<?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-756726782337400399</id><updated>2011-07-07T17:28:39.828-07:00</updated><category term='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SYDcbtzFlaI/AAAAAAAAAIg/E3OfjTSocYE/s1600-h/DSC00656.JPG'/><title type='text'>American Mum</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Marsha Howell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07262607790180272033</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>59</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-756726782337400399.post-686710112474498133</id><published>2010-08-05T13:56:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-05T14:07:09.954-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Birthday Pictures</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; If you read the post below, you will get the story. Due to computer issues, I am only now able to post photos.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/TFsneL3wTZI/AAAAAAAAAUY/Mwa0CIXB39o/s1600/DSC00519.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/TFsneL3wTZI/AAAAAAAAAUY/Mwa0CIXB39o/s320/DSC00519.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502034769299393938" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Happy birthday to you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/TFsnD_FxIII/AAAAAAAAAUQ/taoVTgi8uCw/s1600/DSC00532.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/TFsnD_FxIII/AAAAAAAAAUQ/taoVTgi8uCw/s320/DSC00532.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502034319191908482" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Easy rider!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/TFsmmFX2A1I/AAAAAAAAAUI/L-4ZUf2xeVo/s1600/DSC00553.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/TFsmmFX2A1I/AAAAAAAAAUI/L-4ZUf2xeVo/s320/DSC00553.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502033805482263378" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not sure if he was pointing to the animals, but at least it looks that way.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/756726782337400399-686710112474498133?l=marshahowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/feeds/686710112474498133/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=756726782337400399&amp;postID=686710112474498133' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/686710112474498133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/686710112474498133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/2010/08/birthday-pictures.html' title='Birthday Pictures'/><author><name>Marsha Howell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07262607790180272033</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://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/TFsneL3wTZI/AAAAAAAAAUY/Mwa0CIXB39o/s72-c/DSC00519.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-756726782337400399.post-5108997290629479824</id><published>2010-08-05T07:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-05T07:21:08.466-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ben is 2!</title><content type='html'>Well, it is official.  My little man is now the big 2!  I can hardly believe it has been that long, but it's true.  Sadly, I'll have to post photos later.  I tried to get ahead and dumped all of the pictures on my computer.  Unfortunately, my computer and the wireless internet have a love/hate relationship so it is not cooperating.  I guess I will have to use my words to paint a picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His actual birthday didn't go so well.  It was a school day so I made him go to nursery.  That sounds terrible, but they make me pay regardless and it's only one day a week.  He's been having a good time there lately, but this week he was a little sad.  He is now officially in the toddler room.  He has been there before, but never for all day.  Plus, I suspect he knew something was up.  He is rather astute like that.  Anyway, so when I picked him up, he was refusing his fruit and looking like someone had taken his toy.  When we got home, he got to talk to Joe and was happy to play.  So far so good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The plan was to do cake and presents with Minh and Brooke from next door and have Joe's family on Skype.  That was the plan... Minh and Brooke were late because of a last minute phone call.  Skype REFUSED to cooperate.  Ben did not like his birthday cake.  Oh, well...on to presents!  So he opened up a few and played happily.  Then I brought down his big gift, a shiny red plastic motorcycle that he can scoot around on.  Epic fail!  Despite that it is quite wide, I think he felt unstable on it.  Between that and the fact that he had only a 45-minute nap at school, he was in a foul mood.  Eventually, I put the bike in the other room while he screamed bloody murder.  At some point,  I got him to calm down and watch tv and eat some crackers.  However, when I put him to bed, more high pitched screaming.  The kind of screams where you know that is hurting the person who is doing it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a funny note, I actually took a 15-second video of the screaming for Joe.  I wasn't trying to get sympathy.  I was trying to make him feel better.  He had been feeling sad about missing Ben's birthday.  I wanted him to know that he missed nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, I took Ben to a wildlife park.  I had already deicided that we would do that instead of a party.  When we got up, it was cloudy and a bit wet.  We went anyway and the rain managed to hold off almost the whole time.  To be honest, Ben was more interested in playing with the stones along the path, but I think he had a good time.  It was a small park so we were able to most of the animals.  They also had a few play areas, but it was too wet for him to properly enjoy.  Just about the time we were done, the sky opened up.  I put him in the car with some snacks and headed home, all before nap time.  Success!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/756726782337400399-5108997290629479824?l=marshahowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/feeds/5108997290629479824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=756726782337400399&amp;postID=5108997290629479824' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/5108997290629479824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/5108997290629479824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/2010/08/ben-is-2.html' title='Ben is 2!'/><author><name>Marsha Howell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07262607790180272033</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-756726782337400399.post-5563122833007538247</id><published>2010-07-16T12:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-16T13:05:28.257-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer Update</title><content type='html'>I hadn't realized how long it had been until I signed in.  I knew it had been a while, but no clue how long.  Sorry to all my loyal readers!  (all 2 of you.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The truth of it is that I (and the Howells in general) have been very busy.  Here's a generic rundown of everything you missed:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Joe's squadron had a dining out in the Tower of London.  Amazing!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Summer ball&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Vacation to Ireland with me, Joe, Ben, and Liz.  Visited Dublin and the Dingle Peninsula&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Trip to Edinburgh, Scotland with friends&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Joe wrapped up his Master's degree&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I've been working on 2 more classes toward mine&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Fourth of July BBQ at our house&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Numerous BBQs at other houses&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Ben entered the terrible twos a few months early&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Joe deployed overseas&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;I bet you are tired just reading that!  I haven't meant to neglect you.  I simply haven't had any other choice.  Overall, we are doing well.  When I get a chance, I will fill in some details.  Unfortunately, I have to go write a paper...due in 2 weeks...that I haven't started...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/756726782337400399-5563122833007538247?l=marshahowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/feeds/5563122833007538247/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=756726782337400399&amp;postID=5563122833007538247' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/5563122833007538247'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/5563122833007538247'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/2010/07/summer-update.html' title='Summer Update'/><author><name>Marsha Howell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07262607790180272033</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-756726782337400399.post-4890281703143803813</id><published>2010-05-26T07:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-26T13:29:47.664-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer Plans</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/S_2EM_UK8bI/AAAAAAAAAUA/W_Z9LbL1gqs/s1600/DSC00126.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/S_2EM_UK8bI/AAAAAAAAAUA/W_Z9LbL1gqs/s320/DSC00126.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475678080641724850" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Time is ticking away here as it always does.  I realized today that in a little over a month, Joe will be headed on his 3-month, all-expenses-paid vacation (Afghanistan).  Normally, I would have a pit in my stomach about that much time alone with B-bear.  However, summertime makes it easier to keep him entertained and makes me feel more positive all around.  Plus, I have my two classes to keep me distracted (usually I just stay up late watching trashy TV).  Hopefully, Joe will get to come back for a few days in August, which should be right around Ben's birthday.  (My baby is going to be 2!  How did that happen?  Was I there?)  Then Mama Anna will rescue me for a few weeks and we will accompany her back to Florida for about a month.  I'm a bit gutted about missing September in England because it is so beautiful.  However, September in Florida is nice too and we will be back for October, which is the last bit of loveliness before the ash cloud of winter sets in.&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/S_2DdDWt5iI/AAAAAAAAAT4/oTG_3DwFGRQ/s320/DSC00117.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475677257092425250" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, really, I just need to make it through July.  I predict a haze of Lean Cuisine, trips to the Mothers' Gym on base, living at the local playgrounds, and &lt;i&gt;lots &lt;/i&gt;of Ben's favorite...ice cream.  There is a store in town with a giant ice cream cone out front.  He shouts "ice cream!" everytime we go by.  Even when they are closed, the store is dark, and the cone is inside, he still sees it and shouts.  Ben has incredible eyesight.  He spots planes far away, high up in the sky.  Planes you would &lt;i&gt;never &lt;/i&gt;notice if you did not have an enthusiastic toddler screaming "airplane" and pointing.  Joe said he wishes some of the other guys in his squadron could spot planes so well. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/756726782337400399-4890281703143803813?l=marshahowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/feeds/4890281703143803813/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=756726782337400399&amp;postID=4890281703143803813' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/4890281703143803813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/4890281703143803813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/2010/05/summer.html' title='Summer Plans'/><author><name>Marsha Howell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07262607790180272033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/S_2EM_UK8bI/AAAAAAAAAUA/W_Z9LbL1gqs/s72-c/DSC00126.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-756726782337400399.post-1012917935972856275</id><published>2010-05-02T05:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-02T06:17:48.205-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/S917JGSmCxI/AAAAAAAAATw/35ORXk_LPbw/s1600/DSC00011.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/S917JGSmCxI/AAAAAAAAATw/35ORXk_LPbw/s320/DSC00011.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466660918935292690" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Spring has sprung here in England.   The weather is warmer and flowers are blooming.  The birds are eating from the feeders.  Hooray!  Winter is over!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is good because my little guy wants to be outside all of the time.  We spend a lot of time in our courtyard.  It is times like now when I desperately wish we had a yard.  It would be a fine space if it did not double as a parking space for the Camry.  Most of our outdoor time is spent like this:  Ben throws the ball on the hood of the car, it rolls under the car, Ben cries for me to get it, I crawl under the car or fish it out with a broom, repeat.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sometimes, he likes to help me water the plants.  Mainly this consists of him taking the watering can to the patch of dirt with no plants and dumping it out.  Not very productive, but he does get quite excited.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/S916XcIDhyI/AAAAAAAAATo/lnNt9hn-KK8/s320/DSC00024.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466660065803208482" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Joe and I have been pretty busy lately.  I wrapped up my first class at the end of April, and Joe is finishing his last two classes.  Between school, work, etc., there hasn't been a lot of free time.  This weekend is a three-day weekend so we are trying to make up for lost time.  Friday, we ate junk food and watched a movie.  Yesterday, we went to the Eel Day celebration.  We watched a group of people carry a paper mache eel from the cathedral to the river.  There was food stalls and a band.  The whole thing was pretty silly, but it was a great excuse to get out and about. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/S915ZAQ_66I/AAAAAAAAATg/CJBZ3aMVlHA/s320/DSC00031.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466658993172638626" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; On our way back, we discovered a new park.  It had a giant swing, and spinning see-saw, and a zip line.  Despite my cries that we would break th&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;e equipment, Joe and I played on everything.  (It was fine.)  It was so much fun!  Ben did not enjoy it, but his parents sure did.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/756726782337400399-1012917935972856275?l=marshahowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/feeds/1012917935972856275/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=756726782337400399&amp;postID=1012917935972856275' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/1012917935972856275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/1012917935972856275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/2010/05/spring-has-sprung-here-in-england.html' title=''/><author><name>Marsha Howell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07262607790180272033</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://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/S917JGSmCxI/AAAAAAAAATw/35ORXk_LPbw/s72-c/DSC00011.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-756726782337400399.post-7082753184946797336</id><published>2010-03-14T06:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-14T07:26:12.956-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mothering Sunday</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;It is Mother's Day today in the UK and for me it is an especially bittersweet one.  Ben gave me a lovely card and mug this morning.  Lorre and I (and all the other mums) received beautiful flower poseys at church.  Rumors are that even my dear hubby Joe has something special planned for me and his mom.  However, Joe is gone and since Mother's Day is a family day, it is a little sad when the whole family is not here.&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;But the primary reason for the sadness is that this Mother's Day I am mother to one, not two children.  A week ago, I lost the baby.  (lost...as though I did something wrong.)  Saturday, I noticed some bleeding, but thought it was the same early pregnancy spotting I had with Ben.  When I began cramping, I joked to Joe that it doesn't seem fair that a pregnant girl should feel like she was getting her period.  Jokes became concerns, which led to a middle of the night ER run.  The doctor said that he could not yet confirm if the baby was okay.  Sunday morning brought a lot more blood and I knew the baby was gone.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;It is amazing how something like this affects you.  Initially, I felt very pragmatic about it.  Yes, it is very sad, but these things happen all the time.  Nothing I could have done.  I also felt relief.  I was terrified of juggling two babies.  How would I carry them around?  Would Ben be a hateful, jealous older brother?  Would I resent them?  A few days after I found out about the pregnancy, I had a mini breakdown.  There was anger and shouting, which then gave way to sobbing and shaking.  Not my finest moment I assure you.  However, I truly believe that every mother has had a similar episode, and if you haven't yet, your day will surely come.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Slowly, I began to feel stunned.  My pregnancy never really felt real to me anyway.  So much so that I almost felt like I was pretending to be pregnant.  Had I imagined the phone call from the doctor?  I knew that over 40 weeks of pregnancy, it would materialize, but it had not happened yet.  And now, something that never seemed real to begin with was no longer there.  Wrap your head around that one.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Then came the sadness.  Did God take her away because he did not think I could handle her?  (Yes, I was hoping for a girl.)  Was this an awful case of "be careful what you wish for?"  I didn't really want her to go away.  I was just scared.  I would love her.  Bring her back!  It was awful to realize that I will never get to know her.  Never throw her a princess tea party.  The happy family portrait in my head of two adults and two children went POOF.    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Then my Facebook friend posted her ultrasound.  The fetus is just starting to look like a teeny tiny baby.  This woman has a child a few months younger than Ben, a gorgeous husband, and very confident parenting skills.  Crushing blow delivered.   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I laid in my bed and cried and cried.   Part of me thought I should talk to someone for comfort, but I knew everything that would be said.  Not your fault.  It will be okay.  Part of God's plan.  And all the other things that sound reassuring.  But I knew none of it would help.  None of those sayings would bring her back.  Come October, there will be no speedy trip to the hospital.  No bundle of joy to bring home.  No tiny red dress in our Christmas card this year.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I let the tears flow until I felt exhausted enough to sleep.  When I awoke, I felt better and have felt better since.  It is bittersweet, but I will be okay.  Our family will grow one day, but even if it doesn't, I love my boys (dog included) and that is enough for me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/756726782337400399-7082753184946797336?l=marshahowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/feeds/7082753184946797336/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=756726782337400399&amp;postID=7082753184946797336' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/7082753184946797336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/7082753184946797336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/2010/03/mothering-sunday.html' title='Mothering Sunday'/><author><name>Marsha Howell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07262607790180272033</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-756726782337400399.post-1910722101628760465</id><published>2010-02-26T08:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-26T08:59:11.097-08:00</updated><title type='text'>February</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/S4f9Y2mFQhI/AAAAAAAAATU/OXi12ov9mjA/s1600-h/IMG_0437.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/S4f9Y2mFQhI/AAAAAAAAATU/OXi12ov9mjA/s320/IMG_0437.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442597278114464274" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Greetings everyone!  Well, things are going nicely here in sleepy Ely.  (It is especially sleepy today.  All three of my boys are napping. :)  The last few days have been warmer than usual so I feel spring must be on its way.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Joe's parents, Joe Sr. and Lorre, arrive tomorrow for another visit.  They are going to be staying for six weeks.  I know that sounds like a long time to have your in-laws visit, but when you have to fly across the ocean, you need to make it count.  Plus, my Joe will be in Vegas for three of those weeks so I am thrilled to have some help!  (Yes, democracy must be defended on the Strip too.)  I know Ben will really enjoy time with them and that warms my heart.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Speaking of Ben, he is growing and changing so much everyday.  I feel like all of a sudden he is doing "big boy" things.  He has discovered Thomas the Train and loves him!  He's had a Thomas push train for a long time and then he got a Thomas the Train book.  Without having ever seen the TV show, Ben thinks Thomas is the coolest thing on earth.  Well, the second coolest I guess because his real love is Ely Cathedral.  I am not making that up.  Every time he sees it, he gets very excited and points to it.  It doesn't matter if we are outside, in the car, or in the living room.  He says "OOOH!" and points.  As far as Ben is concerned, the Cathedral is a rock star.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Baby 2 is growing too.  I had my first OB appointment the other day.  He/She is just a teeny tiny sprout.  The ultrasound said I was six weeks along and that the due date is October 18, 2010.  I was a little bummed because the first due date is my mom and Kim's (my sis-in-law) birthday.  To be honest though, I am much happier to have another month.  There will be so many changes and I need a lot of time to prepare.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/756726782337400399-1910722101628760465?l=marshahowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/feeds/1910722101628760465/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=756726782337400399&amp;postID=1910722101628760465' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/1910722101628760465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/1910722101628760465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/2010/02/february.html' title='February'/><author><name>Marsha Howell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07262607790180272033</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://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/S4f9Y2mFQhI/AAAAAAAAATU/OXi12ov9mjA/s72-c/IMG_0437.