<?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-8438518470406832062</id><updated>2011-04-21T12:19:14.471-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Katherine-isms</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katherineisms.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8438518470406832062/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katherineisms.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Laura</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01798417228334340687</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>15</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8438518470406832062.post-7132843007549862526</id><published>2008-12-18T21:38:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-18T21:47:35.844-07:00</updated><title type='text'>So THAT'S what they're for!</title><content type='html'>I was tired of the horrible noise that my dining chairs made when sliding across the floor, and the marks they left behind on my beautiful, stained, peeling, truly horrendous vinyl flooring, so I decided to finally go and pick up some of those little felt circles to put on the bottoms of the chair legs (would those be chair feet?).  Emma and Katherine decided to pitch in and help with sticking them on, and I noticed after we flipped the first chair upright and tried it out that Katherine seemed to be noticeably more enthusiastic about putting them on the rest of the chairs.  And then she told me &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;why&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; she was so enthusiastic:  "Now we can sneak into things &lt;em&gt;quietly&lt;/em&gt;!"  &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Hmmm&lt;/span&gt;.  I'm rethinking the little felt circles.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8438518470406832062-7132843007549862526?l=katherineisms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katherineisms.blogspot.com/feeds/7132843007549862526/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8438518470406832062&amp;postID=7132843007549862526' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8438518470406832062/posts/default/7132843007549862526'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8438518470406832062/posts/default/7132843007549862526'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katherineisms.blogspot.com/2008/12/so-thats-what-theyre-for.html' title='So THAT&apos;S what they&apos;re for!'/><author><name>Laura</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01798417228334340687</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-8438518470406832062.post-7250301853888824029</id><published>2008-12-03T12:40:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T12:47:17.692-07:00</updated><title type='text'>AKA Geode</title><content type='html'>While we were in the minerals area of the Natural History Museum, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Sariah&lt;/span&gt; and Emma would occasionally read the labels of the different minerals and such to Katherine.  After a few labels, she started making up her own names for the minerals.  I wish I could remember more of them, but the one that I thought was funny was her name for the enormous geode that they had on display.  After examining it, she matter-of-&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;factly&lt;/span&gt; informed us that it was called "The Mystery of the Rock".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8438518470406832062-7250301853888824029?l=katherineisms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katherineisms.blogspot.com/feeds/7250301853888824029/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8438518470406832062&amp;postID=7250301853888824029' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8438518470406832062/posts/default/7250301853888824029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8438518470406832062/posts/default/7250301853888824029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katherineisms.blogspot.com/2008/12/aka-geode.html' title='AKA Geode'/><author><name>Laura</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01798417228334340687</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-8438518470406832062.post-5128703480073368750</id><published>2008-11-25T21:38:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-25T21:41:03.460-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Life plan</title><content type='html'>After being told it was time to change out of her dress-up clothes and put on some real clothes to go to the store:  (with attitude, of course)"I'm going to be a princess for the rest of my life!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8438518470406832062-5128703480073368750?l=katherineisms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katherineisms.blogspot.com/feeds/5128703480073368750/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8438518470406832062&amp;postID=5128703480073368750' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8438518470406832062/posts/default/5128703480073368750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8438518470406832062/posts/default/5128703480073368750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katherineisms.blogspot.com/2008/11/life-plan.html' title='Life plan'/><author><name>Laura</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01798417228334340687</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-8438518470406832062.post-5677906404508078419</id><published>2008-11-13T14:01:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-14T08:58:57.431-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Breaking Up Is Hard To Do</title><content type='html'>A little background information on this one: There has been a little bit of drama - a love triangle of sorts - among the preschoolers in our neighborhood, with Katherine at the center of it. First, Katherine has been in love with the little boy down the street, Jacob, forever, and he is always just a little gentleman with her. She will tell you without hesitation that she is going to marry him. Then, another little boy