<?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-5855681468058292697</id><updated>2011-12-29T14:53:28.592-08:00</updated><category term='Nika'/><category term='Cookies'/><category term='Bathroom'/><category term='Christian'/><category term='Potty'/><title type='text'>What did you say?</title><subtitle type='html'>A blog inspired by the things we never thought we'd say or hear--until we had a kids.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaidwhat.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5855681468058292697/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaidwhat.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Andee</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>24</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855681468058292697.post-4648569260479854253</id><published>2009-08-14T14:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-14T14:22:39.617-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Grocery Shopping</title><content type='html'>A friend was in line at the grocery store with her six year old son. The clerk was friendly and chatting with everyone. The boy said to her, "Do you know everyone?" She replied, "I like to talk. I guess people just like me." At which point the boy looks at his mother (my friend). "Mom, you like to talk and no one likes you."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5855681468058292697-4648569260479854253?l=isaidwhat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaidwhat.blogspot.com/feeds/4648569260479854253/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5855681468058292697&amp;postID=4648569260479854253&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5855681468058292697/posts/default/4648569260479854253'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5855681468058292697/posts/default/4648569260479854253'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaidwhat.blogspot.com/2009/08/grocery-shopping.html' title='Grocery Shopping'/><author><name>Andee</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>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855681468058292697.post-3880202686564627022</id><published>2009-06-08T09:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-08T10:01:04.370-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Appropriate Dinner Attire</title><content type='html'>Said Emma and Mandy's dad: "No daughter of mine will sit at the dinner table topless."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5855681468058292697-3880202686564627022?l=isaidwhat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaidwhat.blogspot.com/feeds/3880202686564627022/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5855681468058292697&amp;postID=3880202686564627022&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5855681468058292697/posts/default/3880202686564627022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5855681468058292697/posts/default/3880202686564627022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaidwhat.blogspot.com/2009/06/appropriate-dinner-attire.html' title='Appropriate Dinner Attire'/><author><name>Andee</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>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855681468058292697.post-7238081127578605899</id><published>2009-05-26T09:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-26T09:31:05.391-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Overheard</title><content type='html'>**The injury sustained in the following anecdote was accidental and was quickly recovered from.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I overheard my husband say the following to my eldest son. The tone of his voice, more annoyed than anything, is what really struck me as humorous.&lt;br /&gt;"You didn't tell me that when you kicked your brother in the face, you gave him a bloody nose."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As it turns out, the little brother stepped in front of the big brother mid kung fu kick. He knew he would be in trouble if he didn't own up to what he did, so he admitted it, leaving out one tiny detail...&lt;br /&gt;Everyone is fine now. No blood on the carpet. The little one is likely to be more careful around kung fu, and the older one learned an important lesson about responsability.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5855681468058292697-7238081127578605899?l=isaidwhat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaidwhat.blogspot.com/feeds/7238081127578605899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5855681468058292697&amp;postID=7238081127578605899&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5855681468058292697/posts/default/7238081127578605899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5855681468058292697/posts/default/7238081127578605899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaidwhat.blogspot.com/2009/05/overheard.html' title='Overheard'/><author><name>Andee</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-5855681468058292697.post-6573564605843569327</id><published>2009-04-30T14:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-30T14:51:56.138-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Writing in Diarrhea</title><content type='html'>Last week our family suffered a bout of the Diarrhea.  It was a new word for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Nika&lt;/span&gt; and she got a little confused.  In the locker room after swim lessons, she asks me out of the blue,  "Do you write in Diarrhea?"  Instantly turning red among the other swim instructors I reply, "No, No &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;hunny&lt;/span&gt;!  Than is a Diary!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5855681468058292697-6573564605843569327?l=isaidwhat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaidwhat.blogspot.com/feeds/6573564605843569327/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5855681468058292697&amp;postID=6573564605843569327&amp;isPopup=true' title='17 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5855681468058292697/posts/default/6573564605843569327'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5855681468058292697/posts/default/6573564605843569327'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaidwhat.blogspot.com/2009/04/writing-in-diarrhea.html' title='Writing in Diarrhea'/><author><name>Meghan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09579401700880998909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>17</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855681468058292697.post-1510481412434718891</id><published>2009-02-12T12:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-12T12:46:07.279-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Art and Science of Communication</title><content type='html'>The following conversation actually took place, in front of witnesses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4 year old: "Mom, what does &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;no comprendo&lt;/span&gt; mean?"