<?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-6827714604218801431</id><updated>2011-12-24T12:10:03.626-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Candle Ends</title><subtitle type='html'>His intimate friends called him "Candle-ends,"
     And his enemies "Toasted-cheese."</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>76</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-2478021433009592321</id><published>2011-12-21T08:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-21T08:31:30.746-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It's been a lot of fun watching Misha these past few months and his social abilities develop.  He is expressing his wants really well.  He is really good at expressing his dislikes as well.  He has even picked up "I don't love you" from Boba.  Baba Liza brought over from her last trip a computer animated cartoon series from Russia which is much better quality than they have had in the past.  Misha loves it and asks to watch it almost every day.  And he sits there and laughs hysterically at it every time.  He also lets you know when he is "very, very tired."  I think that phrase comes from Mom.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He transitioned to the district autism program.  They changed his initial diagnosis from developmentally delayed to autism spectrum so he would qualify for the services (according to the district psychiatrist, he tests within the spectrum).  This is good because the autism programs tend to have a really well-structured program that helps a lot with Misha's attention span.  His canned response on what he did in school today is expanding too.   He will mention some things he did instead of the traditional "I played." or "Fun" responses.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;With Boba transitioning into Primary from Nursery, we figured it was time to move Misha out too.  It will be interesting to see how he does this year.  I know he can handle it as he goes to school full day, but will he enjoy it...or will he benefit from it.  We'll see.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-2478021433009592321?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/2478021433009592321/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=2478021433009592321' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/2478021433009592321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/2478021433009592321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2011/12/its-been-lot-of-fun-watching-misha.html' title=''/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-6796937154567969485</id><published>2011-08-26T11:39:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-26T12:15:18.057-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Haven't had much to say, that's why.</title><content type='html'>Yah, I know.  I haven't blogged much.  Been busy.  Summer time...you know.  Ira was taking ESL classes this summer, so I played Mr. Mom whilst she conjugated verbs and played around with past perfective participles or whatever they are.  We've been camping a couple of times, been to Ira's friend's cabin a couple of times, but not much else. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I started my job in March, I knew that it was going to be tough to meet my financial goals...or even keep at the level we were are when we were laid off mainly cause I had taken a 5-6% hit.  We managed to bank most of my severance and also the consulting I did.  But it wasn't enough.  My goals are simple really:  Pay the bills, pay the mortgage, pay tithing, put money away, take the wife to dinner.  Not big goals.  It wasn't long til I came to the understanding that something was going to have to change.  So I started interviewing again.  If someone wanted to torture me, all they would have to do is make me do interviews.  We hates them, we does.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So about 6 weeks ago, I interviewed at a well known place in the valley.  My immediate feedback from the interview was really positive.  I was quite hopeful of getting an offer...and I waited.  Waited.  Waited.  Finally my source there told me that the senior management had decided to go with the "other guy".  I was disappointed but that's life.  I know I do not interview well. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So time passed...so did some more interviews.  A couple of weeks ago Friday, my source chatted me and told me I should be expecting some good news.  And good news it was.  I got an offer which was beyond my expectations and I decided to go with it.  What I found was that my old work didn't want to let me go.  But I kept with my decision after some internal wrestling.  So off I go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-6796937154567969485?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/6796937154567969485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=6796937154567969485' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/6796937154567969485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/6796937154567969485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2011/08/havent-had-much-to-say-thats-why.html' title='Haven&apos;t had much to say, that&apos;s why.'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-4417891461964712637</id><published>2011-03-23T15:45:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-23T15:52:37.827-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Update</title><content type='html'>So, after a couple of long months being unemployed, I finally landed.  It's a well established company that has been around since the 50s.  Here's a hint.  It has something to do with cows.  Yes, I said cows.  Also banking.  But not banking cows...as far as I know.  I also am busy in the evenings doing contract work for one of my old company's clients that was left unhappy with the previous contractors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ira is as busy as ever and finally decided that home schooling was more work than she wanted to deal with, which interestingly enough coincided with me going back to work and the end of her vacation from it all.  It's about time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Misha is talking up a storm.  He is learning to speak sentences instead of phrases and at school they are working on him saying things in 1st person, not 3rd person. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boba has finally stopped getting up before 6:30, but that doesn't matter cause I get up before then anyway.  While I was on a call the other day, Boba babysat Misha cause Ira had to run the kids and baba around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than that life is calm.  Very, very calm.  And that is good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-4417891461964712637?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/4417891461964712637/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=4417891461964712637' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/4417891461964712637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/4417891461964712637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2011/03/update.html' title='Update'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-7766388492854507964</id><published>2011-02-13T14:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-13T14:18:37.236-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I take the challenge!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xgzCuBMVW6U/TVhYcCWkZJI/AAAAAAAAASo/SXJNbgtHk7Y/s1600/youcanbeapunkrockertoo2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xgzCuBMVW6U/TVhYcCWkZJI/AAAAAAAAASo/SXJNbgtHk7Y/s320/youcanbeapunkrockertoo2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5573301777562100882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I dunno.  The hair really isn't me.  To see the original:  &lt;a href="http://fourboysonegirl.blogspot.com/2011/02/you-can-be-as-pretty-as-me-challenge.html"&gt; http://fourboysonegirl.blogspot.com/2011/02/you-can-be-as-pretty-as-me-challenge.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="file:///C:/Users/Josh/AppData/Local/Temp/moz-screenshot.png" alt="" /&gt;&lt;img src="file:///C:/Users/Josh/AppData/Local/Temp/moz-screenshot-1.png" alt="" /&gt;&lt;img src="file:///C:/Users/Josh/AppData/Local/Temp/moz-screenshot-2.png" alt="" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-7766388492854507964?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/7766388492854507964/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=7766388492854507964' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/7766388492854507964'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/7766388492854507964'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2011/02/i-take-challenge.html' title='I take the challenge!'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xgzCuBMVW6U/TVhYcCWkZJI/AAAAAAAAASo/SXJNbgtHk7Y/s72-c/youcanbeapunkrockertoo2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-6694819366215278341</id><published>2011-01-04T14:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-05T12:21:52.324-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Winter</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Me in Sydney.  Spent 2 weeks before Thanksgiving and 2 after consulting onsite at a client.&lt;br /&gt;Me at the Opera House right outside the Royal Botanical Gardens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/TSOlILC9sCI/AAAAAAAAARM/1Dk1o0TBxsg/s1600/S7301544.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/TSOlILC9sCI/AAAAAAAAARM/1Dk1o0TBxsg/s320/S7301544.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558467924928081954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Palm and Christmas trees side by side....it ain't right.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/TSOmx_4zBkI/AAAAAAAAASE/8re3YVqk_pQ/s1600/S7301663.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/TSOmx_4zBkI/AAAAAAAAASE/8re3YVqk_pQ/s320/S7301663.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558469742998783554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;This is much better.  A 3 story tree in a department store.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/TSOlcVj4jjI/AAAAAAAAARc/B5aqkDB-3nw/s1600/S7301565.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/TSOlcVj4jjI/AAAAAAAAARc/B5aqkDB-3nw/s320/S7301565.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558468271347895858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went to the zoo one weekend. We thought these were fake until I saw one move.  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/TSOmkOKfjAI/AAAAAAAAAR8/5sxQ1kUFwL0/s1600/S7301639.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/TSOmkOKfjAI/AAAAAAAAAR8/5sxQ1kUFwL0/s320/S7301639.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558469506312932354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A view of my work and hotel from the Sydney Tower.  I worked in the building second from the right.  I stayed in the Marriott 6th from the right, bordering Hyde Park.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/TSOluJw5XLI/AAAAAAAAARk/ObekTzx3mjM/s1600/S7301592.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/TSOluJw5XLI/AAAAAAAAARk/ObekTzx3mjM/s320/S7301592.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558468577418894514" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A view from work out upon Sydney Central over Hyde Park.  The opera house is the two white triangles poking out left of middle.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/TSOlS7CwKmI/AAAAAAAAARU/yc9OktST_B8/s1600/S7301555.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/TSOlS7CwKmI/AAAAAAAAARU/yc9OktST_B8/s320/S7301555.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558468109610789474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The deadliest snakes on Earth.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/TSOmFaAegZI/AAAAAAAAAR0/dIdWRhD1eXE/s1600/S7301635.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/TSOmFaAegZI/AAAAAAAAAR0/dIdWRhD1eXE/s320/S7301635.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558468976916201874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Dory, maybe.  But I can't remember.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/TSOl68atv3I/AAAAAAAAARs/B31Qu5Fpk2A/s1600/S7301611.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/TSOl68atv3I/AAAAAAAAARs/B31Qu5Fpk2A/s320/S7301611.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558468797174497138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I came home to cold, snow, layoffs, Christmas and the inevitable Russian New Year's Party.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/TSTPCB29yhI/AAAAAAAAASM/_LKs6AB7IsI/s1600/DSC_0497.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/TSTPCB29yhI/AAAAAAAAASM/_LKs6AB7IsI/s320/DSC_0497.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558795473847699986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dasha lying around on the job instead of sledding.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/TSTPQKAACtI/AAAAAAAAASU/6Bej5PvCblM/s1600/DSC_0591.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/TSTPQKAACtI/AAAAAAAAASU/6Bej5PvCblM/s320/DSC_0591.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558795716551248594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ira and Misha sure had fun.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/TSTPaSnSh-I/AAAAAAAAASc/6jhPac2-eKg/s1600/DSC_0676.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/TSTPaSnSh-I/AAAAAAAAASc/6jhPac2-eKg/s320/DSC_0676.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558795890662213602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-6694819366215278341?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/6694819366215278341/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=6694819366215278341' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/6694819366215278341'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/6694819366215278341'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2011/01/winter.html' title='Winter'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/TSOlILC9sCI/AAAAAAAAARM/1Dk1o0TBxsg/s72-c/S7301544.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-3689010380035901364</id><published>2010-12-17T17:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-21T12:59:44.161-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Long overdue update</title><content type='html'>Since it seems I will be having a load of free time on my hands in the near future, and considering I have been remiss in blogging the last while, it seems like a good time catch up.   So what's been happening you ask?  Well:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Asya turned 11. People in our new ward call her "Lee" (that's what she told them her name was when we moved in.  It catches me off guard every time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/TREPJSsDObI/AAAAAAAAAPw/IVL72bu0vok/s1600/DSC_0387.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/TREPJSsDObI/AAAAAAAAAPw/IVL72bu0vok/s320/DSC_0387.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5553236467834370482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ira and I went camping by ourselves and Ira made me go "plain air" painting.  I won't show you my painting.  I am hoping it was destroyed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/TREP71zp05I/AAAAAAAAAP4/onUOer0J_ww/s1600/DSC_0442.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/TREP71zp05I/AAAAAAAAAP4/onUOer0J_ww/s320/DSC_0442.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5553237336254960530" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We had our 3rd(?) annual Harding Family Reunion at Heber Valley.  Ira had the kids doing all sorts of projects like sculpting and boat making.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/TREQ7dLU3tI/AAAAAAAAAQA/a4Tke0Eo664/s1600/DSC_0601.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/TREQ7dLU3tI/AAAAAAAAAQA/a4Tke0Eo664/s320/DSC_0601.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5553238429154991826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Good thing the boys were around to save us all from the big, ole' scary...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/TRERFsCcAEI/AAAAAAAAAQI/6Bb7U-kPq2c/s1600/DSC_0613.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/TRERFsCcAEI/AAAAAAAAAQI/6Bb7U-kPq2c/s320/DSC_0613.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5553238604942934082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;...chipmunk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/TRERVc4os0I/AAAAAAAAAQQ/Bt0HzTbq9ZY/s1600/DSC_0615.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/TRERVc4os0I/AAAAAAAAAQQ/Bt0HzTbq9ZY/s320/DSC_0615.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5553238875753198402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/TRERFsCcAEI/AAAAAAAAAQI/6Bb7U-kPq2c/s1600/DSC_0613.JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;We also had several picnics, hikes, etc...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/TREQ7dLU3tI/AAAAAAAAAQA/a4Tke0Eo664/s1600/DSC_0601.JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/TRERgSudV4I/AAAAAAAAAQY/fuHZva_bKQM/s1600/DSC_0659.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/TRERgSudV4I/AAAAAAAAAQY/fuHZva_bKQM/s320/DSC_0659.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5553239062004717442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Misha turned 5 and really likes riding his new bike.  See how he smiles?!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/TRESyoz-FfI/AAAAAAAAAQg/fWcwZojyVlA/s1600/DSC_0753.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/TRESyoz-FfI/AAAAAAAAAQg/fWcwZojyVlA/s320/DSC_0753.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5553240476682687986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Blowing out his cake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/TRETkQK4_fI/AAAAAAAAAQw/a3Yj4-djE9U/s1600/DSC_0766.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/TRETkQK4_fI/AAAAAAAAAQw/a3Yj4-djE9U/s320/DSC_0766.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5553241329061395954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And our annual trek to the zoo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/TRET0xhI0vI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/omUo0wy-BNk/s1600/DSC_0886.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/TRET0xhI0vI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/omUo0wy-BNk/s320/DSC_0886.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5553241612890985202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And our annual Turkey Trot to Thanksgiving Rock in Dry Canyon...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/TREURg357DI/AAAAAAAAARA/1qfoQ-vzKiA/s1600/DSC_0324.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/TREURg357DI/AAAAAAAAARA/1qfoQ-vzKiA/s320/DSC_0324.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5553242106639281202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And I spent a month in Sydney.  I'll try to find the pictures (I took two different camera's on the trips so the SD cards are in different places.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-3689010380035901364?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/3689010380035901364/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=3689010380035901364' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/3689010380035901364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/3689010380035901364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2010/12/long-overdue-update.html' title='Long overdue update'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/TREPJSsDObI/AAAAAAAAAPw/IVL72bu0vok/s72-c/DSC_0387.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-4963366249345236707</id><published>2010-08-14T20:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-14T21:25:41.842-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Conference Stuff</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/TGdlqoVSOQI/AAAAAAAAANg/KtEqmY_gYUA/s1600/DSC_0187.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/TGdlqoVSOQI/AAAAAAAAANg/KtEqmY_gYUA/s320/DSC_0187.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505480852539324674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We finally made it to the 1p36 Deletion Support and Awareness conference this year.  It was, in a word,  awesome.  Finally we got to rub elbows, hob nob, and mix with all the people we have only see in .jpg format.  We found out some interesting facts on the genetics of it and got to listen to the panel of therapists answer questions on a wide variety of topics.&lt;br /&gt;The first day, it was just Ira and I and Misha.  The highlight of the day, of course, was Rachel Coleman.  As she was the first item on the first day, she was there when we arrived.  I pointed her out to Misha and asked him who that was.  He answered without hesitation "Signing Time".    Her presentation was a mix of songs for the kids and talking about her story for the adults.  And she was gracious enough to stay afterward for a photo shoot with any and all the families who desired.  After lunch, there was an optional activity at the Gateway fountain.  Misha didn't know what to think at first, but then he started running around himself to get soaked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/TGdpVrVDoqI/AAAAAAAAANo/wKlRf3hvzcQ/s1600/DSC_0229.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/TGdpVrVDoqI/AAAAAAAAANo/wKlRf3hvzcQ/s320/DSC_0229.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505484890612933282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;he next day, we brought the rest of the gang for the Sib Camp.  The kids thought it was great too.  As you can see, Nikolai was really enjoying a rich chocolate brownie in the hallway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks Nate, Melanie, Phoenix and the others who got it all organized.  It was great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We also went camping a couple of times with Ira's friends up above Sundance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/TGdq9JGMa4I/AAAAAAAAANw/CFAXbmmlUmE/s1600/DSC_0962.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/TGdq9JGMa4I/AAAAAAAAANw/CFAXbmmlUmE/s320/DSC_0962.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505486668130184066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/TGdrJVsMExI/AAAAAAAAAN4/Qlp-kFX6580/s1600/DSC_0972.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/TGdrJVsMExI/AAAAAAAAAN4/Qlp-kFX6580/s320/DSC_0972.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505486877669200658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And went on a hike to Stewart Falls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/TGdr3j15JuI/AAAAAAAAAOA/p5S3x6_hGTE/s1600/DSC_0358.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/TGdr3j15JuI/AAAAAAAAAOA/p5S3x6_hGTE/s320/DSC_0358.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505487671741982434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-4963366249345236707?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/4963366249345236707/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=4963366249345236707' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/4963366249345236707'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/4963366249345236707'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2010/08/conference-stuff.html' title='Conference Stuff'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/TGdlqoVSOQI/AAAAAAAAANg/KtEqmY_gYUA/s72-c/DSC_0187.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-5714850963687958835</id><published>2010-06-21T07:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-21T07:34:53.883-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Gobsmacked!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/TB90RYB0e4I/AAAAAAAAANQ/5T-z-b4X2l8/s1600/Ant.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 229px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/TB90RYB0e4I/AAAAAAAAANQ/5T-z-b4X2l8/s320/Ant.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485230713017236354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suppose I should tell you about the weekend before I get to the good stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday was Father &amp;amp; Son's.  Feeling brave, I decided to take Kiril, Misha and Nikolai with me.  I figured Kiril could help out with the two wee ones.  For the most part, it worked out.  We went up Diamond Fork.  The weather couldn't have been better.  I was perfect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got up there a bit after 5 and immediately set up.  I hate having to do that stuff later when you are tired and it's dark.  So I got the tent up, the pad inflated, sleeping bags laid out.  Kiril was running to the car and back, hauling our gear over.  His nose started bleeding and so his hands and arms were covered where he had wiped it off.   I was almost done, about to lay out the last sleeping bag, when I hear Nikolai start crying.  While Kiril had been running back and forth, Misha and Nikolai had kept close, just wandering around the tent.  So I sent Kiril over to look.  He brought Nikolai over, who was covered in ants. He was crying of course because they were busy biting him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent the next few minutes cleaning them off of him and squashing the little buggers.  They were everywhere.  In his hair, in his shirt, in his socks, in his diaper.  And the little buggers would latch on and not let go.  He was crying for about an hour.  He would cry and sob "Колучий!"  which means pokey or thorny.  And "больно!"-- "It hurts".  Finally getting him calmed down with food, we were able to settle in and enjoy the rest of the evening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During the night, Nikolai also got a bloody nose and we woke up with it all over his face, arms, hands, pajamas, and the air mattress.  But no one fell in the fire or in the river, so I call it a success.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During the course of the evening, Misha&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/TB91wz5x4lI/AAAAAAAAANY/6FU9N-DxOpE/s1600/gobsmacked.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 133px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/TB91wz5x4lI/AAAAAAAAANY/6FU9N-DxOpE/s320/gobsmacked.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485232352587276882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; was wandering about doing what Misha does.  At one point, he wandered over to where our dinner was, pointed at the bag of food with the word Taco on it and said, "Taco."  You may remember that I blogged about something like this &lt;a href="http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2010/04/can-misha-read.html"&gt;recently&lt;/a&gt;.  I didn't think much of it cause we had been pulling tacos out of the bag.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It kinda nagged at me though, so I decided to do an experiment yesterday.  I got a piece of paper and wrote "Taco" on it.  I called Misha over and pointed to it and asked him what it said.  He said "Taco".  As soon as Ira and I managed to get our jaws off of the floor we tried another word.  And another.  And another.  Misha successfully identified:  taco, Misha, pizza, cat, dog, Elmo, Dasha, and a few other words.  There were some he didn't know but he guessed at. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am guessing at this point that Misha is seeing the words as pictures.  He doesn't know all his letters yet, but he is very good at visual association.  I just had no idea he could read.  Today "taco", tomorrow Shakespeare!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-5714850963687958835?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/5714850963687958835/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=5714850963687958835' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/5714850963687958835'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/5714850963687958835'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2010/06/gobsmacked.html' title='Gobsmacked!'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/TB90RYB0e4I/AAAAAAAAANQ/5T-z-b4X2l8/s72-c/Ant.