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Sometimes, when I look at her sleeping, I can still see that newborn baby. The one that looked nothing like me, and everything like her daddy. She’s grown up a lot, but she’s still Ava. Still spunky, still full of personality. Still snuggly. We have our moments of conflict (often), but I still think she is absolutely the best girl in the world. I love watching her learn, seeing how her little mind works, and watching her grow up more and more every day.
While I certainly don’t want her growing up too fast, I do look forward to her adult years, and hope that she will see me not just as her mother, but as a confidante, and a friend. I think that’s the thing about daughters – another girl will come along and take your boys’ hearts, but there isn’t much that can come between a girl and her mother.
So, to my daughter, I say this:
Ava, if you ever remember anything about your childhood, remember this: your Daddy and I are so in love with you, we could never put our feelings into actual words. You brighten our days, you make us laugh, and you make us proud (even though you hate it when we tell you that). You have amazed us with your love for your brother, and your kindness to him (most of the time). You are such a loving, sensitive soul, and our lives are better because of you.
Happy birthday, sweet girl.
The other night, we actually had the rare opportunity to eat dinner as a family. The kids had just returned from their weekend with my parents, and we were enjoying a little time together. Corn, which is the kids’ summer favorite, was on the menu.
Sadly, there was only enough corn for everyone to have one ear. Ava complimented the corn, and I said something like, “Savor that ear, because it’s all we have tonight.”
Her reply?
“No more corn?? DAMMON!”
Dammon? Hmmm. That sounds suspiciously like “damn it.” No idea where she could have heard such a thing. Certainly not from her mother.
I asked her to repeat herself. Again, she said, “Dammon!”
Well, that did it. Between the mispronunciation of her new cuss word and the fact that she was saying it, I lost it. I could not stifle my laughter. It was terrible. Morgan, being the more mature parent, calmly mentioned that that’s a word that isn’t nice to say, and only adults can say it. And then he moved on.
As for me? I was unable to speak or make eye contact with anyone at dinner, lest I start laughing uncontrollably. Again.
I know that all kids have to lose their cussing virginity. I’m pretty sure that when I was around Ava’s age, I let my own version of “dammon” slip while playing a game on the Intellivision. (Remember how cool Intellivision was? Gotta love being a child of the 80s).
Frankly, though, I thought I would be able to be a little more parent-like when it happened to us. No such luck.
Oh well. So far, that’s the only time we’ve heard it. The rest of the week she’s been back to her usual “poopie head.” Hmmm. Maybe I like “dammon” better.
Carter

I think that title is the name of an OPI nail polish color. Why is it that I can probably name at least ten nail polish colors, but would be at a loss to list all of the world’s major bodies of water? (Those always stump me on Jeopardy).
My birthday came and went yesterday, and it was a really fun day. I didn’t do anything extraordinary, but I just enjoyed myself and felt really happy all day long. As I think I mentioned last week, this birthday was number 35 for me. I’ll be honest….it’s the first birthday I haven’t really been excited about. I feel like at thirty-five, I’m supposed to have my act totally together, my life 100% on track, and just be a bona fide adult.
Truth be told, that’s not me at all most days. Maybe I pull off the illusion once in a while, but half the time I still question my own decisions, wonder if I’m disciplining my kids correctly, struggle with making adult choices, and often run to my parents for support. I just don’t really FEEL thirty-five. Or, as I told my sister, I don’t feel like I expected to feel at thirty-five. At least not if you’d asked me a decade ago.
It’s funny, when we have babysitters, I sort of have this whole imaginary thing going on in my head where the babysitters can SO relate to me because we’re SO close in age. In reality, I’m pretty sure they see me the same way I used to see the moms whose kids I would watch. They were nice, and maybe hip thirtysomethings, but they were definitely WAY older than me. So we both watch Real Housewives of New Jersey? That just gives us something in common. It doesn’t make us peers.
And that’s okay.
And you know what else?
I got carded last week.
So take that, mid-thirties.
Happy Monday! My weekend of peace and quiet came to an end yesterday at lunchtime, but it sure was nice while it lasted. Morgan had a golf trip (shocker), and I planned a few weeks ago to ship the kids off to my parents’ house for the weekend. Luckily, my parents are nice enough to actually accept my begging request to keep them. I’m not sure they really knew what they were in for with a 2-year-old boy, but they survived.
I, on the other hand, really enjoyed having my house all to myself. I almost didn’t want to do anything but stay in my little cocoon all weekend. That didn’t happen, though. On Friday, I hit the Tanger Outlets in Mebane, NC for a little light shopping. You can imagine my delight when I discovered a Vineyard Vines outlet had just opened!

