There’s still sand on our street from last weekend’s snow, but today is all sunshine and warm breezes. We had a solid week of constant rain which turned into a heavy, wet snow, followed by a week of temperatures barely above freezing, followed by another messy snow. And now? Now THIS? I know this is
David spent all morning couponing. We apply all the money saved using the coupons he clips to the back rent he owes us; the late fees are adding up fast. If you didn’t get a chance to count, there were four photos of footballs and one photo of a meatball sandwich in this week’s coupon
This is the difference between a baby and a toddler. When you have a baby, and the baby falls a few inches off the couch, you have a panic attack, call your husband in tears, and write a blog about it. When you have a toddler and the toddler smacks his head into a cinder
Since oh, I don’t know, the day I started feeding David solids, he’s refused to eat off a spoon. At first he’d grab the spoon and guide it to his mouth. Then he just all-out refused to eat off a spoon. He wouldn’t eat anything off a spoon; yogurt, cereal, not even ice cream. That’s
Here’s to a Christmas full of gifts, time with family, photo ops… …and lots and lots and lots of balls.
December has been hard on David. Balls, by far, are his favorite toy, and all December he’s been told that he can’t touch the balls that are glittery, shiny, lit up, made of glass and hung on trees at his eye level. He’s broken two ornaments so far. Neither of them were ours because David
When David woke up from his nap yesterday, my kitchen looked like this. He was understandably elated. You’re probably assuming he woke up early and caught me in the middle of a Halloween craft, but I actually planned this. I love, love, love roasted pumpkin seeds. Usually I just buy a couple of pie pumpkins
My mom’s grandmother lived on a farm, like lots of people did back in those days. So she, my great-grandmother, had to go out and milk the cows every morning. My mom once told me that while my great-grandmother was out milking the cows, she’d give her babies a box of pictures to look through.
David has cried whenever I cook anything since the day he was born. He did it as a newborn, a sitter, a dragger, a crawler, and now that he’s walking he has so much more leverage. Once he pulled my pajama pants down in a fit of rage when I was making his breakfast. A
David just turned fifteen months old and, I don’t know, this one might not make it into the baby book. This month we’ve coined the nickname Grumpelstiltskin because it’s cuter than any other expletive that comes to mind when he’s scratching his eyes out because we’re changing his diaper. I’m blaming all this moodiness on