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-3819527420773494727</id><published>2010-05-12T12:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-12T12:23:34.187-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bed time ritual</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/S-r8Gd1r9XI/AAAAAAAAANI/YadEC0WBhkU/s1600/Little+Bear.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 203px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/S-r8Gd1r9XI/AAAAAAAAANI/YadEC0WBhkU/s320/Little+Bear.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470461885414110578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We have gotten Misha down to a regular bed time schedule.  It's great being able to avoid all the fussing he used to have when he put him down for the night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  Diaper change and pajamas.  Hopefully we can get him potty trained and get rid of the diapers all together.&lt;br /&gt;2.  Brush the teeth.  Misha still likes brushing his teeth.  We sing songs while we do it to keep him distracted.  He prefers the "ABC" song, or "Twinkle, twinkle".  He gets lazy on his pronunciation if I don't move the toothbrush out fast enough.&lt;br /&gt;3.  Prayers.  He usually likes to pray in English but sometimes goes Russian.  He makes more sense in English though.&lt;br /&gt;4.  Little Bear.  Our nighttime ritual has become fixated on two stories from the Little Bear series.  When Misha jumps into bed he immediately says, "Fshoop".  What he means is "Birthday Soup".  We have to read Birthday Soup.  Every time.  He is getting good at some of the bits...he really likes the "peas" and "pomotomomadodoes" part.  As soon as we finish Birthday Soup, we have to also read the Goblin story "pit-pat-pit-pat-pit-pat".  His favorite part other than the "pits" and "pats" is when the goblin snaps his fingers at the end.&lt;br /&gt;5.  I then leave Misha in bed with is book and the light remains on until Kiril goes to bed.  No more crying.  No more escaping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day we had a picnic with some friends who made bbq chicken.  Anytime someone mentioned the word "chicken" as in "this chicken is good" or "here, try some chicken" or when Misha ate a piece of chicken, he would emit this loud "bok-bok-bok!"  Even the next day while telling the family about it, I said "chicken" and Misha immediately "bok-bok-bok"ed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are moving this weekend.  Moving sucks.  But it ought to be good.  Misha loves the doorbell pipes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-3819527420773494727?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/3819527420773494727/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=3819527420773494727' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/3819527420773494727'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/3819527420773494727'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2010/05/bed-time-ritual.html' title='Bed time ritual'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/S-r8Gd1r9XI/AAAAAAAAANI/YadEC0WBhkU/s72-c/Little+Bear.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-6393228093653643138</id><published>2010-04-20T11:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-20T11:46:56.087-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Can Misha READ???</title><content type='html'>Last night, we went to Mom &amp;amp; Pop's to visit mom who just got back from Washington.  As we were leaving Pop was kinda wigged out cause he said that Misha had been rummaging around the pantry, had pulled out a packed of taco seasoning and said, "Taco".  Then Pop said Misha pulled out a can of Coke and said,"Coke".  We were kinda gobsmacked.  Mom asked if we had Coke at home and I answered that we generally don't have any kind of carbonated drinks at home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I called Misha over and pulled out the taco seasoning packet and asked him what it was.  He said, "Taco!  Yum, yum."  But then it did have a close up picture of part of a taco on it.  Then I pulled out the Coke and asked.  I am pretty sure he answered, "Sok", which is Russian for "juice". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not sure though.  Last week, he brought an advertisement over to Ira for Pizza that didn't have any picture of any pizza on it at all and said, "Pizza."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it's time to start teaching Misha to read, if it's not already too late.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-6393228093653643138?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/6393228093653643138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=6393228093653643138' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/6393228093653643138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/6393228093653643138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2010/04/can-misha-read.html' title='Can Misha READ???'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-5281455366877315902</id><published>2010-03-20T08:55:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-20T09:19:15.476-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dino Museum</title><content type='html'>Misha's school had a field trip to the dinosaur museum that Thanksgiving Point.  I got off work early to take him and also dragged along my new toy--Nikon D3000.  So here are some pictures:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/S6TwzwoS4II/AAAAAAAAALY/oVMgTKTg_uk/s1600-h/DSC_0215.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/S6TwzwoS4II/AAAAAAAAALY/oVMgTKTg_uk/s320/DSC_0215.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450746221043048578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aside from bolting toward the nearest exit the first time he saw a dinosaur, Misha mostly ignored the bones.  He was more interested in the fence, or the fishes in the water, or the emergency doors and light switches.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/S6Tw-1g8B2I/AAAAAAAAALg/5BMNtF-kOAU/s1600-h/DSC_0226.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/S6Tw-1g8B2I/AAAAAAAAALg/5BMNtF-kOAU/s320/DSC_0226.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450746411332929378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Unless it was the erosion table.  He would have played in there for hours if I hadn't have dragged him away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/S6TzSGWdGgI/AAAAAAAAALo/ufVXpb8K0Zc/s1600-h/MishaDino.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/S6TzSGWdGgI/AAAAAAAAALo/ufVXpb8K0Zc/s320/MishaDino.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450748941293132290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was keen on the prehistoric fish:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/S6Tzum9Jz0I/AAAAAAAAALw/8LCetHJH1V0/s1600-h/DSC_0241.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/S6Tzum9Jz0I/AAAAAAAAALw/8LCetHJH1V0/s320/DSC_0241.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450749431081717570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The giant shark didn't even phase him:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/S6T0ErspaPI/AAAAAAAAAL4/ykoMtPITlq4/s1600-h/DSC_0245.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/S6T0ErspaPI/AAAAAAAAAL4/ykoMtPITlq4/s320/DSC_0245.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450749810311784690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And played for a while in the sand pit.  He is good buddies with one of his instructors:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/S6T0ZUqzBgI/AAAAAAAAAMA/oo3jTOl4vAQ/s1600-h/DSC_0260.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/S6T0ZUqzBgI/AAAAAAAAAMA/oo3jTOl4vAQ/s320/DSC_0260.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450750164907263490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;But his favorite part of the day was getting windblown when we were leaving:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/S6T08irIfsI/AAAAAAAAAMI/X8-uNMNm4n4/s1600-h/DSC_0324.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/S6T08irIfsI/AAAAAAAAAMI/X8-uNMNm4n4/s320/DSC_0324.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450750769962188482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It was a good day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-5281455366877315902?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/5281455366877315902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=5281455366877315902' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/5281455366877315902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/5281455366877315902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2010/03/dino-museum.html' title='Dino Museum'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/S6TwzwoS4II/AAAAAAAAALY/oVMgTKTg_uk/s72-c/DSC_0215.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-4652169921194520005</id><published>2010-03-15T11:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-15T11:59:12.859-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Been a while...</title><content type='html'>My brother reminded me I have been remiss in blogging.  So I am repenting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My reason for not blogging is I really don't have much to say.  It's all busy, busy, busy doing the mundane work-a-day things and nothing special, exciting, or awful to report.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Misha--still going to Giant Steps.  He really enjoys it.  He enjoys going.  Enjoys being there.  Enjoys coming home.  Enjoys trips in the car.  Hates coming home from those.  He has turned into a parrot.  He is in the phase of speech development where he repeats (or tries to) whatever word you say last.  That makes two of those in the house.  He is getting daredevilish at the park.  He fell 5-6 ft twice last time we went.  Once he climbed up a ladder and couldn't get down and fell while I was walking over to help.  He likes to reach out and snag a monkey bar and hang there swinging back and forth.  Sometimes he can get back onto the platform, other times he falls.  I caught him a couple of times but the last time, he was over there by himself and plopped into the wood chips.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nicolai--quite a character.  He is talking a lot and has realized that Misha is fun to bug or bully.  We have to rein him occasionally.  But he also shares with Misha and is excited when he comes home on the bus.  He really like Baba Cindy and cries for her sometimes.  One of his best friends there is Baba T.  He brings her her book, movies, helps her walk down the hall, helps her to her chair, gives her hugs, etc.  He is going through nursery initiation which means that one of use has to spend some quality time in Nursery each week.  He is learning though.  Once snack time hits, he could care less who is in the room with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dasha--Ever read the poem "There was a little girl, she had a little curl..."  That is Dasha.  When she is good, she is very, very good.  But when she is bad she is horrid.  Not really.  She has her ultra-whiny moments but for the most part is very helpful and patient while we work on her eczema.  We have been to an allergist and are going to go for a round of blood tests and then to a dietitian. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kiril--Usual energizer bunny energy.  My mother's cousin Kirk was over a couple of Sunday's ago and Kiril talked his ear off.  He is interested in everything at once...as long as it doesn't include work. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Asya--Same as usual.  Constantly with her nose in a book. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ira--her new thing is wooden figures that she designs, cuts out, sands, burns, paints and now is selling on &lt;a href="irishenciya.etsy.com"&gt;irishenciya.etsy.com&lt;/a&gt;.  As with anytime she gets bitten by a new art bug, she spends all her time and energy on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me--not much.  Work and more work.  Running and biking.  Working.  Some play when I get a chance.  whee.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-4652169921194520005?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/4652169921194520005/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=4652169921194520005' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/4652169921194520005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/4652169921194520005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2010/03/been-while.html' title='Been a while...'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-967926052857475339</id><published>2010-01-19T07:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-19T07:31:54.178-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Updates</title><content type='html'>It's been fun with Misha recently...well, it's always fun with Misha.  But it's been lots of fun to watch his progress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Misha is picking up new words.  The other night he picked up a new favorite word "nachos" and repeated it all night long.  He really gets a kick out of the "ch" sound in words.  He is more willing to try new words.  The Nikolai factor has given him a competitive edge. &lt;br /&gt;--I finally saw something specific that Misha has been practicing in school. A couple days ago, he entertained himself, and me, by walking backwards then running forwards across the length of the room.  Over and over. &lt;br /&gt;--He is finally getting the knack of hugs and kisses.  Before, he would just lean his head in for a kiss whenever you asked for either.  He has started giving hugs and kisses spontaneously.  Especially to Mama, Baba Cindy, and his favorite Aunt Christy.  His small cousins also retain his favor.&lt;br /&gt;--Misha has become an avid artist.  Whenever he can find a scrap of paper and a pen/pencil/marker/crayon/improvised writing implement, he will spend a lot of time scribbling. &lt;br /&gt;--We moved the boys back upstairs and now Misha doesn't like to go to bed alone.  He always asks for "Iggy" who generally goes to bed later, and will cry at his door, open/shut the door, leave his room until Iggy goes to bed or we chase him back in  several times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Asya -- still enjoying school.  We have to get after her for reading when she should be doing something else.  English, Russian, it doesn't matter.  She reads as if she is starving for the words.  Like her old man, I suppose.&lt;br /&gt;Kiril -- Turning 9 this weekend.  Tends to make things up when writing school articles.  According to Kiril, grizzly bears weigh as much as an elephant, have needle-sharp claws, sharp metal fangs, and strong bones to tackle their prey.&lt;br /&gt;Dasha -- Her reading has taken off.  She reads to Misha and Nikolai, or Ira or I.&lt;br /&gt;Nikolai -- Talking up a storm.  Usually gibberish, but he is also picking up words.  Whether the kids, the parents, or Misha.  Very much a mommy's boy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-967926052857475339?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/967926052857475339/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=967926052857475339' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/967926052857475339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/967926052857475339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2010/01/updates.html' title='Updates'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-3952780600588221027</id><published>2010-01-01T07:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-01T07:37:41.037-08:00</updated><title type='text'>2009 wrap-up short list</title><content type='html'>--Successful Russian New Year's party, one 2.5 families.&lt;br /&gt;--Kiril gets baptized.&lt;br /&gt;--Ira battles the system and gets Misha into Giant Steps.  (It's been great for him).&lt;br /&gt;--Another farm trip to Lyman, UT.  Skipped this one too (had to work, whew).  Kids loved it.&lt;br /&gt;--Start Baba Liza's green card process.&lt;br /&gt;--Misha and Nikolai in competition.  Lots of progress for both.&lt;br /&gt;--Did round 1 on the HCG diet.  Lost some weight.&lt;br /&gt;--Misha starts hugging and kissing people.&lt;br /&gt;--Started temple work for Ira's family (got her crotchety ole dad baptized finally).&lt;br /&gt;--Get Baba Liza's green card.&lt;br /&gt;--Successful Russian New Year's party, 60 people, no accidents.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-3952780600588221027?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/3952780600588221027/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=3952780600588221027' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/3952780600588221027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/3952780600588221027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2010/01/2009-wrap-up-short-list.html' title='2009 wrap-up short list'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-1440128226955694851</id><published>2009-12-02T07:55:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-02T08:06:04.473-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>After the wife picked me up from work yesterday, we were riding home and she was explaining that she has Misha try different sounds while they ride around in the car. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With a bit of prompting, Misha proudly pronounced "Sh-sh-sh-kol-ya" (russian word for school is shkola).  Then she asked him who was in his class.  He replied, "de-ti" (deti = children).  For the rest of the ride home, he continued spouting out those words.  Of course by bed time, he would only say, "kol-ya".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I brush Misha's teeth in the evening, we sing the "ABC song".  He does fairly well alternating letters with me.  He still gets hung up on "L-M-N-O-P" though.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-1440128226955694851?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/1440128226955694851/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=1440128226955694851' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/1440128226955694851'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/1440128226955694851'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2009/12/after-wife-picked-me-up-from-work.html' title=''/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-1359155532933295223</id><published>2009-11-11T06:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-11T06:51:39.825-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Misha updates</title><content type='html'>Couple of quick Misha updates. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Misha has strung two words together finally.  He began recently to say "Baba Cindy".  That is a great leap for him.  He doesn't even sign two words in a row generally.  He surprised the nursery workers the other day when he told them "on" for some toy he was playing with. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Misha is also more receptive to new books.  He occasionally will bring a new one over. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Praying is still going strong.  I need to look up some more signs for him to expand his prayer repertoire. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He and Nikolai are quite the odd couple.  They can be seen playing the piano together, or sitting at a table playing with stuff at the same time, but then they start taking toys away from each other and smacking each other (Nikolai hits harder than Misha does).  Typical sibling relationships.  And when Misha is getting changed or going to bed, he never fails to remind one that he thinks that Nikolai should go too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-1359155532933295223?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/1359155532933295223/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=1359155532933295223' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/1359155532933295223'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/1359155532933295223'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2009/11/misha-updates.html' title='Misha updates'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-4010766998460834794</id><published>2009-10-19T10:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-19T10:50:57.876-07:00</updated><title type='text'>20 Questions, Part II</title><content type='html'>My interrogating Misha on his day has started to pay off.  It's quite exciting, actually. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, I picked Misha up from nursery.  He was happy to go, of course.  Really a good thing.  He is happy to go to nursery and happy to leave.  No complaining, either way.   Anyway, I digress. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we were leaving nursery, walking down the hall to the room where Ira teaches, Misha pulled his hand out of mine and stopped.  I stopped as well.  Misha then started signing to me.  He signed "play", so I confirmed/asked him if he played in nursery.  He responded verbally with "ball".  Then he signed food, so I asked him what he had for snack.  He usually doesn't respond to this one without prompting, but this time he signed "crackers" and said "nana".  That is marked improvement. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is unique in that he is not asking for something.  He is volunteering information without prompting.  This is great.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-4010766998460834794?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/4010766998460834794/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=4010766998460834794' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/4010766998460834794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/4010766998460834794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2009/10/20-questions-part-ii.html' title='20 Questions, Part II'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-3896485944986749993</id><published>2009-10-12T11:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-12T11:20:04.102-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Monkey see, monkey do</title><content type='html'>As an aficionado of music, Misha will jump through hoops to listen to music he likes.  Alisa reported the other day that Misha had tried to play a CD in the stereo.  He must have observed Kiril doing this cause the downstairs is often turned into a discotheque. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Evidently, he procured a CD from one of the disc books hanging around.  He walked over to the stereo "blowing" on the CD.  Misha is working on blowing and so far puts his upper-lip over his lower and blows down.  We are still working on that. Then he pushed the Open/close button, and put the disc in .  It wasn't in correctly so it didn't close all the way, so he further attempts at getting it to play were foiled.  But it's just another case at how observant Misha really is.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-3896485944986749993?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/3896485944986749993/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=3896485944986749993' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/3896485944986749993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/3896485944986749993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2009/10/monkey-see-monkey-do.html' title='Monkey see, monkey do'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-3034784443398964388</id><published>2009-10-01T11:13:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-01T11:40:14.243-07:00</updated><title type='text'>20 questions</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SsT1HcqkPtI/AAAAAAAAALM/IkAGnPMc77g/s1600-h/20q.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 310px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SsT1HcqkPtI/AAAAAAAAALM/IkAGnPMc77g/s320/20q.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387700562544574162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Misha is enjoying his school experience.  He is progressing steadily in their curriculum and that is nice to see.  So when I get home from work, I try to get some interaction going by questioning him on his day.  There is kind of a format on getting Misha started with these kind of things.  This usually involves prompting him with pointed questions that I generally know the answers to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it started out with something like "Misha, did you play at school today?"  And Misha would then sign "play".  Then we continued on to the next question.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I ask Misha what he did and he will sign "play".  I can then ask him what else he did and he will answer.  I am still prompting him about doing puzzles and color sorting but since neither of us know the signs for those, it's hard to get him to do that one.  But I will ask him about his lunch and what he ate. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The same tactic I approached when teaching him to pray.  Sometimes I would/will ask the kids who would like to pray.  Misha started answering "Yah!" (russian for 'me').  So I started verbally "assisting" him to pray.  Then I thought, "Wait a minute, he can sign!" and so I started trying to teach him some signs for praying.  At first, it was all prompt, but lately he has got a hold of the concept and is doing stuff on his own.  This usually cracks the kids up.  For instance, last night he was in the "thanking" part of his prayer.  He signed "thank you" then "food", then "mama", "food", and then said "Baba" (grandma),  said "Mama", "Bya-bya", and "Ga-ga" (see last blog).  Then we bless the food and he signs "Jesus" and said "Amin'".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now I need to work on my signing vocab, so that I can teach him some more school and prayer words.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-3034784443398964388?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/3034784443398964388/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=3034784443398964388' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/3034784443398964388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/3034784443398964388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2009/10/20-questions.html' title='20 questions'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SsT1HcqkPtI/AAAAAAAAALM/IkAGnPMc77g/s72-c/20q.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-1329031297764978728</id><published>2009-09-11T11:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-11T11:44:36.959-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Misha strips!</title><content type='html'>I was thinking of what kinda picture to post with this, but it didn't think I would risk doing a search for something along the theme while on a lunch break at work.  So this one will be without an image.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The good news is that Misha is beginning to undress by himself with some verbal prompting.  It's easiest with the pajamas.  They are loose and stretchy and he manages to get them off without much problem.  We are also working on getting dressed with some hand-over-hand help.  He seems to enjoy this especially when it's his Elmo clothes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I recently found Elmo's Adventures in Grouchland for a couple bucks and brought it home. Misha loves Elmo, but hasn't quite warmed up to this yet.  He watches a bit, but then wanders off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Misha is making progress in school.  He is learning color sorting and puzzles, which he seems to enjoy doing according to their daily progress reports.  The new school is a good thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Misha and Nikolai are still trying to work on their relationship.  There is a bunch of toy sharing issues and book sitting issues (Nikolai sits on the books Misha is looking at), and parental attention issues.  But Nikolai is also starting to see in Misha a playmate...or play thing.  He has started grabbing Misha from behind and hanging on.  It is certainly entertaining to watch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Misha's bedtime routine includes me telling him that it's time for bed and him starting on a list of people he thinks should also be in bed.  