<?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-13024378</id><updated>2011-04-21T14:02:36.367-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Bubba Blog</title><subtitle type='html'>Bubba (Jack) is 3 years old and loves to say and do such silly things.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Abby Cannon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16042040234139716587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>46</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13024378.post-5724648554358806253</id><published>2007-08-31T12:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-31T12:38:26.316-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Moving</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fEX6fKo8XKU/RthR5xl35gI/AAAAAAAAAAo/jVsGwtJoHKI/s1600-h/bubmagchar.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fEX6fKo8XKU/RthR5xl35gI/AAAAAAAAAAo/jVsGwtJoHKI/s400/bubmagchar.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104920230631040514" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bubba has been hearing about how the cousins are moving and that people are looking at their house to possibly buy it.  Well the other day, Grammy took him and Charli over to the cousins to see their new dog, Betsy Johnson.  Grammy accidentally pulled into the neighbor's driveway without even realizing it and so Jack said, "Is this the cousins new house?"  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do wish it was their new house, but God in His kindness is sending the Reyes clan to Akron, OH where they can be a true blessing to a church in need.  We will cherish each day that we get to hang out with "the cousins" and we are looking forward to many long trips in the car that we will take for years and years to come when we get to visit them at their new home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13024378-5724648554358806253?l=bubbablogiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/feeds/5724648554358806253/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13024378&amp;postID=5724648554358806253&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/5724648554358806253'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/5724648554358806253'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/2007/08/moving.html' title='Moving'/><author><name>Abby Cannon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16042040234139716587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fEX6fKo8XKU/RthR5xl35gI/AAAAAAAAAAo/jVsGwtJoHKI/s72-c/bubmagchar.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13024378.post-6828813816524374556</id><published>2007-06-26T07:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-26T07:37:07.624-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Play "Family"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fEX6fKo8XKU/RoEIQ5aG79I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xIdrVG_i1DU/s1600-h/bubaby8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fEX6fKo8XKU/RoEIQ5aG79I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xIdrVG_i1DU/s400/bubaby8.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5080350941031886802" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of Jack's favorite things to play is "Family".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll over hear him talking to Charli...  "Come on Baby, let's play Family.  You be the mom and I'll be the child".  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bubba is such a good big brother and he always includes Charli in his little games of make believe.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13024378-6828813816524374556?l=bubbablogiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/feeds/6828813816524374556/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13024378&amp;postID=6828813816524374556&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/6828813816524374556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/6828813816524374556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/2007/06/play-family.html' title='Play &quot;Family&quot;'/><author><name>Abby Cannon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16042040234139716587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fEX6fKo8XKU/RoEIQ5aG79I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xIdrVG_i1DU/s72-c/bubaby8.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13024378.post-117599281782683658</id><published>2007-04-07T19:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-07T19:40:17.836-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Nicknames</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/8150/1128/1600/713042/charli%20cheese%20face.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/8150/1128/320/978615/charli%20cheese%20face.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bubba loves his baby sister soooo much.  He still thinks she's a baby I think, even though she's 2.  He typically calls her baby, baby girl, and his newest favorite is baby darling.  I'm not sure where he got that one from.  He still calls her Monkeysue at times also.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well during Christmas time, one of Jack's favorite songs was "Feliz Navidad".  He would sing at the top of his lungs, "Fayleece Nohbeedon my mercy bellies..." and I don't remember what else he sang after that.  So recently, I told Bubba that Charli's real name was Charlize.  So then he broke out in song singing Charlize Nohbeedon!  That's his newest nickname for her!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13024378-117599281782683658?l=bubbablogiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/feeds/117599281782683658/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13024378&amp;postID=117599281782683658&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/117599281782683658'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/117599281782683658'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/2007/04/nicknames.html' title='Nicknames'/><author><name>Abby Cannon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16042040234139716587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13024378.post-117140626925219374</id><published>2007-02-13T17:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-13T17:37:49.313-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Buds!</title><content type='html'>Some pics of Bubba and his buds!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/8150/1128/1600/671787/raven%27s%20fans.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/8150/1128/320/43087/raven%27s%20fans.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/8150/1128/1600/298242/jackkyleglasses.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/8150/1128/320/704732/jackkyleglasses.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/8150/1128/1600/670741/zekejacksuperheroes.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/8150/1128/320/297911/zekejacksuperheroes.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13024378-117140626925219374?l=bubbablogiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/feeds/117140626925219374/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13024378&amp;postID=117140626925219374&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/117140626925219374'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/117140626925219374'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/2007/02/buds_13.html' title='Buds!'/><author><name>Abby Cannon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16042040234139716587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13024378.post-115440579362343172</id><published>2006-07-31T22:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-31T23:16:33.666-05:00</updated><title type='text'>God Speaks</title><content type='html'>The other day, I was down at Meemaw and Peepaw's house and my dad and I decided to take Bubba on a short ride to the home of our favorite idol...Starbucks, of course.  :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, we get to the parking lot, and I started to tease Bubba.  He asked me if he could get of the car and come into Starbucks with us.  I said, "No, I think you need to stay in here and wait for us".  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then my dad started to join in the fun and said, "I think we should pray about it and see what the Lord says".  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Immediately we heard Jack say, "He said YES!"  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8150/1128/1600/Jack%20and%20Mommy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8150/1128/400/Jack%20and%20Mommy.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13024378-115440579362343172?l=bubbablogiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/feeds/115440579362343172/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13024378&amp;postID=115440579362343172&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/115440579362343172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/115440579362343172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/2006/07/god-speaks.html' title='God Speaks'/><author><name>Abby Cannon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16042040234139716587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13024378.post-115411261180477976</id><published>2006-07-28T13:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-28T13:50:11.816-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Brotherly Love</title><content type='html'>Bubba's so sweet with his baby sister.  And she just adores him!  :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8150/1128/1600/jackgivebottlesweet.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8150/1128/400/jackgivebottlesweet.