painted

You've officially got your own little family when your walls become comprised of a piece of artwork other than those historic wedding and honeymoon pictures. I never would have imagined that reveling in the curves of little fat rolls could make me feel more at peace than a picture of myself and hubs sprawled on the beach.

I show Carter off all over the internet in so many ways. Hundreds of pictures. Videos here and there.

And now I have: Carter. Le painting.

I emailed new mommy Melissa at Missy's Portraits my current favorite photo, and within weeks she'd turned my baby into a beautiful memory for a wall in our new house.

I fought small tears after I ripped open the package and took in my Carter, staring back at me in surreal painting form. The first thing I noticed? She captured the exact shape of each of his ears. My heart squished a little. I thought I was the only one who'd ever admired the two slightly different ear shapes aside his wide-eyed, doll face. An incredible artist notices everything; not a single detail in his expression was left unexamined.

Check out more of Melissa's work here. If you'd like your own bumble's custom portrait painted, she's offering Bringing up Bumble readers 25% off your order. Just mention discount code 6927. It's as simple as emailing her a picture.

dear baby blog,

Because every blog gets a little drama.

I just want to sit here and write to you about my thoughts on the sponsorship post I published yesterday. This has kinda been in the back of my mind ever since I clicked Publish Post. As my readers, I want you to completely understand the thought process behind the evolution of this blog.

Some of you might know I started blogging headstrong in the mindset that I wouldn't clutter my page with ads because, well, I told you I wouldn't. I kept it that way for a long time. Eventually I dabbled in a few small ads and reviews ... I was so flattered that people were asking about it. My blog is good? Ok, then.

Now I'm jumping feet first into the sea of monthly sponsorship.

But why?

Before I had Carter, I worked for four years at a desk job at TV Guide that I hated. I was so bored. Nobody offered praise to anyone. There wasn't a single drop of creative air in that office; I couldn't breathe.

Since that was during the hay day of Myspace, I played constantly with the design of my Myspace page and was obsessed with perfecting it creatively. I found my love for sharing the beauty of my life on the internet. Major bummer that Myspace had no actual role in anything that mattered. And believe me, as the queen of Myspace, if there were a way to make it important I would have figured it out and been the best at it.

During the end of my pregnancy and after I had Carter, I got deeper and deeper into blogging about him. Since I'd quit TV Guide to stay home, we lost an income we'd relied on but have managed to trudge through anyway.

And then I realized - the blogs I've idolized since the dawn of keyboards (her, her and her) are completely ridden with ads, reviews and giveaways; that's never made me love them any less.

Is it possible my readers won't get mad at me if I allow some sponsors? (and I also promise never to use the words Bliggity Blog?)

I've found cute clothes here and there from their sponsors' features. Baby stuff, too. The find that stunned me the most was an ad I saw for Diana's blog (Dear Carter) on Irocksowhat's page a couple months ago. She's adorable, yes. Incredibly intuitive thumb for blogging, yes. As I clicked over into her Blog Love section, I read that she was inspired by me to name her son Carter. I dropped to the floor.

Sponsors offer us connections. They give us all discounts and giveaways. They're showing us how to find them. Appealing? Click. Annoying? Ignore.

So, I went pantsdown and displayed giant sponsor prices like all the other bloggers. That post absolutely looks like I just blog for money.

Anyone who reads a single paragraph on my page knows that I really just want to tell you in every way, shape and form about my passion for my Carter. I also hope you've read each letter of my posts and picked up on the fact that I'm honest when I write - when I review something or tell you that I love it, I really do. If I don't like something, I won't review it. I don't want my page adorned in anything Carter, Matt and I don't admire or believe in. I'm way too obsessed with perfection for that. And, after all, this blog represents my son's life.

I'm one of the few people in the world working a job I love. My job is to stay home with Carter. To teach him. Take care of him. Document his life. I get paid in hugs and kisses. And now I can pick up a few extra packs of diapers at the store.

Ok and maybe another tube of lipgloss, too.

sponsor bumble in june

Lookout, internet. I'm getting organized.

Do you have a blog, etsy shop or business that'd make a cute decoration on the side of my page? Yes?

Want to be a sponsor for the month of June?

Since the Bumble took flight in January 2009, it's become a daily read for mommies and moms-to-be across the globe. According to Sitemeter (as of 4.19.11), every day we average 4,058 page views from 810 different readers, which includes viewers percolating in from the well-known sites Top Baby Blogs and YouTube.