It goes something like this:&lt;br /&gt;"Misha, time for sleep."  (This is after putting him in bed and singing a song or something)&lt;br /&gt;(Misha signs "sleep)&lt;br /&gt;"Be-be."&lt;br /&gt;"Nikolai is already in bed."&lt;br /&gt;"Elmo."&lt;br /&gt;"Elmo is in bed, too."&lt;br /&gt;(Misha thinks for a minute)&lt;br /&gt;"Baba." (Baba Liza)&lt;br /&gt;"Baba will go to bed in a minute."&lt;br /&gt;"Mama."&lt;br /&gt;"Mama will go to be in a while."&lt;br /&gt;"Ga-ga." (???imaginary friend???)&lt;br /&gt;"Ga-ga is in bed already."&lt;br /&gt;"Bya-bya."  (???too???)&lt;br /&gt;"Bya-bya is asleep."&lt;br /&gt;(Misha starts again)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-1329031297764978728?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/1329031297764978728/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=1329031297764978728' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/1329031297764978728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/1329031297764978728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2009/09/misha-strips.html' title='Misha strips!'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-4922492708403995178</id><published>2009-08-29T09:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-29T09:54:49.888-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Updates, updates everwhere and not a thought to think</title><content type='html'>Well, it's been a bit.  Have been busy.  So, here are the updates.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Summer is over.  Although not much has changed.  Ira decided to home school the kids using a virtual elementary school.  Our local district was out of places, so she signed them up (it uses the same K12.com curriculum) in a neighboring district.  She likes it, though it makes her busy.  She is going to be even busier when Dasha starts waldorf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ira -- Crazy Russian mom.  Homeschooling the kids (her angle is that she gets to learn all this stuff too).  She is going to be teaching 3 part days a week at the pseudo-waldorf school.  I tell her she is going to be so busy she will drive either herself or me into the nuthouse but she doesn't believe me.  Oh, why doesn't she believe me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Asya -- Started home school.  Math still takes her a million years, but she adores history.  Can't get enough.  Still reads like she is dying of thirst.  Get's a kick out of Ira's faux paus when dictating ("singers??? of the Declaration of Independence").&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kiril -- Also started home school.  Everyday he whines about how he hates it, whines when Ira makes him correct his mistakes, but still gets done in time to play half the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dasha -- Enjoying life like only a 7 yr old can.  She loves playing and can entertain herself for hours.  Put her together with Kiril and they get silly really fast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bo-ba -- Nikolai is a normal 1 yr old.  He is toddling all over the place.  Ira finally decided she was tired of him waking up to snack in the middle of the night and got him to sleep through the night in just two or three evenings.  He is also building a vocabulary:  Mama, Papa, Baba, Allo (when the telephone rings), hamburger (he got that from Misha), Asya, Dasha, Aff-aff (dog, also from Misha), etc.  He is a handful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Misha -- Me-me started school this week.  He seems to really enjoy it and is learning.  The autism structured class seems to be a beneficial thing.  He is learning to sit still, put his feet down, etc.  A guy that served in Ukraine the same time as I is one of the asst instructors in his class.  He is getting clever though.  He can open the doors, if they are not deadbolted and escape, which he has tried.  He took off from Baba the other day in the park and headed for a busy street on the far end of the park cause he wanted to see the cars.  Baba finally caught up with him right at the street.  We gave him a talking to and now he knows that cars can give him owies. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me -- same ole same ole.  Work, work, work.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-4922492708403995178?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/4922492708403995178/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=4922492708403995178' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/4922492708403995178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/4922492708403995178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2009/08/updates-updates-everwhere-and-not.html' title='Updates, updates everwhere and not a thought to think'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-5742999862502084131</id><published>2009-07-20T08:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-20T08:30:19.072-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Nightmares?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SmSLopNzm5I/AAAAAAAAAKc/DjOVyn5EVNo/s1600-h/2006_nightmare_before_christmas_in_disney_001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 215px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SmSLopNzm5I/AAAAAAAAAKc/DjOVyn5EVNo/s320/2006_nightmare_before_christmas_in_disney_001.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360562986852522898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Off and on for the past few nights, minus the night we were "camping", Misha has been getting up a few hours after going to bed crying.  I haven't quite figure out what it could be, unless he is having nightmares. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After he wakes up and tries to leave the room, which is bad enough cause he would certainly wake up Nikolai, and who needs two screaming kids in the middle of the night, he won't calm down unless someone is in the room with him close.  One night I was trying to get to sleep (I don't get enough as it is), and he started screaming.  So I put him back in bed and tried to go back my own.  As soon as I closed the door he was crying again and trying to leave his room again.  Finally I pulled Kiril off his bed and told him to sleep on Misha's bed with him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night when it started I put him back in bed, which of course didn't work cause he started screaming again.  I finally decided to not let him leave, but not chase him back to bed.  So I held the doorknob.  He screamed and screamed and would run back to bed and then back to the door screaming and crying.  After a couple minutes of that though, he gave up and went back to bed on his own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I am left wondering if he is having nightmares at night.  Does he dream of a big bathtub of water and him behind a fence, or of me coming at him with a pair of hair clippers and some eye drops.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-5742999862502084131?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/5742999862502084131/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=5742999862502084131' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/5742999862502084131'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/5742999862502084131'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2009/07/nightmares.html' title='Nightmares?'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SmSLopNzm5I/AAAAAAAAAKc/DjOVyn5EVNo/s72-c/2006_nightmare_before_christmas_in_disney_001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-6319450475914688764</id><published>2009-06-23T11:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-23T12:06:13.250-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Misha and the haircut</title><content type='html'>We finally gave in and gave Misha a haircut yesterday.  His hair was so long, it was getting in his eyes.  Based upon the past couple times we have done this, I was expecting the worst. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Misha had been outside playing in the water and was all wet and probably dirty, so Ira put him in the tub with Nikolai.  Then she called me upstairs to do the deed.  When she told Misha that we were going to cut his hair, he began to get excited/agitated.  It usually takes a presidential order and some physical force to get him out of the tub, but when she announced a haircut, Misha stood up, climbed out of the tub and made a run for it.  I caught him before he made it out of the bathroom and have no idea where the streaker was planning on hiding, but he was determined to escape.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It actually didn't go so bad.  He didn't like it, of course, but I didn't have to tie him in knots to get him to sit still enough to cut it.  And it turned out fairly even.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-6319450475914688764?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/6319450475914688764/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=6319450475914688764' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/6319450475914688764'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/6319450475914688764'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2009/06/misha-and-haircut.html' title='Misha and the haircut'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-8172633370651537907</id><published>2009-06-16T11:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-16T11:17:50.141-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Copycat!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SjffOxacccI/AAAAAAAAAKU/ZqMhI4HRKsI/s1600-h/copycat.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SjffOxacccI/AAAAAAAAAKU/ZqMhI4HRKsI/s320/copycat.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347988527401169346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This sibling rivalry thing is getting out of hand.  Misha gets so upset when Nikolai get a diaper changed that one day recently, I just pulled him up on the couch, removed his shorts, un-velcro-ed his diaper, re-velcro-ed it, put his shorts back on and he was happy as a bug. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Misha gets jealous when I trim Nikolai's nails too.  The funny thing is, when I get to Misha's nails, he doesn't even like getting them trimmed, but if Nikolai has them done....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, I noticed an all NEW behavior.  Nikolai, like all little kids is in a phase that he likes to swat you in the face if you get close.  We are trying to teach him not to do it.  So, yesterday, when he smacked Ira in the face, we said, "No-no, Nikolai, don't hit.  Be nice. etc."  And what does Misha do?  He runs over and smacks Ira in the face.  Earlier I had been playing the guitar while sitting on the floor.  Nikolai had crawled over and was hampering my attempts to play by putting his hands on the strings.  No sooner had I told him not to and removed his hands, Misha was there putting BOTH his hands on the strings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have yet to use this to my advantage.  I really need to try the bed time thing.  I am also thinking that it's time to potty train Nikolai.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-8172633370651537907?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/8172633370651537907/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=8172633370651537907' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/8172633370651537907'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/8172633370651537907'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2009/06/copycat.html' title='Copycat!'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SjffOxacccI/AAAAAAAAAKU/ZqMhI4HRKsI/s72-c/copycat.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-8327359778054147005</id><published>2009-06-15T10:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-15T11:01:35.623-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Farm and the War</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SjaMea0y5UI/AAAAAAAAAKM/H-YKr5wIdj4/s1600-h/farm.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SjaMea0y5UI/AAAAAAAAAKM/H-YKr5wIdj4/s320/farm.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347616061773768002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple weeks ago, Ira talked her friend into going down to her friend's parent's farm in The-Farthest-Point-From-The-Bright-Center-Of-Civilization city again (It's right outside Capitol Reef National Park).  The last time they went down, I had just started a new job, didn't have any PTO, so I drove them down and then picked them up.  In the meantime, I managed to get raw milk poisoning and tear my meniscus.  When Ira mentioned how fun it was, I reminded her that my memories were less than fond.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, this time around, there was too little warning and really a bad time to be absent from work, especially with our corporate taskmaster PHBs breathing down our necks.  So, I drove them down Tuesday evening, spent the night, drove back to work Wednesday and then back Friday afternoon to pick them up.  So much fun.  Misha stayed home with Baba Liza cause Ira didn't think she could keep track of Misha and Nikolai at the same time.  Misha and I did go swimming, which he absolutely loves.  And we ate french fries.  I think he really liked the 1-on-1 time with Baba and Me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday when I went down, I drove quickly home from work and picked him up and he absolutely was thrilled to go on the 3 hr drive down there.  So, coming back home, Nikolai was tired and he isn't as enthusiastic about road trips as Misha is, so he was crying and squawking nearly the entire ride back.  Misha doesn't like it when Nikolai squawks, so Misha would belt out his own annoyed squawk every so often....I love going down to the farm!!!  At least Ira and the kids had fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Church every week has turned into a battle.  The older 3 monsters actually usually conduct themselves fairly well.  The two youngest monsters have declared war.  The Nikolai-Misha squawkfest continues there.  Nikolai is just a one year old who doesn't want to sit on laps anymore.  Misha doesn't like it particularly either, but if you let him go, he immediately goes for the accordian door seperation and starts pushing it back and forth.  Even when you hold him, he start hooting, trying to get a good echo.  He loves nursery though.  Loves to go, loves to leave.  He has even slipped out on occasion, from what they have told me.  The only way to get both of them to somewhat calm down is to occupy them with animal crackers or other such goodies.  I guess it's a blessing in disguise though, cause if I didn't have one or more worm on my lap, I am sure I would be dozing off.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-8327359778054147005?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/8327359778054147005/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=8327359778054147005' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/8327359778054147005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/8327359778054147005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2009/06/farm-and-war.html' title='The Farm and the War'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SjaMea0y5UI/AAAAAAAAAKM/H-YKr5wIdj4/s72-c/farm.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-5231319266204886019</id><published>2009-05-26T06:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-26T06:40:25.300-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sibling rivalry</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/ShvwLD0HtHI/AAAAAAAAAJk/ikIc-MvlmWo/s1600-h/img239.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 250px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/ShvwLD0HtHI/AAAAAAAAAJk/ikIc-MvlmWo/s320/img239.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340125855970997362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Misha has sibling rivalry issues big time.  Whenever one of us is holding Nikolai or playing with him, feeding him, or whatever, Misha is there, vying for attention.  Even if he has just eaten, he begs off Nikolai's food.  When he is just changed, he will beg to be changed again if we are changing Nikolai.  I already blogged on how he will try and push him away, or put his foot on his head.  I have now found out a good use for this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was trying to get Misha to follow a 2-3 step instruction set.  Go to your room, get a diaper, bring it back so we can change you.  Misha was not moving.  No motivation.  He just looked at me and wandered over to a book and wasn't going to do it.  After several times of trying to get him to do it, I finally told him, "Ok, I guess will change Nikolai's diaper then."  Shooooom, Misha was off like a shot.  Ran down the hall as fast as his wobbly little legs could take him and was back in record time with not one, but two diapers, climbed on the couch and was lying down waiting for me to change his diaper. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if it will work when it's bed time.  "Misha, I guess I will have to go put Nikolai in bed."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-5231319266204886019?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/5231319266204886019/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=5231319266204886019' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/5231319266204886019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/5231319266204886019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2009/05/sibling-rivalry.html' title='Sibling rivalry'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/ShvwLD0HtHI/AAAAAAAAAJk/ikIc-MvlmWo/s72-c/img239.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-428442693960282671</id><published>2009-05-07T06:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-07T06:43:41.553-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Misha is in</title><content type='html'>Ira is overjoyed.  A while ago, she applied to have Misha accepted into a relatively intensive preschool run by a mental health group.  They specialize in autism and have a very structured system. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, Ira had me go with her to the eval.  They did some one-on-one with Misha and ran him through their observation tests.  They also had us fill out some intensive questionnaires.  I blogged about them a bit ago. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ira was crushed when they didn't accept Misha into the program.  She decided to fight for it though and played all sorts of phone tag with them in order to have him retested.  Finally, she got something set up for this past Tuesday.  It was in Provo, not far from where I work, so she got me from work and we went together.  I think she needs me for moral support...and to keep her from getting too combative.  Mother Bear syndrome, sheesh. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I picked up on a couple of things in this eval.  One, was that the original test was done without us.  They observed Misha and didn't ask us questions.  All the info they got from us was on the questionnaires, which were geared toward a mental health eval, not a special preschool eval.  Two, the people doing the initial eval were interns.  That could be why they didn't accept him the first time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Misha does have some quirky behaviors that are autistic like.  Social interaction is a major one...that is the lack of.  He doesn't interact with kids his age.  He barely interacts with his siblings and that is only when they dance with, sing to, twirl him or get him something he wants.  He has a lot of interaction with Ira, myself, and Baba Liza.  Then the list goes to Baba Cindy, Deda Robert, and then siblings.  For instance, he barely interacts with Melanie when she is down from WA cause he doesn't know her.  The wheel spinning, button pushing, the hesitancy to touch things or try new foods.  The histerical laughter when we drive past phone lines...stuff like that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, Ira was on cloud 9 yesterday when they called and said he was accepted into the program.  I still have hesitations, but that is from the length of class, not necessarily from the program.  I guess we will see how it goes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-428442693960282671?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/428442693960282671/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=428442693960282671' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/428442693960282671'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/428442693960282671'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2009/05/misha-is-in.html' title='Misha is in'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-6806012990708681802</id><published>2009-04-22T05:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-22T06:07:09.435-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Misha forgets words too</title><content type='html'>Recently Brady's mom worried about him losing his only word, "Yah!"  Has any one else seen that with their 1p36ers I wonder.  We have.  I am not sure it's right to say it's "comforting" to know that they are similar in this, but it's the possibility that it is connected to the syndrome that helps categorize it.  Misha has picked up several words that he uses for only 1 day or maybe even a week, then they are gone.   And no matter what we try to do to get him to say them, he wont.  He just garbles out his default "word".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said "park" one day 5 times.  The next day it was gone.  He also said "Stiiiiinky!" for a few days.  Now he just says "Aaee-eeee" (the intonation is right, just the letters are gone).  I did't know why he lost that one cause it was one of his favorites.  There  are other words, but those are the two that popped into my head.  There has been only one case I know of where he actually improved his pronunciation of a word.  With the song he likes us to sing "All night, all day..." he change Awww yay to Awww dyay all by his lonesome.    I don't know whether it is due to apathy, laziness, or just the switch in his head flipping back off, but it has happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't worry too much for a few reasons.  He is improving and growing and advancing.  He is picking up other words and signs and sometimes I have to catch up to him.  He is a blessing to be around.  He is healthy.  I figure someday, he will reach the dev stage where he will talk.  But whatever, however and whenever he does will be fine with me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-6806012990708681802?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/6806012990708681802/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=6806012990708681802' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/6806012990708681802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/6806012990708681802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2009/04/misha-forgets-words-too.html' title='Misha forgets words too'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-5756352647477662129</id><published>2009-03-31T11:38:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-31T11:54:39.423-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Eval for Misha</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SdJmQ2zZ_RI/AAAAAAAAAJc/vd30oQKDSQ8/s1600-h/questionaire.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SdJmQ2zZ_RI/AAAAAAAAAJc/vd30oQKDSQ8/s320/questionaire.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319426549653044498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Misha has an eval at a new preschool this week.  Ira signed him up on the waiting list a couple of years ago and he finally came up at the top of the list.  The hours are 6hrs a day 4 times a week instead of 3 hours.  Not sure how I feel about that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His eval was at 8am and kids had school at 8.30, so I dropped Ira and Misha off at the eval and took the kids to school and came back and joined the fun paper work.  The questionaires are made by the sponsering company behind the preschool which is a mental health services provider.  Ira made me laugh.  She was marking the funniest things because she was taking them out of context.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For instance:  there was a section with a bunch of stuff on emotional problems like anger.  She had marked the behavior "Runs away from home."  When I asked her about it she said, "He runs away from home."  I corrected her, "No he wanders off.  It's not the same.  He doesn't get mad at you and run off."  He would have to learn to get mad first.  The other was under a suicide section.  She marked that he was "Detaching self from others."  We got a good laugh about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What was nice was when we came into get him (they eval'd him seperately), he got all excited  ran over saying, "Yah! Yah! Yah! Yah!" and grabbed my hand.  When I got home from work, he ran over and hugged my leg.  Sigh....it's nice to be loved.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-5756352647477662129?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/5756352647477662129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=5756352647477662129' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/5756352647477662129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/5756352647477662129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2009/03/eval-for-misha.html' title='Eval for Misha'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SdJmQ2zZ_RI/AAAAAAAAAJc/vd30oQKDSQ8/s72-c/questionaire.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-8157524810612580764</id><published>2009-03-25T10:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-25T12:10:44.927-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh! Sole Mio!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/ScpwcIuLXCI/AAAAAAAAAJU/dF3K7oN-toU/s1600-h/pavarotti.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 258px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/ScpwcIuLXCI/AAAAAAAAAJU/dF3K7oN-toU/s320/pavarotti.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317185938744106018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Recently Misha has been trying to sing.  What's funny is he doesn't do too bad, all things considered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It all started about a year ago when we were are a birthday party for the daughter of a friend of a friend of a...dunno, somehow connected through the local Russian (Ukrainian, Uzbek, Ossitian, Georgian, Krgyz, etc) chain.  I went cause they promised me yummy food.  Anyway, when it came time to sing "Happy Birthday" Misha, who loves music, signed, "More".  After a few times of me doing that, he made his attempt which I blogged about a when it happened &lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;here&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A month or so ago, Misha started singing another song from a russian movie and engaging us to sing it for/with him.  The song starts, "Mama! Mama! What am I going to do?  Mama! Mama! How am I going to live?" (translated losely from the russian song).  Misha will try to get you to sing by getting in your face and singing, "Mama, Mama".  The fun thing is that he gets the notes right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His latest is the first part of "Angels watching over me" a gospel song.  It goes "All night, all day angels watchin over me, my lord."  He gets the tune right again, although he needs to work on the words more.  It comes out more as "Aouu yay, aouu yay".  But the point is that he is trying and I was thinking that this could be the key to getting him to talk more.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-8157524810612580764?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/8157524810612580764/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=8157524810612580764' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/8157524810612580764'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/8157524810612580764'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2009/03/oh-sole-mio.html' title='Oh! Sole Mio!!!'