blankie.

Like peanut butter & jelly.

Like peas & carrots.

Like a M's game & garlic fries.

My kids love their blankies.

But really they don't have a choice.

It's an arranged marriage.

I like a babe with a nigh-night.

What can I say?

got his hair did.

It was time for my little scrapnoodle to finally get a trim.

I am not a person that minds the baby mullet, I kind of see it as a rite of 'toddlerhood',  but I am surrounded by people who do seem to mind.

I am also surrounded by people with big mouths.

As my mom so subtly pointed out, 

"He's starting to look like that stupid Ryder Hudson.  Is that the look you're going for?  One of those long haired druggie Hollywood kids?"

She rarely beats around the bush.  

So I took him...and it broke my heart a little to realize he's growing up...and the gal cutting his hair told me it was okay to cry, a lot of parents do.

I was completely and utterly offended.  

She was putting me in the same category as the 'insane crying over a haircut parents'.

She's got a lot of nerve, and needs to work on her assessment skills...and maybe I should have put my camera down and borrowed a kleenex from her because I did almost cry over what a dork he looked like after his haircut.

Lloyd Christmas came to mind.

(hippie, tox screen positive, Carsie--pre cut).

(stoogie, straight across bangs, Carsie--post cut)

Here's a pic of the beans at lunch. 

They were hungry. 

I am talking Lord of the Flies type hunger. 

Nothing a little McDonald's can't cure.

Oh, and I asked for extra pink slime so Hadley had something to dip her nuggets in.

Then we went for a little train ride...

...and a very perturbed Lloyd came along...

...and gave us his best Stevie Wonder impersonation.

my little pony.

It only took five years & 21 days.

And a few bobby pins.

birthday boy.

His Mama didn't miss a beat.

But no one is surprised.

Decorations were perfect.

Sunny weather was perfect.

Photo Booth was perfect.

The company was perfect.

Luke was perfect.

And too many Skip & Go's made me less than perfect.

Happy Birthday Luke-a-saurus Rex.

We sure think you're grand.

(Way grander than Hadley thinks it is to have cake smashed in her face).

they say it takes a village.

 

And our village is something pretty special.

I grew up with 22 cousins.

I love cousins.

Not necessarily ALL of mine.

But Hads & Carsie sure love ALL of theirs.

It's like a best friend and sibling in one...and then they go home...without your toys.

What's not to love?

teenage angst.

I walked into her room, her Bieber music was blastin', she's sitting in her chair looking at her American Girl catalog, legs crossed, full of attitude...and she looks up at me and says:

"Dude, me and my kid need some privacy.  And you didn't knock.  We just need some alone time from annoying people like you and Carson."

Instead of smacking her smart little mouth, her AG doll was taken away, her music was turned off, and her catalog was thrown in the recycle.
And then I picked my jaw up off the floor, and told her to never call me 'dude' again.  Ever.

Thirteen is going to be ugly.  And I am not prepared.  But I will make fun of her acne if need be, it may be my only defense.

jumping beans.

Carson's crib.

Our 'in home' Jump Planet.

four westies & a kelli.

You know how some people in your life are just good people.

I mean really, really, really, really, really good people.

The kind of people that would watch your kids at the drop of a hat.

The kind of people that would loan you $20 bucks and never remind you to pay them back.

The kind of people that you don't ever need to give an excuse to because you know they would never be mad at you.

The kind of people that love your dog more than you do.

The kind of people that make you spit out your coffee laughing from a mere text.

The kind of people that tease and torment your children.

The kind of people that always have cold beer in their fridge.

The kind of people that don't like you to be on time.

The kind of people that feed your kids out of their yard waste trash can.

The kind of people that steal your camera and take pics of themselves...and their privates.

The kind of people that let you sit on their nice couch...with your cold beer...and don't care if you spill...on their nice couch...that took them 6 years and 3 months to get.

For us, these are some of those people.

And we're pretty darn smitten with them.

you're on your own.

I got a touch of that stomach bug that's been going around.

And it sucked.

But I found the world's greatest baby sitter.

The kids thought she/he sucked.

Even Steven.

the bottsie.

I am not ready for him to done with it.

He is not ready for him to be done with it.

And I have two short months to perfect my lie and my game face for our next doc's appointment.

I will be wearing something that zips high up my neck so they can't see my splotches.

Wish me luck.

baby einstein.

Well hello there right brain.

Well hello there left brain.

Looks like the two may have finally bumped into each other.

There just might be a corpus callosum in there after all.