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The One Thing Project – Decorating The Mantle

Have I talked here about how I don’t decorate? I go to the store and pass vases and baskets and knicknacks, and it’s like I have my Usless Junk Goggles on. Then I come home to a completely bare staircase wall, despite having lived in this house for years. I just can’t look at something that I can’t do anything with except park it on a shelf, and say, yes I’m going to take this home and park it on my shelf.

That’s not to say I can’t decorate, because I do have good taste. It just seems pointless.

However, our dear old friend Mom Guilt creeps in, telling me that I should be giving my house some sort of rhythm with the seasons. Because my kids won’t remember that everything they eat is from scratch, or that they have clean clothes to wear every day.

The baby won’t remember that time he licked the toilet seat and didn’t even get sick because it was clean.

You’re welcome, kid.

Kids don’t notice the tough, the endless, the mundane…nope. Mom Guilt told me that kids would remember the fun mom stuff, like the little art projects and seasonal junk up on the walls.

My formulaic brain doesn’t allow for decorating an entire house. There’s just too much canvas, too many silly little knicknacks from which to choose.

But a mantle, I can handle.

The One Mantle Project. Some tacky fake flowers and a too-short garland. Now don’t ask me to decorate anything else.

A photo posted by Courtney (@projectcourtney) on



I’ve resolved to decorate the mantle for every season. Look how fun I am! Hey, adult kids, remember the fake leaves? Wasn’t that great?

Who knows, they may appreciate my stepping outside my utilitarian style of homemaking, or they won’t notice at all. But at least it’s making me feel like I tried.

PS: Mom Guilt visits everyone, doesn’t she? Nobody is spared!


Why I Want My Kids to See Me Drink

Remember me telling how a handful of family members have a really crappy attitude toward food?

That’s nothing, NUH-THING, compared to the family’s attitude toward alcohol.

There are the few who demonize alcohol like it’s The Prohibition. One abstainer lived with at least two heavy drinkers at two separate times, so I can understand the knee-jerk reaction that something bad is going to happen when the bottle comes out.

The other staunch abstainer has decided she can’t control herself around alcohol, so she shuns it entirely. She has a hard time distinguishing between the family getting together with a glass of wine and a board game, and a frat party with paid entertainers – it all goes in the same alcohol-is-scary-and-bad bucket. Additionally, she has a tendency toward projection, so she has decided that nobody else in the universe can control themselves around alcohol.

On the flipside, there are others who will guzzle ’till the sun comes up.


See what happens when you don’t have to commit to a whole case of the same thing? #paisstupid

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IMUO (U=unsolicited or unwelcome, take your pick), both are dangerous and potentially destructive attitudes toward alcoholic beverages.

We like our wine. We enjoy it so much that sometimes we make it. We (well, I, since the gluten discovery) like our pumpkin ale in the fall. And a margarita made with fresh lime juice – not that bottled stuff – makes me feel cool as a cucumber in July, even though our 100-year-old house doesn’t have central air.

I like a good beer and a nice glass of wine for the same reason that I prefer coffee made with beans ground a minute before brewing, for the same reason that I don’t get my dinner through a window or at the gas station. 

Because food and drink is meant to be enjoyed, and slow food and drink are better than rushed – both in preparation and in consumption.

Now, let me explain what drinking looks like in my house. If my kids are up past their bedtime, they may see me pour myself an oatmeal stout – one oatmeal stout (and they’re so thick that I’m usually unable to finish one). Or, they’ll see me get out the crystal to have a properly poured (just to the widest point in the bowl) glass of Chianti. They’ll see a responsible adult enjoying the taste and the craftsmanship that went into it. Basically enjoying everything except the psychoactive effect.

It’s a slow, intentional and sensory consumption, and you simply cannot be irresponsible if you’re after the entire experience. The same cannot be said if they see me put down a cheap case of Nasty Lite as quickly as I can (purely hypothetical – 2-3 drinks was my max during my college peak, and that would wreck me today.)

I see it as similar to my approach to food. If they see me with a face full of cheeseburger I got from a window, that sends the message that we don’t care about where our food comes from, what it does to our bodies, what production does to the world around it, and we don’t care whether we enjoy the meal. You can’t eat intentionally from a window. There are satisfying cheeseburger experiences, but you won’t find one in a car.