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/ScpwcIuLXCI/AAAAAAAAAJU/dF3K7oN-toU/s72-c/pavarotti.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-7891515334723338596</id><published>2009-03-10T19:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-10T19:53:15.341-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Little Dentist Shop of Horrors</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SbclByP-P3I/AAAAAAAAAJE/4IOokz6fzlw/s1600-h/little-shop-of-horrors.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SbclByP-P3I/AAAAAAAAAJE/4IOokz6fzlw/s320/little-shop-of-horrors.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311754998105653106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Misha went to the dentist yesterday.  He had a bit of decay on one molar and we thought it best to take him in.  The other kids went in too.  Asya has a canine that is coming in slowly through the gum, Kiril may have had some gunk but didn't, and Dasha had a little brown spot they drilled out and filled.  He looked at Misha first, but decided to save his for last, so he got to watch the other kids go under the lamp.  He was watching intermittently, signing "ouch" occasionally, and complaining the whole time.   Then it was his turn.&lt;br /&gt;The dentist, who is really good, sent Ira and the kids out.  I got into the chair with Misha.  I put his feet in between my legs, held, his hands against his chest with one hand, and held his head with the other.  I thought I would be humane and also closed his eyes.  He screamed the entire procedure which took just a few minutes.  It's bad enough trying to brush his teeth, but this was torture for him.  They didn't even have to deaden him.  But he got a little revenge.  A couple times he was able to chomp down on the dentists finger.  Not that he did it on purpose, but hey...whatta ya do.  He has been complaining to us about it ever since.  He points to his mouth and lets us know that he knows it's all our fault that the mean ole dentist got a hold of him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SbcmkXTmgOI/AAAAAAAAAJM/gAcpER1UkhE/s1600-h/S7300746.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SbcmkXTmgOI/AAAAAAAAAJM/gAcpER1UkhE/s320/S7300746.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311756691680166114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;In other news, Kiril got baptised on Saturday.  Yay.  It was a fun day.  We delayed it so that Baba Liza could attend.  It went well.  Kiril was excited.  He got baptised with his friend Conner.  And we had a banana split bar afterwards to celebrate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am working on putting tile in the master bath this week.  Wheee.  Will be so glad when it's done.  Can't wait to be able to use my own bathroom and shower again.  Also started biking to work again.  Not too shabby after a break of a few months.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-7891515334723338596?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/7891515334723338596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=7891515334723338596' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/7891515334723338596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/7891515334723338596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2009/03/little-dentist-shop-of-horrors.html' title='Little Dentist Shop of Horrors'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SbclByP-P3I/AAAAAAAAAJE/4IOokz6fzlw/s72-c/little-shop-of-horrors.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-8521195167062876632</id><published>2009-02-22T15:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-22T16:29:50.753-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SaHnp7yFH6I/AAAAAAAAAI0/wYM9OYUsjRE/s1600-h/S7300739.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SaHnp7yFH6I/AAAAAAAAAI0/wYM9OYUsjRE/s320/S7300739.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305776543627550626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School has been good for Misha.  I think it very helpful for him to be in a different environment, with different people, and a different regime.   So, for 4 days a week he misses his nap.  The bus comes a bit before noon and brings him back around 4.  Nap time is usually around 11 a.m..  So, when he doesn't get his nap, he tends to get a bit sleepy around dinner time.  The picture is after trying to wake him up for a few minutes.  It took several more and sticking a plate of food under him in order to rouse him enough to eat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But school has been good.  He really enjoys riding on the bus.  They send a laminated page home everyday with a report.  It has the snack options he had (sometimes those are visible on his face), the activities he participated in that day, and with which therapists he had time with.  At the end an option explaining what kind of day he had.  Misha has never come home with anything but "I had a good day, today."  He has started another round of gains.  Ira noticed that he was able to put pegs toys in the foam holes without problem.  He has picked up several words and sounds.  He tries to sound out the letters he studies in class.  He even signs more.  When we went outside the other day, he started signing something and it took me a minute to understand that he was signing "snow".  He also tries butterfly which is a difficult one.  The other day, I was lounging on the floor doing homework with the kids.  Misha crawled up on my back and was sitting there bouncing.  Baba Liza asked where he was going and he answered with a sign.  She didn't understand it, but repeated it for me.  He was signing "horse".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-8521195167062876632?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/8521195167062876632/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=8521195167062876632' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/8521195167062876632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/8521195167062876632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2009/02/school-has-been-good-for-misha.html' title=''/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SaHnp7yFH6I/AAAAAAAAAI0/wYM9OYUsjRE/s72-c/S7300739.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-1356929241865382169</id><published>2009-01-30T11:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-30T11:37:40.214-08:00</updated><title type='text'>All tuckered out</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SYNTGlXLieI/AAAAAAAAAIc/CTZAud8sTYo/s1600-h/homer_the_scream.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 256px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SYNTGlXLieI/AAAAAAAAAIc/CTZAud8sTYo/s320/homer_the_scream.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297168959291492834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It's been a trying few weeks.   I am ready for a break of some kind.  Although today it feels like the break is going to be my knee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We recently put an offer in on a short sale house.  In the meantime we listed our own house.  The geographical difference is about 4.7 miles.   So hopefully, we would find a buyer and get the bank to sell us the new one at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are also trying to get our house presentable.  This means fixing chips in the paint, leaky faucets, packing up some of our stuff, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This couldn't have happened at a worse time.  I have projects deadlining at work and am working from home in the evenings to try to get them done.  Which means that in addition to dinner, homework, music, and work, I also have honeydo projects every evening.  And inevitably while trying to fix one thing, I broke another.  Sigh.  Then work can't figure out what projects are the important ones so they switched.  Sigh.  And I am not sleeping enough.  Yawn.....sigh.  But I do realize there are worse things that could happen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-1356929241865382169?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/1356929241865382169/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=1356929241865382169' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/1356929241865382169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/1356929241865382169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2009/01/all-tuckered-out.html' title='All tuckered out'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SYNTGlXLieI/AAAAAAAAAIc/CTZAud8sTYo/s72-c/homer_the_scream.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-2141072475912887016</id><published>2009-01-15T11:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-15T11:39:09.570-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Give me your tired, your hot, your hungry masses yearning to breathe free.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SW-NCRSq7JI/AAAAAAAAAIE/Q21XxSpKwbY/s1600-h/1494_immigrants.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 231px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SW-NCRSq7JI/AAAAAAAAAIE/Q21XxSpKwbY/s320/1494_immigrants.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291603157324590226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;She made it...finally.  Tuesday morning, we made the trek up to SLC with all the kids, some relatives, and extras to a theater near the district court for Ira's Naturalization Oath Ceremony.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So with some excitement and a little bit of sadness, she raised her right hand, repeated the oath and woohoo, is an American Citizen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I gotta say though...it was torturous for me.  What I will say is if you have the opportunity to participate in the future...leave smaller children home. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately the balcony in the theater was about 90 degrees.  The kids were dying.  While we were supposed to be there promptly at 9 am. they didn't start until around 10 am.  So she was sitting with the rest of the applicants, I was up in the overhot balcony with 6 hot, bored, hungry kids.  At least until Mom showed up and relieved me of one of them.  Then I had only wiggly Misha to take care of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once it started, it was fairly short and well paced.  Part of the delay may have been the pregnant lady who went into labor and was administered the oath outside, then sent off in an ambulance to the hospital.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We celebrated by going to McDonalds cause the kids were starving, the Russian store cause Ira wanted to, and the stayed at home.  I even got a nap.  It was bliss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All aside, I am glad we have hit this milestone.  Now we can invite Baba Liza and she can get a green card.  Yay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Misha update:  Misha is saying "hot"...more like "haa", but he is using it appropriately.  He is also using "uh-oh" appropriately like when he drops something (intentionally or not), when someone else drops something, or when I start counting.  He also started mimicing Kiril's lament, "Oh, man!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-2141072475912887016?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/2141072475912887016/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=2141072475912887016' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/2141072475912887016'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/2141072475912887016'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2009/01/give-me-your-tired-your-hot-your-hungry.html' title='Give me your tired, your hot, your hungry masses yearning to breathe free.'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SW-NCRSq7JI/AAAAAAAAAIE/Q21XxSpKwbY/s72-c/1494_immigrants.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-3231897953917756354</id><published>2008-12-22T20:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-22T20:24:53.209-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Awww, NUTS!</title><content type='html'>Asya and Kiril just finished up their short but highly successful career as amateur balleraunts (I am guessing at the PC non-gender version of ballerina).  With a couple months of insanity, practices and lessons 4-5 times a week, and a week of running them to and from the Covey Center, I am glad it's over.  I don't remember it being this much of a pain when I was a mouse 20 years ago.  And I am sad to report that I don't remember it being so awful.  Saturday, we decided to buy tickets and go watch it (support the kids).  The theatre was nice enough...it should be, it's new.  Just as it started, it began to slide downhill.  Right off the bat, they started hitting us up for donations.  Just a bit irksome, especially considering that the lessons are outrageously priced, they charged us $40 dollars in participation fees, the cheapest tickets were 16$ a seat, and the makeup for the week cost us around $100.  The music was from a CD that had seen better days.  It was really annoying to hear it chirping as they will do when dirty or scratched.  The performances were lackluster.  Some of the kids were better than the "professional" dancers.  And poor poor Asya.  It is not uncommon for a ballerina to biff it on stage.  But if it was going to happen, it was going to happen with Asya...and it did.  Fortunately, she popped right back up and continued on with the performance.    It was a fun thing for them, and I am glad they had the chance, but next year, I think we will take the kids to Ballet West or go see "A Christmas Carol" at the Hale Theatre. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today we were snowed in pretty good.  The roads were all slush.  So much for going to IKEA.  I cleaned the walks 3 times.  The last time, I got Misha dressed and dragged him out with me.  He hates playing in the snow.  He is just like "Randy" from A Christmas Story.  Once he falls, he can't get back up and starts calling for "Hep!  Hep!".  After I got the walks cleaned off, I took him for a walk around the block.  He seemed to enjoy that much more and was even upset when we finished even when he lost his boot a couple times and was walking in the snow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-3231897953917756354?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/3231897953917756354/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=3231897953917756354' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/3231897953917756354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/3231897953917756354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2008/12/awww-nuts.html' title='Awww, NUTS!'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-8734591782160177996</id><published>2008-12-10T17:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T18:27:53.602-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ewwwww!!! And Gonna Have To Watch More Carefully</title><content type='html'>The other night, we were in the middle of our weekly routine.  It was after dinner.  I was on the floor holding Nokolai helping Asya with Math while Iggy was drawing.  Ira was reading with Dasha.  Baba was off at her ESL class.  As I glanced around the room, I noticed Misha under the end of the kitchen table on the carpet.  Next to him was a 3/4 empty bottle of ranch dressing from Costco (that means big bottle).  After dinner, it had been about 1/4 empty.  The half he had anointed the floor with was being swirled around and around with his pudgy little hands.  As soon as he noticed we were wise to his caper, he started to eat it.  Ira grabbed the camera and recorded the moment for posterity.  Here it is for your viewing pleasure.  Just tilt your head to the left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-71aa153179af6f15" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v13.nonxt2.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D71aa153179af6f15%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329929482%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D8339702EC076696938B6A8465E5A9C47D443F5D1.709ADA2D7C7A80BBDB77CE41F0441CE2D668E9C0%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D71aa153179af6f15%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DSGWnfGhTBXM7-5UN2TQHsI1EmS8&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v13.nonxt2.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D71aa153179af6f15%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329929482%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D8339702EC076696938B6A8465E5A9C47D443F5D1.709ADA2D7C7A80BBDB77CE41F0441CE2D668E9C0%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D71aa153179af6f15%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DSGWnfGhTBXM7-5UN2TQHsI1EmS8&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Misha is starting to run. He can actually gets some good bursts of speed on those scrawny legs of his. I realized that we need to be more observant with him. We stopped at Target to grab some shoes for Nikolai (lost one of his last weekend). As were were loading everyone in the car, Misha, who was standing next to Ira, turned and bolted. Luckily Ira caught him in time cause he was headed right out in front of a car.  We bought him one of those Monkey harnesses.  It works well...when we remember to bring it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-8734591782160177996?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=71aa153179af6f15&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/8734591782160177996/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=8734591782160177996' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/8734591782160177996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/8734591782160177996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2008/12/ewwwww-and-gonna-have-to-watch-more.html' title='Ewwwww!!! And Gonna Have To Watch More Carefully'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-3812511516785713471</id><published>2008-11-26T06:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-26T07:29:56.642-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Some new words</title><content type='html'>Misha has graduated from signing "yes" to saying "yah" (sounds like "e-yah").  On any yes/no question (especially where you know the answer will be affirmative).  Misha still won't say no.  But if I tell him "no-no", he will shake his finger like he is scolding.  Even if you ask him to say no, he gets upset.  But saying "yah" is great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Misha also has picked up say "uh-oh" when drops something intentionally or not.  This includes utensils at dinner and objects he drops over the railing to the downstairs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he is hurt, he will either sign or will say "bo-bo" (russian cutesy form of "ow").  If he falls, he sometimes will say "bup" which I am assuming is his pronunciation of "bonk".  Yesterday, they called from school to say that he had fallen on the carpet but was just fine (district policy, I guess).  When he got home, Ira asked him about it.  He thought it was funny and kept repeating "bup" and laughing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I ask Misha to do something, he doesn't always comply.  I will start counting to three and then "assist" him in doing it.  He has turned this into a game too.  Sometimes he will sit down as soon as I make the request (like, "Let's go brush your teeth." or "Let's get your pajamas on.") He will wait until I reach three and then will stand up and go.  Sometimes he waits til I start assisting and laughs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He also is very jealous of Nikolai.  Whenever we change Nikolai and he sees this, he will come over and pull at his diaper and grunt meaning that he wants his changed too...even if we changed him immediately prior to his brother.  When I am holding Nikolai, he will come over and try to get my attention or if he is cranky start acting more cranky.  He will also run off with toys that his brother is playing with.  It's not all jealousy though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day, Ira asked "Who does Misha love?"  He signed "I" then "love" then pointed at Baba Liza.  Then repeated it for Ira.  Then repeated it for Nikolai.  He will also pat (pet) Nikolai's head or give him "loves". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the weekends, I am usually up before Ira to get things going.  Last weekend, I got up and slipped out of the room and heard Misha talking in the next room ("bilaaa-bilaaa" and "bee-bee-bee").  I opened the door.  He slid of his bed and went to one of his toys, sat down, pushed a button and then looked at me and signed "Mom sleeping".    That is what I tell him sometimes when I get up..."Shhh.  Mama's sleeping." Again he surprises me with how observant he is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Thanksgiving everyone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-3812511516785713471?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/3812511516785713471/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=3812511516785713471' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/3812511516785713471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/3812511516785713471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2008/11/some-new-words.html' title='Some new words'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-3470012347097875776</id><published>2008-11-12T20:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T20:26:00.459-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"I love to cook"!!!</title><content type='html'>Proud of the wife.  She passed her naturalization civics and English test with flying colors.  She has been studying hard for weeks now.  I, of course, had the dubious honor of drilling her with her study materials.  I could also pass the test at this point. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We drove up early this morning.  I had to speed a bit, no too much, to be on time.  She probably walked in the door right at 7.30.  As per the docs they sent, I was prepared for 2 hours alone, in the car, with Nikolai.  I brought a book and settled in.  Luckily, Nikolai fell asleep on the way and stayed that way for the duration.  Ira surprised me 1/2 later when she walked out.  My first thought was that she failed, the second was that we didn't have right documentation, but then she said that she had passed.   But she did.   Her English written question was "I love to cook."  She passed her civics questions easily.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So YAY!  We still have to wait til they tell us where/when the swearing in ceremony will be, but the hard stuff is over.  Now the most we have to worry about between then and now is keeping her from getting arrested.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-3470012347097875776?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/3470012347097875776/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=3470012347097875776' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/3470012347097875776'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/3470012347097875776'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2008/11/i-love-to-cook.html' title='&quot;I love to cook&quot;!!!'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-722792679626121186</id><published>2008-11-10T06:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-11T06:17:00.902-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Quick update</title><content type='html'>Nikolai got his first two teeth this weekend.  He has been drooling puddles for weeks now and they popped in in the bottom jaw one after another.  He is only 5 months, and much earlier than the other kids.  Oh well, he is also bigger than the other kids.  It will be nice when he goes on solids so he will sleep all night long...not that he bothers me much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dasha is on the verge of loosing her first tooth, ironically the same tooth that Nikolai got first.  It was bugging her during meals yesterday, so if it isn't out by the time I get home, we'll use the door/string method.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Misha has been going to school for a couple of weeks now.  He seems to really enjoy it, from what Ira has said.  He loves taking the bus to and from.  He even shows how "big" the bus is.  We should be having his follow-up IEP anytime now, so we can see about setting some goals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Asya is enjoying ballet and is excited to be in The Nutcracker as a Party Girl.  She is "getting" math this year and it's been much less a headache.  She is developing quite the sense of humor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kiril is going to be a Party Boy in the same cast as Asya.  He just decided to try out for the fun of it.  Just like his old man.  Only I got to hide behind a big hot grey suit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ira's citizenship test is this week.  We are both nervous.  I think she will pass it easy enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me?  Same old, same old.  Nothing really changes for me.  I work, I come home, I do homework with the kids.  I sleep.  Still trying to perfect my biking gear so I can keep riding until its too snowy and icy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Someone reminded me that I forgot Baba Liza.  Baba Liza is plugging right along.  She moved to a more advanced ESL class where the teacher doesn't speak Spanish all the time.  She takes care of Misha and Nikolai all the time, reads to Dasha and the other kids.  She keeps up with her family with weekly calls.  Luckily those phone cards are so darn cheap (1.9 cents a minute).  In the evenings, when not too busy, we play Rummikub, watch movies (which I translate for her...more or less).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-722792679626121186?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/722792679626121186/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=722792679626121186' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/722792679626121186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/722792679626121186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2008/11/quick-update.html' title='Quick update'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-5520350461242945224</id><published>2008-10-28T11:11:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-28T11:32:13.425-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Misha's first movie</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SQdWgj1tuuI/AAAAAAAAAF0/P7Nr7rLaN5k/s1600-h/wall-e.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 286px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SQdWgj1tuuI/AAAAAAAAAF0/P7Nr7rLaN5k/s320/wall-e.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262269806982052578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Ira kicked me out of the house with the kids a couple of weekends ago.  Told me to get lost for a few hours so she could study for her citizenship test.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We decided to go see "Wall*E" at the dollar theater.  None of us had seen it before, though we had heard it was a keeper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was somewhat apprehensive though, cause "kids" included Misha this time.  We have never taken him to a theater before and in general, he never watches more that a couple minutes of any movie at a time with the exception of Signing Time, for which he will sit glued to the screen for however many we put on in a row.  Occasionally, he will flop down on the blankets with the other kids when they are watching something, but never for very long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Admission for the 5 of us was $6.25.  The refreshments were around $20. I figured that we don't go often, why not splurge.  And I figured that it was the only way I was going to get Misha to sit there for the 97 minutes + trailers.  So, I got a popcorn and drink for Misha and myself, and a popcorn and drink for the other kids to share.   