Broccoli Butt & Advent
Broccoli Butt Every time I pick Beckett up from the nursery at church, I overhear the ladies saying to other moms, “She ate some of the sauteed carrots and most of the kale.” or “He ate all of the zucchini and quinoa!” as I grab my son and his diaper bag that never contain the words “kale” or “zucchini”. His snacks are usually made by a friend of mine, General Mills. I was feeling some peer pressure, so last week I sent that dude with some steamed broccoli and cantaloupe. Talk about mom of the year, y’all. That is nutritious as it gets. The only problem is steamed broccoli smells…
Drugs, Poverty, and Thankfulness
On Thanksgiving morning, my inlaws, Taylor, Beckett, and I all headed downtown to help out with a community outreach event put on by a local ministry. There was an abundance of food, clothing, haircuts, and nail painting. It was a day to give to the community – specifically the lower income and homeless families in the area. My favorite part of the day? The people putting on this shindig. They were men and women from Outcry in the Barrio, a recovery ministry and program for drug and alcohol addicts. Recovering drug addicts serving homeless families. Helping them pick out shoes. Helping them find the right size shirt for their daughters.…
Those Chinese Racists.
In the weeks following the birth of our offspring, Taylor had some highly entertaining conversations in his sleep. (Refer to posts here and here for proof.) Unfortunately for me, he’s been getting adequate sleep for a while now and hasn’t graced me with his sleep conversations in a while…until last night. It was as if he’d been storing up an entire sleep scenario for a special occasion (last night). It played out like this: (It’s 8:42pm and Taylor has fallen asleep mid-conversation, ceiling light still on.) Taylor: (sits straight up from dead sleep) What?? I’m not waiting. Sarah: Huh? Waiting for what? Taylor: For the light to turn off. (Points…
The Peanut Gallery
I don’t want to oversell it, but I’m pretty sure I found a way to survive toddlerhood that doesn’t involve momtinis at 10am. For those of you precious souls who have conveniently forgotten what it’s like in the trenches and are saying to yourself (or planning to comment on here), “Treasure every moment.” or “They’re just developing their little personalities!”…let’s take a trip down memory lane to some moments that exhausted toddler moms have a hard time treasuring. Noodle Limbs. Do you know the 2 most humiliating places to be?1. Holding a leash with a pooping dog attached.2. Holding the hand of toddler in public whose limbs have mysteriously* all…
Mom Fail Confessions & a Shootout
I don’t want to say it’s been a super hard day, but I did just have to send a text that said something like, “Hey – just got your voicemail and I’m sorry but this isn’t Bonnie from Granbury from Match.com. I hope you find love her.” I have no idea how old the guy is or what he looks like, but I do have his name and number. Any single ladies want to give him a hollerrrr? Mom Fail: Slide Edition Last week I got into a less than ideal situation where Beckett climbed to the highest part of the playground, a section I didn’t think he could actually…
Playground Survival & Dinosaur Patchin’
Meanwhile, back in Toddlerland… A hairbrush and a contact case took a swimsy in the toilet. Dirt was consumed from the bottom of shoes. Fall decor was enhanced. Playground Survival I’ve been excited for B to walk so we could do outdoor activities. It gets a little cabin feverish up in here. Now that he’s been walking for 3ish months, he’s getting around pretty well and loves to climb, so recently it was time to introduce the playground. Yay! Wahoo!! So fun!!! Oh, except no one informed me that playgrounds were death traps that teach survival of the fittest from an early age, so our first 3 attempts were…
Beach Vacation: 2 Parts Fantastic, 7 Parts Terrible
Why, yes, I do have a glow about me, don’t I? Thanks for noticing. No, this is not a pregnancy announcement. We just came back from a week and a half at the beach. The end of September/beginning of October is a perfect time to finally get a summer tan, amiright? We’ve had a Sparks family beach vacation on the books for a while now. I’d like to report that it was a relaxing, carefree time full of laughter and shrimp. But unfortunately enough, it just wasn’t that kind of get away. It was this kind: Saturday: Arrive in Cape Sans Blas, Florida, no thanks to Apple maps. Run around…
Alpacas & Swiffer
Did you read about Mercy Project last week? Go read it, if you haven’t. Important stuff, y’all. Alpacas Have you ever seen someone and thought, “You’re the kind of person who would kidnap me and wear my skin?” Our shuttle driver yesterday was that man and I was 99.9% sure he was going to kill me and dump Beckett. [Related: I may watch too many crime shows.] We met some friends at a big festival here and got to meet an alpaca named Benny. All in a Thursday’s work, y’all. (The festival is huge so parking is 1 mile away, hence the shuttle driver who makes and wears skin suits.…
A Girl and her Prince
It’s funny how some things in life are universal. Each culture, gender, religion, race…some things just work everywhere. Smiles. Weddings. Love. Laughter. Babies. Nature. Chocolate. Everyone loves those things. I think fairy tales are pretty universal, too. One dashing young hero + one maiden in distress + one incredible rescue = true love. Who doesn’t love a story like that? I realized the power of fairy tales about 5 years ago during my summer at an orphanage in Ghana, West Africa. Part of my time there was spent tutoring children who had fallen behind in school or were new to the orphanage and had never been in school before, like…
Cabbage, Creeper Bathrooms, & Surprising Nerds
Cabbage It was a little hard to pay attention during library story time today, because I was a little afraid that the fresh produce I stuck in my bra was sticking out of my shirt. That’d be an awkward explanation to have with the person sitting next to me – the person who happened to be my male next door neighbor. I’ve been weaning Beckett over the past few weeks, now that he is at the magical age where he can drink cow’s milk. Let the record show that he was exclusively breastfed (no formula or milk) for the first year of his life. Where do I pick up my…
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