Lovin My Daddy Time

I don't know if you've gathered a theme from these blog posts, but Bryce clearly has a favorite person, and it is not me (Danica).

Here he is helping his daddy fix the sprinklers by throwing all the tools into the hole. Makes perfect sense.


An addendum to this: Caution, boys making salsa

Getting the stuff out

Looking to see how it's done.




Just like Da


Yay salsa! (he likes it on chips by the way, light on salsa, heavy on the chips )

Boots

Mommy please help me put Daddy's boots on:

Ok now I will take them to the curb and wait for daddy to finally come home.



Major dirt+yogurt=very interesting snack time and a ticket straight to the tub.




Yikes! (Strangely these pictures don't really do it justice)

Helping Dad

Here's Bryce helping his da to do some important things on the computer.

Not sure how the spoon factors in, but I'm sure it was important.


(Andrew is thinking if he doesn't smile, then I will stop taking his picture. How long have we been married now? )

Weekends with Bryce

You may notice in these pictures a certain theme of Bryce's new photo-ready smile. It is actually very hard to get pictures of him doing a normal smile now. Andrew played in a soccer tournament in Newport this Saturday so Bryce is getting ready for that with his soccer star headband:


Our big belly boy at the Big Belly Deli with Nana.

Helping mommy do laundry while Daddy works on Sunday. He had dragged the hamper all the way from our closet (if you have been to our house you know how far this is) and was all the way inside of the hamper pulling out clothes when I ran to get the camera, but didn't make it back in time.



The washer has a clear lid, so of course the beginning of each load must be supervised. This one must have looked good.

A Canning Fiasco

Dear Mom and Dad,

Thanks for the great and probably expensive education you gave me. I find that the hours I poured into those degrees make me entirely ill-equipped to handle raising and storing my own food. I am underqualified for this task and my husband's "alternative mix" on i tunes blasting in the background is not going to save me from my certain and inescapable fate.

Surely, three cans of tomato sauce would not be hard to "put up" so they say in the biz. I scoffed at the tomato, but the tomato has beaten me. It's squishy squishiness has demolished any last hope I had of surviving on my own in the wilderness. After 3 hours of back breaking, juice splattering madness I give you the fruit of my wild-aspiration-wielding labor:


Yeah, there are three of them, and yes, that means 1 hour a jar. Will they taste better than the one I could buy for $1. 86 at Winco? Probably not. Will they even seal overnight while I find my dreams flush with slimy peels and spurting seeds? Probably not.

Consider this my lesson learned. Please send Ragu.

Love,

Your daughter

Now that's a Belly

Reading my current favorite book. I have already read this with mommy 12 times today. So, it is not mommy's favorite book.





As you can see, I also feel very serious about Cats A to Z.

Vacation Recovery

My mom came up this weekend to watch Bryce while we did something for our anniversary (which we had forgotten about) and to keep him occupied while Andrew and I try to recover from our major lack of vacation sleep.


Getting a ride (my mom is for sure doing all the work on this one, but he did "push" her around on it which really makes him laugh).



The neighbor is running a VERY interesting leaf blower.



The face he still makes when he thinks he's supposed to be smiling. Now all our pictures look like this.