Steadily, for over an hour, I kept a constant stream of salted, buttered, exploded popcorn kernels and high-fructose corn syrupy, artificially flavored beverage moving over his lips, down his throat, and into his belly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When that ran out somewhere between 2/3 and 3/4 of the way into the movie, the church training kicked in.  So between the full belly, the sugar high, the dark theater, the loud speakers, the huge bright screen, and the knowledge that he was not getting off my lap for any reason we made it through the rest of the film exceptionally well.  He even laughed at some stuff in the film, but not sure for what reason.  His sense of humor exists but the oddest things set him off.  For instance, the telephone/power lines on the side of the street send him into hysterical bouts laughter when we drive down the road as does any picture of Disney Princesses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I want to try next is buying the flick on DVD and seeing if he will watch it.  Then he could watch something other than Signing Time, which the other kids have memorized.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-5520350461242945224?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/5520350461242945224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=5520350461242945224' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/5520350461242945224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/5520350461242945224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2008/10/mishas-first-movie.html' title='Misha&apos;s first movie'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SQdWgj1tuuI/AAAAAAAAAF0/P7Nr7rLaN5k/s72-c/wall-e.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-8498933033535753314</id><published>2008-10-15T18:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-17T07:57:11.762-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Good Talking!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SPae0pEqYII/AAAAAAAAAFM/gcaQ75LEH04/s1600-h/S7300665.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SPae0pEqYII/AAAAAAAAAFM/gcaQ75LEH04/s320/S7300665.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257564242217427074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It was Misha's birthday the other day.  He is 3 years old.  It's been a long path but it's been a worthwhile one.   He has made such wonderful progress that something new can happen at least once a week.  It will be interesting to see what he does once he starts school next week (he has had a bit of a sniffle and with fall break, we decided to start next Tuesday).  I expect great things to happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took the day off.  We spent the day doing Misha oriented things.  We went to the park after breakfast. Went to lunch (we originally wanted to go to Carl's Junior to get fries cause Misha loves em, but they were closed for remodeling and went to the Chinese Buffet instead.)  After his nap, we went swimming and ended the day with take-n-bake pizza and cake.  He got Happy Birthday sung to him too many times to count...mostly cause he signed "again" every time we sang it.  All in all I consider it a successful day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-9123ccefecb7b51" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v6.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D09123ccefecb7b51%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329929482%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D168032C9391E0913CF2A192A824B9852295BE012.40089BF7340D52A4057EBCF234926B229AA81C64%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D9123ccefecb7b51%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DQnFshvI293h1wcsXfs2vM3qFGJM&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v6.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D09123ccefecb7b51%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329929482%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D168032C9391E0913CF2A192A824B9852295BE012.40089BF7340D52A4057EBCF234926B229AA81C64%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D9123ccefecb7b51%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DQnFshvI293h1wcsXfs2vM3qFGJM&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Misha has been saying quite a few words with some prompting for quite a while.  He makes sounds for animals and cars.  He says "Baba" when we drive to Gramma's house.  He probably has a list of a couple dozen words which he uses with or without prompting. Recently "more" has been moved to the unprompted word list.  We noticed this the other day after a few weeks of working with him to say alongside the sign.  While in the park, I asked him if he was done swinging and whereas usually he would either sign "done" or do nothing, he answered "more" several times.  At dinner, he pointed at the juice and said, "More."  He also has said "again"...or as he pronounces it, "agn".  He has named himself "Me-me".  When he sees himself in the mirror or in a clip, that is what he says.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With recent posts on Whitney's (and others') blogs as well as observing Misha, I am reminded how constantly and pleasantly surprised I am at how much I underestimate our 1p36ers intellectually and otherwise.  Despite disabilities, they have a great capacity to  learn and love.  I am looking forward to the next 3 years.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-8498933033535753314?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/8498933033535753314/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=8498933033535753314' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/8498933033535753314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/8498933033535753314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2008/10/good-talking.html' title='Good Talking!'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SPae0pEqYII/AAAAAAAAAFM/gcaQ75LEH04/s72-c/S7300665.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-5980562842741768619</id><published>2008-10-09T06:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-09T06:16:30.083-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Misha's first IEP</title><content type='html'>We had a meeting a couple days ago at Misha's preschool.  He will be starting 4 days a week the day after his birthday next Monday...assuming that Ira can get things settled in her head and with the district.  She wants him to goto the morning class instead of the afternoon class cause that would completely mess with Misha's nap schedule.  He still takes 1-3 hour naps in the afternoons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, she got Misha's pediatrician to write a note which she then had to take to the district office.  When she got to the district, she fell in a giant nest of bureaucracy which, being native Russian, she should be used to by now.  Eventually, they told her that she had two choices.  She could have the afternoon schedule with a bus to pick Misha up or she could have the morning schedule without the bus.  For some reason, she got all worked up over it.  I think she thinks that she is doing them a favor putting Misha in the class instead of the other way 'round.  Sigh.  Sometimes I just don't understand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, we met Misha's teacher and the therapists that will be working with him sans the speech therapist who was sick that day.  Every time we meet with anyone about Misha, they offer us the same stupid booklet and we have to sign saying they offered it to us.  Then we sign more things, and more things, and more things.  I think I am just going to get a stamp of my signature...it will be easier that way.  The dumb thing was that all they told us...in triplicate, was that they wouldn't really set an IEP for Misha now but would wait 30 days in order to observe him first.  I am not sure what Ira would have wanted but for me a phone call would have sufficed to tell me that.  A meeting once the observation is complete..sure.  I hate bureaucracy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Misha's teacher is a quiet spoken lady of middle years who got into the special ed program because her son is autistic.   A score of years ago, when he was born there wasn't anything close to the amount of resources available for parents.  Kudos for her though.  I think school will be fun for Misha and beneficial.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-5980562842741768619?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/5980562842741768619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=5980562842741768619' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/5980562842741768619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/5980562842741768619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2008/10/mishas-first-iep.html' title='Misha&apos;s first IEP'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-8427850353662654115</id><published>2008-09-29T06:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-29T06:40:05.848-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wife tag!!!</title><content type='html'>Where did you meet? In Ira's branch in Moscow.  I hadn't planned on going to church so I was in black jeans, boots, a black tee, and had long (for me) scraggly hair (not my fault, the humidity and natural curliness did it).  And I was in the company of a bunch of Americans in skirts.  Maybe I looked especially "bad boy".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. How long did you date before you got married? Including the letter trail on the mission...3 yrs, 9 months.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. How long have you been married? Going on 10 years this Dec 31...holy cow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. What does she do that surprises you? She will find me neato clothes at TJ Max or Ross and bring them home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.What is your favorite feature of hers? Her nose, except when its runny. Her hands cause they are beautiful artist's hands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. What is your favorite quality of hers? Her dedication to the kids.  She is a good mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Does she have a nickname for you? Joshun.  Don't ask.  It's a Russian thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. What is her favorite color? It changes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. What is her favorite food? Sauteed mushrooms.  Pizza Factory zucchini noodles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. What is her favorite sport? Ping Pong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. When and where was your first kiss? Sasha's apt (I lived there).  It was almost on a walk in the snow near the Moscow River, but I chickened out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. What is your favorite thing to do as a couple? Go to plays.  She comes from a "rich culture" so she enjoys the theater, concerts, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. Do you have any children? 2 girls, 3 boys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. Does she have a hidden talent? If she does, she hides it even from me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. How old is she? She is going to be 30 in 2 days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. Who said "I love you" first? It was 10 years ago...I don't remember.  She probably would though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. What do you admire most about her? She has much more tenacity than I do.  She is dead set on enjoying life...or making life more enjoyable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19.Do you think she will read this? Eventually, yes.  And I don't think I put anything in here that will get me in trouble...Right, dearest?...honey?...sweetie-pie???&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-8427850353662654115?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/8427850353662654115/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=8427850353662654115' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/8427850353662654115'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/8427850353662654115'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2008/09/wife-tag.html' title='Wife tag!!!'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-2623338948210928268</id><published>2008-09-19T11:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-19T11:48:12.439-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I made Misha cry</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SNPs0pkNvfI/AAAAAAAAAFE/yl2L7Lhm4qg/s1600-h/human+cry.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SNPs0pkNvfI/AAAAAAAAAFE/yl2L7Lhm4qg/s320/human+cry.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247798380071861746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Misha doesn't cry very often.  Usually he is a very happy child.  He gets annoyed, angry, fussy, frustrated, whimpers, yells, screams, etc.  In fact,  he only cries for a few reasons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obviously he cries when he gets hurt.  And it's not a slightly hurt thing...that is when he whimpers.  This is like he fell-6-feet-through-a-poorly-&lt;br /&gt;designed-jungle-gym-onto-&lt;br /&gt;packed-sand hurt.  Then he cried for a while.  He doesn't cry for sympathy.  There has to be a reason.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He has cried a little a couple of times when Ira and I have left him to go out on a date, or a while ago at the nursery at church before he got used to it.  Typical separation anxiety.  No big deal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Occasionally, he will cry when I tell him "No".  He will look at me with his big blues and then start to wail.  And it takes several minutes to comfort him.  Not sure why he gets so upset when I tell him "No".  In fact, it took him months until he would sign "no" and only recently he started shaking his finger "No. No. No." for scolding purposes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night, I made him cry.  Misha loves music like he loves water.  He has favorite children's songs, favorite songs when I play the guitar, favorite dancing songs, etc.  At church he will sign "music" when he hears something he likes.  A some point in time, we acquired a little keyboard...I think Baba Liza sent it from Russia, or brought it over on one of her visits.  Misha loved that thing and enjoyed pushing the buttons to get music out of it.  He learned how to turn it on.  Ira hid it one day and so it has been absent from his consciousness for a few months.  Somehow, it turned up yesterday.  Misha sat there for an hour and pushed the demo button over and over and over again listening to the various demo melodies.  Baba said he was hugging it when it played a song he liked.  So, after an hour, I came upstairs from practicing with Kiril and decided he had sat there long enough.  I told him that it was time and turned it off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Misha started crying like I had told him his puppy died.  Inconsolable crying with bubbles, runny nose, and drool.  His poor little heart just about broke.  Finally, I gave it back and he calmed down and continued on with his demo medley.  About 1/2 an hour later, it was dinner time, so we were successful in prying it away from him again with bribes of food.  I felt bad when he was grieving over his loss of music, but my intentions in taking it away was that he had sat there just doing that for quite a long time.  Now I am not so sure that is a bad thing.  The two sides are 1) that he is focusing on one thing for a considerable amount of time.  That good for many reasons.  But 2) He was focusing on pushing a button.  If it was drawing or reading or something more active, I would be ecstatic.  But sitting there pushing a button over and over for music...dunno.  I fear that it is somewhat like his other amusement of wheel spinning.  Kind of an autistic sort of behavior.  Not sure what to think.  Anyone with a comment is welcome to comment.  If I am going to have to make him cry, I figure I should be justified in doing it.  Cause Misha just doesn't cry without a reason.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-2623338948210928268?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/2623338948210928268/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=2623338948210928268' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/2623338948210928268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/2623338948210928268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2008/09/i-made-misha-cry.html' title='I made Misha cry'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SNPs0pkNvfI/AAAAAAAAAFE/yl2L7Lhm4qg/s72-c/human+cry.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-3797444613651895219</id><published>2008-09-17T20:17:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T06:21:10.913-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Misha's eval</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SNHIhp0mVwI/AAAAAAAAAE8/IoFHMSA6qpY/s1600-h/S7300254.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SNHIhp0mVwI/AAAAAAAAAE8/IoFHMSA6qpY/s320/S7300254.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247195521351046914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The past two Mondays, Misha had an evaluation with the local school district to see if he qualified for Early Head Start and, if so, for which services.   We were shocked, surprised, and utter gobsmacked when they told us he qualified.  And if you believe that, I got some prime beachfront property in Siberia I wanna sell ya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We knew he would qualify and for anything/everything they have to offer.  The eval center was located in the basement of Kids on the Move (local early intervention) so Misha was upset, I think, that we went there instead of class.  In fact, while we were waiting in the foyer, he kept signing bye-bye and trying to escape.   On both occasions, he acted out somewhat in the beginning by trying to get down, doing his frustration yell, and dropping stuff on the floor. He did settle down and go through the evals.  I would tell him that it was time to "work" like he does at kids on the move.  And he had them trained very well to keep him supplied with goldfish and cereal for "working".  He scored from 1-8 percentile in the various categories (gross and fine motor skills, cognative, speech, etc.).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought that maybe I would feel sad or disappointed or something about that, but I haven't.  I came to terms with the whole "special needs" thing a long time ago.  Misha is a fun and wonderful kid and I have seen great progress in him, especially of late.  Kinda like the IQ tests you can take, these scores are not indicative of what he really can do.  His vocabulary is increasing greatly.  He is gaining confidence in climbing on things.  He runs quicker and more stable.  His jumping is actually looking somewhat like a jump instead of a squat.  He is able to reason things out better, like how to escape from the backyard while his sibs are supposed to be watching him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still, I came away from the evals with things to work on.  Jumping is one, some fine motor skills like picking up a coin and putting it into a slot.  Bigger-smaller concepts, colors, accurate pointing.  The list goes on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also came away with the understanding that Misha needs more English.  So I decided to start talking to him in English instead of Russian.  Some things he understands when I say them to him, but others he looks at me like I am speaking gibberish.  I am excited for him to start school in a month.  He will get a big kick out of the school bus, and I hope likes the class.  It will be a big growth experience for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Asya has turned out to be a great help with Misha too.  She is old enough to be able to watch him, unless she is distracted, which isn't that hard.  She can take him on walks, play with him in the park, read him stories, and turn on Signing Time.  She even changes an occasional diaper and last night got him ready for bed (including brushing his teeth) while I was doing piano with Kiril. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pic above is a retro Misha.  A few months ago, before we got the bunk beds, Misha would crawl into bed with Kiril every night and occasionally scoot Kiril or himself right off.  Ira likes this one cause Kiril is hanging off the side of the bed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-3797444613651895219?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/3797444613651895219/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=3797444613651895219' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/3797444613651895219'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/3797444613651895219'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2008/09/mishas-eval.html' title='Misha&apos;s eval'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SNHIhp0mVwI/AAAAAAAAAE8/IoFHMSA6qpY/s72-c/S7300254.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-370166912314574489</id><published>2008-09-09T12:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-09T12:21:22.474-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Math with children</title><content type='html'>I have grumped before about doing math with the kids.  Most of the problem was mine.  Although I think any parent who has helped their kids with math can understand the frustration of explaining the same thing over and over every day that math is done.  But I have make a concerted effort to calm myself down and not get over-excited about it.  Patience has been long in coming, but I am doing MUCH better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes though, math is funny.  Yesterday, Kiril was doing some homework. It was a story problem with several parts, so I helped him with the first bit...actually doing the problem.  Then his page had a second section asking him to explain how he got the answer.  This is what he wrote:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At first I was thinking.&lt;br /&gt;Next I asked my dad.&lt;br /&gt;Then I subtracted. (there was no subtracting)&lt;br /&gt;Finally I did it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, I had a good laugh before making him rewrite it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-370166912314574489?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/370166912314574489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=370166912314574489' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/370166912314574489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/370166912314574489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2008/09/math-with-children.html' title='Math with children'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-5408678295674643906</id><published>2008-09-05T07:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-05T09:53:19.420-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Misha  Moments</title><content type='html'>Misha is a joy.  There is no other way to put it...except around midnight when he is crying.  Not sure what happened, I was in a hazy fog of sleep, but for some reason he woke up and was crying at his door.  So I got up, gave him a smooch and a hug and put him back in bed, which was NOT what he wanted cause he started crying some more.  Usually you just have to leave him there and he will go back to bed on his own.  For some reason, Baba Liza decided to go in there which caused more crying.  What I really  need in there is a comfortable arm chair so can sit there in comfort until he goes back to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quite often now when we put Misha down for the night, he tends to get upset that he is going to bed and everyone else isn't, especially Kiril who shares the room.  In fact, since he can open doors now, we had to put a child-safety knob on the door so he can't get out.  So when he isn't ready to go to bed, he will sit by his door and cry or whine.  Passing by you can see 3 or 4 stubby little fingers sticking out under the door.  Of course he gets a big kick out of it when you start playing with his fingers under the door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day, the kids put on Signing Time for Misha while I was fixing dinner.  I finished before the DVD was over and called the kids to the table.  Misha was still downstairs watching, so I called him.  He came to the bottom of the stairs a couple of times but returned to watching.  So I called him again and signed "Eat".  He signed "music" back and went back to watch.  Like he was saying, "Dad, my video is still going."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another day this week, I was practicing music with Kiril and was running him through his note cards.  Misha was over playing on the piano bench.  Kiril hit a note he couldn't remember and was "hmm"ing and "uhhh"ing when Misha piped up "B".  He was right.  He did it again a few seconds later with "B".  Not that he was looking, or even knows notes, but it was funny that he was right.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-5408678295674643906?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/5408678295674643906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=5408678295674643906' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/5408678295674643906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/5408678295674643906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2008/09/misha-moments.html' title='Misha  Moments'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-4600825580105396153</id><published>2008-08-26T07:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-26T07:36:49.437-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bus training</title><content type='html'>Misha starts school this fall.  He has his evals the next couple of weeks, but he will definately get in.  I think Ira is going to have him ride the bus, which will be fun for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, I took him and Baba Liza for a test run to her ESL class which starts today.  The bus runs right down the street with a stop around the corner from our house, so she wanted me to do a dry run with her to show her where to get off and how the system works.  We decided to take Misha along for the fun of it.  He had been cooped up inside all day.  As soon as we got on he started grinning and when the bus took off, he started laughing.  It was only a 5 minute ride, but he was giggling the whole way.  When we stopped to let someone off, he complained and signed "more". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently, Misha has had some behaviors toward Baba Liza.  I am not exactly sure why, but he has began to show some aggressiveness towards her.  For instance, he likes to hit her on the arms and on the face.  In any case, Misha doesn't hit hard, but its the fact that he is.  He also has tried to bite her arms.  The other day, Baba Liza was telling me about him trying to bite her.  I told her that he may try to gum her, but he doesn't bite.  Misha heard this, walked up and tried to bite her.  Kinda blew me away.  Whenever I see this behavior he does get a verbal reprimand telling him that he should not hit or bite and that it hurts.  And I make him sign "sorry".  He usually comes over and tries to hug/snuggle after that, but sometimes he gets really offended and starts to cry.  And he cries and cries and cries.  I am not sure if its affection of some sort, and attention getter, or that she doesn't reprimand him when he does.  It's not like he doesn't like Baba Liza.  He hangs around her all day.  She takes him for walks and takes him outside to play, and really takes care of him well.  She scolds him but less severe than I would or Ira.  I think I need to make sure she consistently reprimands him from now on so he will learn not to do that.  The last thing I want is for Misha to develop any kind of permenent aggressive behaviors.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-4600825580105396153?