<?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-6452541586166535945</id><updated>2012-02-16T02:03:22.108-08:00</updated><category term='owl'/><category term='boyfriend guns grave headstones'/><category term='exercise'/><category term='gymnastics'/><category term='drawing'/><category term='daughter'/><category term='love'/><category term='hair'/><category term='togetherness'/><category term='hand stand'/><title type='text'>My Daughter Can Out-Talk Your Daughter</title><subtitle type='html'>Sometimes it is just best to sit down and listen.  Or, not.  No one will notice.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kennedycomplex.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6452541586166535945/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kennedycomplex.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>kennedycomplex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18077543061046938846</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>19</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6452541586166535945.post-1568191388172888850</id><published>2009-08-27T17:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-27T18:01:52.364-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cats and Dogs</title><content type='html'>So, I told Ashlyn that really old joke about raining cats and dogs.  You know... the one that goes, "What do you have to watch out for when it is raining cats and dogs?"  Ashlyn had no idea what the answer might be, so I answered up, "Stepping in poodles!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She thought about it for a second and said, "Not poodles! You have to watch out for chihuahuas!  They're much meaner!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6452541586166535945-1568191388172888850?l=kennedycomplex.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kennedycomplex.blogspot.com/feeds/1568191388172888850/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6452541586166535945&amp;postID=1568191388172888850' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6452541586166535945/posts/default/1568191388172888850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6452541586166535945/posts/default/1568191388172888850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kennedycomplex.blogspot.com/2009/08/cats-and-dogs.html' title='Cats and Dogs'/><author><name>kennedycomplex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18077543061046938846</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-6452541586166535945.post-1596988409014275573</id><published>2009-08-20T19:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-20T19:30:54.180-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cheetos</title><content type='html'>After Emily and Ashlyn finished playing some buried treasure game on the computer, Ashlyn had this to say:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You are gonna tell your dear friends at work that you were eaten by a Cheeto, and they are gonna say 'AHHHH! IT'S THE SPIRIT OF EMILY, and run out of the building!'"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6452541586166535945-1596988409014275573?l=kennedycomplex.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kennedycomplex.blogspot.com/feeds/1596988409014275573/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6452541586166535945&amp;postID=1596988409014275573' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6452541586166535945/posts/default/1596988409014275573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6452541586166535945/posts/default/1596988409014275573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kennedycomplex.blogspot.com/2009/08/cheetos.html' title='Cheetos'/><author><name>kennedycomplex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18077543061046938846</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-6452541586166535945.post-8242316544539125563</id><published>2009-03-28T20:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-28T20:41:10.427-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Old Brains</title><content type='html'>We were on our way home from Walmart (I think that is where we were coming from...) when we came across a car that was halfway into a left turn at the intersection crossing the freeway.  They decided to go without the arrow, and sorta got stuck waiting on all the traffic to go through.  I slowed to a stop waiting for the guy to get out of the way, when Ashlyn inrmed us from the back seat, "I know why they are not good drivers.  It is because they are old people.  Their brains are old." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My thoughts exactly.  At least I think they are my thoughts.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6452541586166535945-8242316544539125563?l=kennedycomplex.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kennedycomplex.blogspot.com/feeds/8242316544539125563/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6452541586166535945&amp;postID=8242316544539125563' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6452541586166535945/posts/default/8242316544539125563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6452541586166535945/posts/default/8242316544539125563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kennedycomplex.blogspot.com/2009/03/old-brains.html' title='Old Brains'/><author><name>kennedycomplex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18077543061046938846</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-6452541586166535945.post-8876455276160828503</id><published>2009-01-21T20:57:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T21:25:21.902-08:00</updated><title type='text'>So, this has nothing to do with my daughter...</title><content type='html'>So.. I have had to spend roughly $1,000 on my car over the past month or so to get some old bugs worked out, get the horn replaced, and get the clutch replaced.  Needed to get all this lined out so I could FINALLY get the thing inspected after being out since November.  I have decided, right before Christmas is a crappy time to have to get a car inspected because if you do have to get something fixed first, you have NO MONEY thanks to Christmas.  Anyways.  So, I went to get it inspected and FAILED because the damn high beam lamp on the passenger side decided to, at that particular moment, STOP WORKING.  