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13024378-115411261180477976?l=bubbablogiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/feeds/115411261180477976/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13024378&amp;postID=115411261180477976&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/115411261180477976'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/115411261180477976'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/2006/07/brotherly-love.html' title='Brotherly Love'/><author><name>Abby Cannon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16042040234139716587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13024378.post-114982093272074288</id><published>2006-06-08T21:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-08T21:42:12.740-05:00</updated><title type='text'>This Is No Fairy Tale</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8150/1128/1600/Picture%202.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8150/1128/320/Picture%202.png" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8150/1128/1600/Picture%203.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8150/1128/320/Picture%203.png" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jimmy brought home a book called "This Is No Fairy Tale".  It is a precious children's book with beautiful illustrations.  Basically the book is the story of Jesus' life, but with each page there is a contrast between what really happened and what would have happened if Jesus' life was a fairy tale.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I decided to read it to Bubba and he really seemed to be interested and enjoying it.  We went through the beginning of Jesus' life and written were things like, "If this were a fairy tale, Jesus would have been born in a big castle in a great kingdom...The truth is, Jesus was born to a poor family in a small country..."  So you can see how gripping it is to see how humble Christ was and how He chose a lowly, simple life.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the story goes on and talks about how Jesus allowed Himself to be arrested instead of commanding the soldiers to bow to Him.  And then it shows how He was wrongfully accused and could have rode into battle on a mighty horse, but was beaten and mocked and stood before a crowd that cheered for Him to be crucified.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well by this point in the book I am really starting to get broken up and feeling so aware of Christ's humility and seeing how He chose to obey and die in my place and I'm thinking that my little, sweet boy is being affected in the same way.  The thought actually crossed my mind, "I wonder if today's the day of salvation for him!"  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, let's just say I was wrong, because as we were looking at the page that had a picture of Jesus on trial, being guarded by the soldiers, Jack said to me, "Mom, can I have that sword and helmet for my birthday?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13024378-114982093272074288?l=bubbablogiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/feeds/114982093272074288/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13024378&amp;postID=114982093272074288&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/114982093272074288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/114982093272074288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/2006/06/this-is-no-fairy-tale.html' title='This Is No Fairy Tale'/><author><name>Abby Cannon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16042040234139716587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13024378.post-114969179516861629</id><published>2006-06-07T09:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-07T10:03:31.886-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Telephone</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8150/1128/1600/jack%20phone.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8150/1128/320/jack%20phone.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure if I'm the only one, but I'm pretty sure that I'm not alone in this area. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As soon as I start talking on the phone, my kids turn into wild monkeys.  It's bizarre!  It's like they know that I'm not paying full attention to them and they kind of go into that psycho mode.  That's why I keep my phone conversations to a minimum when they're awake.  I think I spend most of my time on the phone asking them to "be quiet please".  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I think this happens a lot, because the other day I was in my bedroom getting Charli ready for bed.  I was tickling her and making her laugh and we were definitely being loud.  Well Bubba came over with his play phone on his ear and looked at me so serious and he said, "Excuse me Mama, but could you be quiet please?"  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So to set a good example for him, I said, "Sure honey, I'll be quiet so you can talk on the phone."  I don't think he's learned from my example yet, but we're working on it...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13024378-114969179516861629?l=bubbablogiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/feeds/114969179516861629/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13024378&amp;postID=114969179516861629&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/114969179516861629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/114969179516861629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/2006/06/telephone.html' title='The Telephone'/><author><name>Abby Cannon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16042040234139716587</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-13024378.post-114968924443475608</id><published>2006-06-07T08:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-07T09:07:24.456-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Let's Go To ALPHA!</title><content type='html'>We have a 10 week course at our church called ALPHA.  It is a great course that gives unbelievers and new believers opportunities to hear about the gospel, eat a meal together, and ask any questions they might have.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, lately I've been trying to help Jack to learn his letters.  So when I told him that we were going to ALPHA, he got real excited and said, "Yea, let's go to Alphabet!"  It was so cute and so I didn't correct him.  But it was really sad when we got to the church and he went up to the double doors to go inside.  He looked at me when he realized where we were and said, "Mom, this isn't alphabet, this is church!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13024378-114968924443475608?l=bubbablogiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/feeds/114968924443475608/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13024378&amp;postID=114968924443475608&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/114968924443475608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/114968924443475608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/2006/06/lets-go-to-alpha.html' title='Let&apos;s Go To ALPHA!'/><author><name>Abby Cannon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16042040234139716587</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-13024378.post-114408671404177731</id><published>2006-04-03T12:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-04-03T12:51:54.100-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Growing Up Fast</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8150/1128/1600/bubbaspidey2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8150/1128/320/bubbaspidey2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8150/1128/1600/jack-bb-4-26-03.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8150/1128/320/jack-bb-4-26-03.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow, I can't believe that I have a son who doesn't wear diapers anymore, sleeps in a big boy bed, and has full length conversations on the phone with his Meemaw and Peepaw.  It's kinda scary how they're born, they start to eat baby food, and then all of a sudden they're potty trained.  Speaking of being potty trained, I guess I finally pushed through and did it!  After Christmas, I decided that January was going to be the big month of "goeen on da toelet"  as Jack puts it.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first 2 days of training began and let's just say he wasn't getting it.  I'd put him on the toilet for like 15 minutes and as soon as he got down, he would pee on Grammy's carpet.   The thought of not having anymore children actually crossed my mind.  Thankfully I don't feel that way anymore.  After much frustration into the 2nd day, the brilliant idea of praying came to mind.  :)  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, the  Lord gave me new patience and some fresh ideas to try on the 3rd day.  Grammy said that when Jimmy was little, he would stand on a stool and try to aim into the toilet and that seemed to work.  So, we got the stool and tried it, and what do ya know...it worked for us too!  It's amazing how at the age of 2 1/2, a little boy has absolutely no shame. I would put him on the stool and give him 2 "guys" to play with.  Standing there with his pants around his ankles, he would just begin to dialog back and forth with his little men.  I saw him and smiled after 2 days of "the deer caught in headlights" look.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow, it's amazing how when you actually ask the Lord for help, He will help you.  Poor little guy finally got the Snowman Pez dispenser he was promised once he went on the toilet.  And let me just tell you that that little snowman was emptied as fast as it was filled.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I definitely have faith for those future obstacles that come my way.  