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/4600825580105396153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=4600825580105396153' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/4600825580105396153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/4600825580105396153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2008/08/bus-training.html' title='Bus training'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-1941101425559380580</id><published>2008-08-21T18:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-21T19:40:55.864-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hep-bi beh beh</title><content type='html'>Last night, we went to a birthday party for the daughter of one of Ira's acquaintances.  I think I may have seen her once.  They held in a local park with broad spans of lawn, a fish pond, a couple fountains and the like.  They had some Russian food I haven't tried in quite a while: plov (rice, meath, carrots cooked stir-fried) and the equivalent of a chebureika (meat filled pastry).  Quite tasty.  When they hauled out the cake for the little girl, they gathered the kids and sang happy birthday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Immediately after finishing, Misha signed "again" and "music" and I asked if he wanted me to sing happy birthday.  He then sang to me "Hep-bi beh beh".  I was drop-jaw shocked.  He has tried singing before, but this was the clearest.  The rest of the night was having him repeat it.  Amazing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-617f2a670f230c1" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v6.nonxt4.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D0617f2a670f230c1%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329929483%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D2AAFAF6A673985150CE739AF67E1D1E35D0E17C7.DF81B8561E72AE5EC4BCE0DA0BE181A37BFC64D%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D617f2a670f230c1%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D9iEEQnYASfGg4JCk6zEi5__0W9A&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v6.nonxt4.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D0617f2a670f230c1%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329929483%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D2AAFAF6A673985150CE739AF67E1D1E35D0E17C7.DF81B8561E72AE5EC4BCE0DA0BE181A37BFC64D%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D617f2a670f230c1%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D9iEEQnYASfGg4JCk6zEi5__0W9A&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;A couple of weeks ago, we went to the Thanksgiving point discovery park.  It had a bunch of flowers and some other things for kids to do, but the highlight was the wading pool.   It had Noah's ark in the middle with various animals, elephants and goats that blew water, and Noah and his wife.  Misha loves the water.  Whenever we pulled him out, he squawked tried to get back in at every chance.  I didnt want to go in and tried so we just used his monkey harness.  Didn't help though.  Some little punk kid walked over and kicked water all over me.  I didn't even know him.  I have the leash to Baba Liza so I could film him.  He was so upset when we had to leave.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-1941101425559380580?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=617f2a670f230c1&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/1941101425559380580/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=1941101425559380580' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/1941101425559380580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/1941101425559380580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2008/08/hep-bi-beh-beh.html' title='Hep-bi beh beh'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-3054674238502391015</id><published>2008-08-12T10:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T12:48:09.036-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bloomin' Misha</title><content type='html'>Misha has been blooming again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, that he has been making some great progress on his speech.  Instead of laughing at us, he actually tries new words and sounds.  Side note:  his signs are progressing as well. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He picked up "cookie" about a week ago.  Ira just thought he might be able to pronounce it and sure enough, he did.  Yesterday, I was lounging on the couch and Misha was sitting on my belly and I ran him through the English alphabet.  A bunch of the letters were garbled or not pronounced very well, but that was the first time he has sat there for so long and been willing to try new sounds.  Of course, he got tired of it as soon as I got to the Russian alphabet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully I will get un-lazy and get a blog with a vid of Misha from a recent activity this evening.  We'll see.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-3054674238502391015?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/3054674238502391015/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=3054674238502391015' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/3054674238502391015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/3054674238502391015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2008/08/bloomin-misha.html' title='Bloomin&apos; Misha'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-58868764793481952</id><published>2008-07-08T19:48:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T15:30:35.538-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SHQnj56crkI/AAAAAAAAADc/J0hHY4rJ3Kk/s1600-h/S7300323.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SHQnj56crkI/AAAAAAAAADc/J0hHY4rJ3Kk/s320/S7300323.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220841365824122434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been a couple of busy weeks.  I haven't found the time to pull pics from the camera and blog.  Even now, while I am just getting started, Ira is trying to get me to go play with a sprinkler.  She is never happy with how the sprinklers are sprinkling.  sigh...So this will be a photo blog with comments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is Misha's new favorite activity.  Whenever he gets a chance, he climbs into the bathtub to play.  At least he isn't splashing around in the toilet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SHQsk9BNMvI/AAAAAAAAAEE/NGjR22gx8v8/s1600-h/S7300367.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SHQsk9BNMvI/AAAAAAAAAEE/NGjR22gx8v8/s320/S7300367.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220846881395782386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Ira had just had Kolya (Nikolai) and shooed me out of the house with the kids that weekend to go to Family City, USA festival.  As usual, when the carnies arrive so do the freaks.  But Misha took a rest in a firetruck while the kids where getting motion sickness on the carnival rides.  Misha and I didn't right, but hung around the play area and distributed tickets to the munchkins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SHQpymqiQlI/AAAAAAAAADs/rNXNUQW0UE4/s1600-h/S7300380.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SHQpymqiQlI/AAAAAAAAADs/rNXNUQW0UE4/s320/S7300380.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220843817378398802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Misha had a field trip with Kids on the Move one of the local attractions--Thanksgiving Point's Animal Farm.  Ira kicked me out of the house again and told me to take pictures.  So trying to get a picture of Misha and the cow, I had Asya take a picture while I held Misha.  She got the cow's nose and Misha's elbow.  Then Kiril tried and got Misha's elbow and the cow's eye.  Finally I had Kiril hold Misha while I snapped this one.  While I am taking the picture and Misha is making a funny face, Kiril is getting licked up side the head by a friendly jersey cow.  Now he really knows what a "cowlick" means.  Goo all over his head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SHQsA_f-3jI/AAAAAAAAAD8/c367-kYCwMo/s1600-h/S7300405.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SHQsA_f-3jI/AAAAAAAAAD8/c367-kYCwMo/s320/S7300405.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220846263586446898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Asya had her first competition at the Utah Fies.  We were worried that she wouldn't do well cause she wasn't practicing as she ought ta'.  But she actually did well.  She pulled 1 gold for her 3-hand team, a silver for her 8-hand team, a gold for a single jig, and a silver for the slip jig.  And she got two medals for it being her first fies.  It was a long two days.  Friday night was the group competition in SLC, then Saturday morning was the singles competition.  Then we had a wedding in SLC that evening, then Baba Liza flew in (was supposed to be her at 11 p.m. but arrived at 1:15 a.m.)  At any rate, WAY TO GO, ASYA!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She, of course, forgot her shoes at the competition which we had to hunt down later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SHQtPYtV4yI/AAAAAAAAAEM/wZxdQoes1fA/s1600-h/S7300434.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SHQtPYtV4yI/AAAAAAAAAEM/wZxdQoes1fA/s320/S7300434.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220847610383164194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Our traditional zoo photo on the rhino.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-58868764793481952?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/58868764793481952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=58868764793481952' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/58868764793481952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/58868764793481952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2008/07/its-been-couple-of-busy-weeks.html' title=''/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SHQnj56crkI/AAAAAAAAADc/J0hHY4rJ3Kk/s72-c/S7300323.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-3372221526686846593</id><published>2008-06-13T09:34:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T15:30:35.693-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Misha "UP"date</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SFKh8S8nSMI/AAAAAAAAADU/60OcFPT1LY4/s1600-h/S7300341.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SFKh8S8nSMI/AAAAAAAAADU/60OcFPT1LY4/s320/S7300341.JPG" alt="Ira and Misha at hospital" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211405776071379138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Misha surprised me yesterday.  "Silly" has become Misha's favorite sign.  He does it all the time.  When he sees one of the neighbor boys who is always saying hi to him, Misha invariably signs "silly".  But yesterday, I was sitting in front of the computer working and Misha came over and was lounging around.  Somewhere in the play, he said I was silly...which usually means that he signs "silly" and we ask who is silly and he signs either "mama" or "papa" depending on who he is talking to and who is being silly.  Well, when he called me silly, I sign "no" "you" "silly" and told him "No, you are silly."  He shocked me good by repeating the sign sentence "no" "you" "silly".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Misha has picked up on the baby thing.  When he sees Kolya, or we are talking about him, Misha will say "bee-bee".  That kid may not be able to express himself as fully as another kid, but he understands alot more than he lets on.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-3372221526686846593?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/3372221526686846593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=3372221526686846593' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/3372221526686846593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/3372221526686846593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2008/06/misha-update.html' title='Misha &quot;UP&quot;date'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SFKh8S8nSMI/AAAAAAAAADU/60OcFPT1LY4/s72-c/S7300341.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-5937635046669812189</id><published>2008-06-11T18:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T15:30:35.782-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Even more tidbits</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SFB_Oe81E8I/AAAAAAAAADM/wS1f2R2qFDo/s1600-h/S7300347.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SFB_Oe81E8I/AAAAAAAAADM/wS1f2R2qFDo/s320/S7300347.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210804655670760386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They goofed at the hospital.  We took Kolya in for a checkup cause we broke him outta the joint so early.  He wasn't 19.5 inches, he is 21.75 inches.  And he has only lost 1.5 ounces.  Ira's milk is in so he should beef up quite nicely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Took Misha to the park this evening.  He is getting so good at climbing, it's a scary thing.  He is doing well at the stiff chain ladders and even tried to go up the curved horizontal bar ladder...you know the kind that go in an arc from the ground to a platform and just have horizontal bars spaced right enough for a kid to fall through.  I had to help him with that, but he is doing much better.  And he walked all the way there and back.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-5937635046669812189?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/5937635046669812189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=5937635046669812189' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/5937635046669812189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/5937635046669812189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2008/06/even-more-tidbits.html' title='Even more tidbits'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SFB_Oe81E8I/AAAAAAAAADM/wS1f2R2qFDo/s72-c/S7300347.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-7605245204493331711</id><published>2008-06-11T05:36:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-11T05:43:42.881-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Other tidbits</title><content type='html'>I forgot to add the kids reactions to Kolya's arrival.  When I called mom right after he was born, she told the kids and then told me that they were "dancing around the kitchen".  This, of course, was probably followed by requests to come see him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next morning, I took them over to see mom and baby.  We got into the room with Ira and the bassinet containing Kolya and they started asking where he was.  I think they thought he would be Misha's size, or something like that.  They all got a turn holding him and had a bunch of questions.  Misha looked at him, said "Bebe", gave him a lean-in hug and then it was all about Mama.  I'll have to post the pic with him on the hospital bed with Ira.  He still says "Bebe" whenever he sees him or even when I mentioned his name over the phone.  He is aware, but not engaged.  He did reach through the crib and try to snag him yesterday morning though.  Gonna have to watch him closely, I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last two nights, either I have been really tired, or dad-preservation mode has kicked in cause I haven't heard Kolya squawking at night.  I think I only have woken up when Ira turns on her lamp and blinds me awake, but my selective hearing must be turned on.  Not that I am complaining, mind you.  I am still tuned in to Misha, though.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-7605245204493331711?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/7605245204493331711/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=7605245204493331711' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/7605245204493331711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/7605245204493331711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2008/06/other-tidbits.html' title='Other tidbits'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-8966968683815147316</id><published>2008-06-09T15:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T15:30:35.880-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Nikolai has arrived!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SE8sTFPx-oI/AAAAAAAAAC8/xf37D_LuXnc/s1600-h/S7300337.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SE8sTFPx-oI/AAAAAAAAAC8/xf37D_LuXnc/s320/S7300337.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210432000228457090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday the kids were invited to sing "I am a Child of God" in sacrament meeting.  One verse in English and the last two in Russian.  Ira and I were invited to say the opening/closing prayers as well.  Ira had her class and I was asked, at the last minute to teach Asya's class.  It was a busy Sunday.  Ira joked that after church stuff was done she would be available to give birth. Needless to say, when church was over, we thought we were in clear for the day.  We weren't even having dessert cause the grandparents were busy helping with an open house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After lunch, about 3 p.m. during the middle of a Monopoly match between Kiril and I, Ira mentioned that her Braxton Hicks contractions were getting stronger.  Now, you have to take that with a grain of salt cause Ira has been complaining about the contractions for days now.  But she said that these were different.  Then they started getting stronger.  So we had her start her sleep and slow breathing.  Then they faded and got quieter.   We were having a conundrum.  Either we wait and maybe rush to the hospital or get sent home.  So we called mom and dad and let them know that it may be today...or not.  Then we walked around the block.  She had 4 contractions just walking around the block.  It was now about 6 p.m.  and we decided to go.  During the interim, we had gathered the kids stuff to take to baba's house and so we were ready to load it into the van and take off.  So we took the kids to the open house, dropped them off.  Ira wasn't sure whether or not she was ready to go, so we hung out at baba's for a while.  She had a few contractions and we decided to drive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even after doing the pre-admittance, she didn't want to go up, so we walked around for a while until she was ready.  By the time we got up there and in the room it was 7:30ish.  I timed her last contraction at 7:39.  She was 6cm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With this pregnancy, Ira decided to go unmedicated and to try hypno-breathing.  Jennifer swears by it, so at least I had someone I trust give a good reference for it.  So throughout all her contractions she had been practicing her slow breathing.  Standing up, her contractions more frequent, but when she went to the bathroom they were strong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there we were, in the hospital.  I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do, so I just read to her out of the book and paused when she was having contraction.  I talked with the nurses for her, when I could and just did what she told me to.  A little after 9:30, she her contractions were getting stronger and a bit more uncomfortable.  She decided she wanted the epidural.  Before they put it in, they decided to check her one more time.  She was fully dilated and she decided to wait for Dr. Glenn and push.  Just then he walked in, suited up and we got things going.  It took about 3 pushes, but she was extremely calm during them...not like the last time when she was pulling a Bill Cosby's wife.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was over and done with quicker than I would have expected.  Ira wouldn't let them take him immediately and held him for a while.  Then they weighed him, cleaned him up a bit and she got to feed him.  He was 7lbs. 12 oz, 19.5 inches, and got 9/10 on his Apgars.  He came out pink and squawking.  I accompanied him down to the nursery for his work over.  Then the nurse in charge of Ira was busy with something so I got to hold him for about 1.5 hours until she was ready.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hung about the hospital until about 2ish and then decided that I wouldn't get to sleep in those fold out chairs with nurses popping in and out all the time, so I headed home and called Baba Liza and let her know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, Ira is somewhat of a heroine in the ward there, from what Dr. Glenn and one of the nurses said.  The nurse said that it was the calmest unmedicated birth that she had seen in her 2 years in the maternity ward.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-8966968683815147316?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/8966968683815147316/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=8966968683815147316' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/8966968683815147316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/8966968683815147316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2008/06/nikolai-has-arrived.html' title='Nikolai has arrived!'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SE8sTFPx-oI/AAAAAAAAAC8/xf37D_LuXnc/s72-c/S7300337.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-2844708458649182924</id><published>2008-06-02T20:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-02T20:55:54.156-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It has been a lot of fun watching Misha lately.  He has started to pick things up which we have been working on forever.  He is progressing simultaneously in fine and gross motor skills, as well as his speech. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Misha has developed enough muscle mass that he has started climbing.  He crawls up and down the couches, beds, and chairs.  At the park, he has started climbing the chain ladders other climbing bits.  Of course, most of the time I am standing behind him guiding or helping.  But he is doing it and has the courage to try.  And that is something.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;After months and months of working with him, he started to sign "Mama" and "Papa" with his fingers extended.  He is finally trying to sign "juice".  Signing Time is doing wonders with his signs.  He has picked up "wind", "leaf", "silly", etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;He is still trying new words/sounds verbally.  One of the people from Kids on the Move was here today and said to try to give him motivation and reinforcement to says words and sounds.  He tries sometimes, but still falls back on "up" or laughs when he thinks its too hard.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;School is out and that will give Ira more time with the kids...until Kolya is born.  She has grand plans for a summer learning program with them...all in Russian, of course.  We'll see how things go with a newborn in the house....which will be any time now.  Dr. Glenn says Kolya has engaged (lowered), and Ira is at 2cm and 60% effaced.  I expect a panicked call at work.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-2844708458649182924?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/2844708458649182924/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=2844708458649182924' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/2844708458649182924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/2844708458649182924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2008/06/it-has-been-lot-of-fun-watching-misha.html' title=''/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-5276620862649050789</id><published>2008-05-16T16:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T15:30:36.101-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ouch!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SC4d3-NjhMI/AAAAAAAAACs/3m2EESitVsg/s1600-h/et.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SC4d3-NjhMI/AAAAAAAAACs/3m2EESitVsg/s320/et.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201127467089364162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My mom says occasionally that Misha reminds her of E.T.  He has a little scrawny neck with creases of skin like the picture.  This week, he also figured out a word we have been working on forever.  I am not sure if it was a motor skills thing or he never made the connection, but he is finally signing "ouch".  And, he seems to have made the connection with things that hurt.  For instance, when I was getting him into his car seat this morning, I must have sat him wrong or something cause he started to "pain" whine and when I asked him what was wrong, he showed me "ouch".  When he went for a walk with Ira the other day, he kept wanting to go into the street, but she would stop him and tell him that there were cars that drove on the street.  Ira has explained this before and also that he could get hurt.  So she was surprised and pleased when he signed "ouch".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am excited for Misha to get the next two Signing Time DVDs next week.  He has been watching and enjoying thoroughly enjoying 1 &amp;amp; 2.  I think he is in a state of mind to pick up some new ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ira made me take her up to the Living Traditions festival in SLC.  Basically it consists of me loading the puppet theater into the van, driving her up, setting up the theater, doing puppet shows with her for 3 hours for a bunch of rowdy school kids&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-5276620862649050789?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/5276620862649050789/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=5276620862649050789' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/5276620862649050789'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/5276620862649050789'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2008/05/ouch.html' title='Ouch!'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SC4d3-NjhMI/AAAAAAAAACs/3m2EESitVsg/s72-c/et.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-6729018621746916464</id><published>2008-05-05T18:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T15:30:36.246-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Misha vs. Demothenes</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SB-1q5jcuHI/AAAAAAAAACk/B9ey1nY6qUo/s1600-h/3276151.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SB-1q5jcuHI/AAAAAAAAACk/B9ey1nY6qUo/s320/3276151.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197072243617478770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Misha has been having an interesting week.  Some switch has been thrown and he is more willing to try new words.  He still just laughs at us most of the time, but he picked up a couple of old words and a new one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He has also been very attentive to usage of words we are using in sentences.  If we mention the word "dog" even when we are talking with each other an not him, he will say "av-av".  Or when we say "car" he will do a raspberry.  The other day we said "liniya" (russian for "line") and he started repeating (not unlike E.T. in the movie) "anya! anya! anya!".  Then, the other day we were at mom's, I think and were talking when he started to say "aabee" for cousin Kobe.  He was so excited that he kept repeating it.  He also decided to remember that he used to say "Elmo" and "Alanna" -- "am-ma" and "a-ana".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have such hopes that he will learn to talk and be able to communicate better with us.  He is learning signs and makes some up, so we get the idea of what he wants or at least a good idea, but it would be cool if he could do much more.  At this rate he might.  Maybe I should try the pebbles in his mouth....well, no, he would just swallow them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-6729018621746916464?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/6729018621746916464/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=6729018621746916464' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/6729018621746916464'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/6729018621746916464'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2008/05/misha-vs-demothenes.html' title='Misha vs. Demothenes'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SB-1q5jcuHI/AAAAAAAAACk/B9ey1nY6qUo/s72-c/3276151.