&lt;br /&gt;Me: I don't understand.&lt;br /&gt;4YO: What does &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;no comprendo&lt;/span&gt; mean?&lt;br /&gt;Me: I don't understand.&lt;br /&gt;4YO: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;NO COMPRENDO&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;No comprendo&lt;/span&gt; means I don't understand.&lt;br /&gt;4YO: Why didn't you just tell me that?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5855681468058292697-1510481412434718891?l=isaidwhat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaidwhat.blogspot.com/feeds/1510481412434718891/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5855681468058292697&amp;postID=1510481412434718891&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5855681468058292697/posts/default/1510481412434718891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5855681468058292697/posts/default/1510481412434718891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaidwhat.blogspot.com/2009/02/art-and-science-of-communication.html' title='The Art and Science of Communication'/><author><name>Andee</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>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855681468058292697.post-1169649078412357759</id><published>2009-02-05T07:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T07:54:09.946-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sick</title><content type='html'>This morning, Benton chatted with his cousin Emma on the phone. She was too sick to come see him, so they got the basics out of the way. Then I hear Emma through the speaker phone say. "I'm sicker than a cat."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5855681468058292697-1169649078412357759?l=isaidwhat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaidwhat.blogspot.com/feeds/1169649078412357759/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5855681468058292697&amp;postID=1169649078412357759&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5855681468058292697/posts/default/1169649078412357759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5855681468058292697/posts/default/1169649078412357759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaidwhat.blogspot.com/2009/02/sick.html' title='Sick'/><author><name>Andee</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-5855681468058292697.post-963386843913063911</id><published>2009-01-17T13:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-17T13:03:55.372-08:00</updated><title type='text'>VBC</title><content type='html'>This morning as I shoveled toys out from behind the crib, Benton started to laugh.&lt;br /&gt;"Mommy there's something funny about your butt!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Oh dear!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It sneaked out when you were bending over!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Argh!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5855681468058292697-963386843913063911?l=isaidwhat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaidwhat.blogspot.com/feeds/963386843913063911/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5855681468058292697&amp;postID=963386843913063911&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5855681468058292697/posts/default/963386843913063911'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5855681468058292697/posts/default/963386843913063911'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaidwhat.blogspot.com/2009/01/vbc.html' title='VBC'/><author><name>Andee</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>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855681468058292697.post-861306493837988006</id><published>2009-01-17T12:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-17T12:40:24.609-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't Die There</title><content type='html'>The other day I had to actually go into the bank. I gave Benton the privileged/responsibility of waiting for me in the waiting area. He did great at first, then I looked over and he was sprawled across the floor on his stomach.&lt;br /&gt;Me: (in a violent whisper) What are you doing?&lt;br /&gt;Benton: I'm pretending to be dead.&lt;br /&gt;Me: (still whispering violently) Come here, right now.&lt;br /&gt;He obeyed. I bent to his level and recognizing his need to pretend, but also recognizing the need for my son to properly comport himself in public, I said quite firmly, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Benton, if you are going to die, die in a chair like a civilized person.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5855681468058292697-861306493837988006?l=isaidwhat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaidwhat.blogspot.com/feeds/861306493837988006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5855681468058292697&amp;postID=861306493837988006&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5855681468058292697/posts/default/861306493837988006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5855681468058292697/posts/default/861306493837988006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaidwhat.blogspot.com/2009/01/dont-die-there.html' title='Don&apos;t Die There'/><author><name>Andee</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>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855681468058292697.post-6909549206190844989</id><published>2007-09-20T13:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-13T20:43:04.463-08:00</updated><title type='text'>More Potty Talk?!?</title><content type='html'>Today I was helping my niece use the Potty. She proceeded to wipe her bottom, before taking the paper off the roll. I was astonished to find myself saying, "take the paper off the roll before you wipe." I wonder if she would have just left the paper on the roll for the next person. Imagine!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5855681468058292697-6909549206190844989?l=isaidwhat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaidwhat.blogspot.com/feeds/6909549206190844989/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5855681468058292697&amp;postID=6909549206190844989&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5855681468058292697/posts/default/6909549206190844989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5855681468058292697/posts/default/6909549206190844989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaidwhat.blogspot.com/2007/09/more-potty-talk.html' title='More Potty Talk?!?'