Growing Up Carter

I love the way you say good morning.

Would you look at that. C.P. is almost eleven weeks…which is just a smidge away from three months. He’s “talking” and smiling and trying very hard to roll over these days (but hasn’t done it quite yet without my help). He’s bright-eyed and curious and edible.

Long weekends are my savior. This one has been no exception. Friday night stuffed bell peppers with friends (remind me to get that recipe!), Saturday spent across town celebrating the best baby in the land, and Sunday catching up on housework and eating a hearty family dinner. Does anyone make spaghetti sauce like your mom? No? Didn’t think so. All this, and I still have a Monday to play Bohnanza, bake, grade essays, and pal around with my brother-in-law.

Carter’s Celebration was out in Mesa yesterday, and it was a fantastic family get together. Carter wore a brand new striped button-up and baby-khakis with mini loafers, all of which were still too large for him, but man did he look studly. Even though it rained, the men were out under umbrellas grilling — now THAT I should’ve gotten a picture of. The food was scrumptious. Of course, any time Grandma Shirley is bringing a dish, I’ll be the first to the food. I don’t even like potato salad, and I think I could’ve eaten the whole bowl. It was that good. Then the shrimp, the bruschetta, the umbrella-burgers, chocolate covered strawberries and rattle and bottle-shaped cookies…Yum.

Four Generations

Carter is one loved little boy. Everyone took turns holding him, and he was his usual easy-going, lovey self. His cousins Miley and Devon were there, and Miley helped him open his presents (she’s getting in gear for her own Princess-themed three-year old party in two weeks). Carter is so lucky, and I am so lucky, too. I couldn’t dream of marrying into a more caring and sweet family.

Proud Parents

Megan, Miley, Mom and Michelle (and Taylor, but he just didn’t go with the M-flow) are headed out tomorrow to Disneyland. I wish I could watch Miley spin around on the teacups for the first time, but there’s no way I could take more time off of work. I cringe whenever I look at my pay stubs. Balance for personal days left: 1.5 days. Sometimes I wish I was in Canada or the UK…or basically anywhere else. Paid maternity leave for a year? Yes, please.

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