I ran to Walmart and bought a new one, plugged it in, NOTHING.  Took it back to the shop and they had to track down what was wrong with the electrical system.  Got that fixed yesterday.  This evening we had to go see my wife's grandfather, so I couldn't take it back to get it inspected, and on the drive home (on highway 19 just outside of Crockett) we hit a poor "garbage bag" (ie: Labrador retriever) going about 65 and there goes my front bumper, inner wheel well, right turn indicator, license plate, radiator, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I blame George W. Bush.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Update: Well, I found out that my insurance will cover all the costs to fix this and won't total my poor old car out.  We just have to pay the $200 deductible, which ends up not being as bad as we thought that was going to be either.  I wish I could get the entire car repainted, but I bet they will just match the color up as best they can.  Oh well.  Maybe I should think about selling the thing after this and see if I can get a deal of the century on a new car?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6452541586166535945-8876455276160828503?l=kennedycomplex.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kennedycomplex.blogspot.com/feeds/8876455276160828503/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6452541586166535945&amp;postID=8876455276160828503' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6452541586166535945/posts/default/8876455276160828503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6452541586166535945/posts/default/8876455276160828503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kennedycomplex.blogspot.com/2009/01/so-this-has-nothing-to-do-with-my.html' title='So, this has nothing to do with my daughter...'/><author><name>kennedycomplex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18077543061046938846</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-6452541586166535945.post-5562106563093125205</id><published>2008-12-20T22:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-20T22:59:07.572-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It Tickles!</title><content type='html'>I was stumbling around the internet using StumbleUpon when Ashlyn comes up to me with Emily's back massager that we got the other night because Emily has this chronic pain in a muscle that is right below her right shoulderblade (I also like it because it works very well for my bad shoulders). She has it bouncing off her head at low speed and is giggling.  I kinda roll my eyes at her and chuckle inwardly to myself.  A few minutes later, she is talking with it on her throat and laughing at the sillyness of her vibrating voice.  I again chuckle inwardly to myself and carry on with my browsing.  A few minutes after that, she is just giggling so I turn to see what is so funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sure you guessed where this was going to end up from the beginning, but there stood my five year old daughter looking like a character right out of Harry Potter astride her new Nimbus 2000 giggling uncontrollably.  "It tickles!" she announced with glee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With a palm planted against my forehead, I sent her off to show momma.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6452541586166535945-5562106563093125205?l=kennedycomplex.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kennedycomplex.blogspot.com/feeds/5562106563093125205/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6452541586166535945&amp;postID=5562106563093125205' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6452541586166535945/posts/default/5562106563093125205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6452541586166535945/posts/default/5562106563093125205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kennedycomplex.blogspot.com/2008/12/it-tickles.html' title='It Tickles!'/><author><name>kennedycomplex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18077543061046938846</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-6452541586166535945.post-4776975084095176728</id><published>2008-11-18T22:08:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-18T22:08:25.527-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Little Friend</title><content type='html'>&lt;script type="text/javascript" src="http://widgets.clearspring.com/o/4921d1bbde64b665/4923ad57b7c3d6c4/4921d1bb3e918a58/f0c641b4/widget.js"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6452541586166535945-4776975084095176728?l=kennedycomplex.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kennedycomplex.blogspot.com/feeds/4776975084095176728/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6452541586166535945&amp;postID=4776975084095176728' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6452541586166535945/posts/default/4776975084095176728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6452541586166535945/posts/default/4776975084095176728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kennedycomplex.blogspot.com/2008/11/little-friend.html' title='A Little Friend'/><author><name>kennedycomplex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18077543061046938846</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-6452541586166535945.post-2206209557507783993</id><published>2008-11-18T19:10:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-18T19:10:19.507-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hair'/><title type='text'>Hair Products</title><content type='html'>So, I was standing at the bathroom door waiting to take a hand load of hair bows and other girlie things in, when I heard Ashlyn exclaim, "It's like this thing is having a baby or something!  It won't come out!  Sheesh!" in response to Emily asking her if she had finished washing her hair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently conditioner is not very cooperative.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6452541586166535945-2206209557507783993?l=kennedycomplex.