<?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-6448431087129135414</id><updated>2011-07-30T23:04:39.385-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bronwen Burr Todd</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbtodd.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6448431087129135414/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbtodd.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_316wJlHwPFw/SF_y2LRE7SI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/dUeja1fegmg/S220/2204972913_60b9b6bdf6.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>15</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6448431087129135414.post-1636328804608273907</id><published>2010-07-19T12:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-19T12:16:29.492-07:00</updated><title type='text'>MARSHMALLOWS!</title><content type='html'>I love going to the grocery store. Every time mom or dad talk about going I insist that I go along to help out.  I like to sit in the front of the cart surrounded by the food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am starting to know the names of every item in the store, especially the items I really want to eat, like cookies, ice cream, blueberries and seltzer. Sometimes I get a little confused though. Every time we drive by the white round fungus vegetable I always shout out, "MARSHMALLOWS!" Mom tells me they are called mushrooms, but I still call them marshmallows. It is more fun.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6448431087129135414-1636328804608273907?l=bbtodd.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbtodd.blogspot.com/feeds/1636328804608273907/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6448431087129135414&amp;postID=1636328804608273907' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6448431087129135414/posts/default/1636328804608273907'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6448431087129135414/posts/default/1636328804608273907'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbtodd.blogspot.com/2010/07/marshmallows.html' title='MARSHMALLOWS!'/><author><name>Ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_316wJlHwPFw/SF_y2LRE7SI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/dUeja1fegmg/S220/2204972913_60b9b6bdf6.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6448431087129135414.post-2380232129829031733</id><published>2009-02-17T17:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-17T17:56:46.931-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bye Bye, Paccie</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_316wJlHwPFw/SZtpoCaOe1I/AAAAAAAAAe0/FGTBlcXenpo/s1600-h/nopaccie.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303949122721446738" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 204px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 154px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_316wJlHwPFw/SZtpoCaOe1I/AAAAAAAAAe0/FGTBlcXenpo/s320/nopaccie.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Yesterday at bed-time I could not find my paccie. I was quite upset because I am used to falling asleep with it in my mouth. Actually, this is not always true. When I take naps at my day-care, I do not use my paccie. At home, though, I always use it, because Mommy and Daddy are soft and they always give it to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But yesterday I could not find it! I cried for a long time and I think I annoyed Piper who was trying to sleep above me (we have a brand new bunk bed!) Eventually I went to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today when I was playing in my room, I found my paccie hiding under the bed. I sucked on it for a while, then I got bored and threw it on the floor. At bed-time, I expected my paccie to be where I left it, but it was gone! I'm sure Daddy or Mommy didn't take it away, because they are so soft. I wonder what happened to it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I went to straight to sleep tonight without my paccie. Now that I have a new big-girl bunk bed, I have decided I don't need it any more. Bye bye, paccie!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6448431087129135414-2380232129829031733?l=bbtodd.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbtodd.blogspot.com/feeds/2380232129829031733/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6448431087129135414&amp;postID=2380232129829031733' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6448431087129135414/posts/default/2380232129829031733'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6448431087129135414/posts/default/2380232129829031733'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbtodd.blogspot.com/2009/02/bye-bye-paccie.html' title='Bye Bye, Paccie'/><author><name>Ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_316wJlHwPFw/SF_y2LRE7SI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/dUeja1fegmg/S220/2204972913_60b9b6bdf6.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_316wJlHwPFw/SZtpoCaOe1I/AAAAAAAAAe0/FGTBlcXenpo/s72-c/nopaccie.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6448431087129135414.post-2746889688010002340</id><published>2008-11-05T08:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-05T08:15:59.397-08:00</updated><title type='text'>No More Hole!</title><content type='html'>Today I went to the heart doctor.  I go to see him once a year because when I was born I had a little hole in my heart. He is really nice. Mommy thinks he's cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today they took a picture of my heart.  I got to watch Dora the Explorer while they smeared warm gooey stuff on my chest and put a camera on it.  