 'biological gramma' Dee. It was baby pictures of Greg (this is how I'll refer to the person who made your mom pregnant with you- he doesn't deserve the title of 'dad' in any way, and that's probably the best for all of us at this time). I thought they were cute and could see some of you in them, but mom doesn't want to keep them. I've thought about scanning them into the computer for you when you get older and start asking questions about your heritage, but I'm not sure if that's stepping over boundaries. Your mom's boundaries. We'll see.<br />
As much as I don't feel he deserves a place in your life, it's where your genes come from. And as a baby, he wasn't the same person he became as an adult. He was still sweet and inocent, I'm sure. I don't want you to know about the awful things he did to your mom until you are an adult (or are old enough to handle it... then again, how old would that be? I'm not sure I'M old enough to handle it and I"m pretty darn old, some would say...LOL - NOT, I'm only 56, my dear!...Nancy Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12808106113537248432noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359165480156074292.post-39481029501500081122010-09-18T21:05:00.000-07:002010-09-18T21:05:20.018-07:00Bye Snoopy...I know you didn't get to know Snoopy very well, and I guess that's a good thing.... Mom found him a better home, since she couldn't keep him here and couldn't really afford to keep him at all. Don't worry, you'll have animals some time in the future, I'm sure of it.Nancy Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12808106113537248432noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359165480156074292.post-20361612955009979562010-09-09T19:18:00.000-07:002010-10-09T04:11:39.670-07:00Photos of you that I love<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I recently went through some onld files/photos on my computer and thought I'd post a few that stirred something in me.</div><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgErwM2ckd1vYpVYMqPxdcBtXNgtpme8dMqJxFZuyD3LJYMrDQsIg1P4W_yqXOiDaHgQxPHvfnCfi4AglM4Jbxf2QB9b75qyUm-wQHuQQXrWfDwQqraNFaSVcxmbpH7KksqyZ7kvqoR9Ac/s1600/Kai+after+a+bath-+fall+2009031.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgErwM2ckd1vYpVYMqPxdcBtXNgtpme8dMqJxFZuyD3LJYMrDQsIg1P4W_yqXOiDaHgQxPHvfnCfi4AglM4Jbxf2QB9b75qyUm-wQHuQQXrWfDwQqraNFaSVcxmbpH7KksqyZ7kvqoR9Ac/s320/Kai+after+a+bath-+fall+2009031.jpg" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">This is the closest naked photo I'll probably ever post. It's you wrapped in a towel after a bath. You always loved being carried out to the couch in the living room, wrapped in a big towel, and 'plopped' you on the cushions... we'd giggle and laugh while getting your pj's on.</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn-GyVuOk0oewoJtXM729exlH-eRVxfoANqlN-SP2DAyTSDf-AeD-48kwzXqzWiNaaVEbKVGvyuKPk5qYO0qtG3K8eor8JR_-mTWSVqHvZ4zdZfrerdttjyxYMD4oQZiJY_y3GmJ2etEE/s1600/Kai+and+his+faces+Sept+2009034.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn-GyVuOk0oewoJtXM729exlH-eRVxfoANqlN-SP2DAyTSDf-AeD-48kwzXqzWiNaaVEbKVGvyuKPk5qYO0qtG3K8eor8JR_-mTWSVqHvZ4zdZfrerdttjyxYMD4oQZiJY_y3GmJ2etEE/s320/Kai+and+his+faces+Sept+2009034.jpg" /></a>You were always one to make faces... funny ones mostly. Trying to make everyone laugh or be shocked. You were so adorable!