<?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-3523107518657338332</id><updated>2011-07-07T23:18:30.484-07:00</updated><category term='Inspiration'/><category term='Things You Say...'/><title type='text'>Light of Common Day</title><subtitle type='html'>An Ode to Early childhood ; )</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trailingclouds.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3523107518657338332/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trailingclouds.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>J &amp;amp; H Moore</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>10</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3523107518657338332.post-8130111356845691067</id><published>2008-07-22T18:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T02:51:55.195-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Who is Astin-Orgon?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PTc48Iyoggs/SIaOwOBGRTI/AAAAAAAAAFM/7UL1swmua8Y/s1600-h/DSC00796.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PTc48Iyoggs/SIaOwOBGRTI/AAAAAAAAAFM/7UL1swmua8Y/s320/DSC00796.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226021376657605938" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;There are unseen beings that live inside the walls of the Moore home and in our front yard. Meet Astin-Orgon. He is a friend of Batman, looks like Boba Fett (the bounty hunter from Star Wars), eats artichokes, flies and has a helmet. Then there’s our sister Jack. Jack is a slug - that’s right those black, gastropod mollusks that lurk under the rocks in your yard. Although Jack enjoys accompanying Mason into the house to read books – at least until she is banished by Mom - her activity of choice is to have a slimy sleep over with her cousin Adie, the earthworm, and Jessie the mole.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Contrary to the constant appearance of media-conceived beings, we allow very little screen time in our home. And although Jack and Adie join our family circle often, especially after a good rain, I have yet to see Jessie the mole – thank goodness. But it doesn’t take much in these early years to influence the imagination of a child whose separation of fiction and reality is gray at best.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I recently read an article about the importance of pretend play in the development of young children. The article reads, “Research has shown that pretend play provides children with a microcosm for life that encourages them to take the skills they have learned in play and apply them to meaningful life activities. It is believed that this process of application helps your child not only develop a skill, but learn how to use it in life.” &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Well, Astin-Orgon and Sister Jack, welcome to the family. Please stay as long as you like. We’ll miss you when you’re gone!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3523107518657338332-8130111356845691067?l=trailingclouds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trailingclouds.blogspot.com/feeds/8130111356845691067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3523107518657338332&amp;postID=8130111356845691067' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3523107518657338332/posts/default/8130111356845691067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3523107518657338332/posts/default/8130111356845691067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trailingclouds.blogspot.com/2008/07/there-are-unseen-beings-that-live.html' title='Who is Astin-Orgon?'/><author><name>J &amp;amp; H Moore</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PTc48Iyoggs/SIaOwOBGRTI/AAAAAAAAAFM/7UL1swmua8Y/s72-c/DSC00796.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3523107518657338332.post-1044412729987940973</id><published>2008-06-20T15:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T02:51:57.114-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Take Me Out to the Ball Game!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PTc48Iyoggs/SFwX0TWeIXI/AAAAAAAAADc/T6qscV5ne9A/s1600-h/DSC02795_2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PTc48Iyoggs/SFwX0TWeIXI/AAAAAAAAADc/T6qscV5ne9A/s320/DSC02795_2.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214068655903351154" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;What fun! This was the boys' first real baseball game and Grandma got to come too! (She didn't even complain that the A's weren't playing - although secretly, I know she loved that the Giants lost.) The boys absolutely loved it - well, after they got over the initial shock that they weren't actually playing baseball. (That would come a little later in the day.) I was optimistic that their interest would last through lunch. But to my surprise, they were actively engaged for 7 innings. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mason loved learning about all of the players, who did what, when to cheer, when to boo. He remembered everything, including the names of the players as they came up to bat over and over. Xander took it all in, asking excited questions about everything he was seeing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PTc48Iyoggs/SFweHyiFIgI/AAAAAAAAADk/vVBy99gPjqE/s1600-h/DSC02819.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PTc48Iyoggs/SFweHyiFIgI/AAAAAAAAADk/vVBy99gPjqE/s320/DSC02819.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214075587760824834" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PTc48Iyoggs/SFweIJdHBuI/AAAAAAAAADs/zfbmWUFOkgw/s1600-h/DSC02800.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PTc48Iyoggs/SFweIJdHBuI/AAAAAAAAADs/zfbmWUFOkgw/s320/DSC02800.