I know that the Lord's grace is truly sufficient and all I need for each season of my life.  And there aren't too many things cuter than a tiny hiney in little Spiderman undies.  :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13024378-114408671404177731?l=bubbablogiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/feeds/114408671404177731/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13024378&amp;postID=114408671404177731&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/114408671404177731'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/114408671404177731'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/2006/04/growing-up-fast.html' title='Growing Up Fast'/><author><name>Abby Cannon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16042040234139716587</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>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13024378.post-113192948034036048</id><published>2005-11-13T19:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-13T19:51:20.340-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Where Dada?</title><content type='html'>Bubba loves to play "hiding" with his Daddy.  One of them will hide under the blanket and the other one will ask whoever else is in the room where the one under the blanket is.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For example, if Jack is under the blanket, Jimmy will say to me, "Where's Bubba????"  Then I'll say something like, "Is he on the deck?"  Or, "Did he go in the laundry room?"  And then Jack will come out from under the blanket and say, "I right here!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I thought it was so funny when Jimmy was under the blanket and I asked, "Where's Daddy, Bubba?"  And his response was, "Is he on the toilet?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13024378-113192948034036048?l=bubbablogiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/feeds/113192948034036048/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13024378&amp;postID=113192948034036048&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/113192948034036048'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/113192948034036048'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/2005/11/where-dada.html' title='Where Dada?'/><author><name>Abby Cannon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16042040234139716587</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>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13024378.post-113192886233718501</id><published>2005-11-13T19:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-13T19:41:02.363-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Favorite Fruit</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8150/1128/1600/bubbafruitsnack.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8150/1128/200/bubbafruitsnack.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In Bubba's Sunday school class the kids were sharing what their favorite fruit was.  Some said banana, some said apple, some said orange.  Then the Sunday school teacher asked Bubba what his favorite fruit was.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's amazing how our hearts can be revealed in two small words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bubba's response was, "fruit snacks".  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know what you're thinking, and yes, I do feed my son real fruit.  He just loooooves his fruit snacks and those two small words run through his mind all day long.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13024378-113192886233718501?l=bubbablogiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/feeds/113192886233718501/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13024378&amp;postID=113192886233718501&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/113192886233718501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/113192886233718501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/2005/11/my-favorite-fruit.html' title='My Favorite Fruit'/><author><name>Abby Cannon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16042040234139716587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13024378.post-113159995879546842</id><published>2005-11-10T00:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-10T00:19:18.816-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mr. Potato Head</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8150/1128/1600/mombubbafaces.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8150/1128/400/mombubbafaces.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Buba likes to imitate me too much.  It's a bit scary when you realize what you say all the time, but hear it repeated in a toddler voice.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things like:&lt;br /&gt;"Yea, I fink it is!"  &lt;br /&gt;"Are you Tidding?"&lt;br /&gt;"Otay"&lt;br /&gt;"Do you underthtand?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, the other day Bubba was playing with Mr. Potato Head and was seeming a bit disturbed.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, his Auntie said, "Is Mr. Potato head okay?"  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack replied with, "He's being demanding".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13024378-113159995879546842?l=bubbablogiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/feeds/113159995879546842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13024378&amp;postID=113159995879546842&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/113159995879546842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/113159995879546842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/2005/11/mr-potato-head.html' title='Mr. Potato Head'/><author><name>Abby Cannon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16042040234139716587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13024378.post-113159883852054997</id><published>2005-11-09T23:48:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-10T00:35:29.793-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Let's Play Star Wars!</title><content type='html'>Bubba has learned to "play Star Wars" from his cousins and his big kid friends the Hevesy's.  The other day he was holding Luke Skywalker (which was his daddy's when he was little) and was having his own conversation with him.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then he said to me, "I Luke, Mama".  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was holding his baby sister and so I said, "Can baby Charli be Princess Leah?"  I was trying to make the role playing connection that Luke and Leah were brother and sister in the movies.  (For the uneducated)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I was hoping he would make the connection and ask me to be Queen Amidala who was their mom in the movie.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But of course he said, "Mom, you Yoda".  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lovely.  Thanks a lot.  I guess I should be glad that he didn't say Jaba the Hut.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13024378-113159883852054997?l=bubbablogiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/feeds/113159883852054997/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13024378&amp;postID=113159883852054997&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/113159883852054997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/113159883852054997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/2005/11/lets-play-star-wars_09.html' title='Let&apos;s Play Star Wars!'/><author><name>Abby Cannon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16042040234139716587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13024378.post-112774442339945247</id><published>2005-09-26T09:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-09-26T09:20:23.410-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Reading a Magazine</title><content type='html'>The other day Bubba was looking at a Lego magazine.  He was so focused.  Jimmy came over and started to look at it with him.  Jimmy started to ask him what he liked on this page or that page.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Jack pointed to one of the legos on the page, looked at Jimmy and said, "Hey Dad, do you want dat for your birt-day?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13024378-112774442339945247?l=bubbablogiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/feeds/112774442339945247/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13024378&amp;postID=112774442339945247&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/112774442339945247'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/112774442339945247'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/2005/09/reading-magazine.html' title='Reading a Magazine'/><author><name>Abby Cannon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16042040234139716587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13024378.post-112735289503631100</id><published>2005-09-21T20:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-09-21T20:34:55.046-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Beach!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8150/1128/1600/bubbatowel.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8150/1128/400/bubbatowel.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8150/1128/1600/bbgirlbikini.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8150/1128/400/bbgirlbikini.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're having fun at the beach!