</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglHj_kDDZ7MV2I4_sdtbOUiQmrz-fVLOshX1i2hoTJXDyeV6g177osHkQgnMh9u6hrRMzUyKFxuqTLLi1J7IzJMpT1HQa-UPj2hhJUo-XYns5FNGJK-3IGHRNmrZpOPBeB_PIyM_vtN4M/s1600/random+2009+summer003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglHj_kDDZ7MV2I4_sdtbOUiQmrz-fVLOshX1i2hoTJXDyeV6g177osHkQgnMh9u6hrRMzUyKFxuqTLLi1J7IzJMpT1HQa-UPj2hhJUo-XYns5FNGJK-3IGHRNmrZpOPBeB_PIyM_vtN4M/s320/random+2009+summer003.jpg" /></a>Some times, you were contemplative. I remember you calling me over while you were drinking milk on the couch (probably watching tv). You wanted me to look in your glass....</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">"Look, Gramma.... It's smiling!"</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This made me laugh, RIGHT OUT LOUD!!!...hahahahaha</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYQc3WQ21gLHWS4ObmIdxRc70uQ1C35VU_LY6lOCbNhZzii8JJKfvPSx2Hr8gSBaIy0Zu9F1FsrmsCGr4vMz9FPp-UBXcZ4DAM9ok47yElWdj_Xbey64Ru62PpBGE-tiarpFpHfJF7mOA/s1600/random+2009+summer004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYQc3WQ21gLHWS4ObmIdxRc70uQ1C35VU_LY6lOCbNhZzii8JJKfvPSx2Hr8gSBaIy0Zu9F1FsrmsCGr4vMz9FPp-UBXcZ4DAM9ok47yElWdj_Xbey64Ru62PpBGE-tiarpFpHfJF7mOA/s320/random+2009+summer004.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs0stldBA9rY5rZR8Qkd7KYIUV12iT4pzn2UYAYKN5fcdLmDIS7-6t03kvZ5MyF5Q2yA_Hkag0wfPf-J49sZmoFL1H83zoNmIToqGNjIlK-et2YwSbXo_5-tNWwHm3B2VEJayZZNjDLyk/s1600/random+2009+summer005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs0stldBA9rY5rZR8Qkd7KYIUV12iT4pzn2UYAYKN5fcdLmDIS7-6t03kvZ5MyF5Q2yA_Hkag0wfPf-J49sZmoFL1H83zoNmIToqGNjIlK-et2YwSbXo_5-tNWwHm3B2VEJayZZNjDLyk/s320/random+2009+summer005.jpg" /></a>You always wanted to play outside!! ALWAYS! Mom would have to make you get your shoes on ( you didn't even want to do that-- it took too much time!)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIbtTVUjYOzthkmy7v3oo4enbBGBc15mgkfj15348Tds4d3Wju0P7-8NOImfu166lUdQkcx49RlNl5A7XeTWws7mxN2rJr1n7Zn1cAYbCNWMAr461CbcLDLae32qYKsfkktqHDYL6LocI/s1600/P2161562.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIbtTVUjYOzthkmy7v3oo4enbBGBc15mgkfj15348Tds4d3Wju0P7-8NOImfu166lUdQkcx49RlNl5A7XeTWws7mxN2rJr1n7Zn1cAYbCNWMAr461CbcLDLae32qYKsfkktqHDYL6LocI/s320/P2161562.jpg" /></a>Can you tell mom was pleased by your haircut that Aunt Jannie (Janet) gave you? I really liked your natural curly hair. Mom unfortunately didn't, ... maybe it made her think of your heritage (she had a hard time with reminders of certain people- namely your biological dad).</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhacPvXhpayEK22eZfAovSXDjt2bGG_vzHoWpjX6SPfemBGM76oO4wmw4IuAw-ntFtcUW1gLjXIeC5JvaCPNJfBkTj3NlbIhEPG5fjB1lNPvyWv9kBbRmxMS2qWQ_EQevdRpCpx9-ZAytE/s1600/P3071565.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhacPvXhpayEK22eZfAovSXDjt2bGG_vzHoWpjX6SPfemBGM76oO4wmw4IuAw-ntFtcUW1gLjXIeC5JvaCPNJfBkTj3NlbIhEPG5fjB1lNPvyWv9kBbRmxMS2qWQ_EQevdRpCpx9-ZAytE/s320/P3071565.jpg" /></a>On to better 'dad's'.... This guy is your Papa! My best friend. You always love doing things with him. Didn't matter what!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnY4ZGLGfzZ2ZHHLAf4vGvlKGWmqvghSjOEpLbcIy36P-XKSprGO6VOE9KPpVk7Ng3jSlmXAo94ESb1JU4PDhG2fzLfBHCPUGXlfeuvLGt1t0j_dgijS6xbCRK7pG0-Qcj3RuS9VBg2cs/s1600/P8150247.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnY4ZGLGfzZ2ZHHLAf4vGvlKGWmqvghSjOEpLbcIy36P-XKSprGO6VOE9KPpVk7Ng3jSlmXAo94ESb1JU4PDhG2fzLfBHCPUGXlfeuvLGt1t0j_dgijS6xbCRK7pG0-Qcj3RuS9VBg2cs/s320/P8150247.jpg" /></a>Looks like you had a million dollars in your hand!! (it was a paint swatch from the home depot store.)