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-756726782337400399.post-692743911712341456</id><published>2010-02-18T12:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-18T13:02:05.966-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Westminster</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/S32qlTuyeUI/AAAAAAAAATM/RvP3K0Ws4zQ/s1600-h/IMG_0512.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/S32qlTuyeUI/AAAAAAAAATM/RvP3K0Ws4zQ/s320/IMG_0512.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439691482861828418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I am avoiding my schoolwork, I figured I would use the free time to update you on what is going on in the world of the Howells.  It is currently raining and has been all day.  Although that meant that B and I (and Bastian) were stuck in the house all day, it also means that Joe didn't have to do his night sortie.  Yay for a husband at home and a dinner of fish and chips! (Last night, Joe made pancakes for dinner.  I could get used to this treatment.)&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Last Saturday, the family packed up and headed off to London.  After many tries, we finally saw Westminster Abbey!!  For those of you who don't know, this is the large cathedral right next to Parliament and Big Ben.  The monarchs are crowned there as well.  It is very famous, and as a result, I think every famous person on earth is buried there.  Joe and I have tried to see it many times on past trips to London, but it was always closed.  As an added bonus, we ran into our friend Jimmy and his wife Jen as we got off the tube in London.  (Sometimes, the world is a mighty small place.)  We all saw the Abbey together and then headed to Bodeans for BBQ.  Yummy!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/756726782337400399-692743911712341456?l=marshahowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/feeds/692743911712341456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=756726782337400399&amp;postID=692743911712341456' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/692743911712341456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/692743911712341456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/2010/02/westminster.html' title='Westminster'/><author><name>Marsha Howell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07262607790180272033</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://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/S32qlTuyeUI/AAAAAAAAATM/RvP3K0Ws4zQ/s72-c/IMG_0512.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-756726782337400399.post-6922233582040608501</id><published>2010-02-05T15:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-05T15:44:35.845-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Big Week</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/S2yntIbmXKI/AAAAAAAAATE/56qcr03sQ6w/s1600-h/DSCN0614.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5434903244128541858" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/S2yntIbmXKI/AAAAAAAAATE/56qcr03sQ6w/s320/DSCN0614.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/S2ynCr4_QUI/AAAAAAAAAS8/E_ca7vOrJ9k/s1600-h/DSCN0614.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Yes, I know this picture is from Christmas and it is currently February.  To be fair, we have had some camera issues lately.  The old camera died, so we bought a new one.  Only that one had a cracked screen when Joe brought it home from Austria.  So we ordered a new screen from a Chinese man in Chicago.  However, when Joe tried to install it, he shocked himself...twice.  After the second time, the camera stopped working.  You would think I was making this up...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In other news, it has been a very big week for the Howells.  On Monday, I ran off the road and into a ditch.  The road was very icy and had no grit.  Fortunately, the ditch (which is very deep) was muddy and the mud kept the car from going all the way in.  Even though it was a rural road, there were several people to help me as soon as the car stopped.  Once Ben and I were out, a lovely man pulled out my stuck car.  All was well, including the car.  Considering how deep the ditch was, it could have been FAR worse.  When we were stuck the rear of the car was in the air about two feet.  Someone got Benjamin out just fine, but I was further down.  I was afraid that if I got out, the weight would shift and the car would flip or roll on me.  Turns out that the mud was very thick and the car did not budge.  Phew!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On Tuesday, Joe had lunch with the Queen.  Yes, the Queen of England.  She visits his base once every few years and he was lucky enough to be invited to the luncheon.  (I was not.)  They did not chat, but I think they smiled at each other.  That night I agonized over what to make for dinner.  What do you make for your husband when he's had a lunch "fit for a Queen?"  (We had tuna steaks and salad.  Joe complained there was no bread.) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Wednesday, we received some very unexpected news.  I had gone to the base for some lab work for a procedure I was having.  (An IUD--5 year birth control.)  I had been home for about 10 minutes when the phone rang.  "Mrs. Howell, our lab work shows your pregnant."  Needless to say, I was very surprised.  Baby 2 is on the way!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It is still very early on in the pregnancy.  I think maybe a month or so.  Such a change from last time when I found out 4 months in!  I believe the littlest squirt will be here at the end of September, but I'm not sure yet.  Stay tuned.  Maybe by the time we get a camera that works, I will have a bump to post!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/756726782337400399-6922233582040608501?l=marshahowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/feeds/6922233582040608501/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=756726782337400399&amp;postID=6922233582040608501' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/6922233582040608501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/6922233582040608501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/2010/02/big-week.html' title='Big Week'/><author><name>Marsha Howell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07262607790180272033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/S2yntIbmXKI/AAAAAAAAATE/56qcr03sQ6w/s72-c/DSCN0614.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-756726782337400399.post-7738621103495659104</id><published>2009-12-30T09:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-30T10:28:18.751-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy New Year!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/Szubu9ZdgWI/AAAAAAAAASU/SyDVG7HHQfM/s1600-h/DSCN0645.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421097807528165730" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/Szubu9ZdgWI/AAAAAAAAASU/SyDVG7HHQfM/s320/DSCN0645.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;These last two months have felt like an extended vacation. We traveled back to the US, hosted family, celebrated Christmas, and are about to ring in the New Year with good friends. As a result, my waistline has bloomed and Ben has developed a taste for diet coke. Next week will force us back to reality, and I have to admit that I am not looking forward to it. Joe will be back to work full-time and have the added responsiblity of being a flight scheduler. In addition to my domestic duties, I will be working part-time and starting my Masters. Add in several TDYs, a dreary winter, and an upcoming deployment and you'll see why I'm not too excited about 2010.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;However, I am currently in Salisbury drinking tea and listen to my husband sing karaoke. Ben is happily running around. Life is good and I can pretend it will stay that way. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/756726782337400399-7738621103495659104?l=marshahowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/feeds/7738621103495659104/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=756726782337400399&amp;postID=7738621103495659104' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/7738621103495659104'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/7738621103495659104'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/2009/12/happy-new-year.html' title='Happy New Year!'/><author><name>Marsha Howell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07262607790180272033</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://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/Szubu9ZdgWI/AAAAAAAAASU/SyDVG7HHQfM/s72-c/DSCN0645.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-756726782337400399.post-5190699199023313950</id><published>2009-11-03T08:22:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-03T08:41:41.831-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Back in the USA</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SvBdNeELI7I/AAAAAAAAASM/Ilcse7AXbqc/s1600-h/Halloween+007.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399918439207478194" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SvBdNeELI7I/AAAAAAAAASM/Ilcse7AXbqc/s320/Halloween+007.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;On Thursday, Benjamin and I flew back to the States. After a really hectic month, it is great to be have a break. I was really dreading the flight, but Ben was a star. We also got very lucky. The flight to Orlando was full, except for the seat next to me. Plus, we had a bulkhead seat. That meant I had three places to move the B-man when he got antsy. (which was about every 10 mintues!) There were several families on board, but I think I got hooked up because I was flying by myself. Thank you Virgin Atlantic!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We spent Thursday and Friday night at a resort in Orlando. That was just what I needed after such a stressful time. My mom and I spent the morning at the spa and then we all headed to the pool. Ben didn't love the pool, but he did like floating on my lap in the lazy river.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Unfortunately, it was during this time that we got some bad news. Joe's grandmother, Maxine Howell, had to be hospitalized with a punctured bowel and passed away shortly after. We are all saddened by the news. I just feel really grateful that it happened now so Benjamin and I can attend the service. Joe will not be able to come, but I am happy we can.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now for some happy news. We took Ben to London on Wednesday on our way to the airport. No more helmet!! He had reached the goal we set of 10 mm of asymmetry. (I think 6 or less is classified as "normal.") They said we could keep it on another few weeks if we wanted, but we did not need to bring him back for another appointment. Joe and I think his head looks remarkably better. If we weren't going to be seeing all of our friends and family, I might have left it on a little longer. He is so handsome without it. It is also really nice not to deal with it anymore. Hooray!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/756726782337400399-5190699199023313950?l=marshahowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/feeds/5190699199023313950/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=756726782337400399&amp;postID=5190699199023313950' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/5190699199023313950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/5190699199023313950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/2009/11/back-in-usa.html' title='Back in the USA'/><author><name>Marsha Howell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07262607790180272033</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://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SvBdNeELI7I/AAAAAAAAASM/Ilcse7AXbqc/s72-c/Halloween+007.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-756726782337400399.post-9129209470074542801</id><published>2009-10-15T16:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-15T17:02:18.753-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Life with B</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/Ste3x41-iTI/AAAAAAAAASE/7lRdHUizsgg/s1600-h/100_1341.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392981146499713330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/Ste3x41-iTI/AAAAAAAAASE/7lRdHUizsgg/s320/100_1341.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, Joe made us coffee around 8:30 pm. He and Bastian are passed out in bed. I am wide awake. So I thought I'd catch you up on what is going on in our lives.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;As you know, things have been very busy around here, but I am starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Joe is nearly done with his paper and Ben is over his virus. Hooray!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392980777728246066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/Ste3cbEAgTI/AAAAAAAAAR8/VZqM8Y--I9o/s320/100_1343.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We're starting to notice that Benjamin is becoming more and more fun. He is starting to enjoy being outside more, which is nice for me. Case in point, yesterday I grabbed a coffee and cake to go and headed for the park. He ran around while I enjoyed my snack. To be fair, he enjoyed the snack also. He also enjoyed chasing the ducks the other day. Very cute.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392980357626409170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/Ste3D-D7MNI/AAAAAAAAAR0/Y2NLGtV96_8/s320/100_1327.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;There are so many cute, funny stories and I am feel like I am going to forget all of them. So here goes. In my effort to remember my little boy as he is right now, I am going to list as many recent memories as I can. Enjoy!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;He learned to climb the stairs and loves to do so. Everytime he is quiet, I get scared.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;He loves for me to carry him. I fear I will throw out my back one day soon.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;He LOVES cats. Gee, wonder where he gets that...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;He really likes it when Bastian's tail hits him in the face.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;He does this little half-step march in place thing when he gets excited. It's like a little jig. Today, he did it because he was upset though. I guess it is for big emotions.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;He enjoys watching me and Joe cook.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;He is always handing me clumps of dirt/fur from the floor. I guess it's his subtle way of telling me to clean up.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;The other day I started to sing "If you're happy and you know it" and he started to pat my head. (verse 2 is "pat mom's head.")&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;He can High 5!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;He loves it when Joe makes silly noises.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;He laughed at a cartoon the other day. I was holding him while he was watching it and then all of a sudden, he started giggling.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;And last, but not least, my favorite recent memory. (I'm still laughing.) The other day, I undressed him in the bathroom right before I gave him a bath. Just as I took off his diaper, he ran out to the hallway and peed on the floor. While he was peeing, you could tell that he was really freaked out by it. As if to say, What is coming out of my body and why is it doing that? Then, he stepped in his pee, slipped and fell down. Obviously, he wasn't hurt, but it was pretty funny.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/756726782337400399-9129209470074542801?l=marshahowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/feeds/9129209470074542801/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=756726782337400399&amp;postID=9129209470074542801' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/9129209470074542801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/9129209470074542801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/2009/10/life-with-b.html' title='Life with B'/><author><name>Marsha Howell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07262607790180272033</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://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/Ste3x41-iTI/AAAAAAAAASE/7lRdHUizsgg/s72-c/100_1341.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-756726782337400399.post-7340302158801654190</id><published>2009-10-05T02:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-05T03:15:38.019-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Autumn Update</title><content type='html'>I know I am really behind on this.  Usually, if I don't write anything for a while, it is because nothing is going on.  However, our family is so busy right now, I barely have time for the basics.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ben is growing like a weed.   He's officially walking now and wants to do nothing else.  It is so wonderful to see him move on his own now.  He is a very sweet boy and frequently comes over to me just to give me a hug.  And even though he doesn't need me to walk him around anymore (Hooray!), he still takes my hand sometimes to make sure I am with him.  He also likes to play peekaboo with the doors in the house.  The other day he actually combined the two.  He took my hand and we walked into his room.  He went to hide behind his curtain even though I was still attached.  I had to laugh when I said, "Where is Benjamin?" since I was still holding his hand.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;However, Ben is sick right now.  I suspect another ear infection, which would be his third one since January.  So frustrating!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Joe is busy too.  He has been working a lot on his Masters class.  The point of the class is to do all the research for his thesis, a task he is not very excited about.  He has also volunteered to be a tour guide for the cathedral, which is also no easy task.  There is a class every week and a test at the end.  I'm actually quite jealous because he's getting to learn all of the history behind it.  Last week, I was able to go with him.  We got to walk around the cathedral with the architect of the cathedral and her husband who is also a scholar of the building.  They pointed out so many neat things.  It was like having a private tour.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm not sure how I've managed to fill up my calendar, but it feels as though I don't get a lot of free time.  Ben and I are always doing something or visiting someone.  I thought the pace of life would slow down once I stopped working.  I actually think I was less busy then.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/756726782337400399-7340302158801654190?l=marshahowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/feeds/7340302158801654190/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=756726782337400399&amp;postID=7340302158801654190' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/7340302158801654190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/7340302158801654190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/2009/10/autumn-update.html' title='Autumn Update'/><author><name>Marsha Howell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07262607790180272033</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-756726782337400399.post-6926039470434738759</id><published>2009-09-06T08:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-06T08:50:28.676-07:00</updated><title type='text'>September</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SqPaFZAX1NI/AAAAAAAAARs/OgjR1tSbh98/s1600-h/DSC01954.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SqPaFZAX1NI/AAAAAAAAARs/OgjR1tSbh98/s320/DSC01954.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378382166157153490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Well, time does seem to pass quickly.  Ben is now 13 months-old and has become quite the little explorer.  He still prefers to hold my hand while he walks, but he is also doing a lot of "cruising."  I suspect when he gets more confident he'll finally let go.  He seems to have inherited my wimpy tendenancies.  I suspect teaching him to ride a bike one day will be tricky.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Otherwise, life continues and manages to remain quite busy.  Here are some of the highlights:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1.  We shaved Bastian.  I'm pretty sure he hates us.  He really does look better with hair, but it was all matted and dirty from him being carsick.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SqPZz9WDIDI/AAAAAAAAARk/lq2VWyQoWRM/s320/DSC01952.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378381866674102322" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2.  Joe is taking a Masters class.  I haven't actually seen him study or anything, but that's what he says.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3.  Ben's new trick is barking like the dog.  Whenever he hears the dog, he starts saying "Wuh Wuh."  It took us awhile to realize what this was.  He also uses it for other animals, like horses.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4.  I'm taking Ben to a new class called Tumble Tots.  It's supposed to be a fun way to help with their motor skills.  They have all kinds of apparatuses for them to climb on.  It is nice because he can climb and walk over everything and I don't have to tell him no.  It was also nice because it wore him out.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/756726782337400399-6926039470434738759?l=marshahowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/feeds/6926039470434738759/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=756726782337400399&amp;postID=6926039470434738759' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/6926039470434738759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/6926039470434738759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/2009/09/september.html' title='September'/><author><name>Marsha Howell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07262607790180272033</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://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SqPaFZAX1NI/AAAAAAAAARs/OgjR1tSbh98/s72-c/DSC01954.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-756726782337400399.post-197275232489223618</id><published>2009-08-30T12:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-30T12:52:11.874-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ben's Check-Up at 12 Months</title><content type='html'>Last Monday was Ben's 12-month well-baby check-up.  12-months is a rough one.  There were five different shots and a finger prick to test for anemia.  The latter was especially not fun.  He was very upset so he was bleeding faster than normal.  A bandaid wasn't enough so they made him a little gauze mitten.  He was not a fan of either one!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He has grown a lot, but he hasn't gained much weight it seems.  He weighed 20 lb and 7 oz, just 3 oz more than when I brought him to the doctor at the end of March.  I didn't catch his height, but the tech said that he was in the 85th percentile for height and the 30th for weight.  The pediatrician wasn't worried though since his overall growth curve is normal.  Besides, Ben does not look skinny.  I almost wonder if their scale is right because he even has a little tummy.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Later on that evening, Ben made some more news.  He took his first steps!  