Easier Mornings

There is not a morning person in this family. We really, really hate mornings. One day this week, Carter literally punched Thomas in the face when Thomas attempted to wake Carter up for school. (He was pretty much still asleep when he did it). And I totally understand how he was feeling.

So, naturally, mornings are hard around here. We tend to sleep as late as possible and then rush to get out the door. We've taken a few steps that have helped our mornings run more smoothly. Buying a coffee maker with a timer was a great move. I've also recently started making an entire week's worth of breakfasts on Sunday afternoons. Egg and cheese sandwiches get assembled and refrigerated, ready for 40 seconds in the microwave before we run out the door.

It may not be the best routine, but it's getting us out the door. And until my mom decides to move in here and start waking us all up gently with a glass of OJ or coffee in bed every morning (please?!), it's going to have to do.

Faux Father's Day

I'm going to be out of town on Father's Day, and I didn't want Thomas to miss out on having a dad-centric day. So, yesterday, we had a Fowlkes Family Faux Father's Day celebration.

Breakfast in bed

Homemade cards presented to Dad on a homemade tray

Headed off to see a Braves game with Cart Cart

"Happy Faux Father's Day, Dad!"

Birthday Breakfast

It's taken me several days to get out a post on Carter's birthday, and this will be a very short one. I had to leave the evening of his birthday for a business trip, and only got back last night. So the first birthday post will be quick, and I'll try to get a party post up tomorrow.

For breakfast on the morning of his 4th birthday, Carter got a funny face pancake and chocolate milk, prompting him to spontaneously exclaim (for the first time ever), "My Mama is the best cooker!"

But perhaps the best thing about his birthday morning is that Thomas and I both got up when he called us -- with very limited grumbling.

Breakfast for Three

When I was in Philadelphia this weekend visiting Patrick, Kirstin and sweet baby Eavan, I recounted the following story, and they promptly chastised me for not having blogged it. So, without further ado:

One morning several weeks ago, I woke to the sounds of Carter moving around in the kitchen. I went downstairs to discover him sitting on the counter, wearing an oven mitt and preparing to remove three waffles from the toaster oven. Three waffles that he had taken from the freezer, climbed on the counter and cooked.

When I came in (and just before I gave him the speech about how wonderful and smart he is, but that he still isn't allowed to use the toaster oven alone), he told me that he was making breakfast for the three of us. He then showed me the three plates he had pulled from the cabinet and lined up on the counter, ready for plating up the waffles. The counter also held a (pretty heavy) carton of milk that he had pulled from the fridge.

But here's the best part. I went to make coffee, and as I started to pour water in the coffee maker, it overflowed -- because it had already been filled with water. Carter said, "I tried to make coffee, but I couldn't get the top off [the part that holds the grounds]." I finished up the coffee, and we sat down to eat our waffles.

The following weekend, he filled the coffee maker again (this time I checked before adding water). Again, I ground the beans and finished up the coffee. As I was sipping the coffee, I looked over at the coffee maker and wondered how he filled the it with water. Both times he had completely filled it with water. The pot itself would be too heavy if it were full, so he was probably filling it in several steps, but it might be a bit unwieldy for him, with the lid and all. I asked Carter how he filled up the coffee maker. "Do you use the coffee pot?" "No." He points to a dirty glass sitting next to the sink. "I filled it up and poured it in until it was full."

I remember that glass from last night. I remember how, when we went to bed, it was sitting next to the sink, containing melting ice and the remnants of a bourbon and coke.

Coffee prepared by my precocious and very thoughtful three-year-old... even when it's made with pretty gross water, it tastes great.

Pancakes!

Last Saturday, Carter helped us make pancakes (I like to make a big batch and save them for his breakfasts during the week). The next day, my mom asked him if he wanted soome pancakes. He immediately ran to the kitchen and climbed up into his tower, ready to do more stirring and pouring. He was most distressed when he realized he was expected to sit at the table and eat pancakes.

Christmas Eve Eve

We had a relaxing day at Nonna and Cart Cart's house today.

Carter did some posing in front of the Christmas tree this morning.


Although his highchair seemed a bit too big at breakfast this morning, we did manage to make it work for him by dinner time!



And Carter was quite happy to finally meet his Aunt Ashley!