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214075593913992930" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, it was time for the boys to play. After a quick trip down the Coke slide, we made our way to the miniature ball field where the boys waited in line to hit the ball and run the bases. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PTc48Iyoggs/SFweImwOgpI/AAAAAAAAAD8/ml6_w0sd7DU/s1600-h/DSC02834.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PTc48Iyoggs/SFweImwOgpI/AAAAAAAAAD8/ml6_w0sd7DU/s320/DSC02834.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214075601778803346" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it was as real to them as the rest of the game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PTc48Iyoggs/SFweJF2XyjI/AAAAAAAAAEE/buzMdnYQ5jU/s1600-h/DSC02848.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PTc48Iyoggs/SFweJF2XyjI/AAAAAAAAAEE/buzMdnYQ5jU/s320/DSC02848.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214075610126076466" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PTc48Iyoggs/SFwgTY25eYI/AAAAAAAAAEM/9oSMsSY9FdY/s1600-h/DSC02849.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PTc48Iyoggs/SFwgTY25eYI/AAAAAAAAAEM/9oSMsSY9FdY/s320/DSC02849.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214077986050505090" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PTc48Iyoggs/SFwiFD_QHsI/AAAAAAAAAEc/gDV3UGIbmpQ/s1600-h/DSC02856.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PTc48Iyoggs/SFwiFD_QHsI/AAAAAAAAAEc/gDV3UGIbmpQ/s320/DSC02856.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214079938953486018" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PTc48Iyoggs/SFwgTs8Z0-I/AAAAAAAAAEU/YzJ4TYn-I1E/s1600-h/DSC02862.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PTc48Iyoggs/SFwgTs8Z0-I/AAAAAAAAAEU/YzJ4TYn-I1E/s320/DSC02862.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214077991442306018" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK, so the highlight of my trip - or at least the part that still makes me laugh - was the trip home. Xander talked non-stop the whole way home, sharing details about his baseball lineup. There were of course the San Francisco Giants and then a few new ones - the Pennsylvania Mountain Mans, the Scotland Chicken Mans and my personal favorite, the Scotland Knockers. Sorry, Grandma, the A's were MIA, perhaps you'd consider cheering on the Knockers. I understand that Knockers can always use a little support ; )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can't wait for our next game!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3523107518657338332-1044412729987940973?l=trailingclouds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trailingclouds.blogspot.com/feeds/1044412729987940973/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3523107518657338332&amp;postID=1044412729987940973' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3523107518657338332/posts/default/1044412729987940973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3523107518657338332/posts/default/1044412729987940973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trailingclouds.blogspot.com/2008/06/take-me-out-to-ball-game.html' title='Take Me Out to the Ball Game!'/><author><name>J &amp;amp; H Moore</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PTc48Iyoggs/SFwX0TWeIXI/AAAAAAAAADc/T6qscV5ne9A/s72-c/DSC02795_2.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3523107518657338332.post-1822000271798496221</id><published>2007-09-23T16:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T02:51:57.318-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Facing Fears</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PTc48Iyoggs/RvbxKmxUg2I/AAAAAAAAADE/GruWaLt4MVk/s1600-h/DSC00656_2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PTc48Iyoggs/RvbxKmxUg2I/AAAAAAAAADE/GruWaLt4MVk/s320/DSC00656_2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113539591434175330" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;As I write, a “Black Knight,” fully armored in dinosaur underwear and plastic shield, breastplate, helmet, and sword is fast approaching threatening to “slay” me. I attempt to hide and plead for mercy. The Knight takes pity on me and says, “Don’t be scared Mommy, I’ll protect you.” I welcome his protection with a hug. Fast forward 4 hours – It’s now dark outside and the Knight intends to retire fully clad in his armor. But now the roles are reversed and the Knight insists that &lt;i&gt;I&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:normal"&gt; wield the sword to frighten away monsters, dragons, ghosts, goblins and other fiends of his imagination that only hours before cowered in his presence. The Black Knight’s brother “Anakin Skywalker” has joined the ranks and requests that I scare away Darth Vader on my way out the door (I’ll explain the irony another time, perhaps after this little Anakin has actually seen or read &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;Star Wars&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:normal"&gt;). No doubt, we’re in for a real treat this year, as my little-big boys demonstrate that although they’re fearless by day, facing their fears at night requires a mom that is still bigger and stronger than any foe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3523107518657338332-1822000271798496221?l=trailingclouds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trailingclouds.blogspot.com/feeds/1822000271798496221/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3523107518657338332&amp;postID=1822000271798496221' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3523107518657338332/posts/default/1822000271798496221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3523107518657338332/posts/default/1822000271798496221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trailingclouds.blogspot.com/2007/09/facing-fears.html' title='Facing Fears'/><author><name>J &amp;amp; H Moore</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PTc48Iyoggs/RvbxKmxUg2I/AAAAAAAAADE/GruWaLt4MVk/s72-c/DSC00656_2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3523107518657338332.post-100470838117566353</id><published>2007-06-02T14:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T02:51:57.630-08:00</updated><title type='text'>to catch a dragonfly</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PTc48Iyoggs/R3wXu9CzVyI/AAAAAAAAADU/gRsWk03lKBk/s1600-h/IMG_6387.