Joe and I sat across from each other and made him walk back and forth to us.  He still can't go too far but he's getting braver (and steadier) every day.  He is also getting more skilled and pulling himself up and cruising around.  For example, this weekend we stayed at a cabin.  I was in the kitchen and Joe was playing with Benjamin in the living room.  I heard a noise and turned to see Ben standing there.  He had pulled himself up onto the coffee table, walked along the sofa and another table, and was holding onto the wall in the kitchen.  I was very surprised!  I was even more surprised when he did it a few more times.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/756726782337400399-197275232489223618?l=marshahowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/feeds/197275232489223618/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=756726782337400399&amp;postID=197275232489223618' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/197275232489223618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/197275232489223618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/2009/08/bens-check-up-at-12-months.html' title='Ben&apos;s Check-Up at 12 Months'/><author><name>Marsha Howell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07262607790180272033</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-756726782337400399.post-4635235508794624516</id><published>2009-08-15T03:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-15T03:31:27.143-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ben's Check-Up</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SoaNwLOJeII/AAAAAAAAARc/742q3-56W3U/s1600-h/DSC01707.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SoaNwLOJeII/AAAAAAAAARc/742q3-56W3U/s320/DSC01707.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370135464471263362" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, we made another trip to London for Ben's helmet.  It looks like there has been a lot of progress made.  He is now down to 15 mm of asymmetry.  (Originally, he was at 22.  Last appointment he was at 19.)  Joe and I thought it looked much more rounded, but we thought that we were just being optimistic.  It looks like he'll probably stop wearing it about the same time we head to the States so that is great news.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The trip to London was long and tiring, but it was also our best one yet.  Ben was very well behaved on the train to London.  After his appointment, we went to Joe's friend Henry's house in a neighborhood called Fulham.  Fulham is a fun area and is only about three or four tube stops from the clinic.  Ben took a nap and his lovely parents got to relax.  When he got up, we had dinner at Bodeen's, a tasty BBQ place.  Proper BBQ.  Yummy!  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Our little detour also meant that we were able to get on a later train back to Ely.  Usually, we are on the 5 or 6 pm train with all of the other commuters.  It is amazing the number of people who commute between London, Cambridge, and even further out.  But our train had only a few people so we had room to spread out.  We even had room to let Ben play on the floor for a while.  It was fairly late when we got back last night, but the joy of that is that Benjamin slept an hour later this morning.  All around, best visit to London so far and only two more to go!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;* Disclaimer: This picture is actually from our trip to Paris.  It was quite hot and around his bed time so his helmet was off.  He loves to hold onto the handles in the tube also.  So cute!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/756726782337400399-4635235508794624516?l=marshahowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/feeds/4635235508794624516/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=756726782337400399&amp;postID=4635235508794624516' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/4635235508794624516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/4635235508794624516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/2009/08/bens-check-up.html' title='Ben&apos;s Check-Up'/><author><name>Marsha Howell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07262607790180272033</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://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SoaNwLOJeII/AAAAAAAAARc/742q3-56W3U/s72-c/DSC01707.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-756726782337400399.post-5306196847850935877</id><published>2009-08-07T13:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-07T13:32:07.669-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ben's First Birthday</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SnyPMO-X7fI/AAAAAAAAARU/DgSfU2b0Ij0/s1600-h/DSC01630.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SnyPMO-X7fI/AAAAAAAAARU/DgSfU2b0Ij0/s320/DSC01630.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367322296259702258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Benjamin had his first birthday on Monday.  Joe was off from work so we did our best to make it a special day for him.  I decided against a birthday party, but I know he still really enjoyed everything we did.  I ordered two big balloons from the party store and put them on either side of his high chair like a cool throne.  (One was a number one.  The other was a rocket ship.)  He thoroughly enjoyed looking at them.  His friend Brooke came over and we all ate pizza.  Then came the moment we were all waiting for.  I gave him his "remote control" cake and stood back.  At first, he poked at it with his index finger.  But then he dove right in!  Ben got the cake everywhere, but he really seemed to like it.&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SnyO0oLTGHI/AAAAAAAAARM/dexuhuokbIw/s320/DSC01662.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367321890707937394" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After a few minutes, he got frustrated with the stickiness of the cake.  I cleaned him up as best as I could.  Time for presents!  Joe and I got him a Little People farm, as well as blocks, books, and a few odds and ends.  Ben and Brooke loved the farm!  It was so neat to watch him figure out his new toys.  He also throughly enjoyed the Duplo (big Lego) blocks his grandparents sent him.  Actually, I think Joe was pretty excited about them too.  He has enjoyed showing Ben how to take them apart and put them back together.    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SnyOWLZVBiI/AAAAAAAAARE/_8uIW0WNcGE/s320/DSC01676.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367321367586080290" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/756726782337400399-5306196847850935877?l=marshahowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/feeds/5306196847850935877/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=756726782337400399&amp;postID=5306196847850935877' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/5306196847850935877'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/5306196847850935877'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/2009/08/bens-first-birthday.html' title='Ben&apos;s First Birthday'/><author><name>Marsha Howell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07262607790180272033</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://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SnyPMO-X7fI/AAAAAAAAARU/DgSfU2b0Ij0/s72-c/DSC01630.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-756726782337400399.post-4754592256596669750</id><published>2009-07-31T13:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-31T14:00:00.902-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Big Week for the B-Bear</title><content type='html'>No...he still isn't walking so don't get that excited.  However, he has had a lot of big things this week.  Ben really is growing up.  Joe and I went to visit our friends the other day.  They just had a baby (or rather she did) so we brought them some food and a baby gift.  I had forgotten just how tiny they are and how newborns know absolutely nothing.  It made me realize how far we had come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyway, on Monday Benjamin said his first word.  It was "dog."  To be honest, I think he said it a week prior, but it did not register until later.  But this time I had a witness and the dog wasn't even Bastian.  I also think he may have said "kitty", but since I have no witnessess I won't count it.  I told Joe about it and, of course, he did not believe me.  Joe claimed he did not know what the word dog meant. So he asked Ben where the dog was.  Benjamin looked under the table at the dog.  I love that boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is also getting in his first molar.  That will be tooth #9.  Fortunately, he hasn't been too fussy.  The only reason I noticed it is because he had his mouth open screaming.  Apparently, getting one's diaper changed is very stressing. Maybe he could just learn to use the toilet then. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lastly, he is officially pulling up on things now.  He pulled up using the tub in the bathroom this morning.  I tried not to get too excited, but then he has done it several more times in different locations.  It wasn't just a fluke!!  I have also gotten a bit more relaxed on the tough love policy.  The truth is that if I walk him around more often, his confidence grows and he starts to test the boundaries.  However, if he gets into an uncomfortable position, he just screams and gives up.  I would much rather would leave him and see what he comes up with.  Unfortunately, what he has come up with is me.  It is actually kind of clever.  One day, he'll let go.  But today, he pulled up and I think I had something to do with that progression.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a different note, I bought Bastian a dog treat from the market.  He acts like he is sorely neglected so I thought this would cheer him up.  At the market, they sell all kinds of pig parts for dogs to chew on.  I thought I was doing a nice thing.  What a mistake!  I wasn't planning on it coming inside, but it started pouring so the dog (and the pig hoof) came inside.  The hallway stunk for the longest time!  It smells like what you think a dried pig's hoof would smell like...only six times worse.  Poor Bastian really loves it.  I feel so bad for kicking him out all the time.  I'm just glad I did not get the entire leg (yes, that is an option). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is a video of Ben.  He's crying because he can't get down from the stool.  I think you just click the play button icon on the picture. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-c8bf8495f68c8631" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v16.nonxt3.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dc8bf8495f68c8631%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331132295%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D2CB8FF7C10EAD7B7EAD63929C3C0953920FEFC47.1D707D1574A5F9F5A16F7AC4DC2F41877E7F67B1%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dc8bf8495f68c8631%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D9Ccur8usdQH5_HHRFHTRHl32oD8&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v16.nonxt3.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dc8bf8495f68c8631%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331132295%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D2CB8FF7C10EAD7B7EAD63929C3C0953920FEFC47.1D707D1574A5F9F5A16F7AC4DC2F41877E7F67B1%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dc8bf8495f68c8631%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D9Ccur8usdQH5_HHRFHTRHl32oD8&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/756726782337400399-4754592256596669750?l=marshahowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=c8bf8495f68c8631&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/feeds/4754592256596669750/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=756726782337400399&amp;postID=4754592256596669750' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/4754592256596669750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/4754592256596669750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/2009/07/big-week-for-b-bear.html' title='Big Week for the B-Bear'/><author><name>Marsha Howell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07262607790180272033</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-756726782337400399.post-1336578358321661021</id><published>2009-07-16T05:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-16T05:56:00.146-07:00</updated><title type='text'>New car seat</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/Sl8jVlwkXnI/AAAAAAAAAQs/QfZefg8uLto/s1600-h/DSC01544.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359040935414226546" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/Sl8jVlwkXnI/AAAAAAAAAQs/QfZefg8uLto/s320/DSC01544.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Big day for the B-man. No, he's not walking yet. However, he's still pretty pleased. Today, I installed his new car seat, facing forward. I had been wanting to do this for a while, but I waited until I got my car back. As you can tell from the picture, he looks pretty happy. Maybe this means the end of screaming everytime I put him in the car seat. To be fair, he had outgrown the other car seat. He looked a bit like a turtle with a shell that is too small.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/756726782337400399-1336578358321661021?l=marshahowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/feeds/1336578358321661021/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=756726782337400399&amp;postID=1336578358321661021' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/1336578358321661021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/1336578358321661021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/2009/07/new-car-seat.html' title='New car seat'/><author><name>Marsha Howell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07262607790180272033</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://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/Sl8jVlwkXnI/AAAAAAAAAQs/QfZefg8uLto/s72-c/DSC01544.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-756726782337400399.post-609915889494322488</id><published>2009-07-14T09:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-14T09:31:15.519-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Updates</title><content type='html'>Our family is always doing so much that I feel like a lot gets left out.  So I'm going to give you some recent highlights:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  Ben's helmet is apparently working.  At his last appointment, he was down to 19 mm of assymetry.  (He started at 22 mm.  Normal is 0-10 mm.)  The best part of the day was the BBQ restaurant we went to beforehand.  Nothing fancy, but the food was great.  Turns out, Ben likes brisket and spicy beans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  I got a new kitchen island for my birthday.  We had seen it at this fancy furniture store called Habitat.  (Think Crate and Barrel at UK prices.)  Joe and I both really liked it, but it was way too expensive.  However, the last time we went, the price was down 30%...just enough to be in the affordable range.  As luck would have it, the RAF owed Joe a large sum of money.  So half of that money went to my island and half went to paying off our plane tickets home.  Everybody wins!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  Joe got a bike seat for the B-man.  He LOVES it.  Apparently, the other day, he actually fell asleep in it.  Every time he takes him for a ride, I think Joe is a hero.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  My computer has found the internet again!  But the dishwasher is being funny...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.  Ben is working hard at being mobile.  He leans forward like a baby who crawls, but he still won't.  He gets on his tummy and yet he cannot go forward.  He is also trying very hard to stand up somehow.  I'm trying the "tough love" approach by trying to help less. Yesterday, we spent a lot of time in the grass.  We would be walking around and I would let go of his hands to see what he would do.  Mostly, he sits down because he doesn't want to fall.  He wants it so bad and unfortunately there is nothing I can do for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.  Ben's new trick: sharing...sort of.  He is always offering me his food or his toy, but of course he does not let go. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, now the bells are tolling, which means it is late.  I must go pick up the B-bear from school. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/756726782337400399-609915889494322488?l=marshahowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/feeds/609915889494322488/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=756726782337400399&amp;postID=609915889494322488' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/609915889494322488'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/609915889494322488'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/2009/07/updates.html' title='Updates'/><author><name>Marsha Howell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07262607790180272033</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-756726782337400399.post-7003403585758708814</id><published>2009-07-12T04:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-12T04:59:18.964-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Castle and Folk Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SlnMkKeDspI/AAAAAAAAAQk/BuW_tP23chE/s1600-h/DSC01509.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357538153391698578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SlnMkKeDspI/AAAAAAAAAQk/BuW_tP23chE/s320/DSC01509.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Yesterday, we took a trip to Framlingham Castle in Suffolk.  All that is left of the castle is the outer defensive wall, but it is still a beautiful site.  It was interesting to learn about the history and Ben seems to enjoy our trip to the English countryside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SlnMjo6V2nI/AAAAAAAAAQc/OyigoTSEyYY/s1600-h/DSC01511.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357538144383523442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SlnMjo6V2nI/AAAAAAAAAQc/OyigoTSEyYY/s320/DSC01511.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Inside the castle was a series of lawn games for people to play.  In addition to the chess game, they had Chutes and Ladders and some other game I couldn't identify.  Benjamin loved playing with the big chess pieces.  Joe and I played a quick game.  I won!  Joe contests it, but I think he is just a sore loser.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SlnK6Xl4t5I/AAAAAAAAAQM/kQivtY34If4/s1600-h/DSC01515.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357536335848060818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SlnK6Xl4t5I/AAAAAAAAAQM/kQivtY34If4/s320/DSC01515.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Yesterday was also Ely's Folk Festival.  Joe and I walked outside to the sight of people in strange outfits dancing with flags and such.  Ely is  great place for people watching.  The best part was the drunk onlookers who were trying to copy the dancers.  Very entertaining.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357535620808788370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SlnKQv3PSZI/AAAAAAAAAQE/ZsDOxs2lfqs/s320/DSC01501.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/756726782337400399-7003403585758708814?l=marshahowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/feeds/7003403585758708814/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=756726782337400399&amp;postID=7003403585758708814' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/7003403585758708814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/7003403585758708814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/2009/07/castle-and-folk-day.html' title='Castle and Folk Day'/><author><name>Marsha Howell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07262607790180272033</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://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SlnMkKeDspI/AAAAAAAAAQk/BuW_tP23chE/s72-c/DSC01509.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-756726782337400399.post-3878087919622279245</id><published>2009-07-02T13:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-02T13:47:23.176-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer in Ely</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/Sk0X4WMLGqI/AAAAAAAAAPc/iD8ew5nGRhE/s1600-h/DSC01421.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353961788810140322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/Sk0X4WMLGqI/AAAAAAAAAPc/iD8ew5nGRhE/s320/DSC01421.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Greetings everyone!  Summer is now in full bloom here in the UK.  Everyone I talk to seems to complain about the weather and the news is full of stories about the "heat wave."  The temperature has been in the 80s and while it certainly has been warm, I really wouldn't call it hot.  After all, it is summertime. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ben and I have been having a lot of picnics lately.  It can get a bit stuffy in the house, but the shade of the park is always quite nice, even in the early afternoon.  While I can't get him to eat pieces of fruit (only puree for me thanks!), I have discovered that he likes to gnaw on the cores.  Sometimes I think he just wants to eat like a proper adult.  He won't feed himself anything that isn't grain based.  I used to think he just didn't like the texture of actual fruit and vegetables, but then I realized that he will eat them off of a fork or spoon.  But I bet it is more of a case of laziness than proper table manners.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/Sk0X3mN23qI/AAAAAAAAAPU/f5lZo8MslMQ/s1600-h/DSC01410.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353961775932300962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/Sk0X3mN23qI/AAAAAAAAAPU/f5lZo8MslMQ/s320/DSC01410.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This picture is from a playground in Cambridge.  Joe got home early the other day so we decided to drive to Cambridge for a trip to the mall and dinner at Chili's (something we have not done since Thanksgiving).  Well, we were in for a surprise.  All the stores in the mall close at 5:30 pm!!  (Except on Wednesdays when they are open "late"...8 pm)  We strolled to Chili's to find that it had gone out of business.  I was so sad.  I had been planning out my dinner for a while at that point.  Plus, I was looking forward to an American family restaurant.  Family dining just isn't something they do here like they do back home.  So we found a Subway and wandered around aimlessly until we found this park.  At least Ben had a good time.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/Sk0X3JZLZxI/AAAAAAAAAPM/t9XLJYhqd-A/s1600-h/DSC01397.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353961768195155730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/Sk0X3JZLZxI/AAAAAAAAAPM/t9XLJYhqd-A/s320/DSC01397.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I had to put up at least one non-helmet picture.  He had an ear infection last week so we had to take off his helmet for a few days.  I forgot how cute he was!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/756726782337400399-3878087919622279245?l=marshahowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/feeds/3878087919622279245/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=756726782337400399&amp;postID=3878087919622279245' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/3878087919622279245'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/3878087919622279245'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/2009/07/summer-in-ely.html' title='Summer in Ely'/><author><name>Marsha Howell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07262607790180272033</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://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/Sk0X4WMLGqI/AAAAAAAAAPc/iD8ew5nGRhE/s72-c/DSC01421.