the same age, Harrison, moved in next door to Jacob, and he &lt;strong&gt;insists&lt;/strong&gt; and tells anyone and everyone that will listen that Katherine is &lt;strong&gt;his&lt;/strong&gt; girlfriend. On Sundays, there was always a little (and sometimes more than a little) competition over who would sit next to Katherine in Primary. It would usually end with her sitting between them, and one or both of them with their arm around her. Yes, folks, we are talking about four-year-&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;olds&lt;/span&gt; here. Well, a few months ago, Harrison moved out of the ward (but still in the same city. As a matter of fact, Chris ran into Harrison's mom recently and she told him that Harrison's new Primary teacher had asked her who this Katherine was that Harrison was always talking about.). And that brings us to the Katherine-ism of the day. :) She was coloring, when she suddenly stopped, heaved an enormous sigh and said, "Well, I guess I got dumped by Harrison." I didn't know she had any clue what that was!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8438518470406832062-5677906404508078419?l=katherineisms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katherineisms.blogspot.com/feeds/5677906404508078419/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8438518470406832062&amp;postID=5677906404508078419' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8438518470406832062/posts/default/5677906404508078419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8438518470406832062/posts/default/5677906404508078419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katherineisms.blogspot.com/2008/11/breaking-up-is-hard-to-do.html' title='Breaking Up Is Hard To Do'/><author><name>Laura</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01798417228334340687</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-8438518470406832062.post-8705788291121914481</id><published>2008-09-18T08:28:00.011-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-03T08:43:31.633-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Let Me Make Myself Clear...</title><content type='html'>I was going to watch Stacy's kids while she went to an appointment. Katherine was really excited to play with Tanner, so she started to get antsy when they hadn't arrived at the appointed time. K: "Maybe they aren't coming." Me: "They're coming. Do you want me to read a story to you while we wait?" K: "No....Maybe Aunt Stacy forgot." Me: "She didn't forget. She's just running late." K: (With her usual &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;exasperated&lt;/span&gt; "Oh, come on, Mommy" look) "She's &lt;em&gt;driving&lt;/em&gt;."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8438518470406832062-8705788291121914481?l=katherineisms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katherineisms.blogspot.com/feeds/8705788291121914481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8438518470406832062&amp;postID=8705788291121914481' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8438518470406832062/posts/default/8705788291121914481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8438518470406832062/posts/default/8705788291121914481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katherineisms.blogspot.com/2008/09/let-me-make-myself-clear.html' title='Let Me Make Myself Clear...'/><author><name>Laura</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01798417228334340687</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-8438518470406832062.post-7722642513458217060</id><published>2008-09-18T08:28:00.009-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T21:14:30.326-06:00</updated><title type='text'>What Goes Around Comes Around</title><content type='html'>From the time-out corner: "Mom, you are GROUNDED from getting me in trouble!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8438518470406832062-7722642513458217060?l=katherineisms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katherineisms.blogspot.com/feeds/7722642513458217060/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8438518470406832062&amp;postID=7722642513458217060' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8438518470406832062/posts/default/7722642513458217060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8438518470406832062/posts/default/7722642513458217060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katherineisms.blogspot.com/2008/09/what-goes-around-comes-around.html' title='What Goes Around Comes Around'/><author><name>Laura</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01798417228334340687</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-8438518470406832062.post-3862699868295053694</id><published>2008-09-18T08:28:00.008-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T21:10:55.602-06:00</updated><title type='text'>If You Can't Say Something Nice....</title><content type='html'>K: "Mommy, you're fat."&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Katherine, that isn't a nice thing to say."&lt;br /&gt;K: (After a moment, with a lightbulb appearing above her head) You're not OLD.....is that nice?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8438518470406832062-3862699868295053694?l=katherineisms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katherineisms.blogspot.com/feeds/3862699868295053694/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8438518470406832062&amp;postID=3862699868295053694' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8438518470406832062/posts/default/3862699868295053694'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8438518470406832062/posts/default/3862699868295053694'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katherineisms.blogspot.com/2008/09/if-you-cant-say-something-nice.html' title='If You Can&apos;t Say Something Nice....'