2

And he is 2 and oh so amazing. He loves vacuums, hair dryers, brooms and basketball hoops. He likes to jump from couches. He's tiny and mighty and so loved.


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Heavy Heart

Today we said goodbye to our good friend. We know you are hiking in the woods and running free.





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Halloween train toppenish

At Christmas time last year we went Toppenish train museum for Santa train. You may remember my post about the North Pole looking like a junk yard. But Bryce loved it. The had a whole room full of Thomas and a bunch of electric trains. Bryce has been begging to go back. So we went to do the Halloween train. Ummm no room full of Thomas or toy trains. You do get to ride the train about a block. This blew Quin's mind. Ooh ooh. He is easy to please. He loves the vacuum. Then you pull up to junk yard. There are two boxes of pumpkins. A plastic ring toss and a beanbag toss. Plus fake store fronts. (You can take your picture in the fake jail- the lady informed). Well good thing you can go in the jail because it is really hard to hold on to an 18 month old with a train driving around. The kid runs towards loud noises. He is fortunate he lives now because if it was survival of the fittest, Quin's not. It is also fortunate that shoved in the jail are all Quin's favorites. Chemicals, brooms, ladders, pieces of rebar. Ooh ooh. They happily took No balance Damon and my 4 year old on a pumper car. Blew Bryce's mind. Ooh ooh. F for safety. My opinion: F, so lame. Bryce and Quin say best day ever.









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Call me Martha

This picture defines my decorating and gardening skills. Cheers.


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Don't even get me started

Two piles of dog poop. One in the am, one in the pm. A four year who pooped in his pants. Then pooped on the toilet and came out covered in poop. An 18 month old who acts like a baby hippo when you change his diapers and when you set him on the ground, pulls off his diapers and runs. All you single parents out there, let me buy you a drink.


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Someone please

Save me. The dog pooped on the floor. I have a four year who is rubbing against me saying "do I stink" (the answer is yes). And the cat literally threw up on the couch above our heads. Someone better get me a drink. Quick.

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I am not playing.

Bryce this is what I do when you are not home. ("Mom what are you going to do? Play?") Sorry Bryce, contrary to what you think, I am not playing talking cars when you aren't here.


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