Category: Carter

Carter, Confessions, Eliott

Some Dance Camp Cuteness

I mainly do these video posts for family, so forgive my obvious/obnoxious suburban mommy-blog aren’t-my-children-the-greatest posts.

You know I don’t try to be that Mom.

As of yet, I’ve not promised that home videos and picture slide shows will “never” be playing in the background of a life celebration at some point. Now that we have Apple TV, it is all made easier.

The first two are Carter, who is in black in the back. Sorry for the bad camera placement. The second two are Eliott, who should be obvious by her attitude and sass alone. This girl might have a future as a Laker Girl. Enjoy.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Not that anyone is counting, but if you want to subscribe to my You Tube videos, apparently that’s a thing now. I can’t direct on how to do it, but by all means, feel free to post directions in the comments if you figure it out.

Carter, Confessions, Eliott, Isaiah

Cheerios and Pancakes

In the last month or so, my almost eight month old son has slowly been transitioning away from a predominantly milk-filled diet, to a predominantly food-filled diet. Because he’s my third child, and because he does not go to daycare, I have not been paying much attention to exactly how much I feed him during the day. This is why up until about two weeks ago, I mistook his crying and screaming for personal mommy-hatred, when in truth, he was just starving.

It is far too easy to take things personally in stay-at-home mommy land.

This morning I was feeding him Cheerios one-by-one in the high chair while I ate pancakes. He had just finished a big bottle, yet I still underestimated his hunger. When I ran out of Cheerios, instead of getting up to get more from the pantry, I simply gave him a bite of my pancakes. And then another. And then we were sharing my pancakes. And then the pancakes were gone.

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Carter, Confessions

Bedtime With Carter

I’m sharing a glimpse into the best part of my day.

I need watch this, to remind me that somewhere, deep deep inside the Tiny Monster, a sweet spirit exists.

An actual sweet spirit, not the one she turns on when she’s looking to get out of punishment, get back at Eliott, or seeking to fill all twenty-nine pounds of herself with a sense of power over all things bigger than she is.

Oh. My little crab.

Grace for the moment.

Carter, Confessions

Summer Catch Up

I can’t decide if my lack of blogging right now is a positive indication of blissful busy-ness, or a negative reflection of how much time I’ve wasted playing Candy Crush Saga.

At any rate, there is such a thing as downtime in my day. It comes in five to fifteen minute bursts. Understandably, Candy Crush is the preferable option for turning off my brain.

This does not mean my life is boring. It simply means I currently lack the mental fortitude to recreate daily stories in writing.

Bear with me for a moment, while I muse on some scientific studies for which I have no reference points and can only call to mind via hearsay and vague memory. I’ve read (somewhere) that hormones and memory are directly linked. I’m sure the details were part of a conversation about women who lose their minds after becoming mothers.

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Carter, Confessions

A Typical Conversation With The Tiny Monster

I’ve said before that The Terrible Two’s don’t exist in our house. My children suffer, or more appropriately–make me suffer–from The Terrible Three’s. And it seems that Carter is spending her last two weeks of Three-dom getting as much of it in as possible.

Don't be deceived by that face. There's a reason we call her The Tiny Monster.
Don’t be deceived by that face. There’s a reason we call her The Tiny Monster. This is just step one of innocently squishing her brother beneath that foot.

Piss and vinegar. Available only in Carter-sized containers.

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Carter, Confessions, Eliott

Life With Eliott and Carter, 2012 Edition

January 29
John to Me: Does this shirt make me look like I’m trying to be 18?
Me: Why, because it says Abercrombie?
John: Yes, or because it’s so tight?
Me: No, you look good. It isn’t too tight. Seriously. Leave it, we have to go.
Carter: Daddy, you wearing you nipples today?
John: Nevermind, I’m changing.

February 3
“Well, we could choose apple juice, milk or water. And this girl in my class said, ‘Everyone who chooses apple juice only can be my friend.’ So I chose milk. But guess what, when we got to the Life Center, she was still my friend.”
Somebody get this girl a D.A.R.E. Bear, now.

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Carter, Confessions, Eliott

Friday Fun

I am regularly full of brilliant ideas to write about. Stupidly, the majority of them hit me while I am physically attached to a child and therefore unable to do anything with my hands besides play my turn on Scramble. (This is also why I haven’t won against my sister Erica in the last nine rounds.)

Then I got an infection in my right thumbnail. Here’s a fun challenge: try typing for an entire day and only hitting the spacebar with the the thumb you never use. Actually, just do it for fifteen minutes. You’ll get the gist.

Between Epsom salt soaks, garlic water soaks, doc appointments, a round of antibiotics pumping through me and a baby (which, if you know anything about antibiotics and digestion you will understand when I say that these had the opposite of the usual affect on Isaiah), and now, ointment, understandably, I’ve been absent.

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