Instead of accompanying me through the drive-thru, my kids see me pick up my box of veggies at the CSA. They see me swapping recipes with my farmers and making my own sauerkraut. They see me turn my nose up at the grocery store plastic bakery containers, because the contents are usually too cardboardy for my liking.

They see me reading craft beer labels for things like “brewed with lemongrass and coriander,” rather than percent alcohol by volume. They see me carefully selecting a Shiraz because it will bring out the hidden flavors of the rosemary lamb in the oven.

My kids need to understand what the things you eat and drink are for.

If we decide that alcohol is dangerous and declare our home dry, my kids’ first exposure to alcohol will be…jeez, who knows…a friend’s house? A frat house? Wherever that first introduction happens – whether just witnessing or partaking – they will see alcohol being used irresponsibly, and that will become the reference point. Furthermore, a teen or two (or every single one) has been known to rebel. If alcohol isn’t some foreign thing and they know how to use it appropriately, I suppose that’s one less thing we have to worry about.

As with anything, I could be wrong about this. But in general, extremes are tough to justify.



Socks. Not happy about it.

I wear my flip flops until my toes turn blue.

I was okay when I turned on the furnace. I was okay when I zipped up my hoodie. I was okay when I reached for that second blanket last night.

But I busted out the socks today, and now it feels like it’s all over.


I socked them. Until we meet again, flip flops… :(

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This summer has been mind-blowing. Bluegrass festivals. Outdoor weddings. Fairs. Soccer league. Soccer camps. Hanging out by the lake. Playground whenever we feel like it. Swimming. Tent camping and s’mores. RV not-really-camping and s’mores. Talking veggies and babies with our CSA farmers at market. (And tastiest tomatoes I’ve seen in a decade.) Birthday parties with nothing but a grill and open air. Outside outside outside outside, play play play play…

And now I have socks on. Another few weeks and we’ll have a permanent two feet of snow on the ground. Another five months, shut in.

And we shall not turn to alcohol to solve our problems, but this takes the sting out.


No seriously, how early is too early? #pumpkinbeer

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Not because it’s beer. Because it’s PUMPKIN. By sheer grace, made into beer.

This early morning love explosion helped too…


Morning walk, every day since Friday. #camping #fall

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And landscapes like this freeze time…


Sick of my #fall pictures yet?

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Every-ting gonna be all-rieet [text-based Bob Marley impression]. Because it WILL be okay, and because nobody’s toes are cold while playing reggae.



The Day I Became THAT Parent

I never thought I would be that parent.

I said out loud, just weeks earlier, “I’m not that parent.”

Then I find myself on the phone, speaking as that parent.

Wah wah, my kid isn’t getting enough play time on the field. 

I had to psych myself up to make the call. I hated every minute of the conversation. I was so nervous and uncomfortable, even though it was a good friend on the other end.  I have no clue if I even got across what I wanted to the way I wanted to. I don’t do conflict.

Let’s talk about how I got there.

Hoss started soccer at 4. Now, as we all know, four-year-old soccer would be more aptly named “magnet ball.” All the kids run after the ball, kick it, kick each other, pick noses, pick clovers in the field, and in the end, if they get it closer toward the correct goal, it’s been a good day. But he understood the game almost immediately.

The next season, we notice that he inherited his dad’s speed and agility, and was one of the better players. Mister coached that season, and they both had the time of their lives.

This summer, soccer was all he wanted to do. He spent hours in the backyard just kicking from different angles, practicing control with just one foot, then just the other. Dribbling inside the house, promising, “I won’t kick it again. Just dribbling this time. Please?”

As ridiculous as it sounds, we spent a couple hundred dollars in soccer camps this summer. Yes, for a five-year-old. Why? Because he was having fun. Because we were all having fun. Because it wasn’t enough for him that he could just kick in the general direction of the goal. He wanted to do all he could to put that ball exactly where he wanted it. He was just as eager to be out playing as he was about learning the why behind all of the drills and skills.

Soccer camps ended, and the summer was coming to a close. He asked how many “sleeps” until soccer started again, and 270-ish was simply too many for him. And admittedly, for us. To see that kind of passion kindled in your child…it’s indescribable and we wanted to give him more.

So we found a fall league. A bit of a drive for us, considering we have to pile 3 small kids (including a car screamer, that’s fun) into a car and it throws us off of dinner, bath and bed schedule. A bit of an inconvenience because the last few games would probably be spent keeping the younger sibs warm and entertained on the sidelines as the fall chill set in. A bit of a hassle that Mister has to leave work early and make up for the lost time at night.