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13024378-112735289503631100?l=bubbablogiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/feeds/112735289503631100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13024378&amp;postID=112735289503631100&amp;isPopup=true' title='16 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/112735289503631100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/112735289503631100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/2005/09/beach.html' title='The Beach!'/><author><name>Abby Cannon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16042040234139716587</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>16</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13024378.post-112658923690921570</id><published>2005-09-12T23:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-09-13T00:33:23.730-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hershey's Miniatures</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8150/1128/1600/bubbaprofile%20copy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8150/1128/200/bubbaprofile%20copy.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack's great Grandma and great Aunt have been staying in the "Cannon Hotel" since the hurricane in New Orleans 2 weeks ago.  I call it that because we're living with my husband's family also until our house is ready to move in to.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, Great Grandma loves Hershey's miniatures and loves to give them to the great grandchildren.  They're the variety pack of chocolates that have the Mr. Goodbar (my favorite), Krackel, Dark and Milk chocolates.  Bubba loves to go in to Great Grandma's room and ask for some of her sweets.  Of course she would let him eat them all day, but I let him have like 2 or 3 max a day.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day I went in to her room to see what he was up to, because I realized that he was in there alone.  I found him lounging on Great Grandma's sofa, with her pillow propped behind him.  He had a wrapper lying beside him and was in the process of opening his next krackel.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's just say he looked like a greek god waiting to be fed his grapes and cheese.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little Stinker.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13024378-112658923690921570?l=bubbablogiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/feeds/112658923690921570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13024378&amp;postID=112658923690921570&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/112658923690921570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/112658923690921570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/2005/09/hersheys-miniatures.html' title='Hershey&apos;s Miniatures'/><author><name>Abby Cannon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16042040234139716587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13024378.post-112653622073240497</id><published>2005-09-12T09:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-09-12T09:43:40.736-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Family of Musicians</title><content type='html'>Almost everyone in my family plays an instrument.  My dad taught my brothers and me how to play and sing.  A song that I was singing on came on and I asked Bubba who was singing.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said, "It's mama!"  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said, "Yea!  And Peepaw is playing the guitar!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He then said with confidence, "And Great Grandma is playing the drums!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure who was playing the drums, but I'm pretty sure it wasn't Great Grandma.  :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13024378-112653622073240497?l=bubbablogiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/feeds/112653622073240497/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13024378&amp;postID=112653622073240497&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/112653622073240497'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/112653622073240497'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/2005/09/family-of-musicians.html' title='A Family of Musicians'/><author><name>Abby Cannon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16042040234139716587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13024378.post-112653553517999967</id><published>2005-09-12T09:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-09-12T09:32:15.186-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Praying</title><content type='html'>Last week was Bubba's first week in his "big boy" sunday school class.  All the kids were sitting around a table with the teachers.  They said a little prayer together.  They ended the prayer by saying, "In Jesus' name...AMEN!"  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Bubba said, "Where's the food?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13024378-112653553517999967?l=bubbablogiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/feeds/112653553517999967/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13024378&amp;postID=112653553517999967&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/112653553517999967'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/112653553517999967'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/2005/09/praying.html' title='Praying'/><author><name>Abby Cannon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16042040234139716587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13024378.post-112566975477242195</id><published>2005-09-02T08:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-09-02T09:02:34.786-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Not a Superhero</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8150/1128/1600/DSC_0057.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8150/1128/320/DSC_0057.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day, Grammy was asking Bubba if he was a superhero.  She would say, "Are you Batman?", or "Are you Spiderman?", or "Are you Mr. Incredible?"  After each name, he would say, "No!"  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then he ended the conversation by saying, "I your angel!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13024378-112566975477242195?l=bubbablogiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/feeds/112566975477242195/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13024378&amp;postID=112566975477242195&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/112566975477242195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/112566975477242195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/2005/09/not-superhero.html' title='Not a Superhero'/><author><name>Abby Cannon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16042040234139716587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13024378.post-112506716415579662</id><published>2005-08-26T09:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-08-26T09:39:24.166-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Precious</title><content type='html'>The other night, Grammy and Papu took Bubba to visit a dear friend from church, Debbie Pryor, who recently had surgery.  Grammy told Bubba that she had to have an operation.  He said, "I'm sorry, is she sad?"  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, Debbie showed Bubba her bird named Precious.  Jack saw the bright yellow and orange bird and said, "feedy"!&lt;br /&gt;Grammy kept asking him if he was saying Pheobe.  She kept telling him that the bird's name was Precious, not Pheobe.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later on, Grammy was telling Jimmy and me about what he was calling the bird.  Neither of us could understand him or figure out what name he kept calling the bird.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, 2 days later, Bubba's older cousin, Sierra, informed us that he was saying, "Tweety".  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's amazing that it took a 13 year old to translate the most obvious bird name in all of history.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13024378-112506716415579662?l=bubbablogiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/feeds/112506716415579662/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13024378&amp;postID=112506716415579662&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/112506716415579662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/112506716415579662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/2005/08/precious.html' title='Precious'/><author><name>Abby Cannon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16042040234139716587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13024378.post-112385968979270807</id><published>2005-08-12T10:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-08-12T10:26:04.950-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Zerbies</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8150/1128/1600/DSC_0062.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8150/1128/200/DSC_0062.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like most kids, Bubba loves when Daddy blows zerberts on his tummy.  He says, "do zerbies dada!"  Of course it makes that lovely "tooting" sound and makes him laugh hysterically.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other night Jimmy was lying on the floor with him "doing zerbies", and each time that "tooting" sound occured, I would say, "eeewww, did you toot?"  He thought that was so funny.  So I kept saying it each time and got an even better response as we progressed.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, he said, "I do zerbies on daddy!"  So he did it, and then to try to be funny like me, he accidentally mixed up his words and said, "dad, did you poop?