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-756726782337400399.post-6215245270605630107</id><published>2009-06-20T07:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-20T07:15:39.445-07:00</updated><title type='text'>New Photos</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SjzurG_WOqI/AAAAAAAAAN8/sCgOBDh1s6w/s1600-h/DSC01388.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SjzurG_WOqI/AAAAAAAAAN8/sCgOBDh1s6w/s320/DSC01388.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349412881787402914" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is one of those rare moments where my internet is working, so I am going to use this time to update some pictures.  The two of Ben were taken last weekend.  We explored an old monastery in Norfolk and found a great pub.  The one of me and Joe is at the Habberdashers' Hall in London...before I got sick.  Enjoy!&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SjzuV3tFjGI/AAAAAAAAAN0/pEXQTK4U3x4/s320/DSC01372.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349412516907027554" /&gt;Helmet or not, that is one cute kid!  We all really enjoyed our picnic by the ruins.  Afterward, Ben enjoyed "walking" around.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SjzuVkq2ozI/AAAAAAAAANs/fT1nfsWjcIE/s320/DSC01387.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349412511797388082" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/756726782337400399-6215245270605630107?l=marshahowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/feeds/6215245270605630107/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=756726782337400399&amp;postID=6215245270605630107' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/6215245270605630107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/6215245270605630107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/2009/06/new-photos.html' title='New Photos'/><author><name>Marsha Howell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07262607790180272033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SjzurG_WOqI/AAAAAAAAAN8/sCgOBDh1s6w/s72-c/DSC01388.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-756726782337400399.post-6871283310009929272</id><published>2009-06-19T08:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-19T09:27:25.148-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Really Bad 24 Hours</title><content type='html'>Monday was a pretty special event for Joe and I...or at least it was supposed to be.  The Habberdashers, one of London's oldest guilds (est. 1371), was having an event in London and we were going to get to go.  These people are exactly what you might imagine old rich British high society to be.  They probably still fox hunt when they aren't throwing parties and giving away money to charity.  Needless to say we were very excited about going.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Habberdashers give money to Joe's squadron to help bring home individuals when they are deployed and a family situation comes up.  So they needed some people to show up on behalf of the squadron.  I rode the train to London with one of his squadron mates and then met Joe at the train station.  The plan was to grab a snack beforehand, go to the church service, and then back to the Habberdashers' Hall for a champagne reception and fancy hors d'oeuvres. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As soon as I got off the train, I started feeling queasy.  I was determined to shake it off and have a great time.  (Rub some dirt on it!)  However, about 2 minutes into the church service, it became clear that that was not an option.  The rest proceeded like a bad movie.  I excused myself to find a bathroom, but I had no idea where they were.  A man tried to help me, but the doors were locked.  While he went to find keys, the tunnel vision came and I realized I was not going to make it.  I ran out the doors and vomited all over the front of the church.  When I was finally done, the man guarding the door made me sit down on a bench and handed me an umbrella, as it had begun to rain.  I had never been so embarassed in my life.  I was really hoping the rain would wash me down the drain so I wouldn't have to face these people and their comments as they exited the church. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the service was over, we boarded busses back to the hall.  I began to feel better, but it was clear that my night was ruined.  I just wanted to go to bed.  I did force myself to drink about three sips of champagne on account of the fact that I figured it wasn't the cheap stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day I felt tired and weak.  Fortunately, it was Tuesday and Ben could go to nursery.  I dropped him off after his first nap and went home for a nap of my own.  Although I did begin to feel better, my afternoon got a lot worse.  On the way home from picking Ben up, I had a car accident.  I hit a car as I was trying to make a right hand turn. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was so awful.  Benjamin was crying, I was crying.  No one was seriously hurt, but I just felt so stunned.  Everyone around me was so kind, helpful, in control.  I could barely speak.  I kept feeling guilty, like I had been doing something careless.  But I hadn't been.  No speeding, no cell phone, no adjusting the radio.  It was just a bad intersection, with a bad blind spot.  I had actually been stopped for a while at the intersection waiting for an opening.  I just should have waited longer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm grateful for small miracles.  Joe was feeling sick and had come home early so he was nearby when I called.  He ran over and helped me handle the police and medical personnel (and entertain Benjamin, who by this point was feeling fine again).  I was so glad he was there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that it is Friday, I am feeling more positive about surviving the week.  I just really hope the worst is over.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/756726782337400399-6871283310009929272?l=marshahowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/feeds/6871283310009929272/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=756726782337400399&amp;postID=6871283310009929272' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/6871283310009929272'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/6871283310009929272'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/2009/06/really-bad-24-hours.html' title='A Really Bad 24 Hours'/><author><name>Marsha Howell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07262607790180272033</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-756726782337400399.post-1996802501580629018</id><published>2009-06-01T13:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-01T13:56:54.619-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Trip to the Pool</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SiRAftFhfyI/AAAAAAAAANk/qJoPlPs4htg/s1600-h/100_1231.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SiRAftFhfyI/AAAAAAAAANk/qJoPlPs4htg/s320/100_1231.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342465971391135522" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I took Benjamin to the pool for the first time today.  He really enjoys his bath so I figured he would really enjoy the pool.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;His first impression of the pool was not good.  We got in the shower according to pool regulations, but water flew out like a fire hose and scared him.  I really thought we had failed before we had even begun, but he warmed up to it.  I carried him out to a deeper end and let him bob around for a moment.  Ben seemed a bit skeptical, but then started splashing.  And that was it!  He completely loved it.  The pool was quite shallow all around so it was easy for me to play with him.  There were whirlpool jets coming up off the floor.  I thought they might scare him, but he just liked the bubbles.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SiRAC9V-qPI/AAAAAAAAANc/p5ReFgil7Uo/s320/100_1247.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342465477538916594" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What he enjoyed the most was floating around in a yellow baby seat.  The only problem was that it was not community property.  It belonged to the other baby and his family.  Oops.  But they were very nice about it.  I guess I will just have to get him one of his own.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/756726782337400399-1996802501580629018?l=marshahowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/feeds/1996802501580629018/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=756726782337400399&amp;postID=1996802501580629018' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/1996802501580629018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/1996802501580629018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/2009/06/trip-to-pool.html' title='Trip to the Pool'/><author><name>Marsha Howell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07262607790180272033</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://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SiRAftFhfyI/AAAAAAAAANk/qJoPlPs4htg/s72-c/100_1231.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-756726782337400399.post-7830718034456449548</id><published>2009-05-26T13:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-26T14:03:33.408-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ben is a Big Boy</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/ShxYipXwc1I/AAAAAAAAANU/lSvsUd1WMj8/s1600-h/Big+boy+PJs.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/ShxYipXwc1I/AAAAAAAAANU/lSvsUd1WMj8/s320/Big+boy+PJs.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340240610398860114" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As Ben gets closer to that first birthday, Joe and I are just astounded at how much he is changing.  Suddenly, our baby isn't one at all.  He has magically morphed into a little boy and is just so neat to behold.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He has gone through a lot of "firsts" lately.  None of them are big, but they are there and remind me that he is growing all the time.  Some of them are imposed by us, like his first happy meal, latte, and ice cream cone.  (I'm pretty sure none of those were my idea.)  Others are all him.  He says "Da Da" for everything and has become very skilled at drinking from a cup.  He can now move forwards in his walker and has figured out how to open the kitchen cabinets.  Miraculously, he hasn't broken anything.  I guess he is saving that for when he can walk.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/ShxYMKAk3dI/AAAAAAAAANM/olJP_eV3noU/s320/so+this+is+a+happy+mea!.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340240224023010770" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And of course, there are the "firsts" that are imposed from outside sources.  I picked him up from nursery to learn that he had drawn his first picture, a beetle.  Nursery has also given him the gift of his first pinkeye and his first red bodily rash.  (No, it isn't the chicken pox or the measles.  He seems to be feeling better so we'll see.)  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm learning the parenthood is bittersweet.  My heart swelled with pride this morning when he learned to roll the ball to me.  Yet, this afternoon, I got a little sad when I had to buy him big boy pajamas.  I suspect the 60 years will feel much the same way.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/756726782337400399-7830718034456449548?l=marshahowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/feeds/7830718034456449548/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=756726782337400399&amp;postID=7830718034456449548' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/7830718034456449548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/7830718034456449548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/2009/05/ben-is-big-boy.html' title='Ben is a Big Boy'/><author><name>Marsha Howell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07262607790180272033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/ShxYipXwc1I/AAAAAAAAANU/lSvsUd1WMj8/s72-c/Big+boy+PJs.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-756726782337400399.post-8115464419129812816</id><published>2009-05-24T13:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-24T15:08:33.940-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bristol, Bath, and Stonehenge</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/ShnDuoVzhDI/AAAAAAAAANE/sde3lJqhqz8/s1600-h/DSC01223.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339514039094707250" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/ShnDuoVzhDI/AAAAAAAAANE/sde3lJqhqz8/s320/DSC01223.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am now relaxing after a tiring but fantastic holiday weekend. Friday afternoon, the Howell clan packed up the car and headed west. England's southwest section is really well known and for good reason. We focused our time on the cities of Bath and Bristol. Both cities are Amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Originally, our plan was to spend all of our time in Bath. However, we could not find a place to stay so we had to branch out. (That's what happens when you don't look until the Thursday before a holiday weekend.) Joe Sr. found a two-bedroom apartment in Bristol so we happily booked it. To be honest, I wasn't overly optimistic. I thought it might be a little run down or on the outskirts of town. But it was amazing. It was right in the middle of the downtown area, which has a harbor and tons of restaurants and bars. The apartment itself was brand new and very spacious. Two bedrooms, two and a half baths, living room, kitchen, and a balcony. Granted, the elevator was out of order this morning when we needed to check out, but since I wasn't the one carrying the luggage, I didn't think of it as a big deal.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/ShnDJWKg2EI/AAAAAAAAAM8/OUE5_orsjLQ/s1600-h/DSC01270.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339513398560348226" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/ShnDJWKg2EI/AAAAAAAAAM8/OUE5_orsjLQ/s320/DSC01270.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We spent Saturday afternoon in Bath, which is definitely not enough to do it justice. Bristol was bombed heavily in WWII and has since taken on a modern feel. However Bath feels old and beautiful. If you've ever seen the old Pride and Prejudice miniseries, Bath is where it was filmed. We toured the Roman bath ruins, which give the city its name. Apparently, when the Romans ruled England, they had a large bath and temple complex there. Joe Sr. kept wondering where it all went since the remaining ruins are quite small. I guess the ancient Britons were adept at recycling and they used stones to make other buildings. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This morning, we all piled back in the car and headed for Stonehenge. We knew it wasn't something we would make a special trip for, but since we were out there, we took the tour. It was neat to learn about what they think the stones were used for, but I would agree with my friends. Not exactly something I would drive 3 hours just to see.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Benjamin did very well all weekend. He is such a little trooper.  I'm always a little anxious whenever we take trips because I hate to remove him from his routine.  But he continuously surprises me and makes me so proud.  I have a great boy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/756726782337400399-8115464419129812816?l=marshahowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/feeds/8115464419129812816/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=756726782337400399&amp;postID=8115464419129812816' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/8115464419129812816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/8115464419129812816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/2009/05/bristol-bath-and-stonehenge.html' title='Bristol, Bath, and Stonehenge'/><author><name>Marsha Howell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07262607790180272033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/ShnDuoVzhDI/AAAAAAAAANE/sde3lJqhqz8/s72-c/DSC01223.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-756726782337400399.post-3319167465071398273</id><published>2009-05-20T12:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T13:04:46.736-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Off to London for a Helmet</title><content type='html'>First off, I just want to apologize for slacking off lately.  Life has been quite busy, which has left me little time to write, ironic since I have a lot to tell you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, Joe, Lorre, and I took Ben to London.  Unfortunately, we were not there to sightsee.  Ben's head is quite flat on one side.  After months of "repositioning" (keeping him off his head), the time has come to get him a helmet.  The first time I ever heard of babies wearing helmets, I nearly laughed my butt off.  I'm pretty sure it would have fallen off when I saw the pictures, but it suddenly gets a lot less funny when it is your kid. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, so we took him to the clinic to have him assessed and fitted for a helmet.  As a side note, our insurance does not cover any cost related to the helmet since they think it is cosmetic.  That whole issue is such garbage.  If one side of his head is pushed in, then one side of his face gets pushed out.  Eventually, the face is disfigured.  (Think Sloth from the Goonies.)  That is not cosmetic!  We are fortunate that our savings can cover it, but what about the other families?  Their children don't deserve to be odd looking because their parents don't have enough money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the appointment, Ben had his first Happy Meal from McDonald's.  Big day for a wee Boy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/756726782337400399-3319167465071398273?l=marshahowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/feeds/3319167465071398273/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=756726782337400399&amp;postID=3319167465071398273' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/3319167465071398273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/3319167465071398273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/2009/05/off-to-london-for-helmet.html' title='Off to London for a Helmet'/><author><name>Marsha Howell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07262607790180272033</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-756726782337400399.post-3454819590003410005</id><published>2009-05-08T03:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T03:38:18.715-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Spain/Visitors</title><content type='html'>I really hope that spring in England isn't over.  April was so beautiful.  Nearly everyday was sunny and warm (English warm, not Florida warm).  The last few days have been overcast and cool.  I guess Ben and I won't be playing outside today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These last few weeks have been really busy.  Right after my last post, I went to Barcelona with some ladies from Lakenheath.  I only knew one of them initially, but I figured a girls weekend in Spain sounded fun.  Although I love Barcelona, I have to admit that it wasn't the best time.  For starters, we left early Saturday morning and came back Sunday afternoon.  That is just way too much traveling in such a short time.  I was so tired by the time I got back.  Also, the trip was quite bittersweet.  Everyone else's husbands were gone so they had no one at home anyway.  But mine was home and he was with my baby.  Weekends are precious.  I don't always see Joe much during the week so I really look forward to Saturday and Sunday.  I feel like an ingrate for saying this, but I think I would have rather stayed home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last Sunday, Joe's parents flew in.  They stayed here a few days before heading to Morocco for a 10-day tour.  Joe and I really want to take a tour, but I told them they had to work out the bugs first.  They will be back just in time for Ben's christening.  Meanwhile, my folks get here Thursday.  (My mom is already packed.)  I am really looking forward to seeing them, but I admit I am bummed they can't stay longer.  There are so many things I want to show them, but there simply isn't enough time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/756726782337400399-3454819590003410005?l=marshahowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/feeds/3454819590003410005/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=756726782337400399&amp;postID=3454819590003410005' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/3454819590003410005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/3454819590003410005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/2009/05/spainvisitors.html' title='Spain/Visitors'/><author><name>Marsha Howell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07262607790180272033</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-756726782337400399.post-1610679307240967532</id><published>2009-04-24T08:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-24T08:47:25.256-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy St George's Day</title><content type='html'>Yesterday was St George's Day, which is apparently England's national day.  (St George is the patron saint of England, as well as several other countries, including Palestine.  That is if you believe Palestine to be a country.)  I don't really think anyone cared, though.  No parades or celebrations, and certainly not a day off.  If it weren't for a sign in the local card shop and the flag above the cathedral, I would not have even known about it.  Rather disappointing for a national holiday.&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SfHes0Pb8bI/AAAAAAAAAMs/A5SAM7JnBIU/s320/DSC01068.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328284695675007410" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But today, more importantly, is Friday.  Despite the fact that I know longer get proper weekends, I still really enjoy Friday.  There is still the anticipatory feeling of something great just ahead.  No real reason.  Usually my Saturdays and Sundays are no more interesting than the rest of the week. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today has been no exception.  The weather has been gorgeous, so I took the B-man for a stroll.  We walked behind the cathedral and ended up next to the horse paddock.  Typically, there are three horses. (Horses might be a strong term as they are a bit small.  I suspect them to be large ponies.)  However, since it is spring, there are two foals there as well.  One of the adults and one of the foals were near the fence so I parked the stroller there and took Ben out to show him the horses.  The foal immediately trotted over to us in a way that clearly stated that it was a creature that was new and innocent to the world.  "No one would ever hurt me and everyone is here to pet me," and so forth.  Ben was certainly intrigued by them.  I helped him pet them, but I think the combination of baby human and baby horse is not a good one.  The foal was a little overeager and kept lifting her lips in the way that horses do.  She nibbled his little fingers and he started screaming.  I immediately confirmed he was uninjured, but I kept thinking, "Great.  