But we decided it was worth it to put him in his happy place.

After his first game, it was evident that spending an entire summer with a soccer ball underfoot had paid off. He had proved himself as a pretty solid player.

Over the next few games, we noticed a change. A once assertive player started hanging back from the pack. He began passing as if the ball were on fire. He spent less and less time on offense, where the action is.

He was doing what he was told. What the coach may or may not realize is that the kid is like a computer. You give input, and that’s the output you’re going to get. If you told him to march in figure 8s during a game, you’re going to get figure 8s until you turn him “off.”

Mister was missing work to watch him actively avoid the ball. The grandparents had driven 2 hours to see him just stand there for all but 1-2 minutes. Especially since Mister grew up playing competitive sports and sees value in rewarding hard work, we came to a point where we had to bring it up.

Now, I knew going in that this league was intramural, non-competitive and all about fun. The philosophy is that everyone gets a chance, and we don’t care about winning. I get that, and I fully support it.

But for a league so committed to not focusing on winning and losing, they seemed awfully obsessed with points. That is, when the points got too high.

It started to seem as if, in an effort to be fair, he was being treated unfairly. He was being given less time on offense than the others, because he could get a few goals in, in just a short time. And he was being told to hang back or pass, which was confusing him. I as a parent am not there to see him rack up points or be a star. I want to see him do his best, learn things and improve through playing.

I noticed his fire for soccer was a little less bright after a while. He will happily do what he’s supposed to and he won’t complain. But he’s stopped asking if it’s soccer day before his eyes even open in the morning. He’s stopped wearing his uniform all day on game days. I suspect it’s because he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to be doing.

If the goal is to give everyone a chance, should the better kids just swat gnats in the field? In my mind, it’s not about the number of goals and it’s not about who comes out the winner. It’s the time spent running, calculating, still learning how to feel and maneuver the ball. If players are cycled evenly through the positions and encouraged to play the game the proper way to the best of their ability, could anyone feel slighted?

I kind of wish the league didn’t keep score at all. That way, a ball in the net wouldn’t bother anybody.





Hey Courtney, where ya been? Back with an announcement!

I know, I haven’t posted in FOREVER. Just when I started to get some regular (awesome) readers, I abandon you.

Sorry about that.

But but but! I have a good excuse. Really, I do. You see, there was that heartbleed bug, so I made a new password like a good girl. Then I promptly forgot it.

I then tried to get back in, but the lost password steps didn’t work. So I had to learn how to play around with the database and whatnot and oh, that was fun.

As if that wasn’t enough…

I kind of started a business. 

Because that’s what one does when one’s children are 5, 2 and under 1 and when you’re starting to get serious about homeschooling.

Sometime in between all of this I must have been hit in the head, but of course I don’t remember that.

Hoo boy. It’s been a ride. I had this idea so I threw up a website in May. I had done NO OTHER MARKETING, and this guy notices the site and mentions it on Product Hunt. Then after that, a Product Hunt user who happened to be a writer for TechCrunch sends me some questions. I answer them, and BOOM. There’s a feature of my company on TechCrunch the very next day.

Well, as soon as the TechCrunch feature hits, my phone starts ringy dinging with order alerts, one after the other. Peel me off of the floor, right?

I still haven’t officially launched. No announcement, no press release, no ducks, no rows. The train is chugging along whether I’m on it or not! I’m getting a steady stream of orders and I’m not going to lie, it’s awesome.

So…the business…

I was doing some homeschool planning and I realized that every science project I tried to plan was going to send me all over earth gathering supplies – the craft store, the hardware store, the plant nursery. In addition, I was doing a lot of leg work planning the lessons around the projects and designing printable charts and whatnot. It was a lot, so I went to Google to see if I could purchase something that would have it all done for me. I found some little science project kits but nothing that dug deep into a concept like I had in mind.

I thought that other (busy!) parents would want that too. So I put one together, just to see how it looked. Then I planned another theme and put that together. Then the ideas started spewing out of my ears and I soon had a ton of themes all assembled in my mind. So, I decided to follow the subscription box model, which adds the element of surprise to science projects. I know my kids love to get surprise packages in the mail!