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PTc48Iyoggs/R3wXu9CzVyI/AAAAAAAAADU/gRsWk03lKBk/s320/IMG_6387.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5151018169232742178" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Often my heart yearns to freeze a moment in time, allowing nothing to change - A typical sunny day, Nicole and I with our 2½ year old twins, exploring the world, watching as wide-eyed toddlers experience the magic of a new adventure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But to freeze this moment would be to catch a dragonfly. The joy is in witnessing the flight of these tiny creatures - touching down just for an instant to experience a new sensation, only to take flight again, in the blink of an eye, and land just beyond reach. Much like a 2 ½ year old surrounded by the beauty of a world with so much to offer a curious little mind. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, I’ll allow the time to pass yet with a renewed determination to find a quiet moment or two to chronicle my blessed life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(May 06: Demonstrating the art of dragonfly catching, as taught to me at Grammy’s lake over 30 years ago.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Photo by Annie Ballard - Thanks Annie!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3523107518657338332-100470838117566353?l=trailingclouds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trailingclouds.blogspot.com/feeds/100470838117566353/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3523107518657338332&amp;postID=100470838117566353' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3523107518657338332/posts/default/100470838117566353'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3523107518657338332/posts/default/100470838117566353'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trailingclouds.blogspot.com/2006/06/to-catch-dragonfly.html' title='to catch a dragonfly'/><author><name>J &amp;amp; H Moore</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PTc48Iyoggs/R3wXu9CzVyI/AAAAAAAAADU/gRsWk03lKBk/s72-c/IMG_6387.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3523107518657338332.post-7158181758041569672</id><published>2007-03-09T21:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T02:51:58.424-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pure Genious</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PTc48Iyoggs/RfJFkwOWRaI/AAAAAAAAABk/ftpGxny8O-o/s1600-h/IMG_6558.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PTc48Iyoggs/RfJFkwOWRaI/AAAAAAAAABk/ftpGxny8O-o/s320/IMG_6558.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5040167430703695266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;If I wanted to capture every amazing, hysterical, precious, or brilliant thing Mason and Xander say at this age, I would have to strap a video recorder to my forehead in perpetual record mode. I admit, others may not find their musings extraordinary or profound but, oh, they would be wrong. This is pure genious in the making, I guarantee it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the most flattering, and yes, terrifying things the boys do is repeat their parents. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mason and Xander love to do art projects, especially painting. (They would rather paint than watch TV or even eat dessert sometimes.) Quite often while they're in the midst of creating, I'll hear one of them praise the other, "Oh, Xander, good job, you're using so many nice colors! Tell me about your painting." This is from a 3-year old, mind you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately when Xander or Mason want something, and they're under the influence of a napless week, their request takes on the tone of a whine. My response never varies - a somewhat disinterested "Try again." Eventually, they get it right, and I am treated to a sweet, upbeat "Mommy, could I have a ______, please." This morning, Xander wanted some more cereal and, sure enough, struggled with his first attempt. After catching himself, mid whine, without any coaxing from me, he said, "Oh, sorry, that was a whining voice. I'm going to try again. Mommy, can I have some more cereal, please." Not only are they catching on but - Wow! - self correction as well. Of course, more cereal came with unrequested, but gladly accepted Mommy hugs and kisses. Am I the luckiest mom in the world, or what?!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3523107518657338332-7158181758041569672?l=trailingclouds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trailingclouds.blogspot.com/feeds/7158181758041569672/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3523107518657338332&amp;postID=7158181758041569672' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3523107518657338332/posts/default/7158181758041569672'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3523107518657338332/posts/default/7158181758041569672'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trailingclouds.blogspot.com/2007/03/pure-genious.html' title='Pure Genious'/><author><name>J &amp;amp; H Moore</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PTc48Iyoggs/RfJFkwOWRaI/AAAAAAAAABk/ftpGxny8O-o/s72-c/IMG_6558.