I got a great deal on a couple of things for Davis: a bathing suit for next year and a pair of tan cords for winter. Both more than 50% off.
At Brooks Brothers, I scored a bathing suit for Morgan for $32. That, my friends, is a bargain, especially when you consider the retail price on those things is $85.
So, the boys scored well, but Ava and I got nothing. At least not that day.
Saturday was supposed to start with a run, but it was storming when I got up, so I scrapped that idea and enjoyed an episode of Design Star with my cup of coffee.
There was maybe a little more shopping that day. Old Navy had their kids’ jeans for $10 (and tax-free), so I got one pair for Ava.

Everything else there was meh. I’m just not ready for Ava to look like a miniature Ke$ha.
And lest you think I left myself out of this shopping extravaganza, I finally got myself a cute tennis outfit.
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Saturday also included a Peach Milkshake at Chick Fil A. Yum.
The weekend went by way too fast, that’s for sure. I didn’t tackle any of the projects around the house that needed to get done, but that’s okay. I was kind of on a little vacation. If I could do that about once a month, I think my sanity level would be much better.
This week we’re right back into busy life. I started my Monday with a 6am workout at Heat, and it was a killer. I’m fairly certain the instructor was attempting to kill us all. Fortunately for him, he’s pretty cute, so he can get away with torture.
Later in the week, we’ve got my birthday AND Ava’s birthday, which also includes a party at our house. I’m scrambling this week to get prepared for that. It’s a Madeline party, and I’ll share all the details with you next week.
Ava is in American Girl doll camp every morning this week (yes, there really is such a thing), so I’ve got my trusty sidekick, Davis, to help me with all my party-prep errands. Today we went to Michael’s. We’re probably not welcome back. Ever. I’m thinking of getting a sitter for him for a couple of hours tomorrow so I can run the rest of my errands in peace.
For now, I’m happy. I have dinner prepped and ready to go in the oven (vegetarian baked ziti), and a loaf of banana blueberry bread baking as I type. The kitchen smells good!
I hear the sounds of creaking crib, letting me know Davis is waking up. I promised Ava a trip to the library, so off we go.
xoxo,
Carter
I recently saw that author Emily Giffin (of Something Borrowed fame) is selling her Atlanta home. If I had $2.2 million and was moving to Atlanta, I would buy it. It’s pretty much my dream house.
Prepare to drool:
(all images from Wall Street Journal website)
Exterior. Hi, pretty house.
Living room: chic, yet cozy. And not too formal.
Kitchen. Perfection. What kind of wood is that table? I likey.
Family room. Love the doors heading to the porch. Bringing the outdoors in.
Another view of the family room. I am in love with the ceiling and the arcitechtural details of the room. All those arches.
Master bedroom, filled with light from that huge window.
Ava would adore this room. I particularly like the chandelier.
Emily apparently has twin boys, and this is their room. I can’t ever get enough stripes, and I really like the single initial pillows.
The hardscape yard. Probably the one drawback, at least from a family perspective. It doesn’t change the fact that it’s gorgeous. Oh, and how about that sweet little guest house?
Another view. Isn’t the house a cool shape?
So, I am sufficiently green with envy, and you probably are, too. I know I just feel good knowing that by purchasing some of Emily’s novels, I have contributed to the loveliness that is this home.
Hmph.