/><author><name>Laura</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01798417228334340687</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-8438518470406832062.post-4886190325845266362</id><published>2008-09-18T08:28:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T21:09:40.584-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Menu For Picky Eaters</title><content type='html'>Emma has to be one of the pickiest eaters on the planet. I swear she complains about 99% of the food that is placed in front of her. Recently, I put her plate in front of her and she immediately started whining about how disgusting it was. Frustrated, I told her that she better stop complaining about dinner every night or I was going to start implementing consequences. Without hesitation, Katherine piped up, "Or else Mommy is going to feed you SPIDERS!!!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8438518470406832062-4886190325845266362?l=katherineisms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katherineisms.blogspot.com/feeds/4886190325845266362/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8438518470406832062&amp;postID=4886190325845266362' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8438518470406832062/posts/default/4886190325845266362'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8438518470406832062/posts/default/4886190325845266362'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katherineisms.blogspot.com/2008/09/menu-for-picky-eaters.html' title='Menu For Picky Eaters'/><author><name>Laura</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01798417228334340687</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-8438518470406832062.post-4269228256472048921</id><published>2008-09-18T08:28:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T21:08:36.214-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Alphabet</title><content type='html'>Katherine was singing letters in a random order to the tune of the alphabet song. When she finished, she excitedly announced, "I sang my ABC's upside-down!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8438518470406832062-4269228256472048921?l=katherineisms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katherineisms.blogspot.com/feeds/4269228256472048921/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8438518470406832062&amp;postID=4269228256472048921' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8438518470406832062/posts/default/4269228256472048921'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8438518470406832062/posts/default/4269228256472048921'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katherineisms.blogspot.com/2008/09/alphabet.html' title='The Alphabet'/><author><name>Laura</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01798417228334340687</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-8438518470406832062.post-3454374724041246098</id><published>2008-09-18T08:28:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T21:15:46.678-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Discovering New Talents</title><content type='html'>We were out shopping, and when we got back to the van I picked Katherine up from the cart and "flew" her to her seat in the van. With a big smile, she exclaimed, "I KNEW I could fly!" Now I'm just worried that she's going to experiment with this "newly-discovered talent"!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8438518470406832062-3454374724041246098?l=katherineisms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katherineisms.blogspot.com/feeds/3454374724041246098/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8438518470406832062&amp;postID=3454374724041246098' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8438518470406832062/posts/default/3454374724041246098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8438518470406832062/posts/default/3454374724041246098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katherineisms.blogspot.com/2008/09/on-discovering-new-talents.html' title='Discovering New Talents'/><author><name>Laura</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01798417228334340687</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-8438518470406832062.post-3389791966173224782</id><published>2008-09-18T08:28:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T21:16:07.439-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Staying on Topic</title><content type='html'>I had been ironing when Katherine walked into the room, so I warned "Don't touch the iron. It's hot." She replied (since we were on the subject), "Oh. Can I touch some candy?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8438518470406832062-3389791966173224782?l=katherineisms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katherineisms.blogspot.com/feeds/3389791966173224782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8438518470406832062&amp;postID=3389791966173224782' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8438518470406832062/posts/default/3389791966173224782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8438518470406832062/posts/default/3389791966173224782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katherineisms.blogspot.com/2008/09/on-staying-on-topic.html' title='Staying on Topic'/><author><name>Laura</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01798417228334340687</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-8438518470406832062.post-5289704097228541932</id><published>2008-09-18T08:28:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T21:17:11.748-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Branding</title><content type='html'>We bought some store-brand Tang, which the label says is "Orange Early-Rise", but we still call Tang. Just to get a reaction, Chris insists on calling it Orange Early-Rise. One day, Katherine asked me for some Tang, then said "Daddy calls it Orange Early-Rise." I said, "Daddy is so silly." She looked at me funny and said, "I call him WRONG."