I saw the inside of my heart beating on the TV screen.  It was cool. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the pictures, I met the doctor and he told us that we never have to see him again baecause the hole was gone. Mommy was really happy. I didn't get a bandaid when we left.  I was sad, but happy that I didn't get a shot.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6448431087129135414-2746889688010002340?l=bbtodd.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbtodd.blogspot.com/feeds/2746889688010002340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6448431087129135414&amp;postID=2746889688010002340' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6448431087129135414/posts/default/2746889688010002340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6448431087129135414/posts/default/2746889688010002340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbtodd.blogspot.com/2008/11/no-more-hole.html' title='No More Hole!'/><author><name>Ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_316wJlHwPFw/SF_y2LRE7SI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/dUeja1fegmg/S220/2204972913_60b9b6bdf6.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6448431087129135414.post-1013699184198471624</id><published>2008-11-03T10:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-03T10:04:48.417-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Halloween...and Candy!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_316wJlHwPFw/SQ89OtAanKI/AAAAAAAAAcU/AtBiFup05bY/s1600-h/Mouse.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_316wJlHwPFw/SQ89OtAanKI/AAAAAAAAAcU/AtBiFup05bY/s320/Mouse.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264493812228201634" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mommy, Daddy, Piper and I all went out to get candy on Friday night. My mom made me dress up in a mouse outfit. I know what a mouse says, "squeak, squeak!" Piper was a cat and tried to eat me. My mom kept telling me that we were going to get candy, but then she would take pictures and I was getting mad. Finally, I was ready to walk and so was everyone else and we went down the street to knock on peoples' doors. It was so cool. When you say "trick or treat" they give you candy! Lots of candy! We walked for hours and hours and got tons of candy. My mom will only let me eat a two pieces a day, but I have a secret bag of candy that I munch on when she isn't looking. I hope that we can get candy again next week!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6448431087129135414-1013699184198471624?l=bbtodd.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbtodd.blogspot.com/feeds/1013699184198471624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6448431087129135414&amp;postID=1013699184198471624' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6448431087129135414/posts/default/1013699184198471624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6448431087129135414/posts/default/1013699184198471624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbtodd.blogspot.com/2008/11/happy-halloweenand-candy.html' title='Happy Halloween...and Candy!'/><author><name>Ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_316wJlHwPFw/SF_y2LRE7SI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/dUeja1fegmg/S220/2204972913_60b9b6bdf6.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_316wJlHwPFw/SQ89OtAanKI/AAAAAAAAAcU/AtBiFup05bY/s72-c/Mouse.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6448431087129135414.post-7747383770070316520</id><published>2008-09-24T12:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-24T12:30:52.299-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Clothes, Shoes, and Mittens</title><content type='html'>My mom has started to let me dress myself.  She lays out a few options and I yell and scream until I get exactly what I want.  I am especially particular about my shoe selection. Grandma bought me the coolest pair of black leather maryjanes and I want to wear them everyday. I don't care what mom says, I want those shoes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I wanted to wear a pretty dress because Piper had one on.  I scream "pretty dress" until mom made dad go get one from the laundry room.  I love the dress that dad picked. It has a fake fur collar and goes perfectly with my maryjane shoes. Mom made me wear a sweater cause it was cold outside. And I got to wear my first pair of mittens.  I love these mittens. They have rubbery hearts on the palms so that I can grab things better.  I will want to wear these everyday. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we got to school my teacher made fun of the way I dress.  "Bronwen with her crazy outfits!" she said when we walked in the door.  I don't care what anyone says, I want to wear what I want to wear.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6448431087129135414-7747383770070316520?l=bbtodd.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbtodd.blogspot.com/feeds/7747383770070316520/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6448431087129135414&amp;postID=7747383770070316520' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6448431087129135414/posts/default/7747383770070316520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6448431087129135414/posts/default/7747383770070316520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbtodd.blogspot.com/2008/09/clothes-shoes-and-mittens.html' title='Clothes, Shoes, and Mittens'/><author><name>Ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_316wJlHwPFw/SF_y2LRE7SI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/dUeja1fegmg/S220/2204972913_60b9b6bdf6.