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13024378-112385968979270807?l=bubbablogiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/feeds/112385968979270807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13024378&amp;postID=112385968979270807&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/112385968979270807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/112385968979270807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/2005/08/zerbies.html' title='Zerbies'/><author><name>Abby Cannon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16042040234139716587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13024378.post-112148434190037096</id><published>2005-07-15T22:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-07-15T22:25:41.906-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sweeties</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8150/1128/1600/collage%20copy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8150/1128/320/collage%20copy.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aren't they adorable!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13024378-112148434190037096?l=bubbablogiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/feeds/112148434190037096/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13024378&amp;postID=112148434190037096&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/112148434190037096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/112148434190037096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/2005/07/sweeties.html' title='Sweeties'/><author><name>Abby Cannon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16042040234139716587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13024378.post-112135419801814838</id><published>2005-07-14T10:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-07-15T08:43:01.123-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dish towel</title><content type='html'>One day after Bubba woke up from his nap, I let him watch a show on tv while I was finishing up the dishes.  He was still a bit groggy and trying to wake up completely.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where he was sitting, was between me in the kitchen and the door to the laundry room.  When you're in the kitchen, you can see through an opening in the wall to the family room.  So, instead of just walking over to the laundry room and throwing the dirty dish towel in there, I decided to try to throw it in front of the laundry room door.  Unfortunately, the damp, filthy towel opened up in mid-air and covered Bubba's head completely.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poor little guy was in such shock and of course I couldn't restrain myself from hysterically laughing.  Thankfully, he thought it was funny as well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13024378-112135419801814838?l=bubbablogiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/feeds/112135419801814838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13024378&amp;postID=112135419801814838&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/112135419801814838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/112135419801814838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/2005/07/dish-towel.html' title='Dish towel'/><author><name>Abby Cannon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16042040234139716587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13024378.post-112135415208132889</id><published>2005-07-14T10:15:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2005-07-16T11:49:52.473-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Lolipop Guy</title><content type='html'>For those of you who have children, I'm sure you've experienced a time when they were so exhausted that they started getting very silly.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, the other night we went to the church softball game.  It was at Beachmont Christian Camp.  If you've ever been there, you know that there are lots of huge hills.  Well I think Bubba ended walking up every one of them.  By the time we left, he was pretty exhausted.  As we were driving home, he was sucking on his lolipop as I was asking him questions about different people's names.  I was saying things like, "Who is Iris' mommy and daddy?"  or, "Who is Zeke's mommy and daddy?" then I said, "What's mommy's name?"  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said, "Abby".  I was pretty shocked that he knew.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I said, "What's daddy's name?"  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said, "Lolipop Guy".  Through my laughter, I tried to ask him why daddy was lolipop guy.  He responded by saying, "Because he has a mustache".  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those of you who haven't seen my husband, he DOESN'T have a mustache.  And, I'm pretty sure his name isn't lolipop guy.  I think he was definitely being silly and just ready to go to bed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13024378-112135415208132889?l=bubbablogiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/feeds/112135415208132889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13024378&amp;postID=112135415208132889&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/112135415208132889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/112135415208132889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/2005/07/lolipop-guy.html' title='Lolipop Guy'/><author><name>Abby Cannon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16042040234139716587</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-13024378.post-112135417654802859</id><published>2005-07-14T10:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-07-15T08:36:55.566-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Please say Thank You</title><content type='html'>It can be pretty embarrassing when your child bosses other kids around.  Thankfully this time it was his cousins, so they were a little more forgiving.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack was riding in his Auntie's van and was sitting on the middle bench of the minivan.  He was handing fruit loops back over to his cousins on the back bench.  After they would grab the cereal, he would then say what he hears me say about 50 times a day, "Please say thank you".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13024378-112135417654802859?l=bubbablogiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/feeds/112135417654802859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13024378&amp;postID=112135417654802859&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/112135417654802859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/112135417654802859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/2005/07/please-say-thank-you.html' title='Please say Thank You'/><author><name>Abby Cannon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16042040234139716587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13024378.post-112083240237310581</id><published>2005-07-08T09:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-07-15T22:45:44.033-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Where Jesus?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8150/1128/1600/DSC_0263.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8150/1128/320/DSC_0263.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8150/1128/1600/DSC_0056.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8150/1128/320/DSC_0056.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently at church, I was holding Bubba during worship.  I was telling him to sing "Jesus" because we were singing, "Jesus, thank you".  He was giving me the pondering look.  So I said it again.  Then he finally said, "Where Jesus?"  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the other night I was putting him in bed and he was trying to get me to let him stay up.  He was telling me that he was scared and wanted the light on.  I was trying to find out why he was scared.  I started to pray with him and he calmed right down.  I told him that Jesus was with him and that He was protecting him and keeping him safe.  &lt;br /&gt;Then he gave me that same pondering look and said again, "Where Jesus?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's just say that I did my best to explain to him where Jesus was.  He knows that Jesus died on the cross for him, but it can be a bit confusing for him when I'm talking about Jesus like He should walk in the room or something.  It was very good for me and for him, I hope.  :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13024378-112083240237310581?l=bubbablogiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/feeds/112083240237310581/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13024378&amp;postID=112083240237310581&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/112083240237310581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/112083240237310581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/2005/07/where-jesus.html' title='Where Jesus?'/><author><name>Abby Cannon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16042040234139716587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13024378.post-112083185943912295</id><published>2005-07-08T09:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-07-08T09:10:59.446-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Robot Guy</title><content type='html'>Bubba loves to put his guys, especially spidey, in the tissue box.  I think he thinks they're hiding in there.  Well, this morning he walked up to me and said, "I robot guy!"  I looked down and saw the tissue box on his foot.  He did look like a robot guy, (even though I'm not really sure what a robot guy looks like) but it just seemed like that was what a robot guy would look like.