This is Charlotte’s pumpkin. She is quite proud of it. She should be considering the epic toddler tantrum we endured to get it home. She says “My punkin!” whenever she sees it and “Bye-bye punkin!” while waving at our front stoop each morning. You can count on her announcing, “My punkin!” once more when we get home. She even showed it to Grandma via Facetime by using it as a chair. I figure if I were 22 lbs. I would think a pumpkin would be a great chair too.

 

As parents we are thrilled that she loved this gourd so much and we were hopeful this would mean she would be interested in some different fall foods this year. Every autumn I make Rachael Ray’s Pumpkin Sausage Pasta. Ya’ll, this stuff is amazeballs! It is perfect for nights when the weather starts getting cooler. Greyson always wanders up to the stove to smell the pot. I can always count on extra kitchen kisses and complements on my cooking. We couldn’t wait to share this recipe with our girl.

 

www.foodnetwork.comI cut up her serving in small bites and gave her a little extra parmesan cheese. She was skeptical when we sat her in the high chair, but she did warm up when she saw that her meal was being served on an Elmo plate. We sat at the table, said the blessing and started eating. We could tell Charlotte would need a little coaxing.

That’s when we said it.

“It’s pumpkin pasta! It’s made with pumpkin! Yummy!”

We might as well have stabbed Elmo right in front of her. Her lip trembled, and she screamed “No! My punkin!”

Oops.

We assured her that her pumpkin was still in tact. Greyson went outside to the front step and brought it in to show her. We may not make jack-o-lanterns this Halloween. I’ll leave the pumpkin out through Thanksgiving, but when Christmas decorations go up it has to go.

Who am I kidding? Any bets on if I’ll have garland around that “punkin?”

If you’re wondering what this is all about. Here it is. Grab a tissue and enjoy. Clearly we did.

Last night we had to put back all the picture frames, vases, artificial plants, (I am the Jack Kevorkian of house plants.) candles, and various knick knacks I never dust. We were uprooted this weekend for renovations.

Nearly every candleholder or frame he picked up, Greyson said, “Where does this go?” Or, “Uh. Here. You put this one away. I don’t know where it goes.”

I remind you we’ve lived in this house for 7 years. I gawked at him, exasperated and asked, “How do you not know that picture goes on the shelf by the TV?!”

He said, “Amy, who’s the starting running back for Auburn this year?”

::blink::

“Uh, I don’t know,” I replied, unsure of where he was going with this one.

He said, “Yeah, and why don’t you know? Because you don’t care!”

“I care about College Football!!! But, not that much,” I said honestly.

“Exactly! I care about decorating, but not that much,” he replied, and handed me another frame.

Just FYI, this is Tre Mason. Many (a.k.a. Greyson) believe he will be Auburn’s starting RB this year. War Eagle!

I had a friend at work remind me that Friday is the opening ceremony for the Summer Olympic Games in London. The last time the Olympic torch was lit, I got knocked up.

Greyson and I have joked that we got pregnant the night of the Opening Ceremony of the winter games in Vancouver back in 2010. The Parade of Nations gets boring! What can we say?! We were smooching on the couch by the time the delegation from Azerbaijan entered the arena.

The last day of the games we watched the gold medal hockey game with our friends. I went home to take a test and passed with the flying colors of the five rings. Well, a pink line anyway. (I understand that biologically the timing of this may be off. It’s just a funny prediction.)

Greyson looked at me yesterday with a cocked eyebrow (that’s his most seductive look) and said, “Hey Hot Stuff, you think we’ll make it through this Olympics without making another baby?” I assured him under no circumstance would we be making another little Team USA fan this year.

However, if David Beckham makes an appearance in the opening ceremonies, I may start feeling a little randy. It is the XXX Olympic Games.

 

I think yesterday was proof John Edwards may be the luckiest SOB on the planet.  I get where the jury is coming from.  I mean, it’s not illegal to be philandering douchebag.  I think he knew that money was going where he really needed it.  He’s such a smooth talker he convinced some old lady to pay to hide his little oopsy-daisy side project.  I think he made sure that money was not “campaign funds.”  Come on!  He’s a lawyer.  He knew the law and I don’t think he broke it.  Slime ball, yes.  Criminal, no.

One person caught my eye the whole trial.  Cate Edwards faithfully and dutifully joined her father in court every day.  The same father who cheated on her cancer-stricken mother and betrayed her family.

The Associated Press

I have such admiration for her dignity and grace.  I know what it’s like to be let down by your dad.  I understand the embarassment and disgust of dealing with the aftermath of his sins.  It was bad enough for me.  I can’t imagine having everybody in the world know about what my dad had done.  Maybe she and Chelsea Clinton should start a club.

Anyway, I think it was a true sign of forgiveness and strength for Cate to stand with him.  It was a wonderful example for her younger siblings who are no doubt still mourning the loss of their mother.  It inspires me to continue to work on my relationship with my dad, as an example for my daughter.

Well done Cate, well done.  It’s over now.  I hope you now have time to focus on your marriage, and your life.  Good luck.  (Sorry for calling your dad a douche.)