</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5wPD7z1pv7AuJMxWo-7NZ0rDfRcZUZytgWfamDGdA7pcud8N1CRgOtilelbw_E_mypF-kMvsu9fhsoR5p2Q_uFKS98oVXCmB50oypnzh2mfp0YnGl0oVk9rANuLGAfWln7ISST1TkibY/s1600/P9270569.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5wPD7z1pv7AuJMxWo-7NZ0rDfRcZUZytgWfamDGdA7pcud8N1CRgOtilelbw_E_mypF-kMvsu9fhsoR5p2Q_uFKS98oVXCmB50oypnzh2mfp0YnGl0oVk9rANuLGAfWln7ISST1TkibY/s320/P9270569.jpg" /></a> This was you in your first bed. You looked comfy. I always felt bad that it was in the basement/cellar. The walls had paneling, but the ceiling had beams, pipes (some of which you used to try and hang from!), then we insulated it, but never covered it (the ceiling). See those sheets? They were from when I had my first apartment in 1973!!</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy2ywmsfme6__hhISP7Bm-Ounv_nbTbp3wnCrBorZvlywuVLpmAZPmBAQ1Eat6oSk743PLV38ycPDQcsE4guDmzJ8cDj_MNxGHC-eZ2ilbQbbs3hz64qn3AfzAp0o-vmxAbv8OMm2R8O0/s1600/PA180715.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy2ywmsfme6__hhISP7Bm-Ounv_nbTbp3wnCrBorZvlywuVLpmAZPmBAQ1Eat6oSk743PLV38ycPDQcsE4guDmzJ8cDj_MNxGHC-eZ2ilbQbbs3hz64qn3AfzAp0o-vmxAbv8OMm2R8O0/s320/PA180715.jpg" /></a>You used to love sitting in the middle of leaf piles.... Never liked the bath I'd give you after, though...LOL</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">You loved to look cute, and you had the cutest belly!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEJIA5a5su1YTdwd82W4zKealv26IxAROfU6HEWiAH_h_2L2aBEox3x8ryiJ34glcUvh4rYDHFWfGy-ApV-XY_1j2lNZQxYKH0ORIZnmL3lWIpk_zFG0EO9yQLYt8ysb9iWC14453g86M/s1600/PC141102.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEJIA5a5su1YTdwd82W4zKealv26IxAROfU6HEWiAH_h_2L2aBEox3x8ryiJ34glcUvh4rYDHFWfGy-ApV-XY_1j2lNZQxYKH0ORIZnmL3lWIpk_zFG0EO9yQLYt8ysb9iWC14453g86M/s320/PC141102.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD1BRABjeTqX-E2aYm0AFQsKpXku1MvNosy6STPukI68Vs8qd1a_XzMiEJ7N5FeXxC89llxeSa51h1HPhhYo_LZLID94Jo0A9z-pXoJC0ib9qJZD7cyTaVtoZ54AkKwYhKG1xC2vzl_Gc/s1600/Kai+face+Dec+28-2009003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD1BRABjeTqX-E2aYm0AFQsKpXku1MvNosy6STPukI68Vs8qd1a_XzMiEJ7N5FeXxC89llxeSa51h1HPhhYo_LZLID94Jo0A9z-pXoJC0ib9qJZD7cyTaVtoZ54AkKwYhKG1xC2vzl_Gc/s320/Kai+face+Dec+28-2009003.jpg" /></a>I have always loved you to death!! We were always the bestest of friends! I love you.</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaKgV2ZdWCH0-ODHcK9XqW3cZ6r-1Tpg_LT8hJakFstr58btTyg0A2e3xZ11JTYVwFVphpPE6x01NgbzaEu93uHPVEtya_ERPIfy3ovOqOJR1EbCUlQmwrBDsPg8S7jwa-bk765u59he4/s1600/Gram+%26+Kai+July+2010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaKgV2ZdWCH0-ODHcK9XqW3cZ6r-1Tpg_LT8hJakFstr58btTyg0A2e3xZ11JTYVwFVphpPE6x01NgbzaEu93uHPVEtya_ERPIfy3ovOqOJR1EbCUlQmwrBDsPg8S7jwa-bk765u59he4/s320/Gram+%26+Kai+July+2010.jpg" /></a>This was a fun day... drawing hopscotch on the driveway with chalk and riding our bikes! Okay, maybe I wasn't quite the right size for the bike, but I tried! I bought that tricycle for you from the St Mary's (our/your church) Dayschool, when it disbanded, for $5. Sturdy little bugger!!</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">Hope you enjoyed looking at these. I'll post more as I come across them.