Thus, Agent Ribbit was born. Agent Ribbit is a subscription box company for kids. Each monthly shipment includes everything you need for 4 science and creative activities, themed around a science mystery.

July’s box was Epidemiology. As a trained epidemiologist, how could I resist?

Naturally, I’ll be documenting my adventures behind the scenes of a subscription box company. Stay turned for my next posts, which will take you through my company set-up and my first shipment!



Weekend Reads

I read the internets too, you know.


When intelligent and discerning writers put the wisdom out there, I used to just read, file away in my brain, and move on. That’s not fair, now is it? To keep it all to myself like that?



I’m going to share the awesomeness from the week on Fridays, because I’m not selfish anymore. So, here are some of my favorites that came across my screen this week.


What does living comfortably mean to you? The Frugal Girl takes on a family’s claim that $90,000 per year in income isn’t enough.


April 30th is National Spank Out Day. Nina of Sleeping Should Be Easy talks about the effects of spanking and gives some fantastic alternatives to spanking…including examining ourselves.


Gluten-free newbies: Jenny of My Happy Homestead deconstructs food labels so that you don’t have to make the same mistakes we all make while learning where gluten hides. Thanks, Jenny!


I’ll never forget it. About an hour after my first was born, a resident comes in and says to me, “call the nurses if he doesn’t look like himself.” And I thought,am I supposed to know who he is already? Katie of Pick Any Two lists the things that moms are “supposed to know” but she didn’t. And I didn’t. And you probably didn’t. But I won’t tell if you won’t.


Have you ever tried Coco-roons by Wonderfully Raw? They’re little bites of YES…but hard to find here in the wilderness. Luckily, I found a copycat recipe that I’m going to try. I’ll still buy the real thing when I see them because they’re incredible, but I’m hoping these will tide me over in between visits from the Coco-roon fairy.


That ought to hold you for a couple of days. See you Monday!



Life, Automated: No Plan Meal Planning

While I would love to meal-plan, it doesn’t really work with the way I buy my groceries. During the summer months, we get our CSA surprises every week and I buy almost everything I need at the farmer’s market. During winter, I work out of my farmer’s market freezes and fill in the gaps at the grocery store with what looks good.

My food has to be fresh. I don’t want to buy things just because they’re on my list.


It’s hard to do any kind of meal planning this way. Meal planning would look like this: gather what’s fresh for the week, go home and find recipes around the ingredients, then go back to the store and get the additional ingredients from the recipes that I didn’t buy the first time.

It’s just not practical for me to hit the grocery store more than I absolutely have to, especially with the kiddos in tow. Borrow three vervet monkeys and try to keep them from tearing apart the grocery shelves while you try to remember everything…it’s kind of like that.

So, I’ve come up with a way to semi-automate my meals. The idea is, spend a little time getting things ready all at once, so you save a lot of time once it’s time to throw together dinner.

And no need to do all of these! You’d probably end up with way too much food. Just pick a few.

Note: the {time quotes} are active prep times, not actual cook times.

  • {2 minutes} Make ready packs of shredded chicken. Throw a couple pounds of chicken breast with salt, pepper and garlic and a little olive oil into the slow cooker with about two inches of water or broth and let it cook all day. Later on, I make freezer packages of shredded chicken, ready for sandwiches, salads, tacos, wraps…anything. Quart-sized zip-top freezer bags are the perfect meal size for my troop. This also works with pot roast cuts for shredded beef.
  • {10 minutes} Brown a few pounds of ground beef in olive oil with salt, pepper, garlic and onions. Just as with the chicken, you can make freezer packages of your cooked ground beef. Now you have a heat-and-serve base for sloppy joes or tacos, you can add beans and rice for burritos, add lentils and greens, or mix it with your homemade marinara for a heartier sauce.
  • {5 minutes} Roast a whole chicken or turkey. That’s not a typo. I did just quote you 5 minutes of prep to roast a turkey. It doesn’t take as long as you think, and you’re going to get a few meals out of it. Pull the offal out (they’re usually bagged), rinse, and fill the cavity with garlic, onions, orange, lemons and herbs. Sprinkle the skin with olive oil, salt and pepper and a little more herbage and pop it in the oven until a meat thermometer inserted into the thigh reads 165F. You can try my recipe for Upside-down Chicken for a chicken or a turkey. Don’t throw away the bones! Instead, throw the bones into the slow cooker  with a couple of bay leaves and water {30 seconds!} to make a rich stock for your soup, up next.
  • {10-15 minutes} Make a big pot of soup. Double, triple or quaduple your recipe – whatever it takes to fill your biggest stock pot. If you need ideas, I’m partial to my White Bean Soup and Roasted Red Pepper Soup.
  • {5-10 minutes} Wash and chop vegetables. Chop enough for the big salad that’s coming next, plus snacks for the kids, plus to throw into a stir fry and wraps later in the week.
  • {5-10 minutes} Make a huge salad. If you’ve chopped vegetables already, you only need to chop up the greens. I like to line my biggest bowl with paper towels (keeps it fresh) and fill it for the week. Salads are so versatile – they can be served with any meal, or you can stuff them into sandwiches and wraps. It’s nice to have a big salad ready when we’re running to this and that. When we get home, I can just pull out my shredded chicken and my big salad bowl and call it done.