Now he has a fear of ponies."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;During his nap, Joe phoned to say that he would be flying over Ely this afternoon if we wanted to go outside and watch.  Maybe take a picture or two.  Now, clearly, I don't care much for planes and I kinda doubt Ben knows what they are, but I wanted to be supportive.  Apparently, our best bet was to go to this business park just outside of town between 2:30 and 2:45.  Since it was a beautiful day, we trotted out there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I must admit I felt incredibly sketchy and I kept rehearsing the story in my head for when I was questioned by the security people.  (No, I have no business being here.  You see, my husband is in the RAF and he wanted me to look at his airplane.  I really don't understand it either.  Just wait a minute.  I'm sure we'll see him.)  Of course, we never did see him.  But all was not lost.  Benjamin appeared to enjoy our picnic.  He liked touching the grass, which I am sure has never been tainted by pesticide or animal dung.  In fact, we were actually having a nice time until I decided to put his sunglasses on him.  In his quest to rip them off his head, he lost his balance and fell backwards.  Loud crying ensued.  Great.  Make that a fear of baby ponies &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;and &lt;/span&gt;sunglasses.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/756726782337400399-1610679307240967532?l=marshahowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/feeds/1610679307240967532/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=756726782337400399&amp;postID=1610679307240967532' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/1610679307240967532'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/1610679307240967532'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/2009/04/happy-st-georges-day.html' title='Happy St George&apos;s Day'/><author><name>Marsha Howell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07262607790180272033</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://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SfHes0Pb8bI/AAAAAAAAAMs/A5SAM7JnBIU/s72-c/DSC01068.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-756726782337400399.post-944116269429675080</id><published>2009-04-22T05:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-22T05:56:33.972-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Joe is Home</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/Se8T-XMMV-I/AAAAAAAAAMc/uCFJXQIGbm0/s1600-h/DSC01051.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/Se8T-XMMV-I/AAAAAAAAAMc/uCFJXQIGbm0/s320/DSC01051.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327498846300559330" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ugghh...what a morning.  Benjamin had an 1130 doctor's appointment, which meant NO nap.  Very bad for everyone indeed.  He did manage to doze off for 20 minutes on the way there, but that was like putting a band-aid on a gaping chest wound.  He was manageable during the exam visit, but by the time we went for x-rays, he was very unhappy.  Head x-rays + tired + taking away his bottle several times to do head x-rays = SCREAMING baby.  I honestly can't remember the last time I saw his scream like that.  Maybe never.  I kept trying to explain to the technician that he was just tired, but I could tell he felt really bad.  Apparently, he has a 22-month-old.  She only weighs 3 more pounds than Ben.  My baby's a porker.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, Joe is home for good now.  (At least until he deploys.)  He got home Friday night, which was a nice little surprise.  I was doing my best not to get excited on Friday.  After all, it is a long drive and I totally would have understood if he had stopped somewhere.  So when Bastian started barking on Friday, I thought, "There's no way."  The sun was still up for Pete's sake.  But it was him.  Yay!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It has been great having him home.  We had a brilliant weekend.  Saturday, we drove to Bury St Edmunds and hung out with our friend Angelina.  We knew both her and her husband Travis at Seymour.  Since he was TDY, we thought we would keep her company.  We all walked around the market and the cathedral gardens.  Their cathedral was sacked a long time ago, but they have managed to turn the ruins into a lovely outdoor space.  It is a really lovely place to eat ice cream, which we did.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sunday, my boys (Bastian included) and I went down by the river and had lunch at the Cutter, which is one of our favorite pubs.  We found a great table outside and soaked in the good weather.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yesterday will always be a fond memory.  When Joe got home from work, we put the baby in his stroller, grabbed the dog, and headed for the park.  We laid down a blanket and had some great family time.  It seems like such an ordinary thing, but the entire time I kept thinking, "&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;This&lt;/span&gt; is why we came here."  We would have never be doing anything like that if we had stayed at Seymour.  I will always have that memory.  Joe and I taking turns chasing the dog around.  Ben laughing at Joe.  The horses with their new foals in front of a 900-year-old cathedral.  That is good stuff.  I have a &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;very&lt;/span&gt; good life.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/756726782337400399-944116269429675080?l=marshahowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/feeds/944116269429675080/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=756726782337400399&amp;postID=944116269429675080' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/944116269429675080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/944116269429675080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/2009/04/joe-is-home.html' title='Joe is Home'/><author><name>Marsha Howell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07262607790180272033</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://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/Se8T-XMMV-I/AAAAAAAAAMc/uCFJXQIGbm0/s72-c/DSC01051.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-756726782337400399.post-1829805969146968290</id><published>2009-04-15T14:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-15T14:57:19.585-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Easter!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SeZX6RCxEQI/AAAAAAAAAMU/dijFmgKka5E/s1600-h/DSC01023.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SeZX6RCxEQI/AAAAAAAAAMU/dijFmgKka5E/s320/DSC01023.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325040267931226370" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SeZWLfyEBQI/AAAAAAAAAME/uEXJiFWPsDg/s320/DSC01022.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325038364922217730" /&gt;Easter weekend was just really wonderful.  Joe had a 4-day weekend, so he flew home Thursday night.  I must say, Easter in England is a much bigger deal.  The schools are off for 2 weeks so everywhere is filled with kids and families.  They don't have Peeps, but they do have hot cross buns, which I actually think I like more.  Instead of chocolate bunnies, they have big chocolate eggs.  And to answer your question, we did not let Benjamin eat that big Cadbury egg.  It was intended for me and Joe, but Bastian ate most of it.  Truth be told, he ate most of those Peter Rabbit cookies too. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Although we did not hide eggs, I did take Benjamin to the Easter Fair where they were doing an egg hunt.  As you can see, he had a great time.  The girl next to Ben is his friend Brooke.  She doesn't miss much.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SeZWiJ8uF1I/AAAAAAAAAMM/kM9D5cpgBOw/s320/DSC00970.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325038754198329170" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/756726782337400399-1829805969146968290?l=marshahowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/feeds/1829805969146968290/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=756726782337400399&amp;postID=1829805969146968290' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/1829805969146968290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/1829805969146968290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/2009/04/happy-easter.html' title='Happy Easter!'/><author><name>Marsha Howell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07262607790180272033</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://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SeZX6RCxEQI/AAAAAAAAAMU/dijFmgKka5E/s72-c/DSC01023.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-756726782337400399.post-691459700597692076</id><published>2009-04-07T07:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-07T07:36:56.302-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ben's First Day at Nursery</title><content type='html'>One of the really nice things about someone else watching your child (apart from the obvious) is that they see things you may not notice.  For example, when I picked him up from Pauline's yesterday, she commented that he scratches the sides of his pack and play when she lays him down for a nap.  When she no longer hears the scratching, she knows he is asleep.&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, today was Benjamin's first day at nursery.  And although he was there for only an hour (it was an introductory visit to get him acquainted), he still made quite an impression.  When I arrived to pick him up, he was passed out like a ragdoll in the girl's arms.  I just sighed, partly because I hated to wake him up and partly because I felt a little guilty.  I &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;never &lt;/span&gt;cuddle him to sleep and he probably rather enjoys it.  &lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The other caregiver quickly informed me that he just had a 7-ounce bottle.  Huh?  There was no way he could be hungry.  I nursed him and fed him his lunch not that long ago.  Apparently, B-man was happy as a clam, playing with the toys, until the other babies got their bottles.  Then , he just wailed as if the world was coming to an end.  How dare they get their milk and I get nothing?  So, they gave him a bottle.  Happy as a clam again.&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I wonder what tomorrow's adventure will be.  He goes for three hours then.  :)&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/756726782337400399-691459700597692076?l=marshahowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/feeds/691459700597692076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=756726782337400399&amp;postID=691459700597692076' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/691459700597692076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/691459700597692076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/2009/04/bens-first-day-at-nursery.html' title='Ben&apos;s First Day at Nursery'/><author><name>Marsha Howell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07262607790180272033</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-756726782337400399.post-7766450371925908116</id><published>2009-04-05T06:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-05T06:54:45.085-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Not-so-Groundhog Day</title><content type='html'>Although I often feel like I live in a "Groundhog Day" atmosphere, I am forced to realize that everyday has its own little eccentricities.  Each week has its own series of moments and events that make it unique.  It is through these small happenings that the fabric of our life is woven.  I thought I would take the time to share with you some of mine.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1.  &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bastian made a little girl cry.  &lt;/span&gt;This was by far one of the funniest.  Right before you get to the Palace Green (where he usually does his business), there is a public bathroom.  Just as Bastian was trotting by, a little girl ran out of the doorway and almost into the dog.  He looked at her and kept going.  She ran back into the bathroom, screaming in terror.  All I could here was sobbing and then her mother saying, "Que mal?  Que mal?" (What's wrong?  What's wrong?)  Then I heard her mom say, "Un perro?" (a dog?).  I thought about trying to explain the situation, but then thought better of it.  Bastian had done nothing wrong.  Plus, I was too busy laughing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ben tries to give me kisses...I think.&lt;/span&gt;  This was a very sweet moment.  I was holding him.  He was climbing all over me.  He kept smiling and putting his open mouth on my cheek.  It tickled, so it made me laugh, which made him laugh.  That's one to keep with you I think.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3.  &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Burger King with Ben.&lt;/span&gt;  Ahh, his first value meal.  The King would be proud.  After his first doctor's appointment of the week, I ran to the post office and checked the mail.  You could tell he was tired of being in his car seat, so I really didn't feel like putting him back in the car.  And well, I could always use a snack.  I scooped him up and we went to Burger King.  I put him in the high chair and we shared chicken tenders and onion rings.  The man behind the counter even gave him a fire truck.  It was just really nice. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4.  &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Parenting Advice.&lt;/span&gt;  Now this one made me feel pretty good.  This morning, I met my lovely neighbors Joe and Minh for coffee.  They brought their daughter Brooke, who is about five and half months-old.  Minh was talking about giving Brooke crackers and rice cakes, an idea she got from me.  Then she said that she has gotten good parenting advice from me.  That made me feel wonderful, especially because they are a lot older than me.  I do contribute to society!  I am not a waste of space!  Though I did want to giggle when they asked me how I knew if Ben had a temperature.  (I checked it with a thermometer.)  What makes this very funny is that Joe is a PA and she used to be a dentist.  Way more medical training than me!  But of course, I freaked out the first few times I had to do it.  I am in NO way judging.  It is only funny when it is happening to someone else.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And that is my week.  Time to go rest up for this next one.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/756726782337400399-7766450371925908116?l=marshahowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/feeds/7766450371925908116/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=756726782337400399&amp;postID=7766450371925908116' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/7766450371925908116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/7766450371925908116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/2009/04/not-so-groundhog-day.html' title='Not-so-Groundhog Day'/><author><name>Marsha Howell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07262607790180272033</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-756726782337400399.post-438570023355892853</id><published>2009-04-01T14:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-01T15:02:36.299-07:00</updated><title type='text'>April is Here</title><content type='html'>Since I ate too many M&amp;amp;Ms and am wide awake from sugar (Thanks Lorre!), I thought I'd fill you in with what is going on here.  Well, first off, it's hard to believe it is now April.  It is starting to feel like spring, which is really nice after the harsh English winter.  Equally nice is the fact that Joe should be home in a few weeks.  I am really hoping for the week after Easter, but I am not getting my hopes too high.  Regardless, he will be home sooner than later and that is Good News!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On a less happier front, Ben has been under the weather this week.  I have taken him to the doctor twice, with zero results.  He had a low grade fever, but when it shot up to 102.7 I got worried.  It has since come down so no worries there.  However, he is still fussy and appears to be in pain.  I think it is his teeth.  He had two coming in as of last week.  One is definitely through now, but that second one has been just poking through for a while.  Maybe tomorrow morning will bring a happier boy and a shiny new tooth.  They do seem to appear overnight.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And lastly, Bastian had a little accident today.  I let him go ahead of me since it is hard to push the stroller and hold onto him at the same time.  He ran out onto the busy street and got nicked by a car coming to the red light.  The vet thinks he should be okay, but they are holding him overnight to be sure.   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;APRIL FOOLS!!  Bastian is just fine, though he really did run off the other day.  I had no clue where he was until I saw him trotting down St Mary's Street, the busy road by our house.  He is a VERY lucky dog.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/756726782337400399-438570023355892853?l=marshahowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/feeds/438570023355892853/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=756726782337400399&amp;postID=438570023355892853' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/438570023355892853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/438570023355892853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/2009/04/april-is-here.html' title='April is Here'/><author><name>Marsha Howell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07262607790180272033</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-756726782337400399.post-1836625324114998267</id><published>2009-03-27T07:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-27T08:29:40.069-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Back in Ely</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/ScznohLGn2I/AAAAAAAAALk/V_R3y7vIkLY/s1600-h/DSC00920.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/ScznohLGn2I/AAAAAAAAALk/V_R3y7vIkLY/s320/DSC00920.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317879943303438178" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Now that we are back in Ely, Benjamin and I are doing our best to keep busy.  It's been nice to see our friends again and I think Ben enjoys seeing other children.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Benjamin is doing really well.  He &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;finally &lt;/span&gt;has mastered the art of rolling from his tummy to his back.  In fact, when I tried to give him tummy time today, he started rolling over before he was all the way on the floor.  Still no progress moving forward, but I'm sure it is only a matter of time.  I try not to fuss about his motor skills.  He'll run around one day.  I was quite happy though when Sue, the woman from Early Intervention, said that he was very vocal and social.  That makes a ton of sense.  From what I understand, both Joe and I were quite verbal children, though we may not have been stars athletically.  (Yes, I still walk like a penguin.)  And Ben seems to have inherited Joe's love of the limelight.  Everytime I have brought him to a playgroup this week, he has squealed and babbled non-stop as if to say "Look at me!  Look at me!"  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Speaking of talking, Ben has started to make consonant sounds.  I never would have thought of that as a milestone until I read it in a book and realized that none of his sounds had any consonant sounds.  While we were in Lossiemouth, he started the "B" noise, but now has many more.  It probably helps that I've started making these noises when he screams.  I was getting nowhere by telling him "No", so I asked Sue for any advice.  She said to make noises at him and see if he will copy me.  He doesn't exactly copy me, but it has gotten him to stop screaming for fun.  I guess the point is that he has found a sound he can make and wants to try out his new skill.  Just give him a skill that does not give Mummy a headache.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sorry if all of my news is Ben related.  I spend 90% of my time on him so expect lots of healthy observations of my beautiful boy.  However, I am doing my best to reclaim some Marsha time.  I am going to start attending an adult beginning ballet class.  I am actually very excited about this.  My plan is to get a babysitter, take myself to a nice dinner, and then hit my ballet class.  I took one ballet class in college.  I remember in being difficult, but I would love to increase my grace and flexibility.  Plus, my feet naturally fall into first position anyway so I am bound to be quite talented.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Additionally, I have been working on some projects here at home...namely the house itself.  We have so much stuff crammed into a small space and it simply isn't working.  I am purging and organizing.  I am hoping to have a lot done by the time Joe is done with his training.  Yesterday, I got some great motivation.  I made $25 at the base thrift store!  So I am going to continue to sort through our junk.  Let's hope I make a ton more money. :)  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/756726782337400399-1836625324114998267?l=marshahowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/feeds/1836625324114998267/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=756726782337400399&amp;postID=1836625324114998267' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/1836625324114998267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/1836625324114998267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/2009/03/back-in-ely.html' title='Back in Ely'/><author><name>Marsha Howell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07262607790180272033</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://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/ScznohLGn2I/AAAAAAAAALk/V_R3y7vIkLY/s72-c/DSC00920.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-756726782337400399.post-3240668852027995128</id><published>2009-03-19T07:53:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-19T07:56:34.209-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mother's Day Present</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/ScJcyTamngI/AAAAAAAAALc/RZd-1NwwEU4/s1600-h/DSC00891.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314912529525677570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/ScJcyTamngI/AAAAAAAAALc/RZd-1NwwEU4/s320/DSC00891.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This Sunday is Mother'sDay in the UK.  As you can tell by the picture, Benjamin is so sad that he was only able to get me this cookie.  He said his favorite mum deserved so much more.  Isn't he sweet!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/756726782337400399-3240668852027995128?l=marshahowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/feeds/3240668852027995128/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=756726782337400399&amp;postID=3240668852027995128' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/3240668852027995128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/3240668852027995128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/2009/03/mothers-day-present.html' title='Mother&apos;s Day Present'/><author><name>Marsha Howell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07262607790180272033</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://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/ScJcyTamngI/AAAAAAAAALc/RZd-1NwwEU4/s72-c/DSC00891.