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kennedycomplex.blogspot.com/feeds/2206209557507783993/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6452541586166535945&amp;postID=2206209557507783993' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6452541586166535945/posts/default/2206209557507783993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6452541586166535945/posts/default/2206209557507783993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kennedycomplex.blogspot.com/2008/11/hair-products.html' title='Hair Products'/><author><name>kennedycomplex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18077543061046938846</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-6452541586166535945.post-3876710361164601082</id><published>2008-11-08T21:01:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-08T21:08:15.348-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='daughter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='drawing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='owl'/><title type='text'>Owl</title><content type='html'>Man.. I was so upset.  We walked out of Walmart and there was an owl in a tree.  It was just sitting up there looking at all of us silly humans walking in and out of the store, and scaring the local Grackles into such a frenzy I was worried about bird poop bombardments.  Of course!  The one time I didn't have my camera was the one time when I could REALLY have used it.  Sheesh.  Well, we drove home, I ran inside and grabbed the camera, then ran back to Walmart (alone of course), but the little guy was long gone.  Great.  So I drove back home.  Walked in the front door and Ashlyn asked if I got a picture of the owl.  Nope.  She handed me the following:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3220/3014079409_9d7f9217b3.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a great daughter.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6452541586166535945-3876710361164601082?l=kennedycomplex.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kennedycomplex.blogspot.com/feeds/3876710361164601082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6452541586166535945&amp;postID=3876710361164601082' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6452541586166535945/posts/default/3876710361164601082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6452541586166535945/posts/default/3876710361164601082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kennedycomplex.blogspot.com/2008/11/owl.html' title='Owl'/><author><name>kennedycomplex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18077543061046938846</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://farm4.static.flickr.com/3220/3014079409_9d7f9217b3_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6452541586166535945.post-4027620219700720299</id><published>2008-10-20T17:04:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-21T05:42:07.375-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='boyfriend guns grave headstones'/><title type='text'>And so it begins...</title><content type='html'>Today Ashlyn, (who is only 5) asked, "What's a boyfriend?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, I almost choked and laughed all at the same time.  Emily explained in a very generic and broad manner as to what a boyfriend was, and finally summed it all up with, "You're too young to be thinking about a boyfriend."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ashlyn's response, "Well... I'm thinking about it!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6452541586166535945-4027620219700720299?l=kennedycomplex.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kennedycomplex.blogspot.com/feeds/4027620219700720299/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6452541586166535945&amp;postID=4027620219700720299' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6452541586166535945/posts/default/4027620219700720299'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6452541586166535945/posts/default/4027620219700720299'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kennedycomplex.blogspot.com/2008/10/and-so-it-begins.html' title='And so it begins...'/><author><name>kennedycomplex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18077543061046938846</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-6452541586166535945.post-2212116359538919208</id><published>2008-10-15T21:28:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-15T21:28:15.650-07:00</updated><title type='text'>All Tied Up</title><content type='html'>Well, tonight was a big night.  Ashlyn has learned how to tie her shoes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6452541586166535945-2212116359538919208?l=kennedycomplex.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kennedycomplex.blogspot.com/feeds/2212116359538919208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6452541586166535945&amp;postID=2212116359538919208' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6452541586166535945/posts/default/2212116359538919208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6452541586166535945/posts/default/2212116359538919208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kennedycomplex.blogspot.com/2008/10/all-tied-up.html' title='All Tied Up'/><author><name>kennedycomplex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18077543061046938846</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-6452541586166535945.post-7306903195617723517</id><published>2008-10-08T20:19:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T20:19:39.413-07:00</updated><title type='text'>There's Something Under the Bed!</title><content type='html'>Ok, side note so this will make sense.  I have to have the head of our bed raised a little because of my occasional bouts of acid reflux when I am sleeping.  It is sitting on two 3"x4" blocks and is raised about 3" off the floor.  Not very much, but it does seem to help and doesn't seem to bother Emily.  Plus we don't end up sliding off the end of the bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ashlyn was in our room on our bed tonight watching a movie and drawing when she shouted for us to come in there.  I opened the door and asked what was wrong.  She said, "I think there is a mouse under the bed because it just dropped down!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6452541586166535945-7306903195617723517?l=kennedycomplex.