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6448431087129135414.post-8708296796146795733</id><published>2008-09-16T11:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-16T11:32:02.193-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Been A Whole Year</title><content type='html'>I haven't written in  about a year and lots of things have changed.  I am talking, and I am two.  I have a new teacher named Sheila.  I love her so much. I also think that my sister Piper is the coolest thing since sliced bananas and cheerios.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom and dad spend lots of time with me at night and on the weekends.  We love to ride bikes ( I sit in the front seat) and play on the playground.  Last weekend we went to the art museum and the weekend before that the zoo.  I will post some videos soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love music and tap my feet whenever I hear it.  I also love puppies. I had the best Puppy Party ever and I talk about it almost every day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will try to better about writing more this year. I think that lots of interesting things are going to happen.  Maybe this winter we will have snow!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6448431087129135414-8708296796146795733?l=bbtodd.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbtodd.blogspot.com/feeds/8708296796146795733/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6448431087129135414&amp;postID=8708296796146795733' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6448431087129135414/posts/default/8708296796146795733'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6448431087129135414/posts/default/8708296796146795733'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbtodd.blogspot.com/2008/09/its-been-whole-year.html' title='It&apos;s Been A Whole Year'/><author><name>Ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_316wJlHwPFw/SF_y2LRE7SI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/dUeja1fegmg/S220/2204972913_60b9b6bdf6.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6448431087129135414.post-5799191192680560018</id><published>2007-09-25T19:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-25T19:33:54.367-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bertram Flap the Bat Makes a New Friend</title><content type='html'>Bertram Flap was a happy little bat.  He lived under the eaves of a well maintained garage in the back yard of a very nice family.  His particular eave was protected from the wind by layers of ivy on one side and a huge oak tree on the other side.  There was just enough space between the vines and the tree trunk to for Bertram Flap to squeeze out every evening to go on his search for bugs to eat for dinner. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This evening was particularly nice.  The winter cold was finally gone and the warmth of spring had settled in for good. The fruit trees around Bertram Flap’s garage were in full bloom.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“That is good!” thought Bertram Flap, “When there are flowers there are bugs!”  He flapped happily around the garden snatching up bugs and filling up his belly.  He was so preoccupied with his dinner that he didn’t even notice the little brown rat standing at the corner of the garage watching him.  And he especially didn’t notice how the little brown rat was sniffling a lot, like he was crying. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bertram Flap ate a few more bugs and discovered that his belly was completely full.  He decided to take a break and digest a little before heading back out for more.  As he swooped down over the yard and into the garage he was surprised to see the sandy brown rat standing at the corner of the garage, sniffling.  He immediately flew to the eave directly above the rat. Hanging upside down he introduced himself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Hi, I am Bertram Flap.  Who are you and why are you crying?” He asked looking straight up, which was actually straight down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“My name is Farnsworth,” he sniffed.  “I just came to live in this garage and I have never seen a rat fly like you.  Where did you get those wings?” He asked looking straight up, which was actually straight up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I’m not a rat!” laughed Bertram Flap as he let go of the eave and flopped to the ground in front of Farnsworth. “I am a bat!” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Farnsworth stared at the bat.  His head was a little different shape and his ears were different too.  But his furry body looked the same as Farnsworth’s.  But he had these big long fingers that had wings attached to them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Wow,” whispered Farnsworth, “Maybe I can be a bat some day too! Then I can fly all around the yard and catch bugs to eat!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Don’t be silly,” Bertram Flap laughed. “You are a rat and you will always be a rat.  I am a bat and will always be a bat.  That is how we were made.  But being a rat is a good thing!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“How can being a rat be good?” cried Farnsworth. “Rats can’t fly or anything cool like that.”  Tears started to flow down his little furry cheeks, slipping off his whiskers and onto the clover he was standing on. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bertram Flap looked stunned. “Of course there is more than just flying. And there are things you can do that I can’t do.