<?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-12895673</id><updated>2011-11-27T15:24:09.473-08:00</updated><category term='Odds and ends'/><category term='Life of a Kid'/><category term='Recipes'/><category term='Bedtime Stories'/><category term='Other Stories'/><title type='text'>Good Night Isabel</title><subtitle type='html'>I'm the 47-year old mom of a creative 7 year old girl.  We make up bedtime stories, have silly conversations and have thoughts about the world from a 7 year-olds perspective.  Some of the stories have become favorites and some of them have made other children smile.  If you have great stories, please feel free to post them so other's can share too.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://goodnightisabel.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12895673/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://goodnightisabel.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Janet Wendy, founder, Gen Plus</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09961557186626609411</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.eons.com/images/members/8/9/89195781_150x150.jpeg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>27</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12895673.post-8610561240212709523</id><published>2009-03-11T20:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-11T20:38:44.281-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A poem by Isabel</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Caution: &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;this is not real &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;(except for the greasy hair, because my mom says I don't shampoo well enough, and I don't actually think I'm that funny.)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Toe jam between my toes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Hair of greasy&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;And eyelashes with mascara from a day ago.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;I know this all sounds gross&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;Yet, I think it's pretty good&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;And don't even think about laughing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;I can see you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;I embrace the air&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;So don't laugh...I don't actually think I'm that funny!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;YA GOT THAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;Thank you for reading my poem by Isabel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12895673-8610561240212709523?l=goodnightisabel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://goodnightisabel.blogspot.com/feeds/8610561240212709523/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12895673&amp;postID=8610561240212709523&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12895673/posts/default/8610561240212709523'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12895673/posts/default/8610561240212709523'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://goodnightisabel.blogspot.com/2009/03/poem-by-isabel.html' title='A poem by Isabel'/><author><name>Janet Wendy, founder, Gen Plus</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09961557186626609411</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.eons.com/images/members/8/9/89195781_150x150.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12895673.post-7607130979443078211</id><published>2008-05-07T06:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-07T06:50:40.760-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life of a Kid'/><title type='text'>Origami Night!</title><content type='html'>Written by Isabel:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight, I am going to my school again.  I know, I know...it sounds boring, but tonight Iwill do Origami with my teacher.  And we get to try some food...YUM.  Japanese food.  Including it will be for hours. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The end.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12895673-7607130979443078211?l=goodnightisabel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://goodnightisabel.blogspot.com/feeds/7607130979443078211/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12895673&amp;postID=7607130979443078211&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12895673/posts/default/7607130979443078211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12895673/posts/default/7607130979443078211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://goodnightisabel.blogspot.com/2008/05/origami-night.html' title='Origami Night!'/><author><name>Janet Wendy, founder, Gen Plus</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09961557186626609411</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.eons.com/images/members/8/9/89195781_150x150.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12895673.post-5802449084722010041</id><published>2007-05-26T21:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-26T21:31:51.334-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Recipes'/><title type='text'>Great Grape</title><content type='html'>Here is Isabel's latest culinary adventure: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Best tasting Grape Juice&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1/2 cup of grape juice&lt;br /&gt;1 splash of lime juice&lt;br /&gt;2 squished up cocktail tomatoes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stir it all up and drink.  This will make your tummy feel better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12895673-5802449084722010041?l=goodnightisabel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://goodnightisabel.blogspot.com/feeds/5802449084722010041/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12895673&amp;postID=5802449084722010041&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12895673/posts/default/5802449084722010041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12895673/posts/default/5802449084722010041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://goodnightisabel.blogspot.com/2007/05/great-grape.html' title='Great Grape'/><author><name>Janet Wendy, founder, Gen Plus</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09961557186626609411</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.eons.com/images/members/8/9/89195781_150x150.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12895673.post-3840457751063103973</id><published>2007-04-04T22:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-04T23:02:16.285-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life of a Kid'/><title type='text'>Crocs...what the heck are they anyway?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oIiI8Ipwnyo/RhSPjGQEE8I/AAAAAAAAADc/izz_8wsFp1U/s1600-h/crocs_shoes.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5049818915325350850" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oIiI8Ipwnyo/RhSPjGQEE8I/AAAAAAAAADc/izz_8wsFp1U/s320/crocs_shoes.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I own Crocs.  I love Crocs.  My daughter loves Crocs.  And they are UGLY!  Not even pretty in pink (see pic).  Yet everytime I venture out with my daughter, she in her green crocs and me in my brown ones, we never fail to get questions and comments.  "What are those shoes?"  Crocs.  "Are they comfy?"  Yes.  "Where can you buy them?"  Ummm...anywhere?  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today, taking my daughter and her little girlfriend out for a walk with our dog, skipping happily along, all three of us in our Crocs, my daughter and her friend start chatting and all of a sudden burst into giggles watching the dog chase along behind them.  "Mom!" Isabel laughs out.  "Do you think they have Crocs for dogs?"   That stops me for a second.  "No, I don't," I reply.  "But what a great idea!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Isabel and her friend continue on the theme, "They'd need FOUR shoes, not TWO!"  They delight and laugh.  "She could wear FOUR colors!"  "How would they stay on?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Well..." I call back, laughing between breaths, "I guess you could call them 'Croc-a-dogs.'"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12895673-3840457751063103973?l=goodnightisabel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://goodnightisabel.blogspot.com/feeds/3840457751063103973/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12895673&amp;postID=3840457751063103973&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12895673/posts/default/3840457751063103973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12895673/posts/default/3840457751063103973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://goodnightisabel.blogspot.com/2007/04/crocswhat-heck-are-they-anyway.html' title='Crocs...what the heck are they anyway?'/><author><name>Janet Wendy, founder, Gen Plus</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09961557186626609411</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.eons.com/images/members/8/9/89195781_150x150.jpeg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oIiI8Ipwnyo/RhSPjGQEE8I/AAAAAAAAADc/izz_8wsFp1U/s72-c/crocs_shoes.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12895673.post-4730776759853548452</id><published>2007-04-04T07:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-04T07:19:40.164-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life of a Kid'/><title type='text'>American Idol, Grade One Style</title><content type='html'>Everyone and their mother loves American Idol.  As a kid, I remember loving the way my hoarse voice sounded when I had a cold and grabbing a microphone and singing into a tape recorder for hours thinking I sounded like a rock star.  Now that I'm all grown up, and still sing in the car (badly, thank you very much, but with passion!), I watch how my child and her friends play.  Whenever she has a playdate, the first thing she and her friends do is rush into her room and change their clothes into "costumes".  Then they put on Hannah Montana (the BIG fave among 7 year-olds right now), or Kelly Clarkson, Jesse McCartney or High School Musical and they prepare a performance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I, of course, am the audience.  They, of course, are deadly serious, so I can smile, but not laugh.  They LOVE American Idol and have perfected all their moves.  Shifting the microphone from one hand to the other, fluttering their fingers on the mike to the beat of "Best of Both Worlds" and adding in a few hip-hop stylings that have a bit too much hip in their hip-hop.  And they sing out loud, with passionate volume.  Louder is better.  Hitting the notes, not as important as the image.  They'd never make it past the first set of American Idol auditions (actually, at 7 they wouldn't have the patience to stand in line for more than 3 minutes "how much longer, Mummy?" and "are we there yet?  We've been waiting for a MILLION years!") but at 7, that is the coolest goal ever.  To get up on stage and sing to an audience.  But wait.  I'll be writing about the talent show soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12895673-4730776759853548452?l=goodnightisabel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://goodnightisabel.blogspot.com/feeds/4730776759853548452/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12895673&amp;postID=4730776759853548452&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12895673/posts/default/4730776759853548452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12895673/posts/default/4730776759853548452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://goodnightisabel.blogspot.com/2007/04/american-idol-grade-one-style.html' title='American Idol, Grade One Style'/><author><name>Janet Wendy, founder, Gen Plus</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09961557186626609411</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.eons.com/images/members/8/9/89195781_150x150.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12895673.post-8810617158377955178</id><published>2007-03-21T23:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-21T23:27:21.846-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Odds and ends'/><title type='text'>We got a dog!</title><content type='html'>After years of begging, the time was right.  We did it.  We found ourselves a lovely dog.  Isabel wanted a teeny, tiny dog or a Great Dane.  I needed a dog that I wouldn't be allergic to and hopefully not shed.  