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13024378-112083185943912295?l=bubbablogiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/feeds/112083185943912295/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13024378&amp;postID=112083185943912295&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/112083185943912295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/112083185943912295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/2005/07/robot-guy.html' title='Robot Guy'/><author><name>Abby Cannon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16042040234139716587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13024378.post-112058623292143567</id><published>2005-07-05T12:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-07-05T12:59:01.893-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Happy!</title><content type='html'>Bubba has a funny way of calling things "happy" when it's opposite of something he doesn't like.  Here's some examples:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The show's not scary, it's happy&lt;br /&gt;The french fries aren't hot, they're happy&lt;br /&gt;The candy's not spicy, it's happy&lt;br /&gt;My room's not dark, it's happy&lt;br /&gt;The water's not cold, it's happy&lt;br /&gt;The diaper's not yucky, it's happy&lt;br /&gt;(you get the idea)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure why he says happy for the opposite, but one night we were walking out to get into the car and he saw the moon and told me it was also "happy".  I don't know if he really knows what that word means, but he does use it correctly when I ask him if he needs a spankin' for not obeying.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He says, "no mama, I happy!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13024378-112058623292143567?l=bubbablogiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/feeds/112058623292143567/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13024378&amp;postID=112058623292143567&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/112058623292143567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/112058623292143567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/2005/07/its-happy.html' title='It&apos;s Happy!'/><author><name>Abby Cannon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16042040234139716587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13024378.post-112027724258905898</id><published>2005-07-01T22:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-07-15T22:30:26.463-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Reading a book</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8150/1128/1600/DSC_0264.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8150/1128/320/DSC_0264.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jimmy wanted to read a book with Bubba when he got home from work.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bubba said, "no". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jimmy told him to go a pick out a book, so he did.  As he brought it over to him, Jimmy started to grab him to put him in his lap.  Bubba was still resisting, and so Jimmy said, "Bubba, don't you want Daddy to read you a book?"  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bubba wanted to read, he just didn't want to sit in Jimmy's lap.  We realized why, when he said, "I poopin', Daddy".  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jimmy gave him a few minutes to do the "Jack Squat!"  Then Jimmy asked him again if he was ready to read the book.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bubba replied with, "I still poopin'"  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright, I guess it's almost time to start potty training...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13024378-112027724258905898?l=bubbablogiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/feeds/112027724258905898/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13024378&amp;postID=112027724258905898&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/112027724258905898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/112027724258905898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/2005/07/reading-book.html' title='Reading a book'/><author><name>Abby Cannon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16042040234139716587</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>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13024378.post-111964083377587682</id><published>2005-06-24T14:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-24T14:20:33.776-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Napoleon Dynamite</title><content type='html'>A few months ago, I was watching Napoleon Dynamite and bubba got really into it.  I would have thought that he would have been bored to death, but he proved me wrong.  He sat through the whole thing.  I skipped the "anger" and "slapping" scenes, just to be safe.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was so funny, because he really liked Uncle Rico.  Every time the scene would change, he would say, "Where Unca Rico go, Mama?"  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About 3 months after he watched the movie, my brother Jake was playing the soundtrack on his computer.  I told him to play the "Uncle Rico" song without bubba hearing me say that.  For those of you who haven't seen the movie, it's this funky bass and electric guitar song that sounds pretty 70's-ish.  Anyways, I said to bubba, "What song is this?"  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said, "Unca Rico!"  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I about fell out of my chair, because we hadn't spoken of Unca Rico since he saw the movie.  Hopefully his obsession with him has faded away.  You see, Unca Rico wasn't really the good guy of the movie.  He was pretty proud and thought he could throw a football "over them mountains".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13024378-111964083377587682?l=bubbablogiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/feeds/111964083377587682/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13024378&amp;postID=111964083377587682&amp;isPopup=true' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/111964083377587682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/111964083377587682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/2005/06/napoleon-dynamite.html' title='Napoleon Dynamite'/><author><name>Abby Cannon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16042040234139716587</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>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13024378.post-111945253928482122</id><published>2005-06-22T09:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-22T10:02:19.290-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sandbox</title><content type='html'>I find it hilarious that most children repeat statements that they hear adults say.  Especially their parents and grandparents, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meemaw has a sandbox in her backyard that all the grandkids absolutely love.  Jack will sit in it for hours without complaint and usually does a pretty good job not getting sand all over himself.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day, though, he was playing in it while Meemaw was basking in the sun in a lawn chair nearby.  He started to fling the sand so Meemaw said, "Bubba, don't fling the sand because it could get in your eyes."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bubba replied, "Da be sad, right?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think my mom and I say that to him all the time.  :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13024378-111945253928482122?l=bubbablogiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/feeds/111945253928482122/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13024378&amp;postID=111945253928482122&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/111945253928482122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/111945253928482122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/2005/06/sandbox.html' title='Sandbox'/><author><name>Abby Cannon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16042040234139716587</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>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13024378.post-111928313922008675</id><published>2005-06-20T10:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-20T10:58:59.220-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Seatbelt</title><content type='html'>Jack loves his firetruck from Grammy.  It's got doors that open so he can put little guys in the front seats.  He was playing with it the other day and said, "Where's his seatbelt, mama?"  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said, "I don't know."  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, with a concerned look on his face, he said, "But he needs his seatbelt, mama!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow!  I'm so glad that my son is aware of a need for safety precautions.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13024378-111928313922008675?l=bubbablogiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/feeds/111928313922008675/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13024378&amp;postID=111928313922008675&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/111928313922008675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/111928313922008675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/2005/06/seatbelt.html' title='Seatbelt'/><author><name>Abby Cannon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16042040234139716587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13024378.post-111928288754205029</id><published>2005-06-20T10:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-20T10:54:47.543-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Otay!