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8438518470406832062-5289704097228541932?l=katherineisms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katherineisms.blogspot.com/feeds/5289704097228541932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8438518470406832062&amp;postID=5289704097228541932' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8438518470406832062/posts/default/5289704097228541932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8438518470406832062/posts/default/5289704097228541932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katherineisms.blogspot.com/2008/09/on-branding.html' title='Branding'/><author><name>Laura</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01798417228334340687</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-8438518470406832062.post-2870835546215297847</id><published>2008-09-18T08:28:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T21:16:57.558-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Personal Space</title><content type='html'>I caught her sneaking into a bag of marshmallows, which she had already been told she could not have. She scowled at me and said, "I just want to be alone right now."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8438518470406832062-2870835546215297847?l=katherineisms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katherineisms.blogspot.com/feeds/2870835546215297847/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8438518470406832062&amp;postID=2870835546215297847' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8438518470406832062/posts/default/2870835546215297847'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8438518470406832062/posts/default/2870835546215297847'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katherineisms.blogspot.com/2008/09/on-personal-space.html' title='Personal Space'/><author><name>Laura</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01798417228334340687</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-8438518470406832062.post-6973538559654322093</id><published>2008-09-18T08:28:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T21:16:35.877-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Daddy's True Identity</title><content type='html'>With her eyes big and her hand up to her mouth, as if she were about to divulge some great secret, she said, "I think Daddy is a monkey!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8438518470406832062-6973538559654322093?l=katherineisms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katherineisms.blogspot.com/feeds/6973538559654322093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8438518470406832062&amp;postID=6973538559654322093' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8438518470406832062/posts/default/6973538559654322093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8438518470406832062/posts/default/6973538559654322093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katherineisms.blogspot.com/2008/09/on-daddys-true-identity.html' title='Daddy&apos;s True Identity'/><author><name>Laura</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01798417228334340687</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-8438518470406832062.post-5847295173871833903</id><published>2008-09-18T08:28:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T21:00:23.339-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Katherine on Poop</title><content type='html'>We have all had the experience of being in a bathroom stall next to someone who seems to....how shall I put this?...have some intestinal discomfort. Of course we don't draw attention to this fact. We finish our business as quickly as possible and get the heck out of there. Sadly, this doesn't fit into Katherine's way of thinking. If she is in the restroom at the same time as someone who has the aforementioned problem, she has to acknowledge it...loudly: "Eeeeewwwww!" followed by your choice of the following: "That's disgusting!" "What was that loud noise?" "Who was that?!" I don't know who is more embarrassed; me, or the poor woman in the next stall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Katherine has been potty trained since right around her birthday last March, but she still wears Pull-Ups at night. Lately, if she feels the need to move her bowels before she has gotten dressed in the morning, she has been just doing her business right in the Pull-Up. Why she would want to do this when she knows how to do it in the toilet is beyond me. When she has done this I tell her that it makes me upset because I know she is a big girl and knows how to go in the toilet, and I don't like to change poopy Pull-Ups. So, one morning she didn't want to get dressed before having breakfast. I wasn't real crazy about this idea, because I knew that there was a possibility that she would poop before she had a chance to finish breakfast and get dressed. So I told her that she could eat breakfast in her pajamas, but she was to go to the bathroom if she needed to poop. She ate her breakfast, and as I was cleaning up I caught an unpleasant whiff. *groan* I said, "Katherine, did you poop in your Pull-Up?!" She grinned a devilish grin and nodded. I said, "I asked you to go to the bathroom if you needed to poop!" Her reply, with raised eyebrows and hand on hip (just oozing attitude....and fortunately nothing else), was "Did you say please?". { :O Hmmmm....Honestly I don't remember if I did or not. Then, a separate time, I was helping her change out of a poopy Pull-Up, and thinking about how I keep telling her that it makes me feel upset that she keeps doing that, and I asked her how she thought it made me feel to have to change a poopy Pull-Up. Her reply: "Sick". LOL! True enough. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8438518470406832062-5847295173871833903?l=katherineisms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katherineisms.blogspot.com/feeds/5847295173871833903/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8438518470406832062&amp;postID=5847295173871833903' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8438518470406832062/posts/default/5847295173871833903'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8438518470406832062/posts/default/5847295173871833903'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katherineisms.blogspot.com/2008/09/katherine-on-poop.html' title='Katherine on Poop'/><author><name>Laura</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01798417228334340687</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>