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-756726782337400399.post-1007868423383491567</id><published>2009-03-18T14:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-18T14:57:22.481-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Typical Wednesday</title><content type='html'>Well, today was a lovely ordinary day.  Since Joe is working nights (no, the irony is not lost on me), we spent some time together this morning.  That is always bittersweet since I know I won't get any time with him in the evening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After Ben's first nap, we drove to Elgin to visit the library.  The children's section of any public library has got to be one of the best inventions in modern history.  (At least it is if you are a stay-at-home mum)  It's free, has fun funiture to climb on, and full of books your child has not read.  Ben seemed to really enjoy it.  He especially enjoyed flirting with the little girl who was also there.  I swear that boy truly thinks he is a ladies man.  And maybe he is.  What do I know...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After nap #2, I finally took him to the local park.  I've been meaning to for the last week and have only now gotten around to it.  He still not sure what to make of the slide or the bouncy horse, but the baby swings are a big hit.  Ben seemed quite relaxed as he swinged. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we got back, I put him on his tummy for some forced tummy time.  And although  he wasn't thrilled, he did put up with it for a decent amount of time.  Bastian was on the floor next to him, which was perfect.  Ben loves the dog and wants nothing more than to go after him.  He tried to scoot towards him and even though he didn't exactly move forward, he wanted to and that is huge.  He even managed to change his direction a bit.  Maybe he will crawl one day...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/756726782337400399-1007868423383491567?l=marshahowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/feeds/1007868423383491567/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=756726782337400399&amp;postID=1007868423383491567' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/1007868423383491567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/1007868423383491567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/2009/03/typical-wednesday.html' title='Typical Wednesday'/><author><name>Marsha Howell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07262607790180272033</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-756726782337400399.post-8784030088883763917</id><published>2009-03-17T06:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-17T07:23:59.060-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Life in Lossie</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314161683254678738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/Sb-x5TFjFNI/AAAAAAAAALU/4j61XppgtAY/s320/DSC00818.JPG" border="0" /&gt; On Friday, Joe and I will pile our little family into our big American car and head back to reality. I am not looking forward to that. I have enjoyed the last week and half so much and I hate to see it end. &lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314158375531482706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/Sb-u4w24jlI/AAAAAAAAALM/KUl_JVHE77k/s320/DSC00847.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Our time in Lossiemouth has been so peaceful. I'm sure a large part of that is that we are all together. But we're also together in a lovely little beach cottage in a very laid back area of the world. Everyone individually has something to make them happy about this place. Ben has both parents to dote on him. Plus, he seems to enjoy our trips to Tesco. Joe's work is painful, but I know he's happy to be flying again. And he's made some great new friends. So Family + Friends + Flying = Happy Joe. Bastian gets to run amuk on the beach every morning without a leash. As for me, well I have my family all together. But also, Bastian's walks are just as much for me. It's beautiful scenery and so relaxing. (Except, of course, when he's found a dead sea gull to play with.) I hope that when I get to heaven, there is a dog beach. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/Sb-qI7rkdzI/AAAAAAAAAK8/k6zoIEPHGvk/s1600-h/DSC00870.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314153155756586802" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/Sb-qI7rkdzI/AAAAAAAAAK8/k6zoIEPHGvk/s320/DSC00870.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And of course, Scotland is great. I would love to bring Ben back in a few years because I'm sure he would get such a kick out of it. You can't spit without hitting a castle and what little boy wouldn't love that. To be fair, Joe and I think that's pretty cool and we're obviously much older. Plus, there is a lot to do if you enjoy the great outdoors. They have a law here that most land is available for the public to explore even if it is someone's private property. You just have to respect it. (That would never work in America) But there are lots of great hills to climb and forrests to run around. Perfect for a little boy with energy to expend. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We have enjoyed exploring too. Including the one at Loch Ness, we saw three castles last week. Of course, they are all in ruins, but it's fun to imagine what they looked like. My favorite one was Duffus Castle. It's very close by. It's also surrounded by farming fields so there weren't very many people. It felt like our own little castle to explore. Ben seemed to enjoy it, but I think the one who enjoyed it the most was Bastian. The castle is surrounded by a moat so we didn't have to worry about him running off. We just let him off the leash and let him run. Heaven!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/756726782337400399-8784030088883763917?l=marshahowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/feeds/8784030088883763917/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=756726782337400399&amp;postID=8784030088883763917' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/8784030088883763917'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/8784030088883763917'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/2009/03/life-in-lossie.html' title='Life in Lossie'/><author><name>Marsha Howell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07262607790180272033</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://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/Sb-x5TFjFNI/AAAAAAAAALU/4j61XppgtAY/s72-c/DSC00818.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-756726782337400399.post-8098596635417144204</id><published>2009-03-09T03:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-09T04:38:24.107-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Arival in Scotland/Loch Ness</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SbT-lHnXc5I/AAAAAAAAAK0/cTwU7gHlIFM/s1600-h/DSC00806.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311149774229435282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SbT-lHnXc5I/AAAAAAAAAK0/cTwU7gHlIFM/s320/DSC00806.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, today I am writing to you from Lossiemouth, a lovely coastal village on the northern coast of Scotland. Joe and I have rented a cottage on the water for the next two weeks in hopes of having some family time together. For those of you who don't know, Lossiemouth is where Joe is doing his training course and will probably be here until sometime in May. It is also a 10-hour drive from Ely, about as far away as you can be and still be in the UK. Joe has come home twice, but it is a long trip for just a weekend visit and the weekends always seem to go too quickly. So when Joe found this cabin, we jumped on it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SbT8yp5gOfI/AAAAAAAAAKk/nuHrGIXHhsM/s1600-h/DSC00792.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311147807747357170" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SbT8yp5gOfI/AAAAAAAAAKk/nuHrGIXHhsM/s320/DSC00792.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We arrived here on Friday afternoon. Fortunately, my dad was still visiting so he helped me make the trip. The four of us (me, Dad, Ben, and Bastian) left Ely Thursday and stayed at a hotel just over the Scottish border. Both Ben and Bastian did much better than expected. It was a long trip for the adults so I know it awful for them. While the scenery is lovely, English roads are terrible. Friday's trip was much better since Scottish roads are better too. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SbT9yGFhtSI/AAAAAAAAAKs/Vu9P_RZwEkA/s1600-h/DSC00812.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311148897645737250" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SbT9yGFhtSI/AAAAAAAAAKs/Vu9P_RZwEkA/s320/DSC00812.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The cabin is really quite lovely. It is cosy and has everything we need. The owners are very hospitable. Not only did they have portable crib and high chair we requested, but there were baby toys and books for Ben. There was also milk, eggs, bread, and bacon in the fridge so we could make breakfast the next morning.  Yum!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On Saturday, we piled in the car and headed for Loch Ness. It is truly a magnificent site. No sign of Nessie the Loch Ness monster, but we had a blast all the same. We also toured Uruqurt Castle, which is on the edge of the loch. By then the rain had stopped, so we were able to really enjoy ourselves and take lots of pictures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SbT8yp5gOfI/AAAAAAAAAKk/nuHrGIXHhsM/s1600-h/DSC00792.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/756726782337400399-8098596635417144204?l=marshahowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/feeds/8098596635417144204/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=756726782337400399&amp;postID=8098596635417144204' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/8098596635417144204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/8098596635417144204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/2009/03/arival-in-scotlandloch-ness.html' title='Arival in Scotland/Loch Ness'/><author><name>Marsha Howell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07262607790180272033</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://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SbT-lHnXc5I/AAAAAAAAAK0/cTwU7gHlIFM/s72-c/DSC00806.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-756726782337400399.post-8638710675823815453</id><published>2009-03-03T07:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-03T07:49:18.233-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Seven Months!!</title><content type='html'>Well, Benjamin is 7-months-old today.  I can still hardly believe he is so big.  He's gained 11 lbs, grown 7 inches, and is working on his 3rd tooth.  He now enjoys bathtime and flirts with every woman he sees.  But most importantly, he has his mummy wrapped around his little finger.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am doing my best not to let him know this, though.  I appear to be quite stern in matters of naptime and discipline, but it's really a show.  Last night, Dad and I went out for dessert.  We were sitting in big comfy leather chairs.  Ben was sitting in my chair off to the side.  As I was trying to eat my sticky toffee pudding (yum!), he kept pulling on my sweater and smiling at me.  It was one of those moments where you say to yourself, "I really love you and you are all mine."  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This week, we're all heading up to Scotland to visit Joe.  Joe and I rented a pet friendly cabin in Lossiemouth that is right on the water.  I can't wait to see all of the places he's been telling me about.  We're going to take a drive to Loch Ness and visit the highlands as well.  I hope Joe doesn't try to talk in a bad Scottish accent the whole time.  I may need to remind him that he is not Braveheart.  He's already bought some "knickers" pants.  I fear a kilt may be next.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/756726782337400399-8638710675823815453?l=marshahowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/feeds/8638710675823815453/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=756726782337400399&amp;postID=8638710675823815453' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/8638710675823815453'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/8638710675823815453'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/2009/03/seven-months.html' title='Seven Months!!'/><author><name>Marsha Howell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07262607790180272033</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-756726782337400399.post-1080228717004745765</id><published>2009-02-27T04:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-27T04:27:12.342-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Finally...</title><content type='html'>Well, it finally happened.  Benjamin finally rolled over.  I can't believe how happy that made me.  I know most nearly 7-month-old babies are rolling all over the place, but not my boy.  He hasn't done it since so I hope it wasn't a fluke.  We have been spending a lot more time on our tummies (yes, me too!), but he still hates it.  It just now takes longer for him to pitch a fit.  Ben is right on target with all of the other developmental milestones so I'm not really worried.  I get so anxious for him to do things.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In other news, we have set the date for Benjamin's baptism.  We will be doing it on May 17th if anyone is planning on being in the area.  :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/756726782337400399-1080228717004745765?l=marshahowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/feeds/1080228717004745765/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=756726782337400399&amp;postID=1080228717004745765' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/1080228717004745765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/1080228717004745765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/2009/02/finally.html' title='Finally...'/><author><name>Marsha Howell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07262607790180272033</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-756726782337400399.post-5073279544316577613</id><published>2009-02-20T02:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T02:43:07.003-08:00</updated><title type='text'>B Bear at 6 (and a half) Months</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SZ6GQOiTJeI/AAAAAAAAAJg/YFjqpD2UIRs/s1600-h/DSC00700.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SZ6GQOiTJeI/AAAAAAAAAJg/YFjqpD2UIRs/s320/DSC00700.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304825024427009506" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Today, we took Benjamin to the doctor for his 6-month check-up.  The doctor said that everything looked normal and that he is perfectly healthy.  He did much better with his shots this time around.  He didn't cry nearly as long as last time.  Although we have to take him back next month for a flu shot booster shot, he doesn't need any more immunizations until he is 12 months-old.  Woo-hoo!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So here are his stats:  He now weighs 17 lb and 8 oz and is 27.5 inches long.  That puts him in the 50th percentile for both.  He hovered around the 50th percentile last time too, so I assume he is growing right on schedule.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SZ6JH1XhS8I/AAAAAAAAAJo/GtUIYhPWZUw/s320/DSC00709.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304828178766842818" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Benjamin is progressing well too.  He can sit up on his own for a while now.  Occasionally, he looses his balance and topples over, but so do I so I don't hold that against him.  He reaches for everything in sight and puts it in his mouth.  Ben also loves buttons so the tv remote and the answering machine are his new favorite toys.  Typical man I guess...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In other news, my dad arrived Tuesday.  He has been a great help.  Benjamin, of course, has loved the attention.  He also loves Dad's mustache.  That's pretty funny to watch, unless of course it's your mustache that is getting pulled.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/756726782337400399-5073279544316577613?l=marshahowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/feeds/5073279544316577613/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=756726782337400399&amp;postID=5073279544316577613' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/5073279544316577613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/5073279544316577613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/2009/02/b-bear-at-6-and-half-months.html' title='B Bear at 6 (and a half) Months'/><author><name>Marsha Howell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07262607790180272033</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://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SZ6GQOiTJeI/AAAAAAAAAJg/YFjqpD2UIRs/s72-c/DSC00700.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-756726782337400399.post-6333696561085489682</id><published>2009-02-14T04:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-14T05:11:59.561-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Valentine's Day</title><content type='html'>When I woke up this morning, I thought today was going to be a bust.  It was so cosy in my bed that I was powerless to get up and do anything productive.  So when Ben fired up his lungs at ten til eight, I had not done anything.  No breakfast, no teeth brushing, no dog walking.  That is never a good sign.  Plus, my head was so heavy from congestion.  (It appears that my cold has come back for a victory lap.  Benjamin is likewise snotty.)  Top that off with a cranky baby, and I was sure that today was the day I was going to throw myself in the river.  (That day is never very far away it seems.)&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But Ben soon went down for a nap and I finally got my breakfast and coffee.  I decided to stop being negative and try my best.  The sun is shining and it is Valentine's Day and all.  Let's make it a good one.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So when he got up, we hit the Farmer's Market.  Now for those of you who don't know, Ely has two markets, one on Thursday and one on Saturday.  I knew that Thursday's was the general market with vegetables and assorted flea market goodies.  Someone had told me that Saturday's market was the trinkets and collectibles market, but I had noticed that sometimes there were other items too.  Turns out that on the second and fourth Saturdays, it is also a Farmer's Market.  My favorite!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love, love, love Farmer's Markets.  I truly believe that we should support our local food growers as much as possible.  It is good for the economy and the environment.  Plus, it is usually a ton of fun.  Unfortunately, I have been a sissy about out local market.  Usually, I say something about not needing baked goods or jam and not buy anything.  But I figured I would really enjoy myself today.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I did!  My first stop was to Tom's Cakes, where I bought millionaire's shortbread and a date crumble.  Then I bought plum jam, an asparagus quiche, white rolls, wheat rolls, and fresh apple juice in a wine bottle.  For Joe, I bought habanero hot sauce.  I even bought meat from the butchers.  The great thing about the Farmer's Market is that it is mostly organic and free range.  I picked up two different types of free range pork burgers and one package of sausage.  (The girl reminded me that it has no preservatives, so I guess I have to eat it quickly!)  For lunch, I decided to go a little crazy.  I had an ostrich burger with onions on a wheat roll.  It was thick and very tasty.  The woman behind the counter picked up on my American accent and said I sounded just like her daughter-in-law, who is from Vermont.  (I think my cold must make me sound a bit nasally.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;However, the highlight of the trip was my new quilt.  I don't normally do quilts, but this one is lovely.  It has very bright warm colors and is so beautiful.  The best part was that it had just been reduced from 59 Pounds to 29.  I took it immediately.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm not sure Ben enjoyed it as much as I did, but he seemed okay.  I always try to show him the pet chickens, but I don't think he can see them in his stroller.  When we got home, he let me cuddle with him.  I think that was the best part of the day. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/756726782337400399-6333696561085489682?l=marshahowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/feeds/6333696561085489682/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=756726782337400399&amp;postID=6333696561085489682' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/6333696561085489682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/6333696561085489682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/2009/02/happy-valentines-day.html' title='Happy Valentine&apos;s Day'/><author><name>Marsha Howell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07262607790180272033</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-756726782337400399.post-1013804703858505429</id><published>2009-02-12T03:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-12T03:48:08.197-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Dust Never Settles</title><content type='html'>Greetings everyone!  Well, this past week or so has been a bit rough, but the sun is shining today so I hope that means my luck is turning around.  The snow and ice has &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;finally &lt;/span&gt;melted away.  It was beginning to drive me crazy.  Our road is nothing but potholes anyway, but when you add in ice covered potholes, it is not a good situation.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hopefully, Benjamin will be doing better also.  The last month or so has been terrible.  First, there was the ear infection and teething.  Then as soon as Joe's parents left, he got his first cold.  Now that he is nearly done with that, I think he might be teething again.  I don't see anything in his mouth, but sometimes he is cranky for absolutely no reason.  Plus, yesterday he tried to gnaw the coffee table.  The only thing that is reassuring is that my baby arsenal is stocked and ready to go.  I have tylenol, ibuprofen, teething tablets, teething powders, baby orajel, and the ever popular teething biscuits.  Now all I need is a bit of whiskey for the gums (mine, obviously, not his).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In other news, I am very excited about my dad coming to visit.  He was originally supposed to be here Tuesday, but got delayed a week at the last minute.  So he will be here this Tuesday instead.  I can't wait to show him around Ely, and Ben can't wait to have someone else to play with.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In the meantime, I am doing everything possible to keep Benjamin busy.  Maybe I'm just not very creative, but I find that I quickly run out of things to do.  He has a short attention span so we constantly change it up.  After an hour or so, we've done it all.  My solution is to take him out as much as possible.  There are playgroups everyday of the week and I try to hit them all.  Yesterday, we did Rhymetime at the library, and today I met my friend Minh for coffee.  Technically, that last one isn't a playgroup, but Minh brought her baby too, so he still had fun.   