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-6823451201963801081</id><published>2008-04-28T06:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T15:30:36.359-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Slow but sure progress</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SBXScpjcuGI/AAAAAAAAACc/dZTP1VHhADk/s1600-h/cunningham_glenn.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SBXScpjcuGI/AAAAAAAAACc/dZTP1VHhADk/s320/cunningham_glenn.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194289134874441826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having a 1p36er, you never know what to expect.  So whenever Misha does something new, it's always a pleasant surprise, even when you have been working with him on it forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Misha's fine motor counselor(?) from Kids On the Move decided that the once a month visit was too often.  Ira has been doing such a good job with him that every other month was as much as he needed.  Woohoo!  We have noticed some improvements in this area but it's nice for a confirmation.  For instance, he started stacking blocks...by himself.  After working with him for over a year on this (probably closer to 2 years), he finally decided to do it.  He also figured out, and has developed the muscles needed, how to turn the key on a cookie tin/music box we got last Christmas.  Albeit, he can only turn it a bit, it's still the best fine motor skill yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Misha has also started to "run".  It mostly involves a faster, arms-in-the-air, version of his walk, but it is a large improvement for someone we weren't sure was going to walk with out braces or other assistance a year ago.  He runs when he is excited, just for fun, or when I tell him it's time to change a diaper. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Words are still one of his biggest challenges.  He has his set of words that he "likes" and sticks with those.  Then he either ignores us when we ask him to try other words, or he laughs at us.  And he seems to pick up a word, but drop another sometimes, as if he gets bored with it.  His newest words are "uck", "eenya" and "bee-bee" for "yuck", "liniya (line)" and "baby".  "Line" is Ira turning one of his sounds into a word and using it when he is scribbling. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We also graduated him from his crib to a toddler bed.  Which means that every night, I have to move him from Kiril's bed to his own.  And that as soon as I put him to bed, he crawls right off to play.  But, the transition was smooth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all, he is progressing slowly but surely and is a "golden" child.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S.  The picture above is of Glen Cunningham, whose legs were severely burned in a fire when he was a child and was never expected to walk unassisted, let alone become one of the fastest runners of his time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-6823451201963801081?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/6823451201963801081/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=6823451201963801081' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/6823451201963801081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/6823451201963801081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2008/04/slow-but-sure-progress.html' title='Slow but sure progress'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SBXScpjcuGI/AAAAAAAAACc/dZTP1VHhADk/s72-c/cunningham_glenn.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-8355664067039079884</id><published>2008-04-16T06:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T15:30:36.584-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The best laid schemes o' Mice an' Men</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SAX_k1lraMI/AAAAAAAAACM/OTKIfnKKgBM/s1600-h/pixford28.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SAX_k1lraMI/AAAAAAAAACM/OTKIfnKKgBM/s320/pixford28.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189835153939851458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being usually poor and having a father that taught me to do things myself, I usually attempt to do things myself when possible.  And so I have done with mixed results.  Saturday was my biggest foul ball ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have had a coolant leak for a while.  It drips and drips and I have had to add fluid or water ever once in a while for weeks now.  Finally, we figured it was leaking from my coolant sensor.  So, I pulled it out and broke it putting it back in and bought another and put it back in.  I thought that my have fixed it but,  to no avail.  Then dad said I should try putting some teflon tape on it.  So, last Saturday, I decided to give it a whirl.  I removed the sensor, put some tape on it and proceeded to put it back in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now understand, the location of said sensor is to say the least awkward.  To remove, or install, the sensor, I had to use a deep socket with a long extension cause a regular ratchet had to large a head.  Also there was only a 70 - 80 degree opening wherein I could turn the extension.  And with the other junk in the way, the extension is out at a 45 degree angle.  So needless to say a tedious job and kind of difficult to judge how things were going.  Tighten a little, reposition the socket, tighten, reposition, tighten, etc...  I was making good progress when suddenly I heard some dripping.  Wait...dripping???...there should be no dripping!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SAYBoVlraNI/AAAAAAAAACU/FdGTtv-koMs/s1600-h/D_oh.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SAYBoVlraNI/AAAAAAAAACU/FdGTtv-koMs/s320/D_oh.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189837413092649170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I looked down and sure enough, I had fluid dripping underneath the car.  So I whipped out my flashlight to look at my work area and saw a long silvery crack running vertically out of the socket for the coolant sensor.  @&amp;amp;*#&amp;amp; #**#*@!$ !!!!!@*!$$!@&lt;br /&gt; I broke my bloody car!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually, I am fairly proud of myself.  I didn't scream, yell, swear (well, I sort of swore in russian...I said "The devil take it" which is somewhat like dammit), and only gave the bumper a slight kick to show the car who was boss.  After all, who could I get mad at??? I was the putz that broke it.  It was ALL ME!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a miserable weekend wondering how much it would take to fix it, followed by a miserable Monday knowing how much it would take to fix it, followed by miserable (hasn't ended yet) realization how much it did cost to fix it.  Ira has let me off easy with only some good natured salt-in-wounds remarks.   After all, we weren't going to use that $800 bucks for anything important.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Silver lining (i.e. half hearted attempt to make myself feel less stupid) -- chevy's have a problem with the manifold gasket.  Eventually, it would have to be changed to the tune of $600 when it  cracked and the manifold developed a leak.  Now I have the updated gasket.  I also got a "free" oil change.  A thermostat tuneup, and my fluid swapped out.  And I learned an important lesson...again:  Working on cars sucks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-8355664067039079884?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/8355664067039079884/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=8355664067039079884' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/8355664067039079884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/8355664067039079884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2008/04/best-laid-schemes-o-mice-men.html' title='The best laid schemes o&apos; Mice an&apos; Men'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/SAX_k1lraMI/AAAAAAAAACM/OTKIfnKKgBM/s72-c/pixford28.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-6609212974616133377</id><published>2008-04-03T19:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T15:30:36.770-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's not me, so it must be you</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R_WTpX54z5I/AAAAAAAAACE/nMr27lJQtzU/s1600-h/group3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R_WTpX54z5I/AAAAAAAAACE/nMr27lJQtzU/s320/group3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185212884987727762" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is crazy.  I know this cause I live in it and I am not crazy.  Therefore the craziness around me must be incidental, and therefore not my fault.  That's my story and I am sticking to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dasha went to get her kindergarten shots today.  She got two in each leg and didn't even cry.  She was immensely proud of that and that she got Tweety-bird band-aids.  She is quite the dancing princess and is generally very pleasant except when she decides to be whiny.  And homie (papa) don't play 'dat. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I nearly had an Ivan the Terrible (among other things is known for killing his son in a fit of rage) moment with Kiril this past weekend.  I wont elaborate on a blog (family who haven't heard the tale can call or chat me for details).  But nevertheless, he was close to death.  VERY close to death.  Luckily for him I resorted just to being loud and gave him a light whap up side the head as a what-were-you-thinking gesture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Asya is very busy.  I think she will do well with a college schedule cause she has something like it now.  She takes too long on her homework and is the last kid in bed every night.  She was also invited to participate in this year's &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Feis"&gt;Feis&lt;/a&gt; in SLC with her dance troupe.  It will be expensive, but probably a lot of fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Misha is still the funnest kid around.  He keeps progressing sometimes in leaps, sometimes in bounds, sometimes in baby steps.  When we try to get him to say new words, he usually just laughs at us or says one of his backups.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ira is pregnant and that says most of it.  She is in the potty, or on the way to the potty half the time now.  The other half is spent saying how much she is tired of the potty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The houseguest is still around.  Ira happened to mention that she really didn't want to have a houseguest in the first place but wanted to do it for personal humanitarian growth.  My question was why I had to suffer for her personal growth.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are looking forward to Nikolai's (or Fyodr's...fickle, fickle Ira) grand entrance.  It should nicely fall sometime between the Highland festival and the Feis.  Then it's back to less sleep, more diapers, and church will get even more fun with two wiggly worms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My computer died at work today.  Nothing worse than spending a day at work trying to get another system working to be able to do your work.  I left without it being up.  And the dummy IT guys we pay to take care of this kind of stuff were an hour late.  I hope they grabbed the right computer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peace out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-6609212974616133377?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/6609212974616133377/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=6609212974616133377' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/6609212974616133377'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/6609212974616133377'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2008/04/life-is-crazy.html' title='It&apos;s not me, so it must be you'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R_WTpX54z5I/AAAAAAAAACE/nMr27lJQtzU/s72-c/group3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-5742907223642550007</id><published>2008-03-18T06:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-27T20:34:56.999-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Not Irish, but I do love bangers</title><content type='html'>This weekend was the St Patty's day parade in SLC.  Asya's dance group was slotted to perform, so it behooved me to drive everyone up for the festivities.  A couple notes for next year:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Dress the kids warmer (yes, I should have listened to Ira).&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Bring ear plugs for all for the siamsa afterwards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Bring some lawn chairs for the parade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Figure out a way to be there for the bagpipes, cause that's the only real fun I get out of it.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;It may be expensive, but set aside some funds for food there.  It's darn tasty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;Speaking of which, Kiril really wanted a "hot dog".  And I really wanted one too.  So I stood in line a while to purchase some fantastically overpriced Irish bangers (sausages).  Although I hate standing in line, it turned to my advantage.  The vendor, it seems, had failed to get their food handlers permits so they were unable to serve hot food.  But, since we were in line, they decided to give us the bangers for free.  Yum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, Asya came home with an award the other day.  In spite of us having to get after her all the time, and forbidding her from taking her books to school (cause she reads in class instead of doing her work), she succeeded in placing in the top 10 percent of readers in the nation on her standardized tests.  Must have her old man's genes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Misha has made some great progress in his fine motor skills.  Yesterday the KOTM guy, Mark, was there working with him and while we were discussing stuff, Misha stacked three blocks on top of each other by himself, without prompting.  We have been working on that stuff for ages.  Misha has also started "dancing".  He  leans his head to one side and starts circling.  It's great fun to see.  I'll have to film it and post it later.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-5742907223642550007?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/5742907223642550007/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=5742907223642550007' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/5742907223642550007'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/5742907223642550007'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2008/03/not-irish-but-i-do-love-bangers.html' title='Not Irish, but I do love bangers'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-7797040939861610736</id><published>2008-02-29T06:28:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T15:30:36.992-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Houdini does it again</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R8gWsbLR-lI/AAAAAAAAAB8/1ZaDfCVBDGI/s1600-h/houdini.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R8gWsbLR-lI/AAAAAAAAAB8/1ZaDfCVBDGI/s320/houdini.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172409124500142674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;There are certain things that Misha REALLY enjoys.  Cheese, bath-time, animals, and playing outside.  With the mom either busy or ill this past little while and with spring fever evidently kicking in, Misha always enjoys outside time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I came home feeling somewhat ugh.  The flu has run it's course through my family these past couple of weeks.   I don't know if I got the flu or a cold bug, but yesterday I decided to come home early from work and rest.  Feeling a little achy.  When I got home I tried to rest in my room, but the wife, who still has a nice cough, wouldn't let me rest, so I relocated to the living room, taking Misha with me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alisa was doing her math homework, the Houseguest was doing something at the kitchen table.  Misha was playing around.  Kiril and Dasha asked if they could play outside to which I responded to the affirmative.  Like all kids their attention to detail lacks something significant, and when the left the house, the front door was not securely shut. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I fell asleep finally but was rudely awoken.  Kiril motioned me over to the front door.  When I stood up and walked over, I beheld Misha in the arms of a strange couple.  They had retrieved him from the center of the semi busy street just to the north of my house.  Being still a bit groggy, I got my semi-profuse thanks and tried to figure out how it had happened seeing as how both Asya AND the Houseguest were sitting in view of the front door.  It turned out that Asya had even closed the door when she saw it open. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the second time Misha has escaped and headed that direction.  The first time, I was in the shower and Ira was surfing the net when the cat (who is not currently a housecat) appeared.  She went to investigate and saw the door open and then went looking for Misha who was nearly to the same road.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gonna have to buy a bell to tie around that kids neck...or a ankle monitor.  Geez.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-7797040939861610736?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/7797040939861610736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=7797040939861610736' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/7797040939861610736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/7797040939861610736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2008/02/houdini-does-it-again.html' title='Houdini does it again'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R8gWsbLR-lI/AAAAAAAAAB8/1ZaDfCVBDGI/s72-c/houdini.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-20652637367744025</id><published>2008-02-26T10:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T15:30:37.175-08:00</updated><title type='text'>EU trying to take over the world</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R8RdUKpmBiI/AAAAAAAAAB0/ja-U_HcwmME/s1600-h/videoHP7.gif.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R8RdUKpmBiI/AAAAAAAAAB0/ja-U_HcwmME/s320/videoHP7.gif.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171360873165751842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The European Commission has just announced an agreement whereby English will be the official language of the European Union rather than  German,  which was the other possibility.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As part  of the negotiations, the British Government conceded that English spelling had  some room for improvement and has accepted a 5- year phase-in plan  that would become known as "Euro-English" .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the first year,  "s" will replace the soft "c".  Sertainly, this will make the sivil  servants jump with joy. The hard "c" will be dropped  in favour of "k". This should klear up konfusion, and keyboards &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:state st="on"&gt;kan&lt;/st1:state&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;  have one less letter. There will be growing publik enthusiasm in the sekond year when the troublesome "ph" will be replaced with "f". This will make words like fotograf 20%  shorter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the 3rd year, publik akseptanse of the new spelling kan be expekted to reach the stage where! more komplikated changes are possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Governments will enkourage the removal of double letters which have always ben a deterent to akurate speling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, al wil agre that the horibl mes of the silent "e" in the languag is disgrasful and it should go&lt;br /&gt;away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the 4th yer people wil be reseptiv to steps such as replasing "th" with "z" and "w" with "v".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During ze fifz yer, ze unesesary "o" kan be dropd from vords kontaining "ou" and after ziz fifz yer, ve vil hav a reil sensi bl riten styl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zer vil be no mor trubl or difikultis and evrivun vil find it ezi tu understand ech oza. Ze drem of a united urop vil finali kum tru.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Und efter ze fifz yer, ve vil al be speking German like zey vunted in ze forst plas.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-20652637367744025?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/20652637367744025/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=20652637367744025' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/20652637367744025'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/20652637367744025'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2008/02/eu-trying-to-take-over-world.html' title='EU trying to take over the world'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R8RdUKpmBiI/AAAAAAAAAB0/ja-U_HcwmME/s72-c/videoHP7.gif.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-5681833087770765912</id><published>2008-02-21T06:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T15:30:37.283-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't come knockin at my door no mo!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R72OV6pmBhI/AAAAAAAAABs/9MD9OKtTHBI/s1600-h/22618563.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R72OV6pmBhI/AAAAAAAAABs/9MD9OKtTHBI/s320/22618563.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169444454463309330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I received a knock at the door.  I was in the middle of getting dinner on the table to feed the ravaging hordes of kiddies swarming about my legs.  It was a loud obnoxious knock of someone who either knows my family, or isn't bloody well likely to.  It turned out to be the latter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even more annoying than telemarketers are door-to-door salesmen.  Some guy was out promoting his business's wares.  In this case, it was home security systems.  He claimed to be promoting in this area and if I was willing to post his advert on my window, then he was willing to give me FOR FREE the system and installation at a savings of several hundreds of dollars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sorry, but&lt;br /&gt;1.  I hate door-to-door salesmen.&lt;br /&gt;2.  When I tell you I am not interested, I will give you one freebie to continue with your promotion because I understand it's your job and you have been scripted.&lt;br /&gt;3.  If you fail to stop after the 2nd or 3rd hint, I am not going to be nice any more.&lt;br /&gt;4.  I gotta get a No Soliciting sign.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This guy was pointless, he wouldn't listen when I told him I was getting dinner on (hint, not a good time), when I wouldn't let him in my house to look at my back door (hint, why do you want to enter my house?), when I told him more than once that I wasn't interested (hint, I am not interested), and when I still was not interested (hint, still not interested).  I finally had to shut the door on him.  What I should have done is told him that if he showed up again I would shoot him in the foot, and under no circumstances would I ever buy from his company for the sole fact that he was a schmeckel and wouldn't leave me after I stated my disinterest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's decided, I am going invest in a door sign and a water pistol.  If the sign doesn't discourage them, I am sure the water pistol will.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-5681833087770765912?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/5681833087770765912/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=5681833087770765912' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/5681833087770765912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/5681833087770765912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2008/02/dont-come-knockin-at-my-door-no-mo.html' title='Don&apos;t come knockin at my door no mo!'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R72OV6pmBhI/AAAAAAAAABs/9MD9OKtTHBI/s72-c/22618563.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-8050209983005880915</id><published>2008-02-02T18:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-02T19:12:47.174-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Misha does drama</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-1d77ee7e943f2532" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v12.nonxt8.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D1d77ee7e943f2532%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329929483%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D6BA6945A310F737705CF180CE4E4DC38D3BD5787.807F0C87580CCB887E7FDA1AD2AE38138E98B5F6%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D1d77ee7e943f2532%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DQHy_l61cMKZxZmykvQTtTOWHSzg&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v12.nonxt8.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D1d77ee7e943f2532%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329929483%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D6BA6945A310F737705CF180CE4E4DC38D3BD5787.807F0C87580CCB887E7FDA1AD2AE38138E98B5F6%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D1d77ee7e943f2532%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DQHy_l61cMKZxZmykvQTtTOWHSzg&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have been trying to get Misha to expand his language skill for quite a long time.  They are better than his reading skills but lack behind his ninja skills.  For those who do not speak russian, here is the translation:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Papa:  How does Misha sneeze?&lt;br /&gt;Misha:  Aaaaaah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Papa:  How does Misha laugh?&lt;br /&gt;Misha:  laughs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Papa:  How does Misha cry?&lt;br /&gt;Misha:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Papa:  How does Misha scream?&lt;br /&gt;Misha:  squeaks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Papa:  How does Misha cough? (2x)&lt;br /&gt;Misha: Coughs.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-8050209983005880915?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=1d77ee7e943f2532&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/8050209983005880915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=8050209983005880915' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/8050209983005880915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/8050209983005880915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2008/02/misha-does-drama.html' title='Misha does drama'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-5774092522698292016</id><published>2008-01-31T07:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-09-24T06:27:25.686-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Silly spam questionnaire</title><content type='html'>&lt;pre&gt;&lt;tt&gt;&lt;tt&gt;My sister sent this to me ages ago, And I forgot to finish filling it out.  Had a moment so, here it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. What is your occupation?   programmer, although I am a cook, babysitter, father, husband, grouch and so on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. What color are your socks right now?  White...ish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. What are you listening to right now? iTunes has "Combe Magna" from the Sense and Sensibility soundtrack by Patrick Doyle queued up.&lt;br /&gt;4. What was the last thing that you ate? A bacon, egg, and cheese breakfast burrito.