/><author><name>Meghan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09579401700880998909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855681468058292697.post-3291317691535096502</id><published>2007-08-23T15:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-23T16:00:22.971-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cleaning the Toliet</title><content type='html'>The other day I caught Nika using toothpaste and a toothbrush to clean the toliet.  "Nika the toilet doesn't need anymore toothpaste."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5855681468058292697-3291317691535096502?l=isaidwhat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaidwhat.blogspot.com/feeds/3291317691535096502/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5855681468058292697&amp;postID=3291317691535096502&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5855681468058292697/posts/default/3291317691535096502'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5855681468058292697/posts/default/3291317691535096502'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaidwhat.blogspot.com/2007/08/cleaning-toliet.html' title='Cleaning the Toliet'/><author><name>Meghan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09579401700880998909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855681468058292697.post-8821854166106175937</id><published>2007-08-23T15:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-23T15:40:37.524-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Two Funny Ones</title><content type='html'>Today Christian threw up on the floor (he was sort of choking), I set him down and walked around the corner to get stuff to clean it up.  When I came back I found Nika Jumping in the throw up.  As you can imagine I said, "Nika, Don't Jump in the Throw Up!"  I then quickly said to Kiley, "Don't walk in the Throw UP!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5855681468058292697-8821854166106175937?l=isaidwhat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaidwhat.blogspot.com/feeds/8821854166106175937/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5855681468058292697&amp;postID=8821854166106175937&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5855681468058292697/posts/default/8821854166106175937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5855681468058292697/posts/default/8821854166106175937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaidwhat.blogspot.com/2007/08/two-funny-ones.html' title='Two Funny Ones'/><author><name>Meghan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09579401700880998909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855681468058292697.post-3736209322642392763</id><published>2007-08-09T17:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-09T17:17:53.074-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Expired Puppies...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#663300;"&gt;OK, here's what I heard from my husband who was in the room with the boys as they played pillow-fight with Lexx, "&lt;em&gt;MALACHI!&lt;/em&gt; &lt;em&gt;GENTLE!&lt;/em&gt; Puppies who can't breath aren't puppies for very long!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#663300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5855681468058292697-3736209322642392763?l=isaidwhat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaidwhat.blogspot.com/feeds/3736209322642392763/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5855681468058292697&amp;postID=3736209322642392763&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5855681468058292697/posts/default/3736209322642392763'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5855681468058292697/posts/default/3736209322642392763'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaidwhat.blogspot.com/2007/08/expired-puppies.html' title='Expired Puppies...'/><author><name>The Brothers</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04515591953736573120</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='25' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vUNuEVex-ps/SyRfwTRK9mI/AAAAAAAADPY/f8XZD_rPkcY/S220/img_0543.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855681468058292697.post-2510204216670779665</id><published>2007-08-01T23:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-02T13:14:35.452-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dinner Party</title><content type='html'>We had some friends over for dinner tonight. The children were playing nicely in Ben's room when the other father went to check on them. "Why is the floor all wet in here?" He inquired. Since his audience consisted of a three-year old a two-year old and a year-and-a-half old, the answer was not forthcoming. Concerned that this could mean trouble, the other mother calls from the living room, "You'd better sniff it and see if it smells like pee."  "What?" he called back. "Get down on the floor and see if it smells like urine."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(It was water).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5855681468058292697-2510204216670779665?l=isaidwhat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaidwhat.blogspot.com/feeds/2510204216670779665/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5855681468058292697&amp;postID=2510204216670779665&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5855681468058292697/posts/default/2510204216670779665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5855681468058292697/posts/default/2510204216670779665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaidwhat.blogspot.com/2007/08/dinner-party.html' title='Dinner Party'/><author><name>Andee</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-5855681468058292697.post-5475967090167791024</id><published>2007-07-29T17:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-02T13:12:31.298-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Camping</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;"Take the pinecone out of the measuring cup."&lt;br /&gt;"Don't step on your brother."&lt;br /&gt;"Get out of bed. It's not nap time right now."&lt;br /&gt;"Why is there gravel in your diaper?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5855681468058292697-5475967090167791024?l=isaidwhat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaidwhat.blogspot.com/feeds/5475967090167791024/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5855681468058292697&amp;postID=5475967090167791024&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5855681468058292697/posts/default/5475967090167791024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5855681468058292697/posts/default/5475967090167791024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaidwhat.blogspot.com/2007/07/camping.html' title='Camping'/><author><name>Andee</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>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855681468058292697.post-2654289376055964113</id><published>2007-06-27T20:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-27T20:11:44.155-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Top 5 Things I Never Expected About Being a Parent:</title><content type='html'>5. That the word "poop" would become part of my daily vocabulary.