My mother needed a dog that could be her walking companion every day.  Enter Daisy.  A bundle of squirming energy that we met at a pet rescue.  She was about a year or a year and a half old and was labelled an Irish Wolfhound/Terrier mix.  She had been cooped up in a kennel for about 6 months.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We looked at other dogs, but my mother started having dreams about Daisy.  So, we got Daisy.  She was about 45 pounds, sweet as could be, timid and we had no clue if she was even house-trained.  But within a few days, it became clear that our little Daisy was quite smart, well-trained...and not too timid at all.  In fact, my mother couldn't walk her, my daughter was afraid of her exuberence...and she shed hair all over the place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the end of the weekend, we knew she was ours.  Daisy was a hungry little dog.  In the past few months, she's put on muscle mass and about 20 pounds.  She's possibly a labradoodle, but more lab than poodle.  She's got a mind of her own, my mom still can't walk her, and Daisy's method of communicating is to jump all over us until we understand what she is trying to tell us.  I love that dog like crazy.  Last night, I watched my child, little Isabel, laughing and playing with Daisy, hiding under her comforter and trying to get the dog to lie down ON her.  (My child is a bit like Daisy, too...)  Peals of laughter, shrill dog barks, lots of licks and giggles.  Yup.  We got a dog.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12895673-8810617158377955178?l=goodnightisabel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://goodnightisabel.blogspot.com/feeds/8810617158377955178/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12895673&amp;postID=8810617158377955178&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12895673/posts/default/8810617158377955178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12895673/posts/default/8810617158377955178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://goodnightisabel.blogspot.com/2007/03/we-got-dog.html' title='We got a dog!'/><author><name>Janet Wendy, founder, Gen Plus</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09961557186626609411</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.eons.com/images/members/8/9/89195781_150x150.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12895673.post-6232743557918210325</id><published>2007-02-04T08:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-04T08:09:19.539-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Recipes'/><title type='text'>Isabel's Recipe</title><content type='html'>Here is one of Isabel's favorite recipes that she created all by herself, so please try it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 Tbsp of Honey&lt;br /&gt;1 Handful of Cheerios&lt;br /&gt;1 Tbsp of Peanut Butter&lt;br /&gt;1 Handful of Rice Crispies&lt;br /&gt;20 Shakes of Sprinkles (chocolate or rainbow)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Put it in a small bowl or a big cup.  Stir it all up with a spoon.  Then eat a delicious dessert!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12895673-6232743557918210325?l=goodnightisabel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://goodnightisabel.blogspot.com/feeds/6232743557918210325/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12895673&amp;postID=6232743557918210325&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12895673/posts/default/6232743557918210325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12895673/posts/default/6232743557918210325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://goodnightisabel.blogspot.com/2007/02/isabels-recipe.html' title='Isabel&apos;s Recipe'/><author><name>Janet Wendy, founder, Gen Plus</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09961557186626609411</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.eons.com/images/members/8/9/89195781_150x150.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12895673.post-3108897958870946794</id><published>2006-11-14T00:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-04T08:30:37.616-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Odds and ends'/><title type='text'>Jiggly Tummy</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Posted by mummy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kids are just too honest. After months of hearing my child discuss the joys of my jiggly tummy, I was delighted to discover that my recent efforts at getting into shape are starting to pay off. Muscles are developing, fat is melting, I am starving, and the jiggly fat is getting a lot less jiggly. Having just released Gen Plus Fitness "Getting Started", a fitness DVD designed for the 50 plus market, I thought that with my new fitter self, I'd give it a shake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it is durn good -- even if I don't say so myself! Head over to the &lt;a href="http://genplus.blogspot.com"&gt;Gen Plus blog &lt;/a&gt;and click on the link. The price is sweet and it'll make a wonderful holidy present for every 50 plusser you know!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jiggly or not, I can bend and stretch and reach for the sky.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12895673-3108897958870946794?l=goodnightisabel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://goodnightisabel.blogspot.com/feeds/3108897958870946794/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12895673&amp;postID=3108897958870946794&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12895673/posts/default/3108897958870946794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12895673/posts/default/3108897958870946794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://goodnightisabel.blogspot.com/2006/11/jiggly-tummy.html' title='Jiggly Tummy'/><author><name>Janet Wendy, founder, Gen Plus</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09961557186626609411</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.eons.com/images/members/8/9/89195781_150x150.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12895673.post-115359490930008811</id><published>2006-07-22T11:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-02-04T08:30:54.495-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Odds and ends'/><title type='text'>Calling all Squinters!</title><content type='html'>As some of you know, this blog is the fun space for me and my daughter, while my &lt;a href="http://genplus.blogspot.com"&gt;other blog&lt;/a&gt; is the voice behind &lt;a href="http://www.genplususa.com"&gt;Gen Plus&lt;/a&gt;, a business I started over a year ago specifically for the 50 plus demographic. It is rare that anything crosses over from one to the other, but look over to the right. See anything that looks helpful? At 47...I can no longer read the fine print without reading glasses. That became official this year. And I can no longer ignore the hot flashes and night sweats. Oh...and I can no longer go out for a late dinner without needing two days to recover and a night full of Tums to boot! So, welcome, I say, to Senior Shops. While you may not be a Senior, you may like some of these products....I sure was pretty excited by some many of the products on this site. I'll proudly admit that I can no longer see the hairs on my chin without the aid of reading glasses and a magnifying mirror -- ergo my delight with today's "Deal of the Day" -- a 5X mag mirror! Ha. Useful whether you are a squinting senior or just a slightly senior mom (like me!). In any case, I'm giggling my way to the checkout window!! Let me know what you think!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12895673-115359490930008811?l=goodnightisabel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12895673/posts/default/115359490930008811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12895673/posts/default/115359490930008811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://goodnightisabel.blogspot.com/2006/07/calling-all-squinters.html' title='Calling all Squinters!'/><author><name>Janet Wendy, founder, Gen Plus</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09961557186626609411</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.eons.com/images/members/8/9/89195781_150x150.jpeg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12895673.post-115204033708034699</id><published>2006-07-04T12:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-02-04T08:34:40.478-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bedtime Stories'/><title type='text'>How Spring Became Summer</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6830/1051/1600/spring.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6830/1051/320/spring.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6830/1051/1600/summer%202.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6830/1051/320/summer%202.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Once there was Spring. And Spring really wanted to become Summer. &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6830/1051/1600/summer%201.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the Spring waited a long time. A very long time! And it waited and waited for about three months.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6830/1051/1600/summer%201.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6830/1051/320/summer%201.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And then on the first day of Summer, it was really hot and happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6830/1051/1600/bird%20in%20snow.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6830/1051/320/bird%20in%20snow.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Because it was really so tired of being a little cold, and then a little cold and hot and it really wanted only to be hot. So finally it became Summer and it was so happy because it could be hot! &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6830/1051/1600/hot%20sun.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6830/1051/320/hot%20sun.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The end.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12895673-115204033708034699?l=goodnightisabel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12895673/posts/default/115204033708034699'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12895673/posts/default/115204033708034699'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://goodnightisabel.blogspot.com/2006/07/how-spring-became-summer.html' title='How Spring Became Summer'/><author><name>Janet Wendy, founder, Gen Plus</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09961557186626609411</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.eons.com/images/members/8/9/89195781_150x150.jpeg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12895673.post-114171484144049587</id><published>2006-03-06T22:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-04T08:35:02.491-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bedtime Stories'/><title type='text'>Scooby</title><content type='html'>Isabel loved dogs. And she &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;really, really, really, really, REALLY&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; loved the show Scooby Doo. So her mom bought her a Great Dane. Just like Scooby Doo. Except that her dog was just a little puppy Great Dane. The size of a ball. A big ball...but a ball.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isabel wanted to call him Scooby. Except Scooby Doo was already named Scooby. So she thought...and thought...and thought. So she asked her mom a question.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mom?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, Isabel," her Mom answered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"How big will Scooby get? This big?" and she held her arms out &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;very, very&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; wide.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes," answered her Mom, "Bigger!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"This big?" and she held her arms out &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;very, very, very&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; wide.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Even bigger," said her Mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"THIS big?" asked Isabel, standing on her tippy-toes and holding her arms out &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;very, very, very, very, very&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; wide.