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“There are?” Farnsworth sniffled again and hiccupped but stopped crying. “Like what?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Well, you can run really fast through the tall grass and dig holes to hide in, can’t you?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Well, I guess so, but that isn’t that great.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“You can use your paws to grab things, I can’t do that,” Bertram Flap flapped his wings trying to grab a little moth fluttering by. “See?” he said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Yeah, that’s true. And I can also climb up things and I can also swim!” Farnsworth was looking much happier now. “I guess being a rat is pretty cool.” and a little rat smile spread across his face. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“We should be friends,” Bertram Flap said happily, “and we can help each with the things we can’t do.  I will fly around and catch you bugs and you can dig holes for us to hide in.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“That’s a great idea,” clapped Farnsworth and he immediately started digging a great big hole in the corner of the garage for the two of them to hide in, and Bertram Flap flew back up into the sky to catch bugs for the two of  them to eat for dinner.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6448431087129135414-5799191192680560018?l=bbtodd.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbtodd.blogspot.com/feeds/5799191192680560018/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6448431087129135414&amp;postID=5799191192680560018' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6448431087129135414/posts/default/5799191192680560018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6448431087129135414/posts/default/5799191192680560018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbtodd.blogspot.com/2007/09/bertram-flap-bat-makes-new-friend.html' title='Bertram Flap the Bat Makes a New Friend'/><author><name>Ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_316wJlHwPFw/SF_y2LRE7SI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/dUeja1fegmg/S220/2204972913_60b9b6bdf6.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6448431087129135414.post-1267027137506796122</id><published>2007-08-22T05:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-22T05:44:03.654-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bronwen's First Bike Helmet</title><content type='html'>Daddy put on my brand new bicycle helmet last night.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Mommy&lt;/span&gt; says that she has a special seat that fits onto her bile, and I can sit in it and ride along.  I can't wait.  Mommy says that she is going to wait until Grandpa gets here tomorrow to help put the bike seat on, and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;then&lt;/span&gt; we are going to go for a ride.  I wonder where we will go?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6448431087129135414-1267027137506796122?l=bbtodd.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbtodd.blogspot.com/feeds/1267027137506796122/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6448431087129135414&amp;postID=1267027137506796122' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6448431087129135414/posts/default/1267027137506796122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6448431087129135414/posts/default/1267027137506796122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbtodd.blogspot.com/2007/08/bronwens-first-bike-helmet.html' title='Bronwen&apos;s First Bike Helmet'/><author><name>Ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_316wJlHwPFw/SF_y2LRE7SI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/dUeja1fegmg/S220/2204972913_60b9b6bdf6.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6448431087129135414.post-2943566130610595680</id><published>2007-08-15T16:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-15T16:59:07.161-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Older than I've Ever Been, and Now I'm Even Older...</title><content type='html'>My first birthday party was the best birthday party ever! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up first thing in the morning and mommy and daddy let me open a giant present. It was all in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;pieces&lt;/span&gt;, but daddy got excited and put the whole thing together (with some help from mommy.)  It was a walker. And when I get bigger, it turns into a little rider so I can push around the house.  Right now I am practicing walking behind it.  I am getting pretty goo too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The party was full of people.  Sunshine and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Cavin&lt;/span&gt; came to visit from DC and all of my best buds from Greensboro were there too! I missed all my aunties and uncles and grandparents who couldn't make it, but there were still tons of presents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daddy decorated the back yard with tents!  It was really, really hot. Just like the real &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Bonnaroo&lt;/span&gt;. But &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Samapalooza&lt;/span&gt; had a pool so the bigger kids were swimming in that all day.  The grownups were cooking everything from hot dogs and veggie burgers to squid and chicken from the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;carniceria&lt;/span&gt;.  I wasn't that hungry.  There was too much to do besides eat.  