</title><content type='html'>Bubba cracks me up!  The way he asks for things is so cute.  He'll see something on the counter that he wants and then he'll ask for it.  But sometimes it's confusing, so I'll repeat what I think he's saying just to clarify his question.  Here's an example. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He'll say, "Hey mom, I want one of dose right up dayah!"  Then, even if he knows he's not supposed to have one, he knows I'll say, "You want one of these cookies?"  Of course I'm not offering, I'm just trying to clarify his statement.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then he says, "Otay".  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poor guy thinks I'm offering.  Oh well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13024378-111928288754205029?l=bubbablogiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/feeds/111928288754205029/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13024378&amp;postID=111928288754205029&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/111928288754205029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/111928288754205029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/2005/06/otay.html' title='Otay!'/><author><name>Abby Cannon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16042040234139716587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13024378.post-111928238987440552</id><published>2005-06-20T10:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-20T10:46:29.883-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Syndrome</title><content type='html'>For being only 2 years old, Bubba does a decent job at speaking clearly.  (At least I can understand him)  This morning he was saying something to [G]rammy and she could not make out what it was.  She asked me to "translate".  I said, "Oh, he's saying Syndrome is a bad guy with the omnidroid".  She looked at me and laughed because that's exactly what it sounded like, she just didn't know who Syndrome was and what in the world an omnidroid was.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gee, I thought everyone, not just children, knew that Syndrome was the bad guy from "The Incredibles" movie and that he created an omnidroid to try to take over the world!  Come on, Grammy! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be fair, I can understand why she couldn't understand him.  He just said it out of the clear blue.  He wasn't playing with anything to indicate this statement.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13024378-111928238987440552?l=bubbablogiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/feeds/111928238987440552/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13024378&amp;postID=111928238987440552&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/111928238987440552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/111928238987440552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/2005/06/syndrome.html' title='Syndrome'/><author><name>Abby Cannon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16042040234139716587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13024378.post-111863100490213769</id><published>2005-06-12T21:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-12T21:50:04.906-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Colander</title><content type='html'>I decided that I was in an organizing mood.  So, I started to clean out all the cabinets in the kitchen.  I pulled everything out and had it all over the kitchen floor.  Bubba came in as curious as ever, to see what all the banging was.  I wasn't paying attention to him and then all of a sudden I heard him breathing really heavy.  I looked over at him and saw the metal colander on his face.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said, "what are you doing?"  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said, "I Darth Bader, Mama".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13024378-111863100490213769?l=bubbablogiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/feeds/111863100490213769/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13024378&amp;postID=111863100490213769&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/111863100490213769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/111863100490213769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/2005/06/colander.html' title='The Colander'/><author><name>Abby Cannon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16042040234139716587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13024378.post-111845004660245250</id><published>2005-06-10T19:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-10T19:34:06.606-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Star Wars!</title><content type='html'>One of Bubba's favorite things to ask me is, "Can I have a snat (snack), mama?"  Well, we were fresh out of his favorite...fruit snacks, and so I was looking in the pantry to see what else I could give him.  I saw a thing of Starburst and thought that he might like one of those.  So I said, "Do you want a Starburst, honey?"  His face lit up and he said "Star Wars, yea!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13024378-111845004660245250?l=bubbablogiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/feeds/111845004660245250/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13024378&amp;postID=111845004660245250&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/111845004660245250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/111845004660245250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/2005/06/star-wars.html' title='Star Wars!'/><author><name>Abby Cannon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16042040234139716587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13024378.post-111844054566778858</id><published>2005-06-10T16:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-12T21:52:01.183-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Spidey Stance</title><content type='html'>Each Sunday morning when we go to church, Jack goes to his "class" after about 45 minutes of praise and worship with the congregation.  He loves it in there, even though it includes babies who are about 5 months all the way up to kids his age (2).  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Sometimes the people that cheerfully and willingly serve in the class get confused and wonder if he's one of the helpers.)  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, last Sunday he was having a great time just playing with this one new toy he found.  Out of the blue a kid comes up to him and rips it out of his hand.  Without batting an eye, he went into the "Spidey Stance".  He basically was in a sort of kung fu type of stance with his one arm stretched out in front of him and his hand in the spidey formation.  It's the sign for "I love you" in sign language.  The middle and ring finger are curled in and the other three are outstretched.  (For the uncultured)  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, I was a little embarrassed when the Nursery worker told me all about his "Spidey Stance" when I went to pick him up.  I was just glad he didn't follow through with any violent actions.  :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13024378-111844054566778858?l=bubbablogiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/feeds/111844054566778858/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13024378&amp;postID=111844054566778858&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/111844054566778858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/111844054566778858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/2005/06/spidey-stance.html' title='The Spidey Stance'/><author><name>Abby Cannon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16042040234139716587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13024378.post-111843942431120937</id><published>2005-06-10T16:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-07-18T10:43:58.763-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It's bright out here!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8150/1128/1600/picsgs.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8150/1128/320/picsgs.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've had the privilige of living with Grammy and Papu for the past few months.  Bubba loves to take walks around their large cul-de-sac.  A few days ago him and Rammy (when he says it, the "G" is silent) went for a walk with Grammy's little fluffy, white puppy, Sophie.  After spending most of the day indoors, the sunshine was definitely a shocker to his little 2 year old eyes.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After about a minute or two of bearing with the brightness, he thought to himself, " I gotta do something about this annoying feeling".  He finally figured out a solution and said, "Rammy, I need my sunglasses!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He thinks through things a bit too much, I think.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13024378-111843942431120937?l=bubbablogiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/feeds/111843942431120937/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13024378&amp;postID=111843942431120937&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/111843942431120937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/111843942431120937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/2005/06/its-bright-out-here.html' title='It&apos;s bright out here!'/><author><name>Abby Cannon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16042040234139716587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13024378.post-111802316118818669</id><published>2005-06-05T20:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-05T20:59:21.190-05:00</updated><title type='text'>"Doctor Octopus, Mom!"