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yup," replied her Mom, "Just about that big."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That gave Isabel something to think about. She thought. And thought. (And thought just a little, teeny bit more.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"OK! Since Scooby will be so, so, SO, SO, SO big, I'll call him &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;Scooby-Dooby-Dooby-Dooby-Dooby-Dooby-Doo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her Mom thought that was a great idea. And every day, Scooby-Dooby-Dooby-Dooby-Dooby-Dooby-Doo got just a little bit BIGGER. And BIGGER. And even BIGGER! &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6830/1051/1600/100_0605.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6830/1051/320/100_0605.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isabel would take him for a walk and she'd say,"C'mon &lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Scooby-Dooby-Dooby-Dooby-Dooby-Dooby-Doo&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;!" or "Sit, &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Scooby-Dooby-Dooby-Dooby-Dooby-Dooby-Doo&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;" or "Stay, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;Scooby-Dooby-Dooby-Dooby-Dooby-Dooby-Doo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;" and even "Lie down, &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Scooby-Dooby-Dooby-Dooby-Dooby-Dooby-Doo&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, you can imagine how much work all that &lt;strong&gt;Scooby-Dooby-Dooby-Dooby-Dooby-Dooby-Doo-ing&lt;/strong&gt; was taking. Just when Isabel would finish saying one thing to &lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Scooby-Dooby-Dooby-Dooby-Dooby-Dooby-Doo&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, she'd be onto the next. And she kept getting out of breath. AND &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;Scooby-Dooby-Dooby-Dooby-Dooby-Dooby-Doo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; would get bored of hearing such a long, long, long, long, LONG name and simply...walk away...or lie down...or give her a humongous lick on the nose, which got her whole entire face wet, because his tongue was bigger than her whole face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well. It just wasn't going to work. So Isabel decided that the only thing to do was to make his name shorter. She tried "&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;Scooby-Dooby-Dooby-Dooby-Dooby-Doo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;". But, as you can guess, it was still too long. Then she tried, "&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Scooby-Dooby-Dooby-Dooby-Doo&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;". Still...too long. Then, " &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Scooby-Dooby-Dooby-Doo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;" and then "&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Scooby-Dooby-Doo&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;" and then finally " &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Scooby-Doo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;". And that wouldn't work...because that was the REAL Scooby-Doo's name.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Isabel made a big, humongous decision. She changed her dog's name to &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;Fred&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The end.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12895673-114171484144049587?l=goodnightisabel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://goodnightisabel.blogspot.com/feeds/114171484144049587/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12895673&amp;postID=114171484144049587&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12895673/posts/default/114171484144049587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12895673/posts/default/114171484144049587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://goodnightisabel.blogspot.com/2006/03/scooby.html' title='Scooby'/><author><name>Janet Wendy, founder, Gen Plus</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09961557186626609411</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.eons.com/images/members/8/9/89195781_150x150.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12895673.post-113480207839606689</id><published>2005-12-16T22:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-04T08:35:23.811-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bedtime Stories'/><title type='text'>The Purple Drape</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6830/1051/1600/purple%20monster.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6830/1051/320/purple%20monster.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isabel was a little, wee bit afraid to go to sleep. By mistake, she had watched a few minutes of a really scary show on the TV that was all about Martians with funny heads. She was afraid that the Martians might be real. So she decided not to sleep, she fell asleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In her dream, she was standing...just standing, when all of a sudden, her cousin, Joshua grew two more eyes. He had four eyes and was just goggling and oogling at her when, just like magic, lo and behold, he turned into...a MONSTER! He was big and blackish, purplish...and he said his name in a really scary voice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;"I AM THE PURPLE DRAPE!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And with that, he grabbed Isabel around the waist and she could &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;NOT&lt;/span&gt; move.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Get AWAY from me, PURPLE DRAPE!"&lt;/strong&gt; she yelled very loudly into his creepy purplish eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the Purple Drape only laughed and laughed and laughed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isabel woke up with a start. "Mummy, Mummy!" she ran screaming into her Mummy's room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What is it, Isabel," her Mummy asked as she gathered Isabel into her arms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isabel trembled and cried as she told her Mummy all about the Purple Drape and her cousin Joshua!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the morning, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;and&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; the next night, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#3366ff;"&gt;and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;the following morning, Isabel was still scared. In fact, she was still scared after her Mummy called Joshua to tell him about Isabel's bad dream. In fact, she was still scared until Joshua came over to her house for dinner that night. Isabel told him the WHOLE story. And do you know what Joshua did?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He rolled his eyes and guffawed! (A guffaw is a big loud laugh!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And guess what? The sound that Joshua made with his guffaw, was SO funny, that Isabel laughed like crazy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And guess what else? Isabel was never afraid of the Purple Drape again!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12895673-113480207839606689?l=goodnightisabel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://goodnightisabel.blogspot.com/feeds/113480207839606689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12895673&amp;postID=113480207839606689&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12895673/posts/default/113480207839606689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12895673/posts/default/113480207839606689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://goodnightisabel.blogspot.com/2005/12/purple-drape.html' title='The Purple Drape'/><author><name>Janet Wendy, founder, Gen Plus</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09961557186626609411</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.eons.com/images/members/8/9/89195781_150x150.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12895673.post-113099140227647083</id><published>2005-11-02T22:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-04T08:35:40.880-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bedtime Stories'/><title type='text'>Halloween Prizes</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6830/1051/1600/pumpkin.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6830/1051/320/pumpkin.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Monday was Halloween and Isabel dressed up as a cool and scary Vampire, named Dracula. She had blood on her chin, a black and white wig, a very swirly cape and a chilling laugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;"Ah, ha, ha, ha!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; she would exclaim to anyone who came close enough to her to be terrified.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The blood, the blood (well, it was red liquid sugar, but no one knew that!), dripped down her chin and tickled her lips.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mummy," Isabel said quietly, "can you please wipe some of the blood away? It tickles."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isabel's mummy carefully wiped away the dripping blood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At Isabel's school, where Isabel was in &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;K&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;indergarten (in room &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;K&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;3, with her wonderful teacher, Mrs. &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;K&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;ato...a lot of K's!), the school was holding a Halloween contest and carnival.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isabel paraded around the yard with the other children in Kindergarten.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"And &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;NOW&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, the nominees for Kindergarten costumes, " announced the principal, Mrs. &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;K&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;aplan (another K!), "and for the scariest costume, our nominees are..." Mrs. &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;K&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;aplan announced two names... and then...."AND &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Isabel Spooky&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isabel was SO excited and she ran up to the nominees circle where all the children were.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that was it. She was allowed to leave with her Mummy and have fun at the carnival.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, lo and behold, the next morning, the morning after Halloween, the morning after all the eye makeup and blood had been washed away, Isabel stood with her classmates at Assembly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"And now," announced Mrs. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#3366ff;"&gt;K&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;aplan, "here are the WINNERS of yesterday's contest."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No one said a word. Everyone was listening for their name. It was very, very exciting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"For Kindergarten, for the scariest costume....the winner is...&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#330099;"&gt;Isabel Spooky!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6830/1051/1600/one.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6830/1051/1600/ribbon.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6830/1051/320/ribbon.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Isabel ran up to the principal, who gave her a gorgeous orange ribbon with a gold number one on it. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#00cccc;"&gt;FIRST PLACE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. Isabel had never won such a beautiful award in her life!