Happy Birthday Karter

Karter's birthday was this weekend and my little guy turned 7. I'll share a few facts about him that y'all might not know.

Karter was the biggest of the Pettis babies, being born at 8lbs, 3oz.

He is the only one of the boys that has green/hazel eyes like his mamma.

He has a fear of natural disasters even though he has never been in one.

He loves knock, knock jokes. (would somebody pleeeese tell him some new ones.)

He collects stuffed animals.

His favorite animals are monkeys.

He's also very analytical so he has a thing for numbers and counting. An interesting conversation between him and my sister went something like this:

Karter: "Aunt Misti, what's your favorite letter in the alphabet?"

Aunt Misti: "Ummm, I don't know. I've never thought about it. Maybe M?"

Karter: "Mine is E. You know why?"

Aunt Misti: "Why?"

Karter: "Because E is the fifth letter in the alphabet and my favorite numbers are 5 and 15"

Karter smothers me with hugs and kisses throughout the day, especially when he's supposed to be doing his schoolwork.

He is easily embarassed and doesn't like to be the center of attention.

His favorite food is shrimp.

His favorite color is green.

Karter also thinks I am extremely old. Like older than metal, steel, or aluminum.

That's old.

I'm surprised he hasn't tried to put me a nursing home.

We had this conversation right after he learned to ride his new bike:

Karter: "Mom, what color were bikes back then?"

Me: knowing exactly what he was referring to, "Back when?"

Karter: "Back when you were a kid."

Me: "They had all colors, just like now."

Karter: "Oh"

I can see wheels turning in his little head and I'm wondering what's going to come next when he asks, "Were they made out of wood?"

Happy Birthday Karter Mack! We love you!

Differences

Monday, Karter and I were making cookies. I was dumping in the ingredients and he was manning the mixer. When we were finished, I ask the boys if they wanted to lick the beaters. Karter has done this several times before, but apparently actually seeing the raw eggs go into the cookie dough affected his decision.

He asked, "Can't raw eggs make you sick?"

I replied, "Well, yes, technically I guess they could. But you really won't be eating very much cookie dough and not actually getting a lot of raw eggs. So you probably won't get sick. You've eaten cookie dough before and never gotten sick."

Karter declares, "I'm not eating it."

That's just the kinda guy he is.

This made Kenson very happy. "Cool!" He exclaimed. "I'll eat yours too!"

Because, that's just the kinda guy he is.

Kenson's DIY photo shoot

These pictures really don't need an explanation, but this would not be a blog if I didn't give one, now would it?

Kenson found my camera and used it on his favorite subject... himself.

First day of school

I quit.

Just kidding, but it did not go well.

What's really important?

I finally received all of the boys' curriculum so the first day of school will be this Monday, Sept. 13th. Yesterday, I was making sure I had everything prepared. Sharpening pencils, trying to organize all of their books and muddling through the teachers' manual took up most of my day. Knowing that today was Sunday and I consider Sunday to be my day "off" (no laundry; no housework), I went ahead and wrote some assignments on our dry erase board. Later in the evening the boys asks if they could add something to the list. My parents had come over for dinner and we were saying our goodbye's and I never noticed what the boys had added to their assignments. This morning I took a picture to show you their addition.

Apparently "Bake cookies" is a very important task that I had neglected to include in their academics.

A new mascot

I love this Cat. I saw him the other day and quickly added him to my computer. He's my new mascot.

Do you think I could have a t-shirt made with him on it?

A bumper sticker?

A flag flown proudly outside my home?

Maybe just a coffee cup.

I think the reason I like him so much is that he so appropriately expresses my feelings on a plethora of subjects.

Me as a homeschooling mom

Gray hair

Potty training

Housework

Fat-free mayonnaise

Dieting

I could go on and on, but I think you get the idea.

Angry kitty will be visiting the Pettis blog often in the future.

Kohen's most recent photo shoot

You can learn many things from children. How much patience you have, for instance. ~Franklin P. Jones

Karter 1, Mom 0

Karter has been a serial sleep stalker for the past few years. I can't really pin point when this started, but it has gone on way too long. He'll come and get into our bed numerous times throughout the night even though we take him and put back in his bed. We actually have counted, and between the two us we have put him back in his bed up to 5 times in one night.

This is very frustrating.

He grinds his teeth. He throws his legs over my head. He pins me to the bed by rolling over on my hair.

Did I say this is very frustrating?

The other night we had this conversation when he crawled into our bed:

Me: "What are you doing?"

Karter: "I want to sleep in your bed."

Me: "No. You need to sleep in your own bed."

Karter: no reply. He just continues to crawl into my bed.

Suddenly, I get a bright idea.

Me: "Karter, you're going to be 7 soon and you can't sleep with your mom and dad when you're 7.

Score!

He gathers his pillow and starts to go into his room.

Yes! Victory is sweet!

But wait... He stops and turns...

Karter: "Mama?"

Me: "Yes?"

Karter: "Can I just sleep in here tonight? For the last time?"

Blam!! Straight to the heart!

The last time? The last time?

Suddenly his life flashes before my eyes. The day he was born; getting his first tooth; loosing his first tooth; his first day of school; learning to ride his bike.

These past seven years have flown by.

Where did they go?

I now see vision of his future: singing in the youth choir; getting his drivers license; graduating from high school; driving off into the sunset with his red headed girlfriend and forgetting about his poor momma who grew him in her womb.

Me: "Ok, you can sleep with us."

Me: "But you have to cuddle with me. And grind your teeth. And throw your legs across my head. But don't pin me to the bed by my hair. That is really frustrating."

Funny

What do you call it when a home school mom is caught talking to herself?