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/756726782337400399-1013804703858505429?l=marshahowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/feeds/1013804703858505429/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=756726782337400399&amp;postID=1013804703858505429' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/1013804703858505429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/1013804703858505429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/2009/02/dust-never-settles.html' title='The Dust Never Settles'/><author><name>Marsha Howell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07262607790180272033</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-756726782337400399.post-8509137353689868239</id><published>2009-02-06T02:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-06T03:28:23.975-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Snow, snow, and more snow</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SYwe0JKMQYI/AAAAAAAAAJY/aB1s-GZzjIU/s1600-h/DSC00689.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SYwe0JKMQYI/AAAAAAAAAJY/aB1s-GZzjIU/s320/DSC00689.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299644742668927362" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Lorre headed for the airport on Wednesday, she made the comment that she would have to go because she couldn't conjure up another snow storm.  Well, she was wrong and about a day behind.  Yesterday, I woke up to about 2-3 inches of solid powder on the ground.  Unfortunately, Ben and I had to go to the base, so we bundled up and went.  The roads in Ely were the worst ones and the trip wasn't too bad.  However, it is snowing again today.  It's slushy in a lot of parts.  I am really glad I have nowhere to go other than my living room.  It is definitely a hot cocoa day.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In other news, Benjamin hit the 6-month mark this week.  I weighed him on our scale and he's about 18.5 pounds.  Lorre bought him a cute cupcake at the store and we all sang "Happy Birthday."  I gave him a little piece and he made an awful face.  Lorre and I also took a piece and concluded that Ben was right.  It tasted like cornbread with icing.  Ewww...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ben also has a little cold. They say that the anti-bodies from the mother's breast milk wear off after about 6 months and I guess they are right.  He has the snotty bug I had last week.  He doesn't seem to be too bothered by it, but I feel so bad for him.  He's congested and has a cough.  I have tried to use the bulb syringe several times and have concluded that it is worthless.  It just makes him cry and he won't sit still to let me use it.  Hopefully, it will clear up soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/756726782337400399-8509137353689868239?l=marshahowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/feeds/8509137353689868239/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=756726782337400399&amp;postID=8509137353689868239' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/8509137353689868239'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/8509137353689868239'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/2009/02/snow-snow-and-more-snow.html' title='Snow, snow, and more snow'/><author><name>Marsha Howell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07262607790180272033</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://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SYwe0JKMQYI/AAAAAAAAAJY/aB1s-GZzjIU/s72-c/DSC00689.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-756726782337400399.post-3325300206002807887</id><published>2009-02-02T07:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-02T08:23:03.906-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Snow Day!</title><content type='html'>Oh, the weather outside is frightful"...and the worst snow storm in 18 years in parts of England.&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SYcbkYi0THI/AAAAAAAAAJI/DIGCcEpLab0/s320/IMG_2125.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298233798502403186" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The snow started yesterday.  We had some light flurries yesterday morning and by eveningtime, it was properly snowing.  It continued through the night and by this morning, there was truly snow on the ground.  This might sound silly to some, but to people from Florida, this is a big deal.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SYcce2Kf6rI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/vEV5eQVwj5A/s320/DSC00682.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298234802885880498" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Apparently, it is a big deal to the Brits too.  Schools closed, trains and subways stopped running, and all of the airports were reporting major issues.  It quickly became clear that there was no way that Joe and Lorre were going to be able to make it to Gatwick this afternoon.  Lorre has a Cheshire cat grin on her face and keeps quoting a line of scripture along the lines of "the fervent prayer of a righteous woman will prevail."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was also clear that it probably wasn't a great idea to take Benjamin to his 6-month check-up today.  The roads are terrible on a normal day and we could have likely gotten injured or stranded.  I truly believe that Ben fully understands what is going on because he has been extremely happy.  He somehow understands that his grandmother gets to stay for a few more days AND he didn't have to get shots today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SYcam5m8MtI/AAAAAAAAAI4/bWwCtTABiis/s320/IMG_2120.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298232742226178770" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Instead of doing anything productive, we are enjoying the snow day.  Lorre and I took Benjamin outside for snow pictures.  He was not too thrilled about it, but we were.  We were also the only fools doing it.  A man stopped us and asked us if we minded being in the local paper.  I guess they are doing a story on the snow and needed pictures.  I'm very excited about that.  After all, it isn't just Ben's first snow day. but mine too.               &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/756726782337400399-3325300206002807887?l=marshahowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/feeds/3325300206002807887/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=756726782337400399&amp;postID=3325300206002807887' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/3325300206002807887'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/3325300206002807887'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/2009/02/snow-day.html' title='Snow Day!'/><author><name>Marsha Howell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07262607790180272033</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://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SYcbkYi0THI/AAAAAAAAAJI/DIGCcEpLab0/s72-c/IMG_2125.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-756726782337400399.post-4867506619616114246</id><published>2009-01-28T13:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-28T14:31:48.317-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SYDcbtzFlaI/AAAAAAAAAIg/E3OfjTSocYE/s1600-h/DSC00656.JPG'/><title type='text'>Family Update</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SYDcb_e7gNI/AAAAAAAAAIo/Tyz22sX_W7Y/s1600-h/DSC00654.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SYDcb_e7gNI/AAAAAAAAAIo/Tyz22sX_W7Y/s320/DSC00654.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296475535243444434" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Well, this week has certainly been much better than last week.  Benjamin's ear infection seems to have cleared up and he is back to his normal happy self.  And that makes for a happy mama.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's hard to believe that he will be six months-old next week.  He now has two teeth and seems to be working on two more.  (He's only had one truly awful day, so I feel rather lucky.)  He can sit on his own for short periods of time and has recently learned to blow bubbles with his drool.  Benjamin has somehow morphed into a little boy.  A tiny part of me is sad, I guess, but mostly I'm just stunned.  He has such a personality and he is learning to do so many things so quickly.  I no longer worry that he will never roll over.  He still hasn't yet officially, but I know he can and the motivation is low.  What does worry me is how well he can stand up and hold onto the furniture.  Fortunately, Ben still needs me to keep him upright, but those days are numbered.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SYDcbtzFlaI/AAAAAAAAAIg/E3OfjTSocYE/s320/DSC00656.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296475530496152994" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Joe seems to be doing well up in Scotland.  He says he is enjoying eating three meals a day.  (Still not sure how to take that...)  He is also training for a half-marathon.  I am so proud of him, but he'll never believe that.  He is coming down to visit this weekend.  I am very excited to see him, even if it is for a short while.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lorre and Joe are still visiting.  I feel bad that we haven't done much sight-seeing, but they seem happy to be part of the daily grind.  Lorre claims she has done everything she wanted to.  (We did go shoe shopping yesterday.)  Ben is soaking up the attention and I pray he won't be  absolutely rotten when they leave.  To tell the truth, I am getting a little spoiled too.  I will miss the company and the home cooked meals.  Fortunately, I have managed to stock the freezer with food to keep me from starving.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today, I finally brought home the Camry.  It only took 3 months and 3,000 pounds, but she is mine again.  For those of you who don't know, one of the fine employees at the loading dock in Georgia smashed my front right corner.  The side panel, hood, headlight, and bumper all had to be replaced.  The vehicle folks here were great.  Joe and I thought it would cost us a ton of money that we might one day get reimbursed.  Instead, they took care of everything, including a rental car.  It was superior customer service.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What is new with me...Well, I am making a better effort to improve my social calendar.  I met my neighbor, Minh, yesterday for coffee and have two more coffee dates with ladies from the church.  Minh and I have decided that we are going to be each other's workout buddy.  Starting Tuesday, I will be dropping Ben off at the gym's nursery and getting back to business.  I have gotten more involved with our church.  I am helping to plan a "labyrinth" for holy week that teaches the 12 stations of the cross.  Oh, and I am reading &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;You: On a Diet&lt;/span&gt;.  Wish me luck with that last one.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/756726782337400399-4867506619616114246?l=marshahowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/feeds/4867506619616114246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=756726782337400399&amp;postID=4867506619616114246' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/4867506619616114246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/4867506619616114246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/2009/01/family-update.html' title='Family Update'/><author><name>Marsha Howell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07262607790180272033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SYDcb_e7gNI/AAAAAAAAAIo/Tyz22sX_W7Y/s72-c/DSC00654.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-756726782337400399.post-7345676061054968196</id><published>2009-01-22T02:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T03:03:19.999-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Long week...</title><content type='html'>Well, it has been a bit of a long week.  Joe left for his training on Saturday.  I drove with him to Newcastle and took the train back on Sunday morning.  I really wish we could have seen more of the city in the daytime, but it looks like a fun town so I am sure we will go back.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God was looking out for us on Sunday.  First off, I nearly missed my train because the hotel did not give us a wake up call.  They later told Joe that "they don't do wake-up calls."  Hmm...sketchy.  We ran to the train station and I made it there with a couple of minutes to spare.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That evening, Joe called to say that his car had overheated.  Fortunately, he was only a few miles from his final destination.  He was able to find a reputable mechanic and dropped it off there.  Apparently, the thermostat got stuck (or something like that).  Anyway, it only cost 80 pounds and he had it back the next day.  I am just so thankful that he was in a safe location and was able to get help easily.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Monday morning, Ben woke up early.  He was bright red and very hot.  He had a fever of 102.  (Yes, that's right.  TDY usually means the car brakes down and the kids get sick.  Does that mean I am in the clear now?)  I gave him some medicine.  He seemed to feel better on and off, but when he woke up Tuesday with the same fever, I took him to the doctor.  Turns out that he has an ear infection.  While he was screaming at the doctor's office, I could also see two spots where teeth are coming in.  Wonderful.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Benjamin is doing better everyday, but still isn't his normal self.  I also wonder if he feels better from the ear ache, but his teeth still hurt him.   I guess time will tell.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am just really glad that Joe's parents are still here.  I think I may have gone crazy.  Yesterday, I felt like crying.  But currently my baby is sleeping and it is a new day.  I hope it is a good one.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/756726782337400399-7345676061054968196?l=marshahowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/feeds/7345676061054968196/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=756726782337400399&amp;postID=7345676061054968196' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/7345676061054968196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/7345676061054968196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/2009/01/long-week.html' title='Long week...'/><author><name>Marsha Howell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07262607790180272033</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-756726782337400399.post-2834280567060974013</id><published>2009-01-18T09:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T10:37:29.270-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Our First Visitors!!</title><content type='html'>The great thing about living in a foreign country is that when people visit you, it is more like a vacation.  Not only are there fun things to do, but you don't feel bad about inviting people.  (Can't say the same for Goldsboro.)  Joe's parents, Joe Sr. and Lorre, arrived Monday.  (Their luggage arrived Tuesday.)  They are going to spend a week here with Joe and then help me out when he heads to Scotland for training.&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Since we now have Benjamin, Joe and I have not been able to do a lot of sightseeing.  So we planned a trip to Norwich (despite warnings that the locals have webbed hands).  The five of us boarded a train and off we went.   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SXN2dZnV0AI/AAAAAAAAAIY/6NsFFTdiaro/s320/DSC00645.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292704234554642434" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think we all really had a fun time.  Norwich is known as a fun university city with many churches, a couple of cathedrals, and a castle.  Our first stop was Norwich Cathedral.  It was very lovely, but they were doing construction so we didn't get the full experience.  (That Howell luck strikes again.)  However, we did enjoy what we saw, and it also happens to be a great place to stop and feed a baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SXN1bi132mI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/dzrlv1MnYtg/s320/DSC00637.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292703103160146530" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After that, we found the outdoor market and grabbed some food at one of the lunch counters.  It wasn't fancy, but the food was delicious and affordable.  Next, we went inside The Forum, which is a large public building with restaurants, BBC radio stations, etc.  It also has the library.  Inside the library is the USAAF 2nd Air Division Memorial Library.  Joe and his dad looked at that while me and Lorre took Ben to the children's section.  (Everybody wins!!)  Here is a picture of us in the lobby of The Forum.  Ben had a meltdown right before this, but as you can see, he recovered nicely for the camera.  He is such a ham!  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SXNzS8Kv2MI/AAAAAAAAAIA/5LTHBtUMYXg/s320/DSC00641.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292700756316510402" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lastly, we climbed the hill to the castle...only to not go inside.  By this point, we had about an hour or so before our train left and the castle takes a few hours to see.  Lorre and I were a bit disappointed, but the castle has been there for almost a thousand years so I guess it isn't going anywhere.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/756726782337400399-2834280567060974013?l=marshahowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/feeds/2834280567060974013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=756726782337400399&amp;postID=2834280567060974013' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/2834280567060974013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/2834280567060974013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/2009/01/our-first-visitors.html' title='Our First Visitors!!'/><author><name>Marsha Howell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07262607790180272033</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://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SXN2dZnV0AI/AAAAAAAAAIY/6NsFFTdiaro/s72-c/DSC00645.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-756726782337400399.post-6821190156162685255</id><published>2009-01-06T12:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-06T12:52:24.299-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Trip to Peterborough</title><content type='html'>Well now that the holidays are over, life is getting back to normal.  Joe is back to work full time until he leaves for Scotland in two weeks.  I must admit that I have become rather spoiled.  He has been home at lot more since we moved here; a welcome change from life in Goldsboro.  It's nice to have a second pair of hands with the baby.  Plus, I have gotten used to hanging out in town with him.  We frequently go to the pubs for lunch or stroll around the square on market days.  I really am going to miss him when he goes up north for his course.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Case in point, we decided to go to Peterborough this afternoon.  Joe and I had never been, but figured we would hit the shopping area and take it from there.  The area was essentially a small mall and felt very much like a mall back home, with its throngs of teenagers and lines at the McDonald's.  (They got my order wrong too, just like at home.  Am I the only one who orders the fruit instead of fries with the happy meal?)  We also took a quick look around at their cathedral, which is very beautiful.  It was built by the Normans so it looks more like a castle than some of the others I have seen.  Inside, they had storyboards with information about the church and monastic life.  Apparently, Catherine of Aragon is buried there.  We couldn't stay long because they were about to have service, but I would like to take trip back.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On another note, it is COLD here.  According to the weather report, it wasn't supposed to be above freezing today.  If it did, it sure did not feel like it.  It is awful.  There is ice on the grass and some of the sidewalks.  It looks like snow from far away because it is white, but it is ice.  I try not to walk the dog on the icy sidewalks, but I am pretty sure I will fall on my butt soon. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/756726782337400399-6821190156162685255?l=marshahowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/feeds/6821190156162685255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=756726782337400399&amp;postID=6821190156162685255' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/6821190156162685255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/6821190156162685255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/2009/01/trip-to-peterborough.html' title='Trip to Peterborough'/><author><name>Marsha Howell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07262607790180272033</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-756726782337400399.post-6133863092228731165</id><published>2009-01-01T12:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-01T13:31:56.899-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmastime in London</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SV02G2qSAHI/AAAAAAAAAH4/u0vLzNofka8/s1600-h/DSC00469.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SV02G2qSAHI/AAAAAAAAAH4/u0vLzNofka8/s320/DSC00469.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286441028982800498" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week, the fam took its first sightseeing trip.  Rather than fill the house with more crap we don't need, Joe and I decided to go to London for a few days.  By train, it only takes an hour and 15 minutes to get to the London King's Cross station, so we kenneled the dog and off we went.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Our first day we arrived late in the afternoon.  After we checked into the hotel (free due to my Holiday Inn points), we took a cab to Oxford Street on our way to Hyde Park.  Oxford St is a major shopping district, so you can imagine the scene two days before Christmas.  It was absolutely packed and both me and Joe felt like we had to rush, even though we had nowhere in particular we had to be.  The one really nice thing was that many of the department stores had lights on the outside and were all decorated for Christmas.  Too bad I couldn't really enjoy it...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Once we left Oxford St, we went to Hyde Park.  During the holidays, they host a "Winter Wonderland" right in the middle of the park.  There was ice skating, carnival rides, a German Chris Kringle market, and of course lots of food and drink.  We had such a good time!  Benjamin had never seen such a sight so he was quite interested.  Obviously, he was too small for the rides, but I think he still had a good time.  Joe and I celebrated by eating cinnamon pretzels, crepes, and lots of mulled wine.  Happy Christmas indeed!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The next day Joe and I set out to see St Paul's Cathedral and the British Museum.  Our first stop was the cathedral, which was amazing.  It is rather stunning if you ever get a chance to see it.  There are a lot of famous people buried there as well as several I have never heard of.  While Joe ran off to use the facilities, Ben decided to follow in his footsteps.  So my lovely baby has had his nappy changed in the crypt of St Paul's.  How many other babies can say that!