We're everywhere

Twitter - 1,190+ followers

YouTube - 5,140+ subscribers

Facebook - 890+ likes

Google friend connect - 590+ followers

Top Baby Blogs - Currently ranked # 7

Let me help you get noticed! Email me at rMeghann@me.com. Acceptance for June sponsors will close 6.3.11 & ads will run June 5 - July 5.

steppin' out saturday, seven year itch

Pass the cortizone, our seven year wedding anniversary is tomorrow. Carter's with my mom for the weekend, so we celebrated last night. First, we stalked stopped by our house.

Progress awesomeness.

I was shocked at how much I'm loving the backyard view. I expected it to be low to the ground and kinda murky, but it sits really high up and feels just like a beach house overlooking a wind blown bay. I almost don't want them to add the walls, I felt so relaxed standing there.

We sat in an oversized booth for dinner at Maggiano's overlooking a crowd of diners. I picked at a giant Italian salad and stole alfredo drenched raviolis off Matt's plate.

Seven years ago, I walked down the aisle to my husband's sweet face. Swallowing my nerves, I had no prospect that I could love him any more than I did in that moment. No prospect of how fun marriage could be. I hadn't considered that I'd be turning into an adult alongside my best friend. Not an inkling of a sweet, bright eyed Carter.

And here we are.

I love you, babe.

(they changed their vote page! and it's really throwing me off)

pinterest

Have you heard of Pinterest? You have? Grr. I was the last one on the planet to get skinny jeans, too.

I made my own pinboard page tonight, and I'm thinking it's really inspirational. Fun. Addicting.

My husband's probably the only one who hasn't heard of it, so I'll explain it to you, Matt (since Carter started singing about mailboxes when I attempted to show you my laptop screen earlier. And? Husbands always listen in blogs). You use this virtual pinboard whenever you see anything on the internet you like. You pin it to your page. Followers get to know your style, You can remember items you want to get without having to save the website on your computer as a bookmark.

You draw inspiration from the people whose collections you're following - I have 4 followers so far, and I already followed them back, stole & repinned their cutest ideas to my page. I'm going to be so organized picking out decorations for our new house and planning Carter's birthday parties. Right now I've just been seeking out pretty dresses, gorgeous pictures, playroom ideas and things I want Carter to have some day.

It's working as a great substitute for online shopping, minus the buyer's remorse. And ... errm ... the exciting package that comes in the mail.

Do you remember any of your teachers calling out to your chattering class that they needed your eyes & ears at the front of the classroom?

Carter's going to be great in school.

he's well aware of his votes, too.

crocs

We finally got our hands on feet in some Crocs. I was holding out for the yellow/blue combo, but I couldn't find them in his size and didn't want to pay for shipping online. So we settled for decorating some blue ones with Jibbitz instead.

Better than a new toy. He's so friggin' proud of these shoes.

if votes could be jibbitz, we'd put them on those shoes.

♥ your votes!

borrowed socks

With 95 degree weather, I don't think grocery stores bottle enough juice to fill our Munchkin cup when we go outside. I've resorted back to winter tactics - finding indoor play places. The one we went to today was just meh. It didn't look any different than any other one we've been to - moon bounces that intimidate Carter, a few play sets and a section for littler kids. Except: as soon as we walked in, the desk guy eyed Carter's crocs and asked if we'd brought socks. Ermmm (95 degrees outside) no?

So he (graciously?) rummaged through a drawer and handed us a pair to borrow. NBD, tweeted my brain, they're probably pristine.

A No to the pristine part. They felt clean in my hand, but they were a little brown on the bottoms. I'm sure I sound stuck up to the extreme, but shared public things like, I dunno, socks for random, sweaty kid feet skeeve me out.

It took a good 10 minutes to talk Carter out of his newly jibbeted, Mickey Mouse crocs. He wore them from the second he got out of his crib today, so I had to hide them at the bottom of my purse. But the socks, he wore.

Playing kitchen. In a toy cabin. With a Dumb & Dumber haircut. Wearing public socks. Saying neeeee (cheese) when his mommy asks him to.

buttered cheerios

Carter only happily devours strawberries or cookies these days. My life is a constant hunt to find something he'll sit & eat in portions more than a single pincer grasp.

Enter: Buttered Cheerios.

How I discovered them, simplified? My husband's cousin mentioned them in facebook photo comment to my sister-in-law. Mr. Google did the rest.

Cheerios have fiber, protein and vitamins. They're easy to digest and low in sugar, so they're a healthy snack.

You can transform them into a (slightly less healthy) addiction for your toddler by throwing a tablespoon of butter and some salt in a pan and sauteeing them up. Keep the heat on medium and stir until they're all coated and toasty. Cross fingers. Close eyes. Offer to picky toddler.