&lt;br /&gt;5. Can you drive a stick shift?  Yup.  Learned to do that when I couldn't even drive a automatic too well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. If you were a crayon, what color would you be? I hate crayons.  Unlike my redheaded sister, my personality type is not red.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Last person you spoke to on the phone? Mom.  She told me to stop being so grouchy when practicing music with the kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. How old are you today? 33 and 330 days old.&lt;br /&gt;9. Favorite drink? A nice tall glass of ice water....and red cream soda...and root beer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. What is your favorite sport to watch? Chess...just kidding.  Dunno, whatever happens to be on that's not golf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. Have you ever dyed your hair? No, but I kinda bleached it once.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. Favorite Pets?  Not anymore.  Pets are a nuisance.  Speaking for one that had to clean up a large pile of undigested doggie barf the other day.&lt;br /&gt;     &lt;br /&gt;13. Favorite food?  I had this soup in Budapest last year that was to die for.  It was so freakin good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. What was the last movie you watched?  "Dan in Real Life"...liked it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. Favorite holiday of the year? Holiday??? I think the last holiday I had was when I got knee surgery and was laid up for a couple days.  Holidays are strenuous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. What do you do to vent anger? I grouch which includes yelling.  I used to slam doors and stuff, but Ira really gets pissed off at that, so I stopped.  I also withdraw into my Josh shell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. What was your favorite toy as a child?  legos and action figures probably.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. What is your favorite, fall or spring? Yes.  They are not summer or winter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. Hugs or kisses?  Depends on who is the receiver and who is the giver.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. Cherries or Blueberries? both&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. Do you want your friends to email you back? Not really, I prefer to chat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22. Who is most likely to respond? No one, this is a blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23. Who is least likely to respond? No one, this is still a blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24. Living arrangements? Home in Orem.  Live with wife, kids, pets, and soon we will have a house guest...i am so thrilled. yuck..I mean yay (houseguest is gone, now have mother-in-law).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25. When was the last time you cried? Real men don't cry, they get something in their eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26. What is on the floor of your closet? Shoes and other misc. items.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;29. Favorite smells?  Winter.  Pine trees.  Beef roast on fast sunday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;28. What did you do last night? Made dinner, reviewed homework, cleaned up from dinner, read with kids, read to wife.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30. What inspires you? Music, certain people and speeches.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;31. What are you afraid of? The world...it's a scary place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;32. Plain, cheese or spicy hamburgers?  Yes.  Hamburgers are tasty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;33. Favorite dog breed? My neighbor's dog.  Just because it isn't my dog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;34. How many years at your current job? 4...with a six month sabbatical&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;35. Favorite place you've ever been?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;36. How many states have you lived in? 2, plus a couple of foreign countries&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;37. Favorite day of the week? After a hard week at work, Friday.  After a long weekend at home, Monday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;38. Ever driven motorcycle or heavy machinery? Been on a motorcycle...in minus centigrade degree weather in the winter on snow and ice.  I also drove tractors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;39. Who's your favorite NFL team?  Don't have one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;40. Do you have a house phone that is not cordless? Yes.  In the hall.&lt;/tt&gt;&lt;/tt&gt;&lt;/pre&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-5774092522698292016?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/5774092522698292016/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=5774092522698292016' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/5774092522698292016'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/5774092522698292016'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2008/01/silly-spam-questionnaire.html' title='Silly spam questionnaire'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-2014719439225229199</id><published>2008-01-30T07:30:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T15:30:37.445-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pres Hinckley</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6CaOFRDjmI/AAAAAAAAABA/sI_r24lP9kk/s1600-h/prophets16.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6CaOFRDjmI/AAAAAAAAABA/sI_r24lP9kk/s320/prophets16.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161294739689148002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since President Hinckley died the other day, I have been perusing many of the tributes found in the media.  I don't watch much TV, especially since Ira put a month-long moratorium on it, so it's been mostly what I can find on the internet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was pleasantly surprised to find that both the BBC and a russian news site had articles on his passing.  In fact, the BBC article was headlined on their site longer that the CNN article was.  So much for being an "American" prophet.  I also really enjoyed &lt;a href="http://www.glennbeck.com/content/articles/article/200/5127/"&gt;Glenn Beck's tribute&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that the brightest of feelings for his passing have burned lower, I can at my own little tribute.  Pres. Hinckley was one of the greatest men of our time.   His ability to communicate and reach people at all levels was truly spectacular.  I was always eager to hear him speak.  He was non-trivial, non-apologetic, to the point, direct and right.  But even when he was calling people to repentance, he did it in such a way that you would not be offended by it.  That was because everything he did and said was driven by the Christ-like love he had.  He was and is a true disciple of Christ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Praise to the man!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-2014719439225229199?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/2014719439225229199/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=2014719439225229199' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/2014719439225229199'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/2014719439225229199'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2008/01/pres-hinckley.html' title='Pres Hinckley'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6CaOFRDjmI/AAAAAAAAABA/sI_r24lP9kk/s72-c/prophets16.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-7186578714712935084</id><published>2008-01-25T06:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-25T07:12:43.277-08:00</updated><title type='text'>An update</title><content type='html'>The household update:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ira is still pregnant.  She regresses even more into her sleepy shell as time goes on.  We have been reading the book for her book club together...that is I have been reading it out loud while she listens until she falls asleep.  She rather enjoys it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alisa got into "trouble" recently at school for not staying on task because she is too busy reading a book in class.  Had to have a talk and threaten her with punishment aside from restricting her reading activities to recess and home.  It's a double edged sword.  On one hand it's a good thing she likes to read.  She has a good memory and books fill her up.  On the other hand, her grades took a dip this semester (in class grades, homework was fine).  And I have to admit that I get extremely frustrated when doing her math homework that I have to explain concepts behind problems she has been doing ALL YEAR LONG!!!  Line graphs are the worst.  But other than that, she is a good helper, especially with Misha.  Of the three kids, she bonds with him the best and he reciprocates.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kiril also was mentioned by his teacher as being disruptive in class.  He will raise his hand, then not say anything.  He also talks and turns around.  Which is what he does at home.  At the dinner table, I have to threaten his life so that he will sit down in his seat and eat instead of jabber.  It was his birthday yesterday and got some Star Wars Legos and the starter set for the Orc/Knight battle game.  He also recently started Irish step dancing and was complimented on his first day for one of the dance moves.  All his talent will come to frutation, it seems.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dasha is usually quite a bit of fun.  She also started Irish step dancing and enjoys it.  Whereas Alisa will find a book and sit reading for hours whether or not she is supposed to be doing something else, and Kiril will demand your attention to keep him busy, Dasha can occupy herself quietly and productively for a long time.  Where Asya will sit and hum some random note progression like a broken radio, Dasha will make up songs to sing to herself.  She is quite independent and times, but enjoys the company of mom and dad.  Yesterday she and Ira went for a walk with the dog to deliver invitations to Kiril's party.  On the way, Dasha talked and talked and then told Ira she wanted to go for walks every evening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Misha is...well....Misha.  He has hit a plateau of sorts with some things, but still progresses slowly.  He still does things that surprise me.  On Sunday at Mom's, he was wandering around and ended up near the TV.  He picked up a DVD case, got Ira's attention, pointed the video, then at the TV.  And it wasn't even a video that he watches.   In explanation, he is quite sensitive to new audio/video entertainment.  Ira has to force him to read a new book several times before he accepts it and will ask to read it.  New songs make him cry and run away.  Videos are similar, but I think the visual stimuli is more tantalizing and he is more forgiving.  He has started to show Ira when he wants his diaper changed, like when he is stinky.  That is great news.  We might get him potty trained before he starts preschool.  Its a lofty goal, but it would be cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And me, I am just me.   I ride the bus to work.  I work.  I come home, do dinner, help the kids with the homework and read (the month without tv/games is nearly over, heh, heh, heh).  Life is fairly simple in most respects.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-7186578714712935084?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/7186578714712935084/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=7186578714712935084' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/7186578714712935084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/7186578714712935084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2008/01/update.html' title='An update'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-1938537715606641579</id><published>2008-01-11T06:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-11T07:22:37.948-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It made me sad</title><content type='html'>Yesterday, I was perusing the news, as I usually do and hit an article which really hit me for some reason.  It was about some single mom, somewhere in America who was recovering from a drug addiction.  According to her family, she was turning her life around.  She lived alone with her toddler, a young boy about two years of age.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Evidentially, the boy and his mom were found dead in their apartment.  The mother had died of natural causes.  The boy had died from starvation days later.  In my minds eye, I saw the boy wandering around the apartment and mommy isn't talking to him.  She is asleep.  He gets hungry and thirsty and begins to cry and cry and mommy isn't doing anything.  They said he was trying to scavage some food, but couldn't.  In the end, I could see him lying there too weak to cry anymore.  It made me sad because this kinda thing could happen to Misha.  Not only that, but Misha had a fever yesterday and was just lying there.  He was feeling too poorly to sit up or stand on his own or even do much eating.  So I kinda had a glimpse of what it would be like.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-1938537715606641579?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/1938537715606641579/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=1938537715606641579' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/1938537715606641579'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/1938537715606641579'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2008/01/it-made-me-sad.html' title='It made me sad'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-6341271315702809043</id><published>2008-01-02T18:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-02T18:28:38.513-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Misha's first word</title><content type='html'>Misha has a vocabulary of a dozen words or so.  Most of them are animal sounds, like "a-khiii" for cat (it sounds like the russian word for cat..."KI-sa".  Or dog..."av av", or goose..."ga-ga-ga".  His best word is "up!", which he pronounces quite crisp.  And there is mama, baba, papa and a couple others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Misha also signs several words.  More, again, milk, eat, drink, sleep, yes, no, etc.  One day, while putting him to bed, I noticed that he was showing me a new sign which I had never seen before.  I have watched his Signing Time videos several times and couldn't remember that one anywhere.  But it was so appropriate and understandable, it was easy to figure out.  He put one finger in his mouth and moved it back and forth..."brush my teeth".  Amazing...he can't speak it, but he is smart enough to make up his own sign that makes a lot of sense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Misha has also started comforting people when they are "hurt".  For instance, when he gets frustrated, he will sometimes hit myself or Ira, but whenever he does we tell him that it hurts, which instantly turns off the frustration and he has started giving hugs.  Or when one of the other kids hurts themselves or is crying, he does the same thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another major progression was that the other day, I noticed him while he was playing using a toy in an appropriate role.  He was crawling along on the floor and found a small matchbox size car.  He did his car noise (kind of like a raspberry with his lips), then flipped it over onto its wheels and moved it back and forth.   This is great progress.  He is picking stuff up really fast right now.  It's exciting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-6341271315702809043?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/6341271315702809043/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=6341271315702809043' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/6341271315702809043'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/6341271315702809043'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2008/01/mishas-first-word.html' title='Misha&apos;s first word'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-9052331832792886362</id><published>2007-11-26T19:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-26T20:06:37.665-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My daughter, the bag lady</title><content type='html'>Dasha is a well known bag lady.  Wherever she goes, she tends to drag with her at least one of her several bags.  Whether its the fuzzy russian one that Baba Liza sent, or the Victoria's Secret bag that Ira gave her (left over from a gift on Ira's birthday), she stuffs them full of odds and ends and drags them around with her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think this in in preparation for when she becomes a teenager.  It is well known that women tend to carry a lot of odd things in their purses.  I should know.  I spent a year rummaging through them at the US Embassy.  C'mon, do you really need to drag squid with you to your visa interview?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of which, Dasha just turned five years old.  It's staggering to thing that our littlest girl...she really was our smallest child, born at 5 1/2 lbs...is 5.  She will start school next year.  I remember being able to hold her with one hand.  She is quite an individual.  You can never tell with her what mood she will be in next.   Whether she is being cuddly, goofy, ornery, pouty, whiny, giggly, introspective or good, she will turn on a dime and try a different tactic on you.  All in all, she has grown fairly independent at home.  Whereas Kiril needs someone to entertain him, Dasha can play for hours by herself.  She will play dolls or just sit there reading a book and making up songs.  Dasha is fun.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-9052331832792886362?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/9052331832792886362/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=9052331832792886362' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/9052331832792886362'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/9052331832792886362'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2007/11/my-daughter-bag-lady.html' title='My daughter, the bag lady'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-1279823409895479743</id><published>2007-11-14T17:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-14T18:15:39.735-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's hard to say no.</title><content type='html'>For a long time, Misha hated the word "no".  When you said it to him, he would get upset and do his pouty face.  But, it was an effective method of getting him to not do something.  Teaching him to sign it was a problem too.   His fine motor skills are still lacking, so fine finger movements like that are difficult.  Finally, about a couple weeks ago, I started to teach him by moving his fingers for him.  Then one day I asked him a yes or no question and he signed no.  Never mind that it looks more like 'bird' than 'no', we both understood what he was doing.  Now I just have to teach him to use it independently...like 'cheese'.  That is his current favorite word. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Misha was ill this morning.  I think it's the first time I have seen him really sick.  When I got him out of bed this morning he was more sedate than usual.  Usually when I change his diaper in the morning, he is trying to crawl away to attack Ira or signing 'food', but this morning, he just lay there.  Didn't even respond when I tickled him.  Then I left him to help Kiril find a shirt.  While I was down there, I put the wet clothes drying and more dirty clothes washing.  By the time I got back upstairs, Misha was just barely walking down the hall when usually he would have followed us downstairs or gone to find something to play.  When I passed him to put the hamper back in the bathroom, he just sat down and whined quietly.   By that time it had gotten through my head that maybe he wasn't feeling well, so to test it, I picked him up and put him on the couch.  He just sat there, lying against a throw pillow, poking his belly button.  I wish I would have had a camera.  He stayed there while I made breakfast.  He ate a good breakfast and that seemed to cure him, cause a little while later he was starting to play.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's tough when I can't communicate very effectively with Misha to know what he needs.  Guess I need to study more signing and teach him some more.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-1279823409895479743?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/1279823409895479743/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=1279823409895479743' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/1279823409895479743'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/1279823409895479743'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2007/11/its-hard-to-say-no.html' title='It&apos;s hard to say no.'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-607148126780125885</id><published>2007-10-24T11:22:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-24T11:34:00.291-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Misha and the Shrink</title><content type='html'>Misha recently had an appointment with the UD'oh (Utah Dept of Health).  One of a couple he will have in the next month.  This one was with a psychologist.  Basically they had him in again for observations to figure out how much he has progressed in the past year or so.  Or was it six months...I don't recall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basically, we got to visit with the psychologist and have her do some diagnostics on the boy.  She asked a lot of questions to us and to Misha.  He answered some and ignored others and we had to translate the bulk of it.  But he did really well.  He was really curious and walked around trying to open cupboards and the door and so on.  The really exciting bit was when, at the end of the visit, she drew a small bell curve and showed us where Misha is in comparison to other 2 year olds in his IQ range.  It turns out that he fits in the lower end of the normal IQ range for 2 year olds (90% of 2 year olds fit into that range).  That was very pleasing news.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We know he understands alot more than he can express.  The signing helps and we all are learning to communicate better.  He also seems to be edging closer to words.  He has picked up a couple recently:  "Up!" when he wants us to pick him up and "BBBBB-BAA!" (like a rasberry with Baa! at the end) for the russian word for tube(tru-BA).  He recently got a cloth and wire frame tube that he loves to play in.    So we'll see how he does.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I plan on adding photos here when we get a replacement for the camera that broke on the Mother-daughter retreat.  Shame on you Ira for leaving it in the hands of the little ghouls (girls).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-607148126780125885?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/607148126780125885/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=607148126780125885' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/607148126780125885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/607148126780125885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2007/10/misha-and-shrink.html' title='Misha and the Shrink'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-4507424004611247132</id><published>2007-10-10T16:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-10T16:52:35.787-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cognative thinking</title><content type='html'>It's quite a thrill when Misha picks up something new.  Not only cause he is the baby, but because we just don't know what to expect from him.  The 1p36 syndrome is uncharted territory, not only for us, but for the medical world as well.  There just isn't any information that can tell us what to expect.  So any forward progress is cause for rejoicing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Misha has recently figured out that electronics are fun.  He enjoys pushing buttons, the TV's buttons, the radio's buttons, my buttons.  And belly buttons.  Ira got him interested in belly buttons so he actively seeks them out.  This makes his siblings laugh when he lifts up their shirts in search of the elusive bellybutton, but it makes the ladies in nursery blush a bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day, he was playing with a couple of wooden boxes that Ira bought and dropped a lid.  As per the instructions from the speech therapist, I thought I would try giving him some complex instructions.  I told Misha to pick up the lid and put it in it's place.  He complied.  I was slightly gobbsmacked.  Then, a few minutes ago, he was engaged with pulling DVDs from the shelf.  He walked over to a DVD laying on one of our end tables picked it up and carried it over and placed it on top of a row of DVDs on the shelf.  Then with some prompting I asked him to do the same with one of the DVDs he pulled off the shelf.  I was pleasantly amazed when he successfully pulled that one off too.  Yay for Misha!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-4507424004611247132?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/4507424004611247132/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=4507424004611247132' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/4507424004611247132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/4507424004611247132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2007/10/cognative-thinking.html' title='Cognative thinking'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6827714604218801431.post-2886621762135950909</id><published>2007-10-09T19:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-09T20:01:55.030-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Move</title><content type='html'>I decided to move over from my old blog site to this one.  It seems to be the more popular of the two.  Not that many people read my blogs anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Misha is growing.  He is tall and thin like Asya, but hasn't the bone density she was born with.  We have an appointment with the Health Dept. in a week.  They should be interested in how much he has changed over the past several months.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Signing Time DVDs have been fun for him.  He gets giddy when offer to let him watch one.  He has picked up several signs from them and understands Russian and English versions of each.  He has also interpreted  or made up a sign of his own which we have yet to figure out.  He points to his open palm with his index finger.  It means something to him but nothing to us.  Either we will figure it out, or we will have to make it mean something significant.  The thing is, he doesn't show it to me, just Ira and the aunts, uncles, grandma, and grandpa.  He also won't say "UP!" to me either without prompting, but will to Ira, grandma, and even Justin (a friend of mine).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6827714604218801431-2886621762135950909?l=candle-ends.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/feeds/2886621762135950909/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6827714604218801431&amp;postID=2886621762135950909' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/2886621762135950909'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6827714604218801431/posts/default/2886621762135950909'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candle-ends.blogspot.com/2007/10/move.html' title='A Move'/><author><name>Candle Ends</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14260392147611209077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_RYjnmONrRjo/R6IsOlRDjoI/AAAAAAAAABM/x79WtUW4dxs/S220/yeltsin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