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3523107518657338332.post-3554212390294176333</id><published>2007-02-25T20:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T02:51:58.517-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Brothers' Bond</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PTc48Iyoggs/ReJqwnzC2bI/AAAAAAAAABY/R8mEr9fNmK4/s1600-h/IMG_2959.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PTc48Iyoggs/ReJqwnzC2bI/AAAAAAAAABY/R8mEr9fNmK4/s320/IMG_2959.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5035704716902980018" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every time you two embrace, giggle together, wrestle, chat in your beds early in the morning, or try to comfort one another, I feel an incomprehensible joy. You are not just brothers "born on the same day" but you are best friends. Sure there are a few arguments over watching the Wiggles (Mason) vs Thomas (Xander) and squabbles over toys. But - honestly - these moments are few and far between. When Mom or Dad have one on one time with you, you light up and enjoy every moment but you mention your brother often, tell strangers about him, and can't wait to return to tell him about your adventures. We are so blessed to be able to witness this special bond that you have now, and hopefully always will!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3523107518657338332-3554212390294176333?l=trailingclouds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trailingclouds.blogspot.com/feeds/3554212390294176333/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3523107518657338332&amp;postID=3554212390294176333' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3523107518657338332/posts/default/3554212390294176333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3523107518657338332/posts/default/3554212390294176333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trailingclouds.blogspot.com/2007/02/brothers-bond.html' title='A Brothers&apos; Bond'/><author><name>J &amp;amp; H Moore</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PTc48Iyoggs/ReJqwnzC2bI/AAAAAAAAABY/R8mEr9fNmK4/s72-c/IMG_2959.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3523107518657338332.post-5029365100534262484</id><published>2007-02-19T19:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-09T23:19:43.981-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Things You Say...'/><title type='text'>Today's Happenings and Sayings...</title><content type='html'>XANDER'S REWARD:&lt;br /&gt;Today was President's Day and Josh had an oil and gas meeting in Bakersfield. I love family outings with Josh and the boys; I love outings with Nicole, her kids, and the boys, or with other friends. But every once in a while, I love an outing with just me and the boys. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had lunch at Baja Fresh, threw pennies in the fountain at Town Center and played in A Child's Delight toy store. I took this chance to let Xander pick out a new train for his 100% potty training success. We then got chocolate chip cookies and walked over to the book store, stopping to play along the way. Mason and Xander each picked out a new book - a train one for Xander and a Star Wars (a movie he has never seen) sticker book for Mason.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Xander and Mason are just over 3 and Xander has been trained day and night for almost a month now. Great going little guy! So, Xander picked out Spencer (the fastest engine on the Island of Sodor) for his reward. Mason has just one more potty training hurdle to cross but he's not far behind Xander.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN BOYS AND GIRLS:&lt;br /&gt;Tonight while I was getting Mason dried off and dressed after his bath, I took a moment to tell him why I'm so proud of him:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;• For going pooh pooh on the potty&lt;br /&gt;• For being such a nice boy to his brother and friends and a good listener to mommy&lt;br /&gt;• For being so smart&lt;br /&gt;• For all of the songs he loves to sing&lt;br /&gt;• For how he loves the scriptures&lt;br /&gt;• For how much he loves to pray and changes his prayers every time he prays, especially what he's thankful for&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I was telling him all of the reasons why I'm proud of him, he looked at me and said, "Mommy, You don't have a penis 'cause you're a girl." "You're right," I said. And then, trying to contain my laughter, I continued to mentioned the other reasons I was so proud of him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HONEY:&lt;br /&gt;While I was tucking Xander into bed, I said, "I love you honey." Xander said, "I'm not honey. That's what Pooh Bear eats." I said, "Well, you're my honey because you're so sweet." "Oh, okay," said Xander.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3523107518657338332-5029365100534262484?l=trailingclouds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trailingclouds.blogspot.com/feeds/5029365100534262484/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3523107518657338332&amp;postID=5029365100534262484' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3523107518657338332/posts/default/5029365100534262484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3523107518657338332/posts/default/5029365100534262484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trailingclouds.blogspot.com/2007/02/todays-happenings-and-sayings.html' title='Today&apos;s Happenings and Sayings...'/><author><name>J &amp;amp; H Moore</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3523107518657338332.post-8601526962367447155</id><published>2007-02-18T16:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T02:51:58.779-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Inspiring Mason...Lesson Learned</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PTc48Iyoggs/RdksAHzC2UI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6EO6uH5QBqg/s1600-h/PICT2514_2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PTc48Iyoggs/RdksAHzC2UI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6EO6uH5QBqg/s320/PICT2514_2.