Don’t Get Me Wrong,

but raising a toddler is crazy. The craziest thing I’ve done, ever. I say this only because there is no Tucker manual. There is no chapter in any book that provides insight as to WHY Tucker hasn’t eaten meat for over a year. Where is the article that talks about the likelihood of Tucker surviving on string cheese, bananas, and bagels. Why doesn’t he like spaghetti anymore? Why does he yell…at us…for no apparent reason? Is he channeling his inner teenager? I see about 165 15-17 year-olds a day. I understand them more than Tucker. I imagine it’s more likely due to the fact that young adults have a more fully developed frontal lobe, and I can usually safely assume how the day will go based on their body language. Yeah. That must be it.

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FYI: Tucker is eating a bagel with cream cheese for dinner. He’s just gotten on his push-to-ride toy his paternal grandparents gave him. He makes sure I see him wave bye-bye as he pushes off and rides through the kitchen. He comes back into the living room, round the other side, hops off and runs straight for me, arms out-stretched, and gives me a hug. And we’re watching Milo and Otis.

 Tamara and Tucker 

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Notes on: Birthday Parties

Tucker has been partying it up the last few months. We had his birthday in October, a co-worker’s little boy’s 1st birthday in November, and a family friend’s son’s 4th b-day bash this month. This is the life of a parent I suppose. We’ve all had our kids roughly around the same time (give or take  few years difference) so we hit up a party about once every two months. Spring parties with our friends usually involve bounce-houses and barbecues. I already have about 5 year’s worth of party themes pinned on pinterest.

TuckerBDay

Tucker turns two

TuckerSaurus

Dinosaur after-party

TuckerBubble

Bubble catchers

 Tamara and Tucker 

Double Dipping

2014-06-08 13.54.47I never had an issue with “double dipping”. I know people who adamantly oppose it. I can see their point; I just can’t justify shoving a whole [insert item to be dipped] into my mouth with the respectable amount of dip on it. Nor can I justify denying myself dip after consuming the respectable amount of dip and the well-measured amount of item to be dipped. So to appease my double-dipping nay-sayers, I do allot myself a respectable amount of dip on my own plate. And I double dip the heck out of it. An indulgence I have obviously passed on to my son.

❤ Tamara and Tucker ❤

Peeling Grapes

It occurred to me this afternoon as I peeled about a handful of grapes for my almost-20-month old son that 1) I was peeling grapes, and 2) that was weird.

On Monday, my husband, son, and I went to visit my aunt. She’s one of those amazingly generous types…and needless to say she was very patient with Tucker and indulged his fruit-craving appetite with strawberries, freshly picked (by her and the hubs) cherries, and some purple globe grapes. The grapes were cut in halves due to the toughness of their skins.

Tucker was in fruit, namely cherry, heaven when said aunt sent us home with a huge–strangely huge–zip lock bag filled with them. For good measure, she threw in a bunch of the purple globe grapes. And the heavenly consumption of fruit continued for the next two days. By Thursday, Tucker was unfortunately over the cherries. The bulk of these are happily chilling in the freezer. Lucky cherries. (Highs here are in the upper 90s and we have a lowly Swamp cooler)

So today, I decide Tucker should eat something other than a bit of banana (his go-to fruit) and decided that we needed to finish off those purple grapes. He’d eaten one earlier today that I’d oddly thought to peel.

As I was peeling the grapes, I flashed back to a few years back–before Tucker and marriage,  before Seoul–to when I was babysitting a two-year old out in the east mountains. The parents of whom were an ER doctor and a hope-to-be author. The mother (the writer) basically hired me so she could get out of the mountains and write/shop/drink designer coffee in solitude but near other adults in the relative hustle and bustle of Albuquerque.

I remembered, as the lukewarm water streamed through my fingers and over grapes making it easier to peel, the little boy’s mother doing this very thing and how plain odd I thought it was. I never imagined myself doing the very same thing. Funny how things work out.

Tucker wasn’t too keen on those grapes…until I put them in a cup. He proceeded to “drink” those grapes like a boss.

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♡Tamara and Tucker♡