Meet Me On The 3rd Of July

So, you can waste weeks just trying to figure out how to best post an unbelievable story that most of you have already heard and then suddenly you're two months in and the baby has ceased to look like a swollen sea monkey/gummy child hybrid and you're not sure whether to post the early pictures or just jump ahead to the more recent, more decent ones, and you don't really post anything because, well, lots of things. My Uncle Dave calls it the Paralysis of Analysis. And we've had our share.

So let's just jump in and pretend we'll get back to The Big Story later.

July 3. Mormon American Independence Day. The only time Mormons are ever early for anything and other jokes.

We went to Sugarhouse Park for the fireworks for the first time ever. Our friends have been going every year since they (swoon) first kissed on the Sugarhouse lawn years ago. Yes, that's very romantic and helps you get an even clearer view of why the Tanners (and Ryan's songs) are so dreamy. We were lucky to meet up with them, Sarah Sample and the adorable June, and a whole bunch of the Tanner Network of Fine People.

Leo barrelled down the hill, drank giant swigs of Henry Weinhart's, watched Jack & Cash with awe & admiration, and basically wore me out. But it was all worth it, watching how he just worshipped the firecrackers, alternately reeling back in awe and shaking his hand at the sky. The kid smiles an awful lot, but it lets us see a whole, broad range of Smile Subgenres. This one was: Thrilled Internal Implosion About Explosions, or something. Penny just gazed intently, furthering her campaign for Best Baby In The History. No offense to Leo, of course, but sleeping through the night before he turned two could've helped his cause.

Modern Renaissance Man Ryan took a few pictures with this stuff called film.

Slip On Argyle Vans Etc.

We moved. Here's Leo getting his first bath in our new, freshly Ajaxed kitchen sink. He appears to be enjoying himself.


We saw a bit of Zoolander the other day and I think Holly might've gotten some bad ideas. Here, Leo shows off the summer collection, a hand nonchalantly in his pocket, and a glimmer of Magnum in his eyes.

Bumbo. Yet another word that, a couple years ago, I never would've imagined saying with any sort of frequency and/or straight face. But Leo loves it. [Thanks belong to the Smiths and Dutsons.] It's helping a ton as he's just figured out how to lean forward, resulting in more than one faceplant into the pillows. Holly has him on a pretty rigid schedule of Hip Hop Abs and we're glad to see the dividends.



Pacifier Face. The kid can suck.

I know I'm lacking objectivity. But it's pretty hard to look at this photo and keep a sour face.

Sleeping with mom.

Random Nonsequential Photo II

The day we found out Holly was pregnant. And, no, I don't subscribe to the "we're pregnant" school of thought. As Holly can attest, I am definitely not harvesting a human in my belly, not getting kicked by said human, not prone to sudden nausea, not subject to sudden aches & pains, and I get plenty of sleep.