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5033102439168006466" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One night when Josh was out of town, exhausted, I rushed through Mason and Xander's bedtime routine. Instead of reading a scripture, we sang "Jesus Wants Me for a Sunbeam." Shortly after the boys were asleep, I went to bed myself. Then, in the middle of the night, I heard Mason crying. From my room I could clearly hear his concern. "Mommy, I need a scripture." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My heart sank. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I had assumed that we read the scriptures as a family in blind faith, knowing that we would be blessed for keeping this commandment. What I had never imagined was that in their 3-year old hearts, there was already an understanding of the peace the scriptures can bring. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I jumped out of bed, went to Mason's bedside and, in the dark, quoted a scripture I knew by heart. Mason immediately fell back to sleep. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you Mason, for this, and the other daily lessons you and your brother teach me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3523107518657338332-8601526962367447155?l=trailingclouds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trailingclouds.blogspot.com/feeds/8601526962367447155/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3523107518657338332&amp;postID=8601526962367447155' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3523107518657338332/posts/default/8601526962367447155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3523107518657338332/posts/default/8601526962367447155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trailingclouds.blogspot.com/2007/02/inspiring-masonlesson-learned.html' title='Inspiring Mason...Lesson Learned'/><author><name>J &amp;amp; H Moore</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PTc48Iyoggs/RdksAHzC2UI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6EO6uH5QBqg/s72-c/PICT2514_2.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3523107518657338332.post-393152618850062930</id><published>2006-11-23T22:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T02:51:58.917-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Inspiration'/><title type='text'>To My Child</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PTc48Iyoggs/RfJLiAOWRcI/AAAAAAAAAB0/s1CDHQzUg2w/s1600-h/2005_0616Image0010_2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PTc48Iyoggs/RfJLiAOWRcI/AAAAAAAAAB0/s1CDHQzUg2w/s320/2005_0616Image0010_2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5040173980528821698" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are the trip I did not take;&lt;br /&gt;You are the pearls I cannot buy;&lt;br /&gt;You are my blue Italian lake;&lt;br /&gt;You are my piece of foreign sky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---Anne Campbell&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3523107518657338332-393152618850062930?l=trailingclouds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trailingclouds.blogspot.com/feeds/393152618850062930/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3523107518657338332&amp;postID=393152618850062930' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3523107518657338332/posts/default/393152618850062930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3523107518657338332/posts/default/393152618850062930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trailingclouds.blogspot.com/2006/11/to-my-child.html' title='To My Child'/><author><name>J &amp;amp; H Moore</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PTc48Iyoggs/RfJLiAOWRcI/AAAAAAAAAB0/s1CDHQzUg2w/s72-c/2005_0616Image0010_2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3523107518657338332.post-3001487638679646729</id><published>2006-11-23T21:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-23T22:38:25.207-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Inspiration'/><title type='text'>Ode: Intimations of Immortality</title><content type='html'>Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting:&lt;br /&gt;Our Soul that rises with us, our life Star, &lt;br /&gt;Hath had elsewhere its setting,&lt;br /&gt;And cometh from afar:&lt;br /&gt;Not is entire forgetfulness,&lt;br /&gt;And not in utter nakedness,&lt;br /&gt;But trailing clouds of glory do we come&lt;br /&gt;From God, who is our home:&lt;br /&gt;Heaven lies about us in our infancy!&lt;br /&gt;Shades of the prison-house begin to close&lt;br /&gt;Upon the growing Boy, &lt;br /&gt;But He&lt;br /&gt;Beholds the light, and whence it flows,&lt;br /&gt;He sees it in his joy;&lt;br /&gt;The Youth, who daily farther from the east&lt;br /&gt;Must travel, still is Nature's Priest,&lt;br /&gt;And by the vision splendid&lt;br /&gt;Is on his way attended;&lt;br /&gt;At length the Man perceives it die away,&lt;br /&gt;And fade into the light of common day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--- William Wordsworth&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3523107518657338332-3001487638679646729?l=trailingclouds.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3523107518657338332/posts/default/3001487638679646729'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3523107518657338332/posts/default/3001487638679646729'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trailingclouds.blogspot.com/2006/11/ode-intimations-of-immortality.html' title='Ode: Intimations of Immortality'/><author><name>J &amp;amp; H Moore</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry></feed>