&lt;br /&gt;4. That I would be able to say "breast feeding" with a staight face--or need to.&lt;br /&gt;3. That I would have to be restrained from smacking a doctor who was less than gentle with my wounded son.&lt;br /&gt;2. That seeing brothers hug would turn my heart into mush.&lt;br /&gt;1. That my hopes and dreams mean nothing aginst the bliss of two little boys.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5855681468058292697-2654289376055964113?l=isaidwhat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaidwhat.blogspot.com/feeds/2654289376055964113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5855681468058292697&amp;postID=2654289376055964113&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5855681468058292697/posts/default/2654289376055964113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5855681468058292697/posts/default/2654289376055964113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaidwhat.blogspot.com/2007/06/top-5-things-i-never-expected-about.html' title='Top 5 Things I Never Expected About Being a Parent:'/><author><name>Andee</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>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855681468058292697.post-1081484137210540175</id><published>2007-06-26T09:39:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-26T09:46:08.552-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;"Do not mutilate your meat, young man."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;At the tender age of 2.75, Benton is hardly a young man, but he was  exhibiting some very&lt;/span&gt; masculine carnivorous tendencies at dinner as he tried to tear his  steak in half with his bare hands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5855681468058292697-1081484137210540175?l=isaidwhat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaidwhat.blogspot.com/feeds/1081484137210540175/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5855681468058292697&amp;postID=1081484137210540175&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5855681468058292697/posts/default/1081484137210540175'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5855681468058292697/posts/default/1081484137210540175'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaidwhat.blogspot.com/2007/06/do-not-mutilate-your-meat-young-man.html' title=''/><author><name>Andee</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-5855681468058292697.post-8822803487872370923</id><published>2007-06-22T08:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-22T08:57:40.270-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bathroom'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christian'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Potty'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Nika'/><title type='text'>Potty Talk</title><content type='html'>I know this is supposed to be things Adults say, but Nika said the cutest thing.  She was trying to use the potty and and wanted some privacy.  So she said to her brother, "Get outta here, I need some 'Potty-see'"  It was so funny.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5855681468058292697-8822803487872370923?l=isaidwhat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaidwhat.blogspot.com/feeds/8822803487872370923/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5855681468058292697&amp;postID=8822803487872370923&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5855681468058292697/posts/default/8822803487872370923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5855681468058292697/posts/default/8822803487872370923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaidwhat.blogspot.com/2007/06/potty-talk.html' title='Potty Talk'/><author><name>Meghan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09579401700880998909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855681468058292697.post-155148878446668782</id><published>2007-06-07T17:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-09T08:40:17.054-07:00</updated><title type='text'>More Spit</title><content type='html'>"Do not spit in the dinner." That one kind of explains itself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5855681468058292697-155148878446668782?l=isaidwhat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaidwhat.blogspot.com/feeds/155148878446668782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5855681468058292697&amp;postID=155148878446668782&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5855681468058292697/posts/default/155148878446668782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5855681468058292697/posts/default/155148878446668782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaidwhat.blogspot.com/2007/06/do-not-spit-in-dinner-i-think-that-is.html' title='More Spit'/><author><name>Andee</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-5855681468058292697.post-189204018589959040</id><published>2007-05-25T11:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-25T11:29:22.767-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cookies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Potty'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Nika'/><title type='text'>Cookies Please?</title><content type='html'>Nika was looking for cookies in the Toilet this evening.  I said,&lt;br /&gt;"There are no cookies in the Potty!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5855681468058292697-189204018589959040?l=isaidwhat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaidwhat.blogspot.com/feeds/189204018589959040/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5855681468058292697&amp;postID=189204018589959040&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5855681468058292697/posts/default/189204018589959040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5855681468058292697/posts/default/189204018589959040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaidwhat.blogspot.com/2007/05/cookies-please.html' title='Cookies Please?'/><author><name>Meghan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09579401700880998909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855681468058292697.post-2846501631308903954</id><published>2007-05-15T18:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-15T19:03:05.330-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Set to the soundtrack of Kai having a spastic fit:</title><content type='html'>"Solomon! You are responsible for where your spit lands, mister!" said in response to, "It's not my fault! Malachi keeps walking right in front of me when I'm spitting!