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rest of her day was fun-tastic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The end.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12895673-113099140227647083?l=goodnightisabel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://goodnightisabel.blogspot.com/feeds/113099140227647083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12895673&amp;postID=113099140227647083&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12895673/posts/default/113099140227647083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12895673/posts/default/113099140227647083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://goodnightisabel.blogspot.com/2005/11/halloween-prizes.html' title='Halloween Prizes'/><author><name>Janet Wendy, founder, Gen Plus</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09961557186626609411</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.eons.com/images/members/8/9/89195781_150x150.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12895673.post-113081659246206275</id><published>2005-10-31T19:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-04T08:36:00.400-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bedtime Stories'/><title type='text'>Isabel's Halloween</title><content type='html'>Once upon a time there was a girl (named Isabel) who went out trick or treating for Halloween. Believe it or not, the fourth house around the corner had a big surprise. A humongous marshmallow. The size of a house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, Isabel got very excited because she LOVED Marshmallows. She could eat them and eat them and eat them some more. Her mom said, "Isabel, I don't want you to eat that Marshmallow house please."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Isabel said, "Can I just have two bites?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"NO" said her mom. But Isabel took two bites anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She got a little fat. She only had eaten two little bites.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next house was a huge house and went almost up to the clouds. It was called the Snowman House. Because it looked like a snowman. They had candies out in front because the people who lived there were out trick or treating. It was a HUGE house. It looked like a hundred people could stay there. They were pretty lucky, because Isabel would have scared them with her scary vampire costume.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she had enough candy, she went back home and went to sleep. The next day, she woke up, went to school, and brought candy for all her friends. So, of course they all ate it and loved it and everyone had a GREAT day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The end.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12895673-113081659246206275?l=goodnightisabel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://goodnightisabel.blogspot.com/feeds/113081659246206275/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12895673&amp;postID=113081659246206275&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12895673/posts/default/113081659246206275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12895673/posts/default/113081659246206275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://goodnightisabel.blogspot.com/2005/10/isabels-halloween.html' title='Isabel&apos;s Halloween'/><author><name>Janet Wendy, founder, Gen Plus</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09961557186626609411</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.eons.com/images/members/8/9/89195781_150x150.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12895673.post-112874065806524030</id><published>2005-10-07T19:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-02-04T08:25:50.435-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bedtime Stories'/><title type='text'>The Great Spider Detective</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6830/1051/1600/golden%20tree%20spider1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6830/1051/320/golden%20tree%20spider1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;As told by Isabel to her mummy -- with a little teeny bit of help.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;(Isabel is in Kindergarten and she can't read yet. Since her story requires a heroine that can read, this story Isabel is in Grade 2!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once upon a time, there was a girl named Isabel. &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6830/1051/1600/pot%20of%20gold.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 90px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 102px" height="128" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6830/1051/320/pot%20of%20gold.jpg" width="114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;She liked to learn about &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;spiders.&lt;/span&gt; But there was a mystery. She had heard about a &lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;golden tree spider&lt;/span&gt; that spun a &lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;golden web&lt;/span&gt;. And it would give her a lot of &lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;gold.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;She &lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;HAD &lt;/span&gt;to find it. She thought, in her brain, where would she find the &lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;golden tree spider&lt;/span&gt;? ...She thought and thought to figure out a plan...a sneaky &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;PLAN&lt;/span&gt;...one that the spiders wouldn't figure out. But the spiders did not know what she was thinking. They were having a hard time to think. They didn't even know if there was any kind of special thing in her brain. They didn't figure out what she was really thinking about them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6830/1051/1600/wolfspider150.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 108px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 107px" height="107" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6830/1051/320/wolfspider150.gif" width="125" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;She knew so many things about so many spiders. There was the tree spider, crab spider, white spider, black widow spider, daddy long legs, wolf spider and brown recluse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was driving along in the desert. Finally she found her special cave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;THAT&lt;/span&gt; was her plan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6830/1051/1600/cave.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 155px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 174px" height="230" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6830/1051/320/cave.jpg" width="189" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;She thought there was lots and lots of spiders in her cave. She told her mom to stop. She went in the cave. It was a very short cave. It was a cave that she could find out where all kinds of spiders were. She went inside the cave and she found writings of what the spiders names were. And she found them. And they were &lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;DEAD&lt;/span&gt;! That meant the golden tree spider was in the &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;CAVE&lt;/span&gt;! She was in second grade, which meant she could read!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She found the &lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;golden tree spider&lt;/span&gt; alive in the cave with the &lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;golden web&lt;/span&gt;. It was very friendly to her and she kept it in her pocket. So she played with it outside at her home. She showed her mom. She wasn't afraid. Then they went inside for milk and cookies. Even the spider had a teeny tiny crumb cookie. They had milk and water. They bought a dog. And they lived happily ever after.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;The end.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Copyright Wendy Spiegel, Los Angeles, California 2006. All rights reserved.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12895673-112874065806524030?l=goodnightisabel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://goodnightisabel.blogspot.com/feeds/112874065806524030/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12895673&amp;postID=112874065806524030&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12895673/posts/default/112874065806524030'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12895673/posts/default/112874065806524030'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://goodnightisabel.blogspot.com/2005/10/great-spider-detective.html' title='The Great Spider Detective'/><author><name>Janet Wendy, founder, Gen Plus</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09961557186626609411</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.eons.com/images/members/8/9/89195781_150x150.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12895673.post-112758586655833778</id><published>2005-09-24T11:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-02-04T08:36:33.171-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bedtime Stories'/><title type='text'>Computer OFF.  Finally!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6830/1051/1600/100_0862.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Story as told by Isabel. Colors and pics by her as well!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once upon a time, there was a girl. Her name was Isabel. She &lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;JUST&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;wanted her Mom to get &lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;OFF&lt;/span&gt; the computer for her swimming lessons! &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6830/1051/1600/100_08601.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;She really wanted to go to her swimming lessons. &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6830/1051/1600/computer%20dog.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6830/1051/320/computer%20dog.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;But her Mom said, &lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;"No! Not yet. Not yet!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6830/1051/1600/100_0093.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="209" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6830/1051/320/100_0093.jpg" width="275" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;She just wanted her Mom to get off the computer. She was watching and watching and watching and watching! Then &lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;FINALLY&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; her Mom got off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For a few minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then....her Mom got ON the computer &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;AGAIN&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;! To send an e-mail! And then she had to stay on for an &lt;span style="color:#66ff99;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;HOUR&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; and then she &lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;FINALLY&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; got off!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They went to their swimming lesson and then &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;FINALLY&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; went home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The end.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12895673-112758586655833778?l=goodnightisabel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://goodnightisabel.blogspot.com/feeds/112758586655833778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12895673&amp;postID=112758586655833778&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12895673/posts/default/112758586655833778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12895673/posts/default/112758586655833778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://goodnightisabel.blogspot.com/2005/09/computer-off-finally.html' title='Computer OFF.  Finally!'