</title><content type='html'>Bubba loves his puzzles.  We have one that has all these different "animals of the sea".  He was naming all the different ones as he was doing it.  First he did the seahorse, then the goldfish, then the crab, then the starfish, and then when he grabbed the octopus, he said so proudly, "Doctor Octopus, Mom!"  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those of you who don't know who Doctor Octopus is, just watch Spider Man 2 and you'll realize that he is the villain.  Jack has never seen the movie, but of course he knows who "Doc Ock" is.  :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13024378-111802316118818669?l=bubbablogiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/feeds/111802316118818669/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13024378&amp;postID=111802316118818669&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/111802316118818669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/111802316118818669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/2005/06/doctor-octopus-mom.html' title='&quot;Doctor Octopus, Mom!&quot;'/><author><name>Abby Cannon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16042040234139716587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13024378.post-111746556200983131</id><published>2005-05-30T09:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-05-30T10:06:02.013-05:00</updated><title type='text'>"Bless You, Baby Girl!"</title><content type='html'>Bubba either calls his baby sister "baby girl" or "baby Charli".  I think he thinks that the "baby" part is actually part of her name.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, the other day she coughed and tooted at the same time.  (She's still trying to figure out how to control all her bodily functions at once) Jack was in the middle of playing with his action figures and overheard the 2 noises from across the room.   And without looking up or even pausing in his actions, he said, "Bless you, baby girl!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're still trying to teach him which polite responses go with which bodily functions.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13024378-111746556200983131?l=bubbablogiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/feeds/111746556200983131/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13024378&amp;postID=111746556200983131&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/111746556200983131'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/111746556200983131'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/2005/05/bless-you-baby-girl.html' title='&quot;Bless You, Baby Girl!&quot;'/><author><name>Abby Cannon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16042040234139716587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13024378.post-111746041964888928</id><published>2005-05-30T08:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-05-30T08:47:50.440-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Baby Charli's Dip</title><content type='html'>Bubba loves to have ranch dressing with his cucumbers and green beans.  He callls it "DIP".  He came over to me while I was "burping" baby Charli after her feeding.  He looked at her and saw a little bit of spit up on her lip.  With excitement in his voice he exclaimed, "Baby Charli's Dip, Mama!"  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yea, Bubba!"  (My standard response)  I'm just glad he didn't put his green bean in it!  :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13024378-111746041964888928?l=bubbablogiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/feeds/111746041964888928/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13024378&amp;postID=111746041964888928&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/111746041964888928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/111746041964888928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/2005/05/baby-charlis-dip.html' title='Baby Charli&apos;s Dip'/><author><name>Abby Cannon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16042040234139716587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13024378.post-111712969976555792</id><published>2005-05-26T12:36:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-05-26T12:49:34.850-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Batman!</title><content type='html'>Bubba is very in to his action figures.  His favorite is Spiderman, but Batman is definitely a close 2nd.  While he was in the car with Meemaw, he kept saying, "It's Batman!  Batman, Meemaw!"  My mom was thinking, "Sure, Batman is really out here on the street somewhere!"  Then she looked and saw a big yellow sign with 2 black arrows pointing in either direction.  Then she realized what he meant and said, "Oh yea, Bubba, that is Batman"!  Of course, for you slower individuals, it really wasn't batman, but it sure looked like his symbol.  :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13024378-111712969976555792?l=bubbablogiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/feeds/111712969976555792/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13024378&amp;postID=111712969976555792&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/111712969976555792'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/111712969976555792'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/2005/05/its-batman.html' title='It&apos;s Batman!'/><author><name>Abby Cannon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16042040234139716587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13024378.post-111663684632415213</id><published>2005-05-20T19:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-05-24T08:33:22.930-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Gettin' Busy!</title><content type='html'>Bubba loves to say "I'm gettin' busy" after we spin him around in circles.  I think he means "I'm gettin' dizzy".  Just a guess.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13024378-111663684632415213?l=bubbablogiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/feeds/111663684632415213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13024378&amp;postID=111663684632415213&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/111663684632415213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/111663684632415213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/2005/05/gettin-busy.html' title='Gettin&apos; Busy!'/><author><name>Abby Cannon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16042040234139716587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13024378.post-111651279838177033</id><published>2005-05-19T09:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-05-19T09:26:51.860-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Peepaw!</title><content type='html'>If you've seen my dad (a.k.a. Peepaw), you know that he has wavy hair that comes to his collar.  (He's a musician)  Anyways, the other day, Bubba found a quarter and was studying it.  I was in the middle of something and not really paying attention.  Suddenly I heard him say, "Peepaw!"  as he was looking at it.  I looked over to see what he meant, and realized that Peepaw did look like George Washington in a wierd kind of way.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dad is a very attractive man, and would never be mistaken for G.W. in real life.  But I do think Bubba's perspective wasn't too off base!  He probably just thinks that of course it would have to be someone he knew on the quarter.  Who really knows?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13024378-111651279838177033?l=bubbablogiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/feeds/111651279838177033/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13024378&amp;postID=111651279838177033&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/111651279838177033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/111651279838177033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/2005/05/peepaw.html' title='Peepaw!'/><author><name>Abby Cannon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16042040234139716587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13024378.post-111651031347910824</id><published>2005-05-19T08:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-22T10:06:18.763-05:00</updated><title type='text'>"Ride da Horsey"</title><content type='html'>Bubba (Jack), my 2 year old, gives a running commentary throughout the day of what is going on in his little brain.  In many ways this is such a blessing.  His 3 month old baby sister was lying on her tummy, just "reading" her little book when I heard the words "I gonna ride da horsey"!  I looked over to see Bubba's leg lifted, ready to straddle her little body.  Of course I rushed over to her rescue, and gently told him that baby Charli is not a horsey, and definitely could not handle 32 pounds bouncing on top of her.  I then made sure he got his horsey ride...on Mommy, of course!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13024378-111651031347910824?l=bubbablogiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/feeds/111651031347910824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13024378&amp;postID=111651031347910824&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/111651031347910824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13024378/posts/default/111651031347910824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bubbablogiv.blogspot.com/2005/05/ride-da-horsey.html' title='&quot;Ride da Horsey&quot;'/><author><name>Abby Cannon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16042040234139716587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
