Everyday moments captured.
Antics and mischief too.
Nuthin’ but a cell phone.
(I’m jeannettg if you want to follow!)
Henry got a remote control helicopter for Christmas.
So Andy bought himself one too. You know, so they could play together.
I tease Andy that he really just wanted a toy (which is true), but I love that the boys bond over these things.
I love seeing their relationship grow as Henry is getting older.
And if you’re wondering, there were a couple of neighbor kids over. Weekends are a mish mash of kids at various houses.
Also, Jill has no pants on.
Oh no, no, no, no, no, no.
I like that I can put you on the floor, leave the room, and find you in the same place I left you.
I realize Henry and Lucy were walking by 9-10 months, but I was really hoping you’d drink in that last baby gig and take advantage of people carrying you around and bringing you things.
MEMO: Cabooses are supposed to go much slower than this.
Also, you have no wrists.
My sister Diana is pregnant with her first baby.
These are the kinds of encouraging, loving texts I send her.
But really, if her baby looks like a monkey, it’ll be a bummer. Although, really, we can just shave it. It’ll be fine.
Uggggghhhhhhh. I can’t STAND solids.
It’s messy and time consuming and just so much more work than nursing.
But I finally gave in and pureed some carrots.
Yes, I make my own baby food. I don’t think you are a slacker mom if you buy the little jars. I’m just cheap and I’m hyper weird about what my kids eat when they are bitty.
By the time they are 2…chicken nuggets, corn dogs, and mac and cheese are fair game.
I make no sense.
Owen haaaaates carrots.
Not only was this first attempt messy…but he spit everything out and GAGGED. Like, dry heaving gagged.
This boy likes his milk. I have a feeling this is going to be a battle.
Also, Andy stinks at taking pictures. Good grief. Blurry much?
Oh dear friends.
I made a horrible, terrible, no good, very bad mistake this week.
Moon Dough was on clearance at Michaels. I thought it was some off brand of Play Doh.
No, no, no, no, no, no, no.
Moon Dough is from the devil.
It’s like someone took dryer lint and sidewalk chalk and put it through a food processor.
It’s light and wispy and floats away and makes A GIANT HUGE AWFUL MESS. One hundred million times worse than Play Doh.
It is impossible to contain. Impossible to clean up.
And now I have like 8 containers of it. Deeeaaaaaatttthhhhhhhhh.
How cute is my (other not-pregnant) little sister?
She was going to The Ellen Show and wanted to know what I thought of her outfit.
She is darling.
But now I kinda hate her because IT WAS THE BIRTHDAY SHOW and she got a bunch of rad stuff.
What? She didn’t take me with her? Bitter.
Also, remember when I was 19 and thought I was fat?
I want to slap Younger Self.
I thought we had paid our sick dues between Thanksgiving and Christmas.
This poor kid had a fever of 103 all day yesterday. And a double ear infection.
When she gets sick, she gets siiiiiiicccck.
Monsters, Inc. with our Boo doll was in order. In the cozy corner spot.
With a gigantically hideous Hello Kitty blanket covering my couch because she has a tendency to lean over and wipe her nose off. Not on my couch kid. I don’t care if you’re sick.
Really Owen? REALLY?
Stop it. NOW.
Although that little bent toe is just too much cuteness.
But really, knock it off.
And hey…is that Moon Dough on the floor? Why yes, yes it is. Like 20 feet from where they were playing with it.
I was feeling really sorry for myself earlier this week (long story…like a blog post…).
I needed some retail therapy and started perusing Amazon.
So I bought myself this stuff.
I don’t have bad skin, but remember how I want to slap Younger Self?
Yeah. For lots of reasons.
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