/><author><name>Janet Wendy, founder, Gen Plus</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09961557186626609411</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.eons.com/images/members/8/9/89195781_150x150.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12895673.post-112658871895513212</id><published>2005-09-12T22:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-02-04T08:36:53.265-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bedtime Stories'/><title type='text'>Two Fingers</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;My five year old started Kindergarten this week and as a result is filled with exuberence, joy, fear and bathroom concerns. Bear with me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once upon a time there lived a little girl named Isabel. She was big enough to go to Kindergarten. She had a new teacher who's name was Mrs. Kato. Not Kay-to. Cat-Oh. Mrs. Kato was very tiny and very sweet. But she had lots and lots of rules.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#6633ff;"&gt;Rule #1.&lt;/span&gt; My name is Mrs. Cat-Oh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#000099;"&gt;Rule #2.&lt;/span&gt; When it isn't bathroom time and you have to go to the bathroom, raise your hand and show me &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2 fingers&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. I'll point at you and nod and that is how you know you may go to the bathroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#009900;"&gt;Rule #3.&lt;/span&gt; Parents must pick up their children at 2:29 pm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well. Not so many rules after all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6830/1051/1600/gingerbread1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6830/1051/320/gingerbread1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;On the first day of school, Mrs. Cat-Oh made gingerbread dough with the class and showed them where it would get baked in the cafeteria.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the second day of school, Mrs. Cat-Oh brought all the children to the cafeteria...but the Gingerbread Man had gone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the third day of school, Mrs. Cat-Oh took the children to the library to look for the Gingerbread Man. No one saw him. Not even Isabel. But SUSAN saw the Gingerbread Man RUNNING and HIDING behind the books!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the fourth day of school, Mrs. Cat-Oh took the children to the OFFICE to look for the Gingerbread Man...but he wasn't there either!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6830/1051/1600/2fingers.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6830/1051/320/2fingers.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;On the fifth day of school, Mrs. Cat-Oh took the children to the Principal's Office to look for the Gingerbread Man. And guess what? He was IN the Principal's Office (and so was the Principal!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the fifth day of school, Isabel raised her hand with &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;2 fingers&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; showing perfectly. Mrs. Cat-Oh pointed at Isabel, smiled and nodded. Isabel went to the bathroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The end.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12895673-112658871895513212?l=goodnightisabel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://goodnightisabel.blogspot.com/feeds/112658871895513212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12895673&amp;postID=112658871895513212&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12895673/posts/default/112658871895513212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12895673/posts/default/112658871895513212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://goodnightisabel.blogspot.com/2005/09/two-fingers.html' title='Two Fingers'/><author><name>Janet Wendy, founder, Gen Plus</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09961557186626609411</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.eons.com/images/members/8/9/89195781_150x150.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12895673.post-112554364658766975</id><published>2005-08-31T19:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-02-04T08:37:41.026-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Other Stories'/><title type='text'>Buying the Things</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;This story as told by Isabel (pictures chosen by her as well!):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;One day, my Mom went shopping for new clothes for her daughter, Isabel...&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#33ffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;that's me!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;She bought some new clothes for me to wear for back to school. That's good. &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6830/1051/1600/shopping.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6830/1051/320/shopping.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She bought me TWO kinds of pajamas and one is called, &lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#66ff99;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"I feel PURRRFECT!"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;with a picture of a cat. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6830/1051/320/cat1.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;The other kind is &lt;/p&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"Dance"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6830/1051/320/dance1.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6830/1051/1600/dance.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;And that's it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And she bought me &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;pink&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;purple&lt;/span&gt;, white, &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;blue&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;...even chips. That's the end of my story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The end.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12895673-112554364658766975?l=goodnightisabel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://goodnightisabel.blogspot.com/feeds/112554364658766975/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12895673&amp;postID=112554364658766975&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12895673/posts/default/112554364658766975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12895673/posts/default/112554364658766975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://goodnightisabel.blogspot.com/2005/08/buying-things.html' title='Buying the Things'/><author><name>Janet Wendy, founder, Gen Plus</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09961557186626609411</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.eons.com/images/members/8/9/89195781_150x150.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12895673.post-112536789456221600</id><published>2005-08-29T18:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-02-04T08:38:06.519-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Other Stories'/><title type='text'>Hiccups</title><content type='html'>No story today. Just a funny anecdote.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My angel had the hiccups yesterday. From early morning till late afternoon. It was a long, hot day and around 4 pm, Isabel threw a tantrum. She's 5 1/2 so they are pretty rare nowadays...but this was an all-out, 10 pointer. I was proud of her ability to put it all out there. Not often you see what fourteen years old will be like so early on. &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6830/1051/1600/temper%20tantrum.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6830/1051/320/temper%20tantrum.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the middle of the tantrum, when it seemed like eardrums might pop, I went for tantrum stopper number 2 (TS2). (TS1 is to send her to hang out by herself, in her room, until she has control...and then she can come out. This usually works in less than a minute, since she doesn't want to cry all by herself.) TS2 is engaged when the tantrum lasts more than 5 minutes. If she hasn't stopped crying and screaming by 5 minutes, I know that another Mummy strategy needs to come into play.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TS2 involves going over to my child, looking her straight in the eye and telling her we are going to have a conversation. I gently help her get up, walk her into the living room and then gather her into my arms for a cuddle and "good cry." Now TS2 does NOT work if you use it before TS1...it would simply cause her to tantrum in my arms for 5 + minutes. TS2 is the strategy of last resort.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In this case, she was crying and hiccupping. And it didn't look like she was going to stop. So I calmly said, "Isabel, it's time to stop crying now." And with a look of utter distress, she said, "But Mummy, I can't stop &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;HICKING UP&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I said (trying not to laugh), "You can't stop &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#3366ff;"&gt;HICKING UP&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And she said, "No Mummy! I can't stop &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;HICKING UP&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And very quietly, and very respectfully (because I have great respect for the tantrum wizards), I said, "Do you mean...&lt;strong&gt;HICCUPPING&lt;/strong&gt;?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She stared at me. And we both cracked up. And cracked up again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;End of tantrum. New word for our family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hicking up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12895673-112536789456221600?l=goodnightisabel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://goodnightisabel.blogspot.com/feeds/112536789456221600/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12895673&amp;postID=112536789456221600&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12895673/posts/default/112536789456221600'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12895673/posts/default/112536789456221600'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://goodnightisabel.blogspot.com/2005/08/hiccups.html' title='Hiccups'/><author><name>Janet Wendy, founder, Gen Plus</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09961557186626609411</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.eons.com/images/members/8/9/89195781_150x150.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12895673.post-112450730904941410</id><published>2005-08-19T19:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-02-04T08:29:47.826-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Recipes'/><title type='text'>Isabel's Pizza</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6830/1051/1600/Pizza.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6830/1051/320/Pizza.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once upon a time, there was a little girl named Isabel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She thought she loved pizza.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So she and her Mummy went to the store (they called it TJ's) to pick up some pizza dough, some pizza sauce and some shredded mozzarella cheese.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They were going to make homemade pizza.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the same time, her Mummy bought flour tortillas, some ketchup and some Kraft cheddar cheese. And strawberries. And green apples.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As soon as they got home Isabel raced into the kitchen and lickety split put on her chef's apron.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mummy, Mummy, QUICK," yelled Isabel. "Put on your apron!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So her Mummy put on her apron too. And the two of them started to sing,&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;"Ya ta da ta, ya ta da ta, ya da da ta ta TA....HEY! Ya ta da ta, ya ta da ta, ya&lt;/span&gt; da da ta ta TA....HEY!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then Isabel sang &lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Biscabo, bisgaba, bisgabababa...HEY! Biscaba, miscaba, giscamiscabata...HEY!"