I should say that I don’t do all of the above every week. No need for all of that, unless I really want to stock my freezer.

When do I do my meal prep? When I can. It’s not a weekend project, it’s not part of the grocery ritual. It happens when I can steal a few moments to make my week easier.

What do you do to cut down on meal prep time?




Preparing for a Homeschool Convention

By a swift stroke of the “Register” button, I did one of two things: I either

(A) Signed myself up for a turbo-learning weekend of new and exciting approaches and ideas, or

(B) Set myself up to think I should be doing more, more, SO MUCH MORE.


LEARN NEW THINGS. I need to tattoo that on Mister’s forehead (not my own, because I wouldn’t be able to see it). The purpose of the convention is to learn new things and get ideas. But mark my word – once I meet that double-digit family who are all wearing coordinated knitted sweaters from the hand-spun wool of the sheep they raised themselves for their science and home ec. unit study on sheep, I’m going to feel a little inadequate.

That’s not going to happen. It will be too warm for sweaters.

So, I’m going to my first homeschool convention and admittedly, I started to feel overwhelmed as soon as I opened the features page. How am I supposed to navigate through a few hundred vendors and more than 50 presentations, many happening simultaneously?

I’m a planner. I can’t just wing something like this when missing a lot of it is kind of built-in.

Here’s how I’ll be prioritizing this monster (a friendly monster!) of an event.

Eliminate what you don’t need. 

I don’t have kids in high school yet, so I can cross college talks off of my list for the next few years. I’m not interested in cyber schooling, so I can skip those talks and workshops. Crossing off what doesn’t apply right now takes care of a lot of sessions and even more vendors. The itinerary will look a lot less daunting once you do a first-pass yea or nay.

Research books, programs and curricula. 

Resist the urge to go through the list. Are you really going to comb through 200 or more websites? Likely not.

Instead, work backward. If you’re looking for a pre-packaged curriculum, poke around the internets to find out which options have a good reputation and align with what you want to teach. If you’re piecing together your year, make a list of 3 or more options for each subject you plan to teach, then map out your plan from that list.

Get the dirt on the speakers. 

Know how uncomfortable religion and politics can get sometimes? Well, guess what? You have a lot of both as topics of a homeschool convention, and the speakers were chosen carefully for their audience. Once you’ve narrowed the sessions down to what applies to your children’s educational stage, do a quick search on the speakers. You can get a good idea of the angle they will take by doing a little internet digging beforehand.

Here’s hoping that a little prep work makes my first homeschool conference a little more manageable, dare I say fun!

Now, if I could refrain from comparing myself to the perfect homeschool moms with the 16 kids with the perfect science fair projects who all cheerfully do their chores and then practice their piece for the symphony performance and got into MIT at 16…then I’ll be cool.



Benefits of Meditation – Thoughts After a 30-day Meditation Experiment


I mentioned before that I resisted the idea of meditation. I’m a logical, practical-minded person, so when the new-ageys start talking about projecting energies and connecting with the inner self, I’m gone. Tuned out, be back after these outlandish messages.

However, I started coming across practical, measurable mental and physical health benefits to meditation that extended well beyond improved concentration. When the accounts started to come from actual scientific researchers, my ears perked up. I figured there was no harm in giving it a try.

