Carter’s eating habits are the absolute shits lately. My anxiety levels have reached an all time high over the fact that he will not eat anything that’s remotely healthy for him. He scoffs at anything that smells like a vegetable, gives The Royal Shove-off to meat - unless it is a breaded chunk of chicken-like-meat substance or pigs assholes. French fries - yes; baked potatoes - no. The kid will eat a plate of fuckin’ ketchup with a side of margarine if I let him.

For the past three days he’s consumed two chicken fingers (more ketchup then fingers since he likes to use the chicken as a dip stick to eat his ketchup), one 1″ x 1″ square of toast, a pancake dosed in margarine and syrup, and half a grape.
Considering all the crap he’s been eating lately, I’m surprised he hasn’t been shitting chucks of plastic or deformed chickens.

His father is partially to blame. Mike is a connoisseur of preservative laden “foods”. He will eat just about anything that has been prepackaged and riddled with chemicals. Most nights he makes dinner, it consists of something that is premade, precooked and frozen. I’m definitely not knocking it (too much); I too enjoy a good TV dinner once and a while. But every night makes for smelly asses that just won’t quit and a boulder-like blob in my stomach. *gag*

At the rate they’re going, Carter’s going to end up a mouth breathing, 100lbs three year old with the imprint of his ass developed into my couch cushions while him and his father take turns sharing the oxygen tank.

:::

I plan to answer more questions but I was a busy bee trying to get WordPress set up (Yes, I decided to make the change, though it’s a bit down the road yet) and workin’ on these new awesome digs; I’ll get to more questions. Promise.