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, by this time, the flour was rolled out into a big, big circle of pizza crust. But now, it had to be flipped and tossed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the two of them started to sing, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#33cc00;"&gt;"Ya ta da ta, ya ta da ta, ya da da ta ta TA....HEY! Ya ta da ta, ya ta da ta, ya da da ta ta TA....HEY!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then Isabel sang &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;"Biscabo, bisgaba, bisgabababa...HEY! Biscaba, miscaba, giscamiscabata...HEY!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They flipped, plipped, and nipped the pizza crust and put it onto a pan. Then Isabel spooned pizza sauce all over the crust. Then her Mummy AND Isabel plopped tons of shredded mozzarella cheese on top of the sauce.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With that, they were ready to put it in the oven. While the pizza was baking, Isabel set the table ALL by herself, singing, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;"Ya ta da ta, ya ta da ta, ya da da ta ta TA....HEY! Ya ta da ta, ya ta da ta, ya da da ta ta TA....HEY!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then her Mummy sang&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ffccff;"&gt;"Biscabo, bisgaba, bisgabababa...HEY! Biscaba, miscaba, giscamiscabata...HEY!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, finally, the pizza was ready. Isabel's Mummy took the pizza out of the oven, cut it into big slices and put them on the table. They waited a few minutes for the pizza to cool down, but while they were waiting, Isabel was SO excited that she kept jumping up and down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pizza was cool. Isabel sat down and took a big, big bite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#996633;"&gt;"BLEEEAAAAHHH!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; groaned Isabel as she spat the pizza back out onto her plate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her Mummy looked at her in amazement and a little bit of horror!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Isabel? You told me you LOVE pizza."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isabel began to cry. "I guess I only THOUGHT I loved pizza. I HATE it!!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her Mummy gave her a hug and began to laugh. "Come on," she said. "Let's go make a tortilla grilled cheese sandwich. We'll put a little ketchup on it and call it Isabel's pizza. What do you think about that?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Great," stated Isabel. And they headed back to the kitchen. &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6830/1051/1600/cheese.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6830/1051/320/cheese.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Isabel and her Mummy started to sing, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;"Ya ta da ta, ya ta da ta, ya da da ta ta TA....HEY! Ya ta da ta, ya ta da ta, ya da da ta ta TA....HEY!"&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then Isabel sang &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;"Biscabo, bisgaba, bisgabababa...HEY! Biscaba, miscaba, giscamiscabata...HEY!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12895673-112450730904941410?l=goodnightisabel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://goodnightisabel.blogspot.com/feeds/112450730904941410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12895673&amp;postID=112450730904941410&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12895673/posts/default/112450730904941410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12895673/posts/default/112450730904941410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://goodnightisabel.blogspot.com/2005/08/isabels-pizza.html' title='Isabel&apos;s Pizza'/><author><name>Janet Wendy, founder, Gen Plus</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09961557186626609411</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.eons.com/images/members/8/9/89195781_150x150.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12895673.post-112296456140192412</id><published>2005-08-01T23:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-02-04T08:25:05.743-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bedtime Stories'/><title type='text'>Monster Bubbles</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Tonight, for some reason, Isabel was afraid to be alone in the dark. She was worried about Monsters. She knows that there are no such things as Monsters...but I guess, at 5 1/2, lying in the dark, Mummy's arm wrapped around her tiny little chest, seems like mighty protection from any lurking Monster types that may be lying around in wait. So we had to get rid of them...quick!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once upon a time, a long time ago, a little girl named Isabel, lived in a pretty little house in California. It was called a bungalow because the house was all on one floor. There was no upstairs and there was no downstairs. No attic. No basement. Just floor and then the ground under the house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, for a little girl, like Isabel, the only place that any Monster could be, was in the closet or under the bed. There were no other hiding places at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6830/1051/1600/underbed.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6830/1051/320/underbed.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In fact, once upon a time, when Isabel was really, really teeny (about 3 years old or so...) Mummy yelled out under all the beds in the house. She yelled, "There are &lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;NO&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Monsters allowed in my house. And I'm the Mummy. And this is my house. So IF there are any Monsters, this is your &lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;LAST&lt;/span&gt; chance to leave...&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;OR ELSE!!"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With that, Isabel's Mummy THREW open the front door to the house and yelled out REALLY loudly, &lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;"LAST CHANCE, STINKY MONSTERS...I'M COUNTING TO THREE. BY THE TIME I SAY THREE, YOU'D BETTER ALL BE OUT THE DOOR!!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now Isabel KNEW this was serious business, because when her Mummy counted to THREE, you listened pretty darn fast...or ELSE! (or ELSE could mean no TV, no VIDEO and the worst...NO chocolate chip cookie.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;"ONE!"&lt;/span&gt; yelled Isabel's Mummy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;"TWO!"&lt;/span&gt; she yelled even louder. She gave Isabel a BIG smile. And together, Isabel and Mummy yelled,&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"THREEEEEEE!!!!"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; And then Mummy shut the door with a bang and a crash.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She smacked her hands together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"There!" she said. "All gone."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Isabel and Mummy climbed right into bed and had a great sleep. But now, Isabel was 5 1/2 and for some reason, tonight she was really, really afraid that a Monster would be in her room in the dark. So her Mummy told her the secret trick to REALLY, REALLY getting rid of Monsters even faster than counting to THREE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Isabel," Mummy said, "Why do you think Monsters are SO big? Why do you think they act SO scary?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't know, Mummy!" exclaimed Isabel, her eyes a little bit wide.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Because, silly," laughed Mummy. "They're &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;TICKLISH!!!!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No way!" exclaimed Isabel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"YES, WAY!" said Mummy. "When a Monster is being big and scary, anyone, even a little kid can get rid of them like this!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And she snapped her fingers. Isabel snapped her fingers too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"When a Monster is trying to be scary, just tickle them in their armpit! They'll giggle...teehee! Then they turn into a bubble and pop! No more Monster."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isabel looked at her Mummy in amazement. "They turn into a BUBBLE?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mmm-hmm," said Mummy. "And then they &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;POP!"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And two seconds later, Isabel was asleep. With a humongous smile on her face as she dreamed of tickling and popping Monsters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Copyright Wendy Spiegel, Los Angeles, California 2005. All rights reserved.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12895673-112296456140192412?l=goodnightisabel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://goodnightisabel.blogspot.com/feeds/112296456140192412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12895673&amp;postID=112296456140192412&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12895673/posts/default/112296456140192412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12895673/posts/default/112296456140192412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://goodnightisabel.blogspot.com/2005/08/monster-bubbles.html' title='Monster Bubbles'/><author><name>Janet Wendy, founder, Gen Plus</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09961557186626609411</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.eons.com/images/members/8/9/89195781_150x150.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12895673.post-111760224838845485</id><published>2005-07-01T21:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-02-04T08:24:16.941-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bedtime Stories'/><title type='text'>Inch Worm</title><content type='html'>Once upon a time, there lived a beautiful princess, Ruby Red. Ruby Red loved the color...red! She has red dresses, red ribbons, red shoes, red tights and even red underwear. One day, a handsome prince came to visit her and asked her for her hand in marriage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ruby Red said, "Thanks handsome prince, but I'm not quite ready yet. But I'm flattered that you asked! I must say no!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With that the Prince grabbed Ruby Red and fled with her. You see, the Prince was really the Nasty Wizard of Badness. The Nasty Wizard was pretty nasty. He had orange hair, like straw, a squiggly mouth, dirty teeth with drool coming down his chin, blechy eyes, and HORRIBLE breath. He took Ruby Red and flew off on the back of his big dragon (flappeta-flappeta-flappeta) until they came to a tall tower. The Nasty Wizard locked Ruby Red in the tower.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After several days, Ruby Red was so sad that she started to cry as she was leaning out her tiny window. Plop! A tear fell down 100 feet and landed on the head of an Inch Worm! &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6830/1051/1600/inchworm.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6830/1051/320/inchworm.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hey!" cried out Inch Worm, "Cut that out up there!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And another tear promptly came crashing down upon his head. Well, that was quite enough for Inch Worm and he started to clim up the tower to give Ruby Red a piece of his mind! Now Inch Worm was only able to move an inch at a time...so it took him ALL day to get to Ruby Red. But when he got there, he yelled out at her, "HEY! You! Princess! Yeah...you! I'm talking to you!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But Ruby Red was crying so hard that she couldn't hear his teeny voice. It took him another hour, but he inched his way right next to her and yelled, "HEY! Princess!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That time Ruby Red noticed Inch Worm and she was just about to flick him out the window, when he cried, "STOP! You'll be sorry if you toss me...you hear?