Jess's birthday was a success! Brian and Oliver . . .
. . . whipped up a tasty breakfast of Belgianwaffles with strawberries and whipped cream . . .
. . . all because they love their "puppy mama" . . .
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Birthday Pictures
Jess's birthday was a success! Brian and Oliver . . .
. . . whipped up a tasty breakfast of Belgianwaffles with strawberries and whipped cream . . .
Friday, February 13, 2009
Birthday Holiday!
Jess and I strongly believe in celebrating as often as possible. Too often, life settles into a routine that is comforting, but can be numbing. For instance, just yesterday Gus read the Gettysburg Address to celebrate Lincoln's Birthday!
Last Monday marked the beginning of Jess's Birthday Holiday. Instead of celebrating Jess's birthday on just one day—February 16—we observe it for two whole weeks! (I think its protracted length allows us to call it a holiday, sort of like the Thanksgiving Holiday or the Christmas Holiday.) When she was at Drake, her birthday celebration commenced two whole weeks before and lasted one more week after the special day. But as she's grown older, Jess—often citing her increasing age—has shortened the holiday's span.
Of course every day we grow older together, my love for her grows exponentially! I love the Birthday Holiday because it gives me an extended opportunity to celebrate her. (It just so happens that our the 6 month anniversary of our wedding falls on February 16, too.) Our wallets aren't thick these days, so instead of buying her one of these, I've been trying to wake up with her at 5:30 AM to make her coffee and help her get going. So far, I've been mostly successful!
So, in case you've forgotten, use this post as a reminder to call Jess and wish her Happy Birthday! If you call, you might even get to talk to Ollie!
Last Monday marked the beginning of Jess's Birthday Holiday. Instead of celebrating Jess's birthday on just one day—February 16—we observe it for two whole weeks! (I think its protracted length allows us to call it a holiday, sort of like the Thanksgiving Holiday or the Christmas Holiday.) When she was at Drake, her birthday celebration commenced two whole weeks before and lasted one more week after the special day. But as she's grown older, Jess—often citing her increasing age—has shortened the holiday's span.
Of course every day we grow older together, my love for her grows exponentially! I love the Birthday Holiday because it gives me an extended opportunity to celebrate her. (It just so happens that our the 6 month anniversary of our wedding falls on February 16, too.) Our wallets aren't thick these days, so instead of buying her one of these, I've been trying to wake up with her at 5:30 AM to make her coffee and help her get going. So far, I've been mostly successful!
So, in case you've forgotten, use this post as a reminder to call Jess and wish her Happy Birthday! If you call, you might even get to talk to Ollie!
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Cleaning House
Jess has a