I love Oprah as much as the next chick. But have you caught these past two shows - with all the goodbye performances? You'd think she was dying. I don't think Michael Jackson's funeral was even as extravagant. I have it playing on my DVR right now, and I'm fully expecting the President of the United States to be the next surprise performance (and my brain's playing with the possibility that she's a bigger star than he is). The woman can only take so much flattery until she's all humbled out; she's exhausted, leave her alone already.

In other news, I wish Extreme Couponing would just go off the air. Everyone's doing it, so all my researched, couponed free stuff is always sold out. Doesn't lassoing a small child into the store with me give me dibbs? Just sayin.'

starbucks sunday

Little Bit & I had a date at Starbucks this afternoon. I'm forcing this into a bloggable subject because his eyes were looking especially ginormous staring up at me from his seat at our table, and I need a reason to post these phone pictures.

And? There could be a correlation between iced green tea causing huge puppy dog eye enhancement. I'll get back to you on that one.

He's turned into one of those little child-baby morphs who randomly shrieks in public now. You know - the shrill pitches that have no cause or predictability and can't be quieted? Not quite translated as happy to be alive or an upset - mostly just a need to hear his own voice. I don't think we gained any fans from the set of latte sipping onlookers. But, all things considered, it was a fairly calm 15 minutes if compared to our chaotic norm.

Side note: I need to start lugging my good camera with me so I don't have to keep settling for phone pictures.

lil' friend

Am I the only parent who gets excited when her baby finds an equivalent baby-friend on the playground? One of those friends that lets you sit on the benches with all the other parents and enjoy a little hands-off entertainment?

None of the other mommies bat an eye when their kids befriend Carter. Me? I have a hard time containing myself on my seat at that bench. My visions of their future - filled with hand holding, movie dates and marriage have me popping up to take pictures and cheer them both on.

(Ah. And guard the new friend's face from Carter's spontaneous, unpredictable scratches.)

Baffling how they find each other, decide upon some sort of likability factor, then follow their new companion around in an actual, dedicated attempt at play.

Plus, nothing has me bursting with gratitude more than when Carter learns something from another kid. He believes nothing his parents tell him anymore. Sheep can say moo, for all he cares.

Didja notice? He took off his shoes. Like her.

from the ground up

Ok so it's almost a little embarrassing driving in our new neighborhood every day to stalk our construction. All the neighbors know our car, and somehow they're always outside. Playing basketball. Gardening. Yelling at their dogs. I dunno. It just seems weird that they're standing beside their actual houses watching us walk around our prized rubble.

But really, the neighbors are all nice. No Carter-aged babies yet, but we'll find 'em. In the meantime, I'm using my mighty brainpower to wish a preggo belly upon the newlywed neighbor girl next door.

tap a virtual nail into this logo?

thanks for your votes!

grocery

My eyes are always peeled for anything that could bring happiness into my son's face. Or, at the very least, get us through the next errand.

Running into the grocery store, I spotted this lovely beast. Do I dare?

I did. I ignored every drop of Miss America (as my stepmom calls me) in my blood, channeled my inner bus driver, tightened my biceps and steered the monster. He loved it. I got a full half an hour in the store without a single complaint. Although, 15 minutes of that time was spent trying to turn and maneuver.

I'd say it's easier to deal with a whining baby than push one of these.

carter for president.

Carter was so far beyond temperamental this weekend. Our meltdowns don't come from a lack in communication - we know exactly what he wants. The problem comes into play when he can't have those things.

He's obsessed with our iPhones; we can't let him play with them anymore because he calls people. On purpose. Yep, he searches for the phone icon (despite my attempts to hide it) and deliberately picks out people to prank call.

He also has a thing for mailboxes. Whenever he sees one, he points and yells Maaaay! as if that mailbox needs to be plucked from the ground and set in his hands, pronto.

He wants the glass I'm drinking from. Pens. Laptops. Screwdrivers. To play outside during a thunderstorm. Batteries. Contact solution. Makeup. Bottles of medication. Cleaning supplies. The toilet plunger. Dada's brand new sunglasses. You name it, he needs it.

Unless it's food.

His message? If you need to do something, hide from me, or don't attempt doing it at all. Either way, I can read your mind. I'll just throw a tantrum anyway.

We tried to keep him busy, overloading him with attention and play so he doesn't have emotional breakdowns. We went to parks. Playgrounds. A lake. Played with little girls. I hope a good, solid night's sleep will have him waking up on the right side of the crib this week.

if he saw your vote, he'd want it, too.