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She looked at the Inch Worm in amazement. She stopped crying. "You speak?" she asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Of course I speak, Lady! And I'm telling you to stop crying for good because you are washing me out of house and home!" yelled Inch Worm. "And what are you crying for anyway?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ruby Red told him the story of how she got locked in the tower and how she couldn't get out of the room. Inch Worm asked, "Why don't you just use the key?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ruby Red said there was no key.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, there's no key in her, but there has to be one out there," he said, motioning to the door. "If I get you outta here, will you do one thing for me?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Of course I would!" exclaimed Ruby Red.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Okay. Then this is what it is. I get you out, and you give me a big old kiss right on the head. Deal?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ruby Red thought for only a minute, cuz even though the thought of kissing a slimy worm was totally gross, she would rather do that than stay locked in the tower.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"DEAL!" she replied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She carried Inch Worm to the bottom of the door where he crawled under and about an hour later crawled back into Ruby Red's room...with the key on his back!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, thank you, Inch Worm, THANK YOU!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She quickly unlocked the door, ran out the room and down the stairs. She was so excited to escape that she promptly forgot her promise to Inch Worm. It took Inch Worm three days and forty five minutes to inch his way down from the tower back to his little home. But he was mighty steamed at Ruby Red, I can tell you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, all of a sudden, four and one half days later, Ruby Red remembered her promise! She jumped up, very ashamed of herself for forgetting. Wearing a disguise so that the Wizard wouldn't recognize her, she made her way back to the tower where she called out Inch Worm's name.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Inch Worm...Inch Worm...where are you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Inch Worm poked out his head and said, "Oh. It's you. So nice of you to remember your promise." He started to yell at her, but before he could get out another word, Ruby Red picked him up and gave him a big kiss on the head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of a sudden, Inch Worm started to change shape and lo and behold...presto chango...Inch Worm turned into...a BOY! Who was just the same age as Ruby Red!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Wow," said Ruby Red. "That was super cool."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the Boy, whose real name was Prince Joshua, became Ruby Red's best friend and from that moment on, they played together (very nicely too, I might add) every single day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Copyright Wendy Spiegel, Los Angeles, California 2005. All rights reserved.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12895673-111760224838845485?l=goodnightisabel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://goodnightisabel.blogspot.com/feeds/111760224838845485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12895673&amp;postID=111760224838845485&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12895673/posts/default/111760224838845485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12895673/posts/default/111760224838845485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://goodnightisabel.blogspot.com/2005/07/inch-worm.html' title='Inch Worm'/><author><name>Janet Wendy, founder, Gen Plus</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09961557186626609411</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.eons.com/images/members/8/9/89195781_150x150.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12895673.post-112014455441855827</id><published>2005-06-30T07:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-02-04T08:20:54.949-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Recipes'/><title type='text'>Not a bedtime story: Isabel's favorite recipes</title><content type='html'>Isabel's favorite recipes are:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jelly Roll Pancakes (but we put in chocolate chips instead of jelly)&lt;br /&gt;Brownies (with chocolate chips)&lt;br /&gt;Yummy Crunchy Pancakes (with white chocolate chips on top)&lt;br /&gt;Cheese Quesadilla (no chocolate chips, but she likes strawberries on the side)&lt;br /&gt;Chocolate Chip Cookies&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is our recipe for Jelly Roll Pancakes which is very dependent upon your desire to use your hands vs. measures to bake or cook! Make sure to put on aprons on you and your kiddle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heat griddle or fry pan to med. high heat. Pan is ready when drops of water "ball" on the pan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a bowl mix:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 eggs&lt;br /&gt;A good splash of milk&lt;br /&gt;Two dashes of salt&lt;br /&gt;A big pinch of sugar&lt;br /&gt;1/2 cap of pure vanilla extract&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whip it up well until airy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Add in 2 fistfuls of flour. Stir. The consistency needs to be thicker than liquid, but not as thick as regular pancakes...so kind of like melted chocolate. When you ladle it out, it should flow easily into the pan and spread quickly into a circle. If the mix is too thick, add water by the Tbsp-full until it thins out. If too thin, add small amounts of flour (a Tbsp at a time) until it thickens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Put a pat of butter in the pan and ladle about 6 tbsp-worth right in the middle of the pan. Let is brown on one side, flip to the other, let it brown and take out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When your crepe is on the plate, put whatever filling you'd like along one half of the pancake and then roll it up and Presto! You have a rolled pancake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of our faves:&lt;br /&gt;White and milk chocolate chips&lt;br /&gt;Nutella with strawberries&lt;br /&gt;Peanut butter with thin apple slices&lt;br /&gt;CoolWhip and anything!&lt;br /&gt;Berry bonanza (raspberries, strawberries, blackberries and blueberries)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Send us pics of your best Jelly Roll Pancake and we'll post them!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have fun.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12895673-112014455441855827?l=goodnightisabel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://goodnightisabel.blogspot.com/feeds/112014455441855827/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12895673&amp;postID=112014455441855827&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12895673/posts/default/112014455441855827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12895673/posts/default/112014455441855827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://goodnightisabel.blogspot.com/2005/06/not-bedtime-story-isabels-favorite.html' title='Not a bedtime story: Isabel&apos;s favorite recipes'/><author><name>Janet Wendy, founder, Gen Plus</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09961557186626609411</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.eons.com/images/members/8/9/89195781_150x150.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12895673.post-111956628903036320</id><published>2005-06-23T15:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-02-04T08:20:00.154-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bedtime Stories'/><title type='text'>Pink!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Is&lt;strong&gt;abel loves dragons. Especially if they are pink. So this is a story about a pink dragon.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once upon a time, a long time ago, and far, far away, there lived a little girl. Her name was....Isabel. Isabel loved geography. She loved to look at a big, big world atlas and have her Mummy tell her all the names of the different cities, and states, and countries. She knew the names of countries like Canada, China, Spain and Japan. And she wanted to visit them all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In her life, so far (Isabel was 5 years old), Isabel had travelled to Montreal and Vancouver, and to Hawaii, Santa Barbara, San Diego, Palm Springs, Sedona, Phoenix, Dallas, New York, Long Island and Boston! Quite a lot of places.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But she really, really wanted to go to China and especially to Japan. So she went to the kitchen and packed a lunch of chips, cookies, a piece of string cheese, 4 strawberries, one kiwi, a tortilla, and a Kool-aid Jammer. She put them into her little pink Barbie lunchbox, packed her rolling pink suitcase with her bathing suit, some PJ's, her Squishy pillow, her toothbrush and 3 books. She went outside and called at the top of her lungs, "PINKY!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"PINKY!!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And all of a sudden the ground started to shake and trees to bend and with a flappita-flappita-flap, a humongous pink dragon appeared, snorting pink smoke from his nostrils!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Pinky!" Isabel cried out. "You made it!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pinky smiled the way dragons do...which really is not very well at all. A little whiff of pink smoke drifted out of his nose and a big plop of drool fell out the side of his mouth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, yuck!" commented Isabel. And she made her way onto Pinky's back as he tucked her suitcase under his left wing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Pinky," Isabel commanded, "We are going to CHINA!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, off they went. Flippity-flappiting through the air. They passed mountains and oceans, saw whales and birds, and waved to polar bears. Well, Isabel was mighty hungry, so they stopped a the South Pole for lunch (they had taken the scenic route!) After lunch, they headed off to China.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isabel saw a long, long line running through all of China. As they started to land, it got bigger, and bigger and bigger. She exclaimed to Pinky,"It's a big, big wall!" Once they landed Isabel ran all over the place asking everyone she saw about the wall. Unfortunately, no one spoke English. So Isabel decided that she was going to learn Chinese when she returned home to Los Angeles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other little problem was that the Chinese men and women were very, very scared of Pinky and started running around and screaming. None of the children were afraid. And Isabel couldn't understand why the grownups were so afraid of Pinky, especially since every book she had seen on China always had pictures of huge dragons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, Pinky didn't want to get into trouble, so he gently nudged Isabel. She sighed, "OK, OK, Pinky. I get it....time to go home."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She climbed on Pinky's back and they went back to Los Angeles (stopping for a snack at the North Pole.) Of course, Isabel was quite disappointed that she hadn't had time to visit cities like Shanghai or Beijing which had such great names OR that she couldn't eat any real Chinese food or get a real Chinese fortune cookie. But all in all, she agreed with Pinky that it had been a great day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Tomorrow, Pinky," declared Isabel once they had returned to her house, "Tomorrow...we'll go to Japan."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12895673-111956628903036320?l=goodnightisabel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://goodnightisabel.blogspot.com/feeds/111956628903036320/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12895673&amp;postID=111956628903036320&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12895673/posts/default/111956628903036320'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12895673/posts/default/111956628903036320'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://goodnightisabel.blogspot.com/2005/06/pink.html' title='Pink!'