**Warning, those of you that did not appreciate my poop post last week, may not enjoy this one either. Sorry for the graphic footage. My past week has truly illustrated the less glamorous side of motherhood. **
Our trip to Steelers training camp last week was one of the most eventful family car trips we’ve had in a long while. It was supposed to take 4 hrs to get to Latrobe, instead 6 hrs after we left we finally pulled into our camping space.
My 2 year old has recently taken quite an interest in my old cabbage patch dolls. I gotta say it warms my heart to see her carrying around my old dolls, tucking them in with their blankets, putting a pillow under their heads. It’s quite cute to watch.
The other day when she handed “baby doll” to me because she was “sick” I took a good look at my old doll.
Some may call it a sickness.
Others may think of me more as a loyalist.
It all stems back to an experience I had as a middle schooler.
Who knew that a trip to the grocery store could have such a lasting impact on a girl?
I was shopping with my mom one day when I was an early teen and they were conducting a blind taste test for Coke and Pepsi.
I was not an athlete growing up. I quit softball half way through my first season when I was 8 telling my dad, “I hate it. You get all sweaty and dirty and stuff!” (The fact that I had gotten hit in the face twice with a softball didn’t help either).
In eighth grade I found myself at a new school and decided to play lacrosse. My friends were all playing and it seemed like fun.
Since the day he was born, people have been telling me that my son looks like his Daddy. He’s been referred to as Scott 2.0 and Mini-Me. I don’t argue that there is no debating who his Daddy is, but I will say that he’s got my eyes.
Make that eye.
For photography.
Check out these pictures I took of my parents when I was in elementary school.
This week I celebrated my birthday. As I mentioned yesterday, I love birthdays. Even though I am a "grown up" now and I am not supposed to care about my birthday, I do. A lot. I don’t just look forward to it. I count down the weeks and days until it arrives. When I was a kid I used to have my parents wake me up to say Happy Birthday at the exact minute I was born.
Time for another Sincerley Fro' Me To You Post. Since my baby turns one this month, I thought I’d share a pregnancy anecdote with you.
In January of last year my good friend told me she was pregnant with her third child. Her oldest son is 10 months younger than my son, and the two of them are good buddies. Her second son is 4 months younger than my middle child.
It’s Thursday again, which means I am once again using pictures from my past as blodding fodder for today.
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Here is a picture of my hubby and I in the spring of 1997 at an All Night Bowling event for my youth group. Please take note of the shirt I am wearing.
Two and a half years later here we are in October of 1999 at a College Football game.
Its Thursday again and time for me to go into that box in the closet under the stairs and find another picture that didn’t make it into a photo album. I found a classic that is truly timely. This is a picture of me opening gifts on my 13th birthday (I think, might be 12). Can’t tell what I am unwrapping, but my brother behind me is definitely interested. Like my dangling shell earrings?
My Sincerely Fro Me to You post this week doesn’t go back quite as far as my others… it’s actually not even a month old. We went on multi family camping trip. There were 8 kids 4 and under between the 3 families. Friday night we had a blast. The kids enjoyed playing with tent poles in the dirt while we set up camp. Then they went looking for sticks to roast their marshmallows.