Daddy had set up a stage with guitars, a keyboard, microphone, maracas, harmonica, and a baby xylophone for me to play.  Piper sang me a song about being a baby.  It was great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I opened my presents but then I got to eat cake! Sam and I each got a giant cupcake and mom let me eat the whole thing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I started to get tired.  I played with my auntie Chris and Auntie Aimee, but then I had to go to bed.  I dreamed about giant cupcakes and presents all night long.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6448431087129135414-2943566130610595680?l=bbtodd.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbtodd.blogspot.com/feeds/2943566130610595680/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6448431087129135414&amp;postID=2943566130610595680' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6448431087129135414/posts/default/2943566130610595680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6448431087129135414/posts/default/2943566130610595680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbtodd.blogspot.com/2007/08/im-older-than-ive-ever-been-and-now-im.html' title='I&apos;m Older than I&apos;ve Ever Been, and Now I&apos;m Even Older...'/><author><name>Ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_316wJlHwPFw/SF_y2LRE7SI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/dUeja1fegmg/S220/2204972913_60b9b6bdf6.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6448431087129135414.post-1201239571242362395</id><published>2007-07-25T05:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-25T06:04:06.804-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I am almost 1 year old!</title><content type='html'>Mommy and Daddy are throwing me a huge first birthday party. I don't even know what a birthday party is, but everyone seems excited, so it must be great. They said we are going to combine my party with Sam's (he is the baby next door). Daddy said we are going to have a festival, with an outdoor movie, tents, music, food and something called stump. But he said that the stump will not come out until I go to bed. Oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daddy designed the best invitations. Mommy is handing them out to everyone she knows. If you are reading this and you want to come to the party, show up. It should be fun!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6448431087129135414-1201239571242362395?l=bbtodd.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbtodd.blogspot.com/feeds/1201239571242362395/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6448431087129135414&amp;postID=1201239571242362395' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6448431087129135414/posts/default/1201239571242362395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6448431087129135414/posts/default/1201239571242362395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbtodd.blogspot.com/2007/07/i-am-alomst-1-year-old.html' title='I am almost 1 year old!'/><author><name>Ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_316wJlHwPFw/SF_y2LRE7SI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/dUeja1fegmg/S220/2204972913_60b9b6bdf6.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6448431087129135414.post-340411509345161889</id><published>2007-06-22T18:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-22T19:05:29.048-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bronnaroo!  [part 1]</title><content type='html'>Mommy and Daddy took me to &lt;a href="http://www.bonnaroo.com/"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Bonnaroo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;.  What were they thinking!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The trip down there was easy.  I was asleep before we left Greensboro.  I woke up in  a wonderful, new place!  It was a motel in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Chattanooga&lt;/span&gt;, and the time was 1:30 in the morning.  For some reason, M&amp;D wanted to go to sleep around then, but I was much too excited, so I wouldn't let them.  I just had to look around and investigate the two beds, the TV, the mirror, the ugly carpet, the trashcan and the nondescript watercolors on the walls.  A motel!  In all my 10 months, I had never seen such a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;fascinating&lt;/span&gt; place!  Still, after about an hour, I settled down - I figured it was best to let the old people get at least 4 hours sleep before we started off again in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next time I woke up we were in the car, waiting in line.  It was boring, so I went back to sleep again for a few hours.  Funnily enough, when I woke up we were &lt;em&gt;still&lt;/em&gt; in the car, and still waiting in line!  So I went to sleep again.  I woke up, and nothing much had changed.  This festival stuff appeared to consist mostly of sitting in the car, waiting.  I was not impressed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eventually, we arrived at our designated parking spot.  M&amp;D (sporting shiny new red bracelets) unpacked a few essentials (including me in the &lt;a href="http://www.kelty.com/kelty/kids.php?type=&amp;amp;cat=48&amp;id=182"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Kelty&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;) and we headed off to the camping area.  Their 'essentials' turned out not to include everything we needed -  they had forgotten to bring diapers, wipes, food or fresh water - but thank goodness, they did bring the shade canopy, so Mommy and I had a pleasant place to wait while Daddy went back to the car for another load.  A nice man from the camp next door gave Mommy and me some water to drink while we were waiting, and after Mommy removed my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;poopy&lt;/span&gt; diaper I was quite happy rolling around on the blanket naked until Daddy got back.  He looked a bit exhausted, but he had brought a ton of stuff including diapers, water and a big cooler full of beer, so everyone was happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.bonnaroo.com/"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then our friends showed up.  I had never met Kym, Jared or Evan before, but from the first I could tell they were great people.  They gave me lots of attention, and Kym brought me a present of some nice new clothes.  We set up the tents and got to know our neighbors.  It was starting to look like a fun weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am tired and sleepy now.  Will blog the rest later.  Meanwhile - here are &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/sudokugirl/sets/72157600418637554/"&gt;photos&lt;/a&gt; of the trip.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6448431087129135414-340411509345161889?l=bbtodd.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbtodd.blogspot.com/feeds/340411509345161889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6448431087129135414&amp;postID=340411509345161889' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6448431087129135414/posts/default/340411509345161889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6448431087129135414/posts/default/340411509345161889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbtodd.blogspot.com/2007/06/bronnaroo-part-1.html' title='Bronnaroo!  [part 1]'/><author><name>Ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_316wJlHwPFw/SF_y2LRE7SI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/dUeja1fegmg/S220/2204972913_60b9b6bdf6.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6448431087129135414.post-3060187246442783128</id><published>2007-05-11T20:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-11T20:57:45.693-07:00</updated><title type='text'>9 Month Update</title><content type='html'>I have now officially spent more time outside of mommy than in. Daddy took me to my 9 month doctor's checkup. I weigh 18 pounds, 8.5 ounces and am 27 inches long! (I also got a couple of shots from the mean nurse. as always, though, I was very brave and only cried for about two minutes.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have graduated to the toddler room at daycare! now instead of being the oldest baby in the room, I am one of the youngest. It's fun, though, hanging out with the big kids. I've been watching them, and I'm planning to start walking real soon (I've been practicing standing and getting my balance, and I'm very good at it).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also have two new teeth! now I have 4 on the top and 2 on the bottom. my bottom incisors came in first, then my top canines, and now my top incisors are there too. the new teeth hurt for a day or two when they were coming in - fortunately, Grandma was there to see me through. I was visiting Grandma and Auntie TT in Kentucky. I slept in a dresser drawer - such fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_316wJlHwPFw/RkU3aijTYCI/AAAAAAAAAAg/lu6BRdtAdXE/s1600-h/bbmay+040.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5063514285138993186" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_316wJlHwPFw/RkU3aijTYCI/AAAAAAAAAAg/lu6BRdtAdXE/s320/bbmay+040.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, I have started eating the same food that Mommy and Daddy eat (I can also say 'Mommy' and 'Daddy' - sort of - but I'm not sure what they mean yet). Yesterday for dinner I had special fried rice, and today fish and green peas. I don't even need a fork! see:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ryPt5cDfKL0"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ryPt5cDfKL0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6448431087129135414-3060187246442783128?l=bbtodd.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbtodd.blogspot.com/feeds/3060187246442783128/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6448431087129135414&amp;postID=3060187246442783128' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6448431087129135414/posts/default/3060187246442783128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6448431087129135414/posts/default/3060187246442783128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbtodd.blogspot.com/2007/05/9-month-update.html' title='9 Month Update'/><author><name>Ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_316wJlHwPFw/SF_y2LRE7SI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/dUeja1fegmg/S220/2204972913_60b9b6bdf6.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_316wJlHwPFw/RkU3aijTYCI/AAAAAAAAAAg/lu6BRdtAdXE/s72-c/bbmay+040.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6448431087129135414.post-7937310359428521483</id><published>2007-03-30T11:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-30T14:33:26.050-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Another trip to the zoo</title><content type='html'>Mom and Dad took Piper and me to the zoo on Sunday. We had a great time. It was really hot and there were so many people we had to wait in line sometimes. The best thing we saw was the polar bears. Last time we went to the zoo, the polar bears were so lazy. All they did was lie around all day long. This time one of the bears was swimming all around the big pool. We stood right next to the glass and the polar bear put his giant paw right on the window. It was scary. But it was fun too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was so hot we stopped to rest under some roofs and piper got to eat ice cream. Mom says I am too young for that. And I drank out of a water bottle for the first time. It was cold water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We saw meerkats too, and baboons, and giraffes, and zebras. It was a great day. Then we got to ride on a giant Zebra bus back to our car. I was really hungry and tired, but mommy forgot to bring my bottle so I had to wait until I got home. I was not happy. But then when we got home I got a big bottle and went to sleep.