/><author><name>Janet Wendy, founder, Gen Plus</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09961557186626609411</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.eons.com/images/members/8/9/89195781_150x150.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12895673.post-111933177550785330</id><published>2005-06-20T22:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-02-04T08:19:41.581-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bedtime Stories'/><title type='text'>Toilet paper!</title><content type='html'>My daughter is fascinated by toilet paper and what does or does not clog a toilet. Yesterday, while she was enjoying the bathroom at Ralph's Grocery store, she asked me to tell her a story. Here is it:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once upon a time, a long time ago, in a faraway land, lived a little girl. Do you know what her name was? Rose? No. Emma? No. Isabel? YES! It WAS Isabel. Isabel LOVED toilet paper. In Isabel's house, her Mummy had a rule. 5 squares of toilet paper. And that was it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, on this day, Isabel took 5 squares of toilet paper. And another 5 squares, and another and another...and before you knew it, the ENTIRE roll of toilet paper was in the toilet. So, of course, Isabel....flushed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oops.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The water started to come up and up until it overflowed all over the floor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"MUMMY!" yelled out Isabel, in a panic. "Come quick. The toilet is making water go all over the floor!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her Mummy ran into the bathroom as fast as fast could be. Took one look at the toilet and exclaimed, "ISABEL! How MUCH toilet paper is IN that toilet????"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isabel's Mummy ran out of the bathroom to get her rubber gloves and a garbage bag, lickety split. She returned and scooped out gobs and gobs of disgusting, gooey toilet paper out of the toilet and tossed it into the garbage bag. Finally she was able to get the plunger into the toilet and plunge and plunge until....WHOOSH...the water went down the toilet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isabel's Mummy looked at Isabel and with a pretty steady voice, said, "Isabel...don't do that again. Capiche?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In their family, whenever something was pretty serious, her mom said "Capiche." It meant "Understand?" in Italian. Whenever Isabel's mom said "Capiche" you knew it was pretty bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isabel looked at her mom. "Capiche," she replied, looking kind of sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"And next time, Isabel," started her mom, "how many squares?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Five squares, Mummy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's right Isabel. Five squares."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They mopped up the floor, washed their hands really well with soap and water, and Isabel's Mummy put Isabel to bed. She gave Isabel a cup of cocoa, a kiss, a hug and a squish. It had been a big mess, but all in all, still kind of funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because when Isabel's Mummy was 5 years old, she put a whole roll of toilet paper in the toilet too. Shhhh. Don't tell Isabel. Her Mummy will tell her when she turns 6!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12895673-111933177550785330?l=goodnightisabel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://goodnightisabel.blogspot.com/feeds/111933177550785330/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12895673&amp;postID=111933177550785330&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12895673/posts/default/111933177550785330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12895673/posts/default/111933177550785330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://goodnightisabel.blogspot.com/2005/06/toilet-paper.html' title='Toilet paper!'/><author><name>Janet Wendy, founder, Gen Plus</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09961557186626609411</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.eons.com/images/members/8/9/89195781_150x150.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12895673.post-111621921400902245</id><published>2005-05-15T21:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-02-04T08:17:20.836-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bedtime Stories'/><title type='text'>Count me to Sleep</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Note: I discovered early on, when my daughter was two, that if I counted in the bedtime story, she would fall asleep by 20. At five years of age, sometimes I need to count to 60, however, many nights my daughter now asks me to count her to sleep! Here is one story, but you can make up millions of them.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once upon a time, there was a little princess and her name was...Isabel. She was the most beautiful princess in the world. Her favorite color was...pink. Her dresses were pink, her shoes were pink, her hair was pink and her wand was pink. She had a wand because she wasn't just any old princess...she was a magical princess! She had a cousin, a prince, whose name was Joshua. His favorite color was...blue! He wore blue clothes, had a blue horse, blue running shoes AND a blue sword.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day, Joshua called Isabel on the phone. "ISABEL!" he yelled across the phone line. "Can you come over and play?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Okay, JOSHUA!!" yelled back Isabel. "Where are you playing?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"In my tower!" yelled back Joshua. "Just yell when you come over!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"OKAY! BYE!" Isabel hung up the phone and called out for her pet dragon. "Pinky!" she called.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Flap, flap, flap. Out flew Pinky, Isabel's pink dragon. Isabel clambered onto Pinky's back and off they flew to Joshua's castle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When they got there, Pinky flew away before Isabel had time to call out to Joshua. For some reason, the stairs were gone! So Isabel took out her wand and said, "Abracadabra, ziggeldy zairs, when I wave my wand, make some pink stairs!" And presto, alacazam, beautiful pink stairs appeared...all the way up to the tower.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isabel started to climb &lt;em&gt;(Note: Parents, this is where you start counting.)&lt;/em&gt; One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. When Isabel got to the tenth stair, she was zonked! So she took out her wand and said, "Abracadabra, ziggeldy zed, when I wave my wand, make me a pink bed!" And presto, alacazam, a beautiful pink bed appeared. Isabel was very tired, so she said to herself, "I'll close my eyes to twenty and then I'll start climbing again."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;(Note, Parents...keep counting. By the time you get to twenty your little'un will be asleep. If not, have him/her climb another ten or twenty stairs and then have her/him summon a snack and then a bench for another rest of twenty. I guarantee, one of you will be asleep shortly.)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Copyright Wendy Spiegel, Los Angeles, CA, 2005. All rights reserved.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12895673-111621921400902245?l=goodnightisabel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://goodnightisabel.blogspot.com/feeds/111621921400902245/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12895673&amp;postID=111621921400902245&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12895673/posts/default/111621921400902245'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12895673/posts/default/111621921400902245'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://goodnightisabel.blogspot.com/2005/05/count-me-to-sleep.html' title='Count me to Sleep'/><author><name>Janet Wendy, founder, Gen Plus</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09961557186626609411</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.eons.com/images/members/8/9/89195781_150x150.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12895673.post-111609207253702334</id><published>2005-05-14T10:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-02-04T08:17:35.768-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bedtime Stories'/><title type='text'>Squishy Buishy</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Once upon a time, there was a little girl whose name was Buishy. She loved her mama, whose name was Mama Buishy. Buishy had a pillow...a squishy pillow, named Squishy Buishy. Buishy would sit on the floor of her room and hold her pillow, chanting, "Squishy Buishy, Squishy Buishy, Squishy Buishy!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day, Buishy was with Mama Buishy at the park and Buishy's friend Muishy Buishy passed by.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hi Buishy," called out Muishy Buishy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hi Muishy Buishy," replied Buishy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Muishy Buishy sat down next to Buishy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Can I play with Squishy Buishy?" asked Muishy Buishy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No!" exclaimed Buishy, holding tightly to Squishy Buishy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Buishy started chanting, "Squishy Buishy, Squishy Buishy, Squishy Buishy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Muishy Buishy replied, "Muishy Buishy, Muishy Buishy, Muishy Buishy!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just then, their little friend, Buishy Buishy, ALSO passed by and called out, "Hi Buishy! Hi Muishy Buishy! Can I play with Squishy Buishy?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"NO!" shouted BOTH Buishy and Muishy Buishy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now all three of them sat on the ground and ALL three of them were yelling at the top of their lungs!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Squishy Buishy, Squishy Buishy, Squishy Buishy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Muishy Buishy, Muishy Buishy, Muishy Buishy!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Buishy Buishy! Buishy Buishy! Buishy Buishy!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, Mama Buishy had had enough!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Girls!" She shouted. "Stop with all the Buishy's! You are driving me NUTS!" Mama Buishy picked up Squishy Buishy and ordered, " Enough playing! Squishy Buishy and Buishy are leaving the park! Good-bye! See you tomorrow! Go home everyone!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the girls sighed a big, "AAAAAAHHHHH!" and then a sad "Bye-bye!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then as they all headed their separate ways, under their breathes you could just hear the chants saying, "Squishy Buishy, Muishy Buishy, Buishy Buishy..." all the way home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Copyright Wendy Spiegel, Los Angeles, California 2005. All rights reserved.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12895673-111609207253702334?l=goodnightisabel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://goodnightisabel.blogspot.com/feeds/111609207253702334/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12895673&amp;postID=111609207253702334&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12895673/posts/default/111609207253702334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12895673/posts/default/111609207253702334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://goodnightisabel.blogspot.com/2005/05/squishy-buishy.html' title='Squishy Buishy'/><author><name>Janet Wendy, founder, Gen Plus</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09961557186626609411</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.eons.com/images/members/8/9/89195781_150x150.jpeg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