It went something like this…

Week One. Two minutes. My first time meditating felt like an eternity. Quiet room, oh, hello crazy thought! Where the flarp did you come from, thought? Stop making thoughts, brain. Breathe in, breathe out, repeat…it just wasn’t something I was accustomed to doing. The sitting still part was easy. As a mom of three, I’d say the sitting still part was delightful. But I felt like my brain was chatty and I needed to shut it up – as if I were doing meditation “wrong” because I had this steady stream (firehose?) of thoughts.

Week Two. Five to seven minutes. I felt much more controlled after I had a few sessions under my belt. My brain’s chatter slowed, and thoughts became more like passing acquaintances on the sidewalk. I just gave them a friendly nod and stepped aside, allowing them to stroll past me while I maintained my own course.

Week Three. Ten minutes. Not much change from Week Two, except that I had increased my time. However, this week I felt a bit of a change in my day-to-day. We’ll get to that later.

Week Four. Timer set to 15 minutes, but usually quit around the 12-13 mark. Toward the end of my experimental month, I recognized that there was a brief time when I was able to achieve a deep state in which my brain felt like it was taking a true-blue break. For a few minutes, each time, I was in my little bubble with no thoughts, no stimuli distracting me from the nothingness. It’s a surreal sensation – rather, a non-sensation. You realize just how noisy life is, even during the calm. Do experienced meditators get to spend extended periods of time in “off” mode?

So that’s beginning meditation in action. Now, let’s talk about the tangible benefits of meditation – what’s happening in the gray matter, at least how I perceive it.

The first two weeks, there wasn’t much to report. I think I had to work out the bugs and get some momentum going. But by week three, I noticed some changes in my thinking. For example, I read an entire biography without having to page backward to re-learn names. (I’m awful with names in books.)

Additionally, I felt some changes in my focus. Moms of little kids get distracted, sure. Some days, I feel like I haven’t had a complete thought in 24 hours. Something I struggle with is that sometimes I’m too focused, and I give my full attention to every passing butterfly, which leads to piles of unfinished projects.

During my experiment, I felt more able to return to a task or a thought after the inevitable distractions. Meditating gave me a chance to practice acknowledging distractions, in the form of my own thoughts, and return to the task at hand. There is no perfect, but practice makes better. 

I also noticed a welcome change in my memory. I felt that I was less forgetful in general, but more remarkably, I felt compelled to put some systems in place for everyday tasks, whether with Google calendar or a notepad in the kitchen. It seemed as if my brain was in the process of re-organizing itself. Coincidence?

As much as I would like to comment on the effects of meditation on stress, I can’t really do that. It’s not that I’ve had no stress in the last month. What makes it difficult to assess is that I don’t think I experience stress like most people do. I suppose when you’re 11 years old doing the family’s laundry because your mom just had chemo, you learn what’s worth getting worked up over and what’s not. My stress response is pretty well under control.

Anyway, I’m going to try to continue my experiment and see just how efficient I can make my brain.



Time to Eat! First Foods



Getting ready for another big transition – food!

Frodo will be six months old soon (how?!?), which means we get to play with purees.

Aw, who am I kidding? A few weeks ago, he very clearly communicated that he wanted a bite of my banana. And by clearly communicated, I mean I almost lost a finger.

He’s the third baby so the rules have this flexible quality about them that they didn’t have earlier in my parenting career. And by flexible, I mean I’ve been spoon-feeding him a few times a week for about a month now. Rules, shmules. I think my middle skipped purees altogether and went right to steak. I’m exaggerating, but I do remember she shunned the spoon and wanted to chew pieces of food that she picked up herself.

Forget I snuck him a spoonful here and there. According to AAP guidelines, he’s officially ready for num nums. That’s the technical term. I think it’s in their pamphlet.

We don’t use the baby cereals because of constipation, talk of arsenic content particularly in rice cereal, and cereals are pretty much empty calories. So, first foods around here are bananas. We do that for two weeks or so, then we try avocado, then sweet potato. After that, I have to refer to my handy charts in my go-to homemade baby food books, Super Baby Food (except the tofu – we don’t do soy) and So Easy Baby Food.

I could elaborate on the minutiae of my blender and ice cube trays and whatnot, but I have to cut this short. The little dude has a stuffy nose and I’m letting him sleep on me so he’s somewhat upright. Also, because my screen may or may not be getting blurry…because there may or may not be tears…his babyhood is going so fast.

If you need me, I’ll be crying into my mug cake.