Mmmmmwah! (All Miss Boo's kisses have sound effects, especially when we kiss Brother. And Miss Boo pronounces that "Broba", by the way.)
Here is the garden, waiting for things to spring up and fill the bean poles. Those wall o' water tomato dealies look impressive but the tomatoes are still scraggly little babies. We'll see if they spring to life or not. But aren't the pavers gorgeous? Who has paved English-style paths in their garden, I ask you? Someone whose husband works for a cement company, that's who.
Here is one of my pretty apple trees. Considering that there were about ten blossoms last year and almost no apples, I'm thinking we might have a more apple-intensive year, wouldn't you say?
Here is little man in his sumo pose.
Just in case you were wondering how diaper-changing is happening when it's very inconvenient to haul a poopy child and a broken foot all the way into the nursery--well, we are playing the game "Adapt."May I just say, for all the fam to hear, how awesome the Husband has been through this whole gimpy episode of my life? I don't know how many husbands there are out there who do things like work hard all day at the office ("the office" being a place where you have to wear steeltoes and a hardhat) and then come home and change babies, cook dinner, and clean up after a wife who's been tootling around bumping into things in her wheelchair all day--but I bet it ain't many. And when it comes to doing all this without an inordinate amount of fussing, I bet there's only one. That's my man. :)
Happy Tuesday, ya'll,
Cheers,
Breanna
P.S.
Did you know that when we were little, Kenny, Uncle Dunkle, and I all used to say "Happy Memorial Day"? Because it was, like, a holiday and of course you were happy on Memorial Day? Kids. They just don't understand the deep connection between picnicking and the dead.
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