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5855681468058292697-2846501631308903954?l=isaidwhat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaidwhat.blogspot.com/feeds/2846501631308903954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5855681468058292697&amp;postID=2846501631308903954&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5855681468058292697/posts/default/2846501631308903954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5855681468058292697/posts/default/2846501631308903954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaidwhat.blogspot.com/2007/05/set-to-soundtrack-of-kai-having-spastic.html' title='Set to the soundtrack of Kai having a spastic fit:'/><author><name>The Brothers</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04515591953736573120</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='25' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vUNuEVex-ps/SyRfwTRK9mI/AAAAAAAADPY/f8XZD_rPkcY/S220/img_0543.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855681468058292697.post-6230439284643850971</id><published>2007-05-07T15:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-14T10:57:15.356-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Life Lessons</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;"It's time to stop sharing now."&lt;br /&gt;Benton had been informed he had enough M&amp;Ms and told not to eat any more. His solution was to get the M&amp;amp;Ms and give them to his friend Rachel. Rachel's Daddy decided she had enough as well and asked Benton not to give her any more. Benton had a hard time grasping the concept until his Daddy explained it to him very carefully...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5855681468058292697-6230439284643850971?l=isaidwhat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaidwhat.blogspot.com/feeds/6230439284643850971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5855681468058292697&amp;postID=6230439284643850971&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5855681468058292697/posts/default/6230439284643850971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5855681468058292697/posts/default/6230439284643850971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaidwhat.blogspot.com/2007/05/life-lessons.html' title='Life Lessons'/><author><name>Andee</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>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855681468058292697.post-4744425972700525833</id><published>2007-03-22T07:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-22T12:09:18.603-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Potty Mouth</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;"Potty goes in the toilet, not on the floor."&lt;br /&gt;"Mommy wants to go potty by herself."&lt;br /&gt;"How did you bonk your head on the potty?"&lt;br /&gt;"Benton, come get your letters out of the potty."&lt;br /&gt;Ahh, the joy of toilet training.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5855681468058292697-4744425972700525833?l=isaidwhat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaidwhat.blogspot.com/feeds/4744425972700525833/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5855681468058292697&amp;postID=4744425972700525833&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5855681468058292697/posts/default/4744425972700525833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5855681468058292697/posts/default/4744425972700525833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaidwhat.blogspot.com/2007/03/potty-mouth.html' title='Potty Mouth'/><author><name>Andee</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>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855681468058292697.post-8840400087986725182</id><published>2007-02-02T13:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-02T13:59:00.092-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"Emmaleigh, please take Jesus out of the Bible."&lt;br /&gt;Of course there is a story behind this one, and I did smiles as I heard the words cross my lips. I caught my 2 year-old trying to fold baby Jesus, a wise man, a penguin, and a cow between the pages of my Bible. The thin pages were about to tear under the pressure when I said the whole bit about taking Jesus out of the Bible. It made perfect sense at the time, just as Emma thought it was logical to put Jesus back in the Bible where He belongs.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5855681468058292697-8840400087986725182?l=isaidwhat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaidwhat.blogspot.com/feeds/8840400087986725182/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5855681468058292697&amp;postID=8840400087986725182&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5855681468058292697/posts/default/8840400087986725182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5855681468058292697/posts/default/8840400087986725182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaidwhat.blogspot.com/2007/02/emmaleigh-please-take-jesus-out-of.html' title=''/><author><name>Aly sun</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bGw0qFU3k1I/TR9simi1f9I/AAAAAAAAG-g/X3sMmzH15pY/S220/IMG_8420.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855681468058292697.post-3739753700056564571</id><published>2007-01-26T10:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-26T10:04:50.760-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Things I never thought I'd say</title><content type='html'>Before I was a mom, the things I said were normal, intelligent phrases--at least I think they were. But now, as the mother of a two year old, I hear the strangest phrases fall out of my mouth. Perhaps the strangest phenomenon of all is that, in context, these bizarre words make sense. In talking it over with friends, I am relieved to discover I'm not the only one. If you would like to share some of the things you never thought you'd say, whether as a parent, or in some other line of work, please feel free to comment away. Today's nugget: "Giraffes do not go in the microwave."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5855681468058292697-3739753700056564571?l=isaidwhat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isaidwhat.blogspot.com/feeds/3739753700056564571/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5855681468058292697&amp;postID=3739753700056564571&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5855681468058292697/posts/default/3739753700056564571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5855681468058292697/posts/default/3739753700056564571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isaidwhat.blogspot.com/2007/01/things-i-never-thought-id-say.html' title='Things I never thought I&apos;d say'/><author><name>Andee</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>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