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When Joe returned, he put Ben in his front carrier and we walked the several steps to the top of the dome.  I'm not sure how many steps it is, but I did get a little dizzy going up and down.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;From there, we ventured on to the British Museum.  The museum has a tremendous array of treasures, including &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;the &lt;/span&gt;Rosetta Stone and a few genuine mummies.  Unfortunately, Benjamin reached his maximum fun limit at the exact minute we went inside.  So after a few minutes of screaming, Ben and I went back to the hotel for a nap.  (Yes, we both took one.)  Joe stayed on with the agreement that I would return later, which I did.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Our last day in London was also Christmas Eve.  Our plan was to take some pictures in front of Big Ben and go to Westminster Abbey.  We had tried to go to the Abbey last summer, but it had  closed 30 minutes before we arrived. Needless to say, we were really looking forward to it.  After taking our pictures of Big and Little Ben, we walked to the Abbey...closed on Christmas Eve.  What?!  So we tried the Cabinet War Rooms...also closed on Christmas Eve.  For our last ditch effort, we decided to stroll to Trafalgar Square and visit the National Gallery.  Turns  out that is also closed on Christmas Eve.  Guess we should have planned that better.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Overall, our first family vacation was wonderful.  I can't wait to see where we go next!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/756726782337400399-6133863092228731165?l=marshahowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/feeds/6133863092228731165/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=756726782337400399&amp;postID=6133863092228731165' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/6133863092228731165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/6133863092228731165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/2009/01/christmastime-in-london.html' title='Christmastime in London'/><author><name>Marsha Howell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07262607790180272033</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SV02G2qSAHI/AAAAAAAAAH4/u0vLzNofka8/s72-c/DSC00469.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-756726782337400399.post-2370423727937932240</id><published>2008-12-29T02:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-29T02:18:12.403-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Benjamin Update</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SVih3nYRnyI/AAAAAAAAAHw/Tusn0alpxf4/s1600-h/DSC00589.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285152139554955042" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SVih3nYRnyI/AAAAAAAAAHw/Tusn0alpxf4/s320/DSC00589.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, Benjamin is growing like a weed.  Although I don't know his exact stats, I do know that he has outgrown many of his clothes!  He is almost sitting up on his own, though he still hates being on his tummy.  As you can see from the picture, his has a new favorite toy.  It seems silly to talk about "Santa" when the thing he's interested in most is attached to him.  Ben is also enjoying table food.  So far he has eaten everything I have given him so maybe he won't be a picky eater.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/756726782337400399-2370423727937932240?l=marshahowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/feeds/2370423727937932240/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=756726782337400399&amp;postID=2370423727937932240' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/2370423727937932240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/2370423727937932240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/2008/12/benjamin-update.html' title='Benjamin Update'/><author><name>Marsha Howell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07262607790180272033</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://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SVih3nYRnyI/AAAAAAAAAHw/Tusn0alpxf4/s72-c/DSC00589.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-756726782337400399.post-8874452852426437697</id><published>2008-12-24T13:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-24T13:14:13.225-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas Draw</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SVKlqian5cI/AAAAAAAAAGk/ksLDrapLlM0/s1600-h/DSC00400.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283467463070574018" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SVKlqian5cI/AAAAAAAAAGk/ksLDrapLlM0/s320/DSC00400.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Last Friday, Joe and I went to the “Christmas Draw” at the Officer’s Mess. It was an absolute blast and has spoiled us for all future USAF “holiday functions.” (Heaven forbid they actually say Christmas.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First off, a bus picked us up in Ely. No endless speeches about “having a plan” or forcing people to be DDs. Just get on the bus and we will bring your drunk butt home later. Brilliant!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we got off the bus, Santa and his elves were there to greet us, along with two actual reindeer! The one posing with us is called “Comet.” Isn’t he cute!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As we walked into the mess, carol singers were singing “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen.” Unfortunately, this is where I lost Joe. He stayed outside to sing “O, Come All Ye Faithful.” I am sure he would have stayed out there all night if I had not gone to fetch him, but I digress…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, the foyer was filled with people all dressed in their finest black tie apparel. Waiters circled about with glasses of champagne and a variety of appetizers. On each side of the room, there was a cooler of beer and hard cider, free of charge. Now this is a party!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, we went to the dining room for dinner. Dinner was Beef Wellington with potatoes and vegetables. It was actually quite good, but the interesting part was how they served in. Rather than bringing out plates ready to go with the food already on them, they sat the plates on the tables and then a waiter came around with platters of meat and vegetables. Also interesting was the fact that there were no rolls or water on the table; just plenty of red and white wine. No point in even trying to stay sober.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After dinner, we went into a room that was strictly for coffee, liqueurs, and mince pies. My favorite! In fact, my favorite part of the evening was when I set my empty coffee cup down on a table, and when I looked again someone had replaced it with a platter of mince pies. I am pretty sure heaven has a room like that also.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In another room (there appear to be many), there was a chocolate fountain and casino games. Joe said that the games actually weren’t all that great, but I don’t know because I was too busy making myself sick on white chocolate. At one point, Joe came over with his squadron commander. He was going to introduce me to his wife, but then they realized that we were already standing next to each other at the fountain. Nothing brings women together like an opportunity to fatten themselves up. &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SVKkuh2on1I/AAAAAAAAAGc/ByBjZh4m3oM/s1600-h/DSC00412.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283466432127475538" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SVKkuh2on1I/AAAAAAAAAGc/ByBjZh4m3oM/s320/DSC00412.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Joe and I moved on to yet another room, where a cover band was playing and people were dancing. At some point, they stopped and all the women gathered in the middle of the dance floor. Balloons were released and the women scrambled over each other to pop balloons. Some of the balloons had big prizes inside. It was like being at a wedding where the girls actually want to catch the bouquet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all, it was a fantastic night. I had not had fun like that in a long time. Fortunately, I won’t have to wait too long. Apparently, there is a Summer Ball, which is just as fun as the Christmas one…except that they bring bumper cars and mechanical bulls.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/756726782337400399-8874452852426437697?l=marshahowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/feeds/8874452852426437697/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=756726782337400399&amp;postID=8874452852426437697' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/8874452852426437697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/8874452852426437697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/2008/12/christmas-draw.html' title='Christmas Draw'/><author><name>Marsha Howell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07262607790180272033</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://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SVKlqian5cI/AAAAAAAAAGk/ksLDrapLlM0/s72-c/DSC00400.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-756726782337400399.post-9151530589970241711</id><published>2008-12-13T06:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T06:28:55.596-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Plate!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SUPGlixaVjI/AAAAAAAAAFA/sxHZEdrv-e0/s1600-h/DSC00419.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279281536499865138" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SUPGlixaVjI/AAAAAAAAAFA/sxHZEdrv-e0/s320/DSC00419.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; As it turns out, Benjamin eats a lot better when he enjoys the taste of what he is eating. The other day, I was eating Spinach and Mushroom soup and decided to give him a taste. He loved it! So today I gave him sweet potatoes. As you can see, he ate the whole thing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/756726782337400399-9151530589970241711?l=marshahowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/feeds/9151530589970241711/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=756726782337400399&amp;postID=9151530589970241711' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/9151530589970241711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/9151530589970241711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/2008/12/happy-plate.html' title='Happy Plate!'/><author><name>Marsha Howell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07262607790180272033</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://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SUPGlixaVjI/AAAAAAAAAFA/sxHZEdrv-e0/s72-c/DSC00419.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-756726782337400399.post-6847322350659401596</id><published>2008-12-12T04:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T04:13:42.605-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Going Out and About with Benjamin</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SUJU6K9uWyI/AAAAAAAAAEI/KlZ1Gyijb_M/s1600-h/DSC00391.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278875071584033570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SUJU6K9uWyI/AAAAAAAAAEI/KlZ1Gyijb_M/s320/DSC00391.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; One thing I love about Ely is how unbelievably kid-friendly it is.  As a stay-at-home mom, I must get out of the house on a frequent basis, and Ely has so many activities for the “under-5s.”  There is Baby Sign classes, Baby Yoga (which is literally adjacent to my house), Nursery Play Dance, etc.  It is a great place for young mums…and the kids too I suppose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning, we made our first appearance at the Edward Bear Club.  The class is held at the Cathedral Centre, which is a stone’s throw away from our house.  (It is also free!)  The EBC is a Christian based playgroup where children 0-5 can sing songs and hear Bible stories from the four lovely old ladies who run the group.  Today was the first time Benjamin heard the story of Christmas and I thought that was quite special.  (The story was told from the view of the donkey that carried Mary.  Too cute!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Afterwards, the mums and children had refreshments and socialized.  The lovely ladies made sure that all of the mums had coffee and mums made sure that all of the children had biscuits.   (Biscuits are cookies.  I ate Ben’s for him.)  The mums were pretty friendly and I had a great time.  I even met a fellow American.  No, she’s not connected with the base.  She simply came over here to go to school, met a nice Englishman and never left.   She told me that there are a ton of Americans who live near the hospital so if you need a fix of home, you just go to the “American Playground.”      &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Benjamin and I have also become regulars at Baby Rhymetime, which is held at the public library.  The class is ran by a very dedicated librarian who always reminds the mums to take the baby board books on our way out.  It is a very large class of about 30 mums and babies.  We sing songs and nursery rhymes to the children for about half an hour.  This group is not as friendly as the Edward Bear Club, but I attribute that to the size of the group.  I think in smaller groups you are forced to acknowledge someone else’s existence, but with a large group, it seems perfectly acceptable to ignore people.  (Sorry for the analysis, but I suppose I have to do something with that Sociology degree I worked so hard to get.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I must say that Baby Rhymetime has been educational for me as well as Ben.  Now, I am well versed in English nursery rhymes, such as “The Grand Old Duke of York.”   I was also quite interested to learn that “The Wheels on the Bus” has different words here.  The wheels on the bus go round and round “all day long” instead of “all through the town” as they do in America.  (There goes that brilliant mind again!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/756726782337400399-6847322350659401596?l=marshahowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/feeds/6847322350659401596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=756726782337400399&amp;postID=6847322350659401596' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/6847322350659401596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/6847322350659401596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/2008/12/going-out-and-about-with-benjamin.html' title='Going Out and About with Benjamin'/><author><name>Marsha Howell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07262607790180272033</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://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SUJU6K9uWyI/AAAAAAAAAEI/KlZ1Gyijb_M/s72-c/DSC00391.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-756726782337400399.post-3195046516230314017</id><published>2008-12-08T12:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T13:00:03.682-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Poor Baby B...and Mummy Marsha too!</title><content type='html'>Well, it is a well-known fact among military wives that if something is going to go wrong, it will happen while your husband is off “defending democracy.”  Of course, why should I be any different?  Yesterday morning started fairly normally.  Ben woke up about 7:30.  I fed him and we played.  The baby and I both decided to take a nap while Joe got ready for his trip to the west coast.  (He’ll be gone for about 3 days for his water survival training.  Really, this is a very minor TDY.  What could possibly happen?)  Joe said good-bye and left for the train station.  I offered to drive him, but he declined.  I wish he had let me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not more than 15 minutes after Joe walked out the door, I set Ben on the chair to watch cartoons.  I ran upstairs to simply brush my teeth and change into something more appropriate.  My goal was to make it to church.  (Those of you with children can see where this is going.)  I had barely picked up my toothbrush when I heard BOOM, then the unmistakable sound of my son screaming.  He had fallen down and was laying flat on his back on the hardwood floor.  This was not happening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fighting the urge to cry, I picked him up to soothe him and dialed the on-call nurse line.  He appeared not to be truly hurt, but I wanted to know what to look for.  I was also hoping to hear a soothing voice say that it happens all the time.  I wanted to hear someone tell me that I was not the worst mother in the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her advice: Go to the emergency room.  No words of comfort; just go ahead and drive 30 minutes through the narrowest roads imaginable and wait for who knows how long.  By now, Benjamin had stopped crying and seemed to be okay.  However, I knew that every time he got fussy I would wonder if he was all right.  I grabbed his diaper bag and a few snacks for me and off we went.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fortunately, the ER was not as bad as I expected.  (I think God was trying to give me a break since I had had all good intentions of making it to church.)  We were in and out of there in under an hour.  Benjamin laughed and smiled at the staff.  To be honest, the thought crossed my mind that it was probably a terrible idea to bring him to the ER since it put him in contact with all kinds of contagious people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, lesson learned.  My son is no longer a motionless blob, and I cannot afford to take me eyes off him.  He has propelled himself off the sofa and survived.  My little man is growing up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/756726782337400399-3195046516230314017?l=marshahowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/feeds/3195046516230314017/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=756726782337400399&amp;postID=3195046516230314017' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/3195046516230314017'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/3195046516230314017'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/2008/12/poor-baby-band-mummy-marsha-too.html' title='Poor Baby B...and Mummy Marsha too!'/><author><name>Marsha Howell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07262607790180272033</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-756726782337400399.post-503246096857491280</id><published>2008-12-04T13:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-04T13:52:05.277-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Benjamin at 4 months</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SThOMDYBrMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/2K3xs8sXra8/s1600-h/DSC00379.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276052932436012226" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SThOMDYBrMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/2K3xs8sXra8/s320/DSC00379.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, it's hard to believe that it has been 4 whole months since Ben has come into our lives.  Yesterday, Joe and I took him to the pediatrician for his 4-month well baby check-up.  As you can tell by the picture, he loves to stand up.  He is learning to sit nicely also.  He can't quite do it without support yet, but I know it's just a matter of time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He weighed in at 15 lb and 3 oz and is 25 inches long.  Ben was so happy and playful for the doctor.  Unfortunately, he had to get his shots too, so he was cranky for the rest of the day.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/756726782337400399-503246096857491280?l=marshahowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/feeds/503246096857491280/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=756726782337400399&amp;postID=503246096857491280' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/503246096857491280'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/503246096857491280'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/2008/12/benjamin-at-4-months.html' title='Benjamin at 4 months'/><author><name>Marsha Howell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07262607790180272033</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://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2I6v2iRzn6o/SThOMDYBrMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/2K3xs8sXra8/s72-c/DSC00379.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-756726782337400399.post-3693926167120542280</id><published>2008-11-28T11:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-28T12:10:50.838-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Salutations!</title><content type='html'>Greetings everyone! Rather than send out a series of large e-mails, I have decided to share our adventures in this blog.  I hope you enjoy it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, the Howell family has found home in the lovely city of Ely.  The city is well known for its beautiful cathedral, which is about 900 years-old. It is a charming place to live with many things to enjoy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a rigourous housing search, Joe and I settled on The Coach House (yes, the house has a name).  Nestled near the cathedral is an old manor house called The Chantry.  Well, we live behind it on Chantry Lane in what used to be the old coach house for The Chantry.  The house was recently remodeled and feels warm and cozy.  While technically a four bedroom house, the house is much smaller than our old home in Pikeville so Joe and I are having to get creative.  The parking situation also requires a bit of finesse.  In order to get to our house, you turn into a tight alley barely wider than our car, then you make a 90 degree turn into another alley only slightly wider than the first.  Chantry Lane looks like someone paved it 25 years ago and then forgot all about it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But England has been very fun so far.  Everyone's favorite pub, The Minster, is 70 paces from our door.  (70 Joe-sized paces, so a little further for me.)  Most of the pubs allow children until a certain time.  Apparently, it is not taboo to have your baby in a bar.  Wednesday night we went to the Thanksgiving service at the cathedral, and tonight, we went to the live nativity and lighting of the Christmas lights in the city center.  It was like a carnival with rides and fun booths to look at.  The whole scene made me wish Benjamin was a little older so he could enjoy it.  However, I probably enjoyed mince pie and mulled wine more since I did not have to chase him around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I will try to keep this updated regularly.  Now I have to figure out how to post pictures so the grandparents will leave me be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/756726782337400399-3693926167120542280?l=marshahowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/feeds/3693926167120542280/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=756726782337400399&amp;postID=3693926167120542280' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/3693926167120542280'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/756726782337400399/posts/default/3693926167120542280'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marshahowell.blogspot.com/2008/11/salutations.html' title='Salutations!'/><author><name>Marsha Howell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07262607790180272033</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></feed>