</div>Nancy Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12808106113537248432noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359165480156074292.post-54255730410656357902010-09-09T18:41:00.000-07:002010-09-09T18:41:11.322-07:00Sad DayI'm sure you are too young to remember this day, but last Sunday (Sept. 5th), your mom received a 'text message' from her fiancee telling her he wasn't ready to get married. They had gotten engaged last December (2009), and they were working on her moving you and her down to Florida where he lived. She would have transferred her job down there (that was in the works) and gotten you into a Head Start program of some sorts.... (we would have missed you like crazy, Papa and I... , but we would have wished you both the best life you could ever have). A couple of days later, I noticed your mom's 'ring' was off her finger. Like I said.... sad day.<br />
It's now a few days later. I think she's doing pretty well. I know she's sad, and it's too bad she received the news the way she did, but I think... no, I KNOW it's for the best. I'm glad he did it BEFORE you guys disrupted your lives to move all the way there. <br />
Now, if I'm really selfish, ... I'm glad you are gonna be with us (by the way, you live in the basement in our house with mom, in case you don't remember that when you're older) for Christmas and the other holidays. Knowing that you could have been moving before Dec., made me want to do all the things I wouldn't have been able to do with you for a while (I don't like FL and probably wouldn't have flown down there much... well, .... maybe I WOULD have, since I would have missed you like crazy!!-- for no one else would I have considered it ;-) ). But now, I don't feel the rush to do everything that would be memorable to YOU, and cram it in a short span of time. Come to think of it, maybe that's not so good, because now I don't have to do so much .... hahaha. Awww... you know I probably will, since you are such fun at this age.<br />
I know someday you will have a dad (not that you weren't born with one, but we won't go there today), but I guess the right dad has to come along at the right time. He has to be pretty special for me to accept him as YOUR dad! The one you were born with wasn't right for you. He didn't deserve you. Please.... just trust me on that.<br />
Okay, so ....On with the next chapter of your life. You have school starting soon....a new teacher (I hear she's great- from your babysitter, Shee-shee---Sheila Brown). Her name is Donna Acker (Mrs Acker to you). You are growing into a fine boy, even though you have your days. Don't we all? It's nice to hear that you 'were the best boy ever', when I pick you up from Shee-shee's house. So ... let's hope and pray mom gets to feel better soon, and we're kinda back to square one. And, message to mom.... breathe.Nancy Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12808106113537248432noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5359165480156074292.post-67390766652684664492010-09-09T18:14:00.000-07:002010-09-09T18:14:06.555-07:00Here's to you....I've thought of starting this blog for you, Malakai for a while. I know you are only 4 1/2 yrs old now, but there are things I'd like to tell you that I hope you can use later in life. Some day, when I'm gone from your life (like dead), I hope these will help you understand your family and make you a great man. <br />
For right now, ... you're a great little boy...and I love you.Nancy Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12808106113537248432noreply@blogger.com0