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kennedycomplex.blogspot.com/feeds/7306903195617723517/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6452541586166535945&amp;postID=7306903195617723517' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6452541586166535945/posts/default/7306903195617723517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6452541586166535945/posts/default/7306903195617723517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kennedycomplex.blogspot.com/2008/10/there-something-under-bed.html' title='There&amp;#39;s Something Under the Bed!'/><author><name>kennedycomplex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18077543061046938846</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-6452541586166535945.post-256268822543081672</id><published>2008-09-10T19:34:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-10T19:34:22.995-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tummy Rumblings...</title><content type='html'>"My tummy isn't hungry for junk food anymore.  It wants dessert!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6452541586166535945-256268822543081672?l=kennedycomplex.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kennedycomplex.blogspot.com/feeds/256268822543081672/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6452541586166535945&amp;postID=256268822543081672' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6452541586166535945/posts/default/256268822543081672'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6452541586166535945/posts/default/256268822543081672'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kennedycomplex.blogspot.com/2008/09/tummy-rumblings.html' title='Tummy Rumblings...'/><author><name>kennedycomplex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18077543061046938846</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-6452541586166535945.post-8264653794236403134</id><published>2008-09-08T16:46:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T16:46:16.060-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Once Upon a Time</title><content type='html'>Ashlyn asked if she could tell us a little story this evening.  This is how it went.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Once upon a time, me and Nammy (my mother), were feeding Whisper (a neighbor's dog) some Cheetos.  First Nammy gave him some, then I gave him a bunch.  Then he threw up on her porch."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6452541586166535945-8264653794236403134?l=kennedycomplex.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kennedycomplex.blogspot.com/feeds/8264653794236403134/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6452541586166535945&amp;postID=8264653794236403134' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6452541586166535945/posts/default/8264653794236403134'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6452541586166535945/posts/default/8264653794236403134'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kennedycomplex.blogspot.com/2008/09/once-upon-time.html' title='Once Upon a Time'/><author><name>kennedycomplex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18077543061046938846</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-6452541586166535945.post-8207784653989253170</id><published>2008-08-17T01:47:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-17T01:47:44.140-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Music Anyone?</title><content type='html'>We were walking into the store today and someone was driving around in the parking lot with their music cranked up as loud as they could get it.  Ashlyn said, "I guess they want the whole city to hear their music."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6452541586166535945-8207784653989253170?l=kennedycomplex.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kennedycomplex.blogspot.com/feeds/8207784653989253170/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6452541586166535945&amp;postID=8207784653989253170' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6452541586166535945/posts/default/8207784653989253170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6452541586166535945/posts/default/8207784653989253170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kennedycomplex.blogspot.com/2008/08/music-anyone.html' title='Music Anyone?'/><author><name>kennedycomplex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18077543061046938846</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-6452541586166535945.post-2209749406642400462</id><published>2008-08-15T22:33:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-15T22:41:08.686-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gymnastics'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hand stand'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='exercise'/><title type='text'>Hand Stands...</title><content type='html'>I now know that I am getting old (or maybe just not in the shape I should be in).  Okay, so I already knew this, but it was confirmed tonight during an "exercise" routine with Ashlyn. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were doing all the easy stuff like jogging in place, jumping jacks, push-ups, etc, when she decided to show off her gymnastic skills and do some hand stands, which she is getting really good at by the way.  I made sure she wouldn't land real hard on her back for a while, and after she did about 100 of them, I said (for some strange reason), "Let me try one."  This must have been one of those times when my brain shuts down or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I stood up, leaned over and actually kicked my legs up into a pretty decent hand stand.  In the limbo period between having my feet in the totally wrong place (above my vertical body, and placing them back on the ground (where they are much better suited), I had this thought,  "What is this gonna feel like when I land?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, it HURTS.  Having 205+ pounds dropped onto your foot bent at a weird angle does not feel good AT ALL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least Ashlyn was nice enough to say, "Good job, Daddy!  That was a good hand stand!" as I hobbled out of the room.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6452541586166535945-2209749406642400462?l=kennedycomplex.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kennedycomplex.blogspot.com/feeds/2209749406642400462/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6452541586166535945&amp;postID=2209749406642400462' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6452541586166535945/posts/default/2209749406642400462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6452541586166535945/posts/default/2209749406642400462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kennedycomplex.blogspot.com/2008/08/hand-stands.html' title='Hand Stands...'/><author><name>kennedycomplex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18077543061046938846</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-6452541586166535945.post-4821417580494536344</id><published>2008-08-14T22:15:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-14T22:15:07.713-07:00</updated><title type='text'>So funny...</title><content type='html'>I was saying words in Spanish and Ashlyn was trying to say them back to me when I said, "Todo el mundo!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She came back with something like, "Todo belloondo," or something like that, then burst into a fit of giggles.  She then stated, while continuing to giggle, "I am so funny I made myself laugh!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6452541586166535945-4821417580494536344?l=kennedycomplex.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kennedycomplex.blogspot.com/feeds/4821417580494536344/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6452541586166535945&amp;postID=4821417580494536344' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6452541586166535945/posts/default/4821417580494536344'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6452541586166535945/posts/default/4821417580494536344'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kennedycomplex.blogspot.com/2008/08/so-funny.html' title='So funny...'/><author><name>kennedycomplex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18077543061046938846</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-6452541586166535945.post-8368488237472464269</id><published>2008-08-04T08:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-04T08:19:54.251-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sad</title><content type='html'>So today is the first day back to work in a week, and also the first full day without Ashlyn who is at her Nana and Papaw's house.  I am sad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6452541586166535945-8368488237472464269?l=kennedycomplex.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kennedycomplex.blogspot.com/feeds/8368488237472464269/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6452541586166535945&amp;postID=8368488237472464269' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6452541586166535945/posts/default/8368488237472464269'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6452541586166535945/posts/default/8368488237472464269'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kennedycomplex.blogspot.com/2008/08/sad.html' title='Sad'/><author><name>kennedycomplex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18077543061046938846</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-6452541586166535945.post-7773147393470280274</id><published>2008-07-21T18:26:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-21T18:34:10.344-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='togetherness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>Together</title><content type='html'>Sometimes my daughter can really surprise me with her deep thoughts.   I was rambling on about how water molecules like to be near other water molecules, which is why we have rain, streams, rivers, and lakes.   I then thought I would be smart and mention that it is sorta like how people like to be around other people (generally).   People like to stick together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ashlyn remarked, "Like lovebugs?   They are always stuck together.   That's why they are called lovebugs.   They also like to stick to people too."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was too busy trying not to run off the road and fight back a fit of laughter to hear much of the rest of what she said.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6452541586166535945-7773147393470280274?l=kennedycomplex.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kennedycomplex.blogspot.com/feeds/7773147393470280274/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6452541586166535945&amp;postID=7773147393470280274' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6452541586166535945/posts/default/7773147393470280274'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6452541586166535945/posts/default/7773147393470280274'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kennedycomplex.blogspot.com/2008/07/together.html' title='Together'/><author><name>kennedycomplex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18077543061046938846</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-6452541586166535945.post-8641743566910824100</id><published>2008-07-14T22:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-14T22:54:42.045-07:00</updated><title type='text'>So I decided to get a real blog account</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I finally decided to make a real blog besides the one on myspace.  I will probably continue posting in both locations since I don't post that often, so no worries to whoever decides to read this that usually looks at my blog on myspace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I just have to wait for the little stinker to say something I can post... Which will probably not take long! :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6452541586166535945-8641743566910824100?l=kennedycomplex.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kennedycomplex.blogspot.com/feeds/8641743566910824100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6452541586166535945&amp;postID=8641743566910824100' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6452541586166535945/posts/default/8641743566910824100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6452541586166535945/posts/default/8641743566910824100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kennedycomplex.blogspot.com/2008/07/so-i-decided-to-get-real-blog-account.html' title='So I decided to get a real blog account'/><author><name>kennedycomplex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18077543061046938846</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></feed>