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6448431087129135414-7937310359428521483?l=bbtodd.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbtodd.blogspot.com/feeds/7937310359428521483/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6448431087129135414&amp;postID=7937310359428521483' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6448431087129135414/posts/default/7937310359428521483'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6448431087129135414/posts/default/7937310359428521483'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbtodd.blogspot.com/2007/03/another-trip-to-zoo.html' title='Another trip to the zoo'/><author><name>Ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_316wJlHwPFw/SF_y2LRE7SI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/dUeja1fegmg/S220/2204972913_60b9b6bdf6.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6448431087129135414.post-5578300135194985293</id><published>2007-03-19T09:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-19T06:38:15.682-07:00</updated><title type='text'>St Patty's Day</title><content type='html'>Mom and Dad took me for a &lt;u&gt;long&lt;/u&gt; walk today.  But I got to sit up in the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;backpack&lt;/span&gt;, so it wasn't too bad.  I took a short nap in the middle of the walk and when I woke up we were surrounded by people dressed in green.  There was a clown making animals out of long balloons, and I got a string of shiny green beads.  Mom and dad drank their favorite drinks and we sat on the patio.  It was kind of cold, but I was bundled up in a blanket.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;auntie&lt;/span&gt; Chris came to visit us.  I like her.  She is always holding me and kissing my cheeks.  We drove in her car to another place and we ate lunch. I was hungry and I ate my whole lunch (I think it was squash with apples. Yummy!)  Then we drove back to the party where everyone was dressed in green. There we really tall people walking around and a band, and girls dancing in pretty costumes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was getting sleepy so auntie Chris drove us all home and I had dinner and went to bed. Today I am cranky because my mouth hurts.  Mom says it's because I have more teeth coming in.  How many of those things does a person need? It hurts! And I never use the two I've got anyway.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6448431087129135414-5578300135194985293?l=bbtodd.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbtodd.blogspot.com/feeds/5578300135194985293/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6448431087129135414&amp;postID=5578300135194985293' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6448431087129135414/posts/default/5578300135194985293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6448431087129135414/posts/default/5578300135194985293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbtodd.blogspot.com/2007/03/st-pattys-day.html' title='St Patty&apos;s Day'/><author><name>Ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_316wJlHwPFw/SF_y2LRE7SI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/dUeja1fegmg/S220/2204972913_60b9b6bdf6.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6448431087129135414.post-5565663262035337993</id><published>2007-03-14T12:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-14T09:57:45.132-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Trip to Fat Dogs</title><content type='html'>Last night mom and dad took me for a ride in the stroller.  I like to look around at the houses, dogs and cars passing by as we walk down the street.  We walked for awhile and then we stopped at a place with tables and chairs out front.  Dad left for a few minutes and returned with tall glasses of mom and dad's favorite drink.  Mom gave me a toy to play with, it was yellow and flat.  I just chewed on it because my teeth were hurting me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad and mom played with cards and then dad gave me a bottle. It made me very sleepy so I went to sleep.  I woke up and I was in my crib.  It was a fun night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6448431087129135414-5565663262035337993?l=bbtodd.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbtodd.blogspot.com/feeds/5565663262035337993/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6448431087129135414&amp;postID=5565663262035337993' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6448431087129135414/posts/default/5565663262035337993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6448431087129135414/posts/default/5565663262035337993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbtodd.blogspot.com/2007/03/trip-to-fat-dogs.html' title='Trip to Fat Dogs'/><author><name>Ellie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_316wJlHwPFw/SF_y2LRE7SI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/dUeja1fegmg/S220/2204972913_60b9b6bdf6.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
