<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6997520538214175844</id><updated>2012-02-16T19:56:12.372-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Kaelyn Says . . .</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kmnsays.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6997520538214175844/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kmnsays.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Brian, Melanie, Kaelyn, Gretchen, and Sophie</name><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>15</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6997520538214175844.post-4797635632392774861</id><published>2008-09-23T21:18:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-23T21:21:10.301-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Not Enough Fingers</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Kaelyn was counting all of the people that she loves and misses when she doesn't see them.  She was counting on her fingers.  Her list went something like this . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nana&lt;br /&gt;Grandpa&lt;br /&gt;Grandma&lt;br /&gt;Grandpa&lt;br /&gt;Aunt Lisa&lt;br /&gt;Uncle John&lt;br /&gt;Mary&lt;br /&gt;Noelle&lt;br /&gt;Ethan&lt;br /&gt;Lauren&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I added Aunt Meghan, Uncle Michael, Geoffrey, Aunt Laura, Uncle Chris, Joseph, Ryan, and Carly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kaelyn said "I miss them, too, but I don't have enough fingers for them!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6997520538214175844-4797635632392774861?l=kmnsays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kmnsays.blogspot.com/feeds/4797635632392774861/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6997520538214175844&amp;postID=4797635632392774861' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6997520538214175844/posts/default/4797635632392774861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6997520538214175844/posts/default/4797635632392774861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kmnsays.blogspot.com/2008/09/not-enough-fingers.html' title='Not Enough Fingers'/><author><name>Brian, Melanie, Kaelyn, Gretchen, and Sophie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6997520538214175844.post-466186917195147649</id><published>2008-09-14T14:57:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-14T15:07:08.514-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Asking for Food</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;This afternoon, we attended Playhouse Disney Live on Tour at the Memorial Coliseum.  As usual, the vendors were out in force trying to sell overpriced &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;souvenirs.  At the end of the show, we told Kaelyn that we would take her to the Disney Store to buy Mickey and Minnie Mouse dolls (since they are much less expensive at the store than at the event).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We also complimented her on not asking for anything.  She said "but I ask-ed for a hot dog."  We said that she did ask for food, but that doesn't count -- we were proud of her for not asking for any toys.  To which Kaelyn replied "yeah, but I still ask-ed for food 'cause I was really hungry."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We, again, told her that food doesn't count and that she could still get her Mickey and Minnie dolls.   Kaelyn then said "fanks!  I like not asking for anyfing!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6997520538214175844-466186917195147649?l=kmnsays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kmnsays.blogspot.com/feeds/466186917195147649/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6997520538214175844&amp;postID=466186917195147649' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6997520538214175844/posts/default/466186917195147649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6997520538214175844/posts/default/466186917195147649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kmnsays.blogspot.com/2008/09/asking-for-food.html' title='Asking for Food'/><author><name>Brian, Melanie, Kaelyn, Gretchen, and Sophie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6997520538214175844.post-2336793709722116314</id><published>2008-09-14T14:52:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-14T14:57:05.739-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Focus</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;We were driving to lunch yesterday when Kaelyn asked if she had to take a nap when we got home.  We told her that she needed to lay down when we got home, but she had a little time since we had some errands to run after lunch.  Kaelyn started to cry and yell that she did not want to take a nap.  Daddy told her not to worry about the nap right now, "just focus on what you're doing right now."  Meaning, going to lunch.  Kaelyn misinterpreted this and asked "crying?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daddy and I laughed, and Daddy told her, "no, going to lunch."  Kaelyn replied "ok.  I don't like to focus on crying anyway."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6997520538214175844-2336793709722116314?l=kmnsays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kmnsays.blogspot.com/feeds/2336793709722116314/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6997520538214175844&amp;postID=2336793709722116314' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6997520538214175844/posts/default/2336793709722116314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6997520538214175844/posts/default/2336793709722116314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kmnsays.blogspot.com/2008/09/focus.html' title='Focus'/><author><name>Brian, Melanie, Kaelyn, Gretchen, and Sophie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6997520538214175844.post-8769578880384041098</id><published>2008-09-11T19:06:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-11T19:09:16.188-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Feeling Bobby-ish</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Yesterday, Kaelyn and I were listening to the ringtones on my new cell phone.  I have a different ring tone for each of my "faves", and one of the ringtones is the theme from &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Dallas&lt;/span&gt;.  As I played it and Kaelyn started to dance, she said "this is the Bobby Ewing song.  It makes me feel Bobby-ish!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have got to love a four-year-old who knows all of the characters on &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Dallas&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6997520538214175844-8769578880384041098?l=kmnsays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kmnsays.blogspot.com/feeds/8769578880384041098/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6997520538214175844&amp;postID=8769578880384041098' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6997520538214175844/posts/default/8769578880384041098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6997520538214175844/posts/default/8769578880384041098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kmnsays.blogspot.com/2008/09/feeling-bobby-ish.html' title='Feeling Bobby-ish'/><author><name>Brian, Melanie, Kaelyn, Gretchen, and Sophie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6997520538214175844.post-6240695147472446050</id><published>2008-09-11T18:50:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-11T18:59:49.630-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Great-Grandpa Turkey Neck</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Yesterday, Kaelyn and I were driving to an appointment and she was talking to herself in the eback seat.  One of the comments that I heard came out of the blue -- "Grandpa's father had a turkey neck.  Gobble!  Gobble!  Gobble!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was talking to my mother later in the evening and repeated Kaelyn's comment to her.  Mom told me that during a recent visit to my Dad's aunt and uncle, Kaelyn asked the uncle about his "waddle" under his chin.  Kaelyn asked if it was a "turkey neck". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It turns out that Kaelyn was confused about the relationship between Grandpa and his uncle.  I explained the relationship to her and told her that her turkey neck commment was hilarious.  She ran around the house gobbling like a turkey for the next few minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahhh, memories!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6997520538214175844-6240695147472446050?l=kmnsays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kmnsays.blogspot.com/feeds/6240695147472446050/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6997520538214175844&amp;postID=6240695147472446050' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6997520538214175844/posts/default/6240695147472446050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6997520538214175844/posts/default/6240695147472446050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kmnsays.blogspot.com/2008/09/great-grandpa-turkey-neck.html' title='Great-Grandpa Turkey Neck'/><author><name>Brian, Melanie, Kaelyn, Gretchen, and Sophie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6997520538214175844.post-8527664498970934829</id><published>2008-09-08T20:08:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T20:15:49.625-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm a Real Arfur</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NcLdhH-zoWg/SMW_ha7lppI/AAAAAAAAAJk/mwWNgVndmTs/s1600-h/P9060300.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NcLdhH-zoWg/SMW_ha7lppI/AAAAAAAAAJk/mwWNgVndmTs/s320/P9060300.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243807922028652178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NcLdhH-zoWg/SMW_YL0mobI/AAAAAAAAAJc/Tf4gxDurwo4/s1600-h/P9060298.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NcLdhH-zoWg/SMW_YL0mobI/AAAAAAAAAJc/Tf4gxDurwo4/s320/P9060298.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243807763354001842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Kaelyn wrote a story with &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Dora the Explorer&lt;/span&gt; stickers and a pencil today.  After she read her story to me, she stated that she was "a real live arfur".  It took me a minute to understand that she was saying "author".   Who knows, maybe she will grow up to be a world famous arfur.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her story was fabulous, by the way!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6997520538214175844-8527664498970934829?l=kmnsays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kmnsays.blogspot.com/feeds/8527664498970934829/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6997520538214175844&amp;postID=8527664498970934829' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6997520538214175844/posts/default/8527664498970934829'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6997520538214175844/posts/default/8527664498970934829'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kmnsays.blogspot.com/2008/09/im-real-arfur.html' title='I&apos;m a Real Arfur'/><author><name>Brian, Melanie, Kaelyn, Gretchen, and Sophie</name><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/_NcLdhH-zoWg/SMW_ha7lppI/AAAAAAAAAJk/mwWNgVndmTs/s72-c/P9060300.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6997520538214175844.post-8627990113063397682</id><published>2008-09-07T21:40:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-07T22:42:28.112-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Looking Like a Rainbow</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Friday night, Kaelyn and I decided to have ice cream for dinner.  This is something that we do occasionally during high school football season because Daddy does not get to come home for dinner.  He has to stay at work and direct &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Score&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, Kaelyn and I headed to Dairy Queen for some ice cream.  Kaelyn had a chocolate kid-sized cone in a cup with rainbow sprinkles and I ordered a butterscotch dilly bar and a cherry arctic slush.  Then, we headed home to eat our "dinner".   I don't know what the problem was, but I kept spilling the arctic rush on my pajama shirt.  I changed my shirt and spilled arctic rush on my new shirt!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said to Kaelyn, "look what I did -- I spilled on my new shirt!  I look like a mess!"  To which Kaelyn replied, "Mom, you don't look like a mess -- you look like a rainbow!  I wish I could look like a rainbow.  I love rainbows!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess one person's mess is another person's rainbow -- it's all in your perspective.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6997520538214175844-8627990113063397682?l=kmnsays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kmnsays.blogspot.com/feeds/8627990113063397682/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6997520538214175844&amp;postID=8627990113063397682' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6997520538214175844/posts/default/8627990113063397682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6997520538214175844/posts/default/8627990113063397682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kmnsays.blogspot.com/2008/09/looking-like-rainbow.html' title='Looking Like a Rainbow'/><author><name>Brian, Melanie, Kaelyn, Gretchen, and Sophie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6997520538214175844.post-4162948247167017699</id><published>2008-09-03T22:24:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-03T22:29:33.759-04:00</updated><title type='text'>New Church Shoes</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NcLdhH-zoWg/SL9H9yP-AFI/AAAAAAAAAI8/HHwPo8Ldqos/s1600-h/P8300224.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NcLdhH-zoWg/SL9H9yP-AFI/AAAAAAAAAI8/HHwPo8Ldqos/s320/P8300224.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241987618068889682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;La&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;st week, Kaelyn and I &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;were at &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Target and I showed her a pair of patent-leather shoes that I want to get her to wear to church.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, she came out wearing a pair of her dress-up shoes and said "hey, Mom, you don't have to buy me new church shoes.  I'll just wear these!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't have the heart to tell her that I am still &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;planning on buying the shoes at Target.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6997520538214175844-4162948247167017699?l=kmnsays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kmnsays.blogspot.com/feeds/4162948247167017699/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6997520538214175844&amp;postID=4162948247167017699' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6997520538214175844/posts/default/4162948247167017699'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6997520538214175844/posts/default/4162948247167017699'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kmnsays.blogspot.com/2008/09/new-church-shoes.html' title='New Church Shoes'/><author><name>Brian, Melanie, Kaelyn, Gretchen, and Sophie</name><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://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NcLdhH-zoWg/SL9H9yP-AFI/AAAAAAAAAI8/HHwPo8Ldqos/s72-c/P8300224.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6997520538214175844.post-4356537713431193603</id><published>2008-09-01T20:45:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-01T20:53:06.325-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Name Game</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Kaelyn:  Mom, do you have a Nana?&lt;br /&gt;Mommy:  No, I only have a Grandma.&lt;br /&gt;Kaelyn:  Where is your Nana?&lt;br /&gt;Mommy:  I never had a Nana, just a Grandma.&lt;br /&gt;Kaelyn:  Where is Nana's Nana?&lt;br /&gt;Mommy:  She is in Heaven.  I never knew her.&lt;br /&gt;Kaelyn:  Why is she in Heaven?&lt;br /&gt;Mommy:  She just is, but you have seen pictures of her at Nana's house.&lt;br /&gt;Kaelyn:  What was her name?&lt;br /&gt;Mommy:  Marjorie.&lt;br /&gt;Kaelyn:  Like me!  Kaelyn Marjorie North!&lt;br /&gt;Mommy:  Yep, just like you.&lt;br /&gt;Kaelyn:  I love your Nana, Mama.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a conversation that Kaelyn and I had a couple of days ago.  From the time Kaelyn learned to talk, she has been fascinated with her name.  She loves it!  She insists that everyone call her by her full name -- Kaelyn Marjorie North.  While she knows the story of how she got her name, she loves to hear it repeated -- practically on a daily basis.  She never gets tired of hearing the story of her name.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6997520538214175844-4356537713431193603?l=kmnsays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kmnsays.blogspot.com/feeds/4356537713431193603/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6997520538214175844&amp;postID=4356537713431193603' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6997520538214175844/posts/default/4356537713431193603'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6997520538214175844/posts/default/4356537713431193603'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kmnsays.blogspot.com/2008/09/name-game.html' title='The Name Game'/><author><name>Brian, Melanie, Kaelyn, Gretchen, and Sophie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6997520538214175844.post-3037759579994067995</id><published>2008-08-30T19:52:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-30T20:04:59.124-04:00</updated><title type='text'>No More Babies</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;I was folding towels recently when Kaelyn came into the room and said "I don't want you to have any more babies."  I  asked her why she didn't want a little brother or sister, and she stated "because I don't want you to throw me in the trash."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I quickly explained to Kaelyn that when a family has a new baby, the older child does not get thrown in the trash.  I told her that I have two younger siblings and Nana and Grandpa never threw me in the trash.  I also told her that daddy has a younger sister and Grandma and Grandpa didn't throw him in the trash.  I also told her that if and when we have a new baby, I would need her to help me and the baby would need her to teach it how to play.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After absorbing this information, Kaelyn said "I still don't want a new baby.  I don't have time to teach anybody how to play."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll tuck this request away for any decisions daddy and I might make with regard to future family members.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6997520538214175844-3037759579994067995?l=kmnsays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kmnsays.blogspot.com/feeds/3037759579994067995/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6997520538214175844&amp;postID=3037759579994067995' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6997520538214175844/posts/default/3037759579994067995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6997520538214175844/posts/default/3037759579994067995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kmnsays.blogspot.com/2008/08/no-more-babies.html' title='No More Babies'/><author><name>Brian, Melanie, Kaelyn, Gretchen, and Sophie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6997520538214175844.post-3012310787288573365</id><published>2008-08-30T19:19:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-30T19:23:28.352-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Grandpa's Truck</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;A few days ago, Kaelyn and I were talking about different types of cars.  During our conversation, she brought up Grandpa's truck (Nana's Grandpa, not Grandma's Grandpa -- both Grandpas have a truck).   I asked Kaelyn if she has ever ridden in Grandpa's truck.  She said that she had, then added "Grandpa's truck is kind of like a museum.  It is really, really, clean and you just sit in it and not touch anything."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Knowing my Dad as I do, this statement is profoundly accurate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6997520538214175844-3012310787288573365?l=kmnsays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kmnsays.blogspot.com/feeds/3012310787288573365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6997520538214175844&amp;postID=3012310787288573365' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6997520538214175844/posts/default/3012310787288573365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6997520538214175844/posts/default/3012310787288573365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kmnsays.blogspot.com/2008/08/grandpas-truck.html' title='Grandpa&apos;s Truck'/><author><name>Brian, Melanie, Kaelyn, Gretchen, and Sophie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6997520538214175844.post-1844311005987159109</id><published>2008-08-29T20:47:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-29T20:57:04.592-04:00</updated><title type='text'>We're Going to the Beach</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;The template I chose for this blog is called "Sand Dollar."  I picked it because Kaelyn is fascinated by the beach.  She is always talking about going to the beach.  She even sings a song about it . . . "we're going to the beach, the beach, the beach.  We're going to the beach, the beach, the beach.  We're going to the beach!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kaelyn has informed us that she wants to celebrate her birthday at the beach next year.  Daddy and I think that is a fabulous idea!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6997520538214175844-1844311005987159109?l=kmnsays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kmnsays.blogspot.com/feeds/1844311005987159109/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6997520538214175844&amp;postID=1844311005987159109' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6997520538214175844/posts/default/1844311005987159109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6997520538214175844/posts/default/1844311005987159109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kmnsays.blogspot.com/2008/08/were-going-to-beach.html' title='We&apos;re Going to the Beach'/><author><name>Brian, Melanie, Kaelyn, Gretchen, and Sophie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6997520538214175844.post-547381794847896694</id><published>2008-08-29T20:41:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-29T20:46:49.896-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Kids Grow Up Too Fast</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Kaelyn and I had to pick up a few things at the grocery store yesterday evening.  I really didn't need a cart, but Kaelyn wanted a car cart.  She got in and we started shopping.  While shopping, we saw another little girl in a car cart.  Kaelyn noticed that the little girl was almost too big for the car cart.  On our way out to the car, Kaelyn said "kids just grow up too fast, don't they?  One of these days I'll be too big for the car cart.  That will be a sad day."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How true!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6997520538214175844-547381794847896694?l=kmnsays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kmnsays.blogspot.com/feeds/547381794847896694/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6997520538214175844&amp;postID=547381794847896694' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6997520538214175844/posts/default/547381794847896694'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6997520538214175844/posts/default/547381794847896694'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kmnsays.blogspot.com/2008/08/kids-grow-up-too-fast.html' title='Kids Grow Up Too Fast'/><author><name>Brian, Melanie, Kaelyn, Gretchen, and Sophie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6997520538214175844.post-4626999243670023867</id><published>2008-08-28T16:18:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-28T16:23:24.194-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Mr. Winks is Nocturnal</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;About a month ago, Kaelyn was at work with me.  We were walking out to the car to go home with one of my co-workers.  My co-worker asked Kaelyn about Mr. Winks.  She asked if Mr. Winks sleeps with Kaelyn at night.  Kaelyn looked at the co-worker with an "I can't believe you just asked me that" look and stated "no, he doesn't sleep with me, he's nocturnal.  That means that he is awake at night and asleep during the day." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This not only took my co-worker by surprise, but it too me by surprise as well.  I mean, really, how many four-year-olds know what nocturnal means and are able to apply it to their daily lives?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6997520538214175844-4626999243670023867?l=kmnsays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kmnsays.blogspot.com/feeds/4626999243670023867/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6997520538214175844&amp;postID=4626999243670023867' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6997520538214175844/posts/default/4626999243670023867'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6997520538214175844/posts/default/4626999243670023867'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kmnsays.blogspot.com/2008/08/mr-winks-is-nocturnal.html' title='Mr. Winks is Nocturnal'/><author><name>Brian, Melanie, Kaelyn, Gretchen, and Sophie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6997520538214175844.post-2034053674180086178</id><published>2008-08-28T16:15:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-28T16:24:52.070-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Kaelyn Says the Greatest Things</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Over the years, I have been keeping a journal of things that Kaelyn says during the day.  However, in this age of technology, I felt that it would be appropriate if I blogged what Kaelyn says during the day.  Someday, I will share this blog with Kaelyn and we will share a mother-daughter Hallmark moment.  For now, I will share what she says with all of you.  I hope you enjoy what she says as much as I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6997520538214175844-2034053674180086178?l=kmnsays.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kmnsays.blogspot.com/feeds/2034053674180086178/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6997520538214175844&amp;postID=2034053674180086178' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6997520538214175844/posts/default/2034053674180086178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6997520538214175844/posts/default/2034053674180086178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kmnsays.blogspot.com/2008/08/kaelyn-says-greatest-things.html' title='Kaelyn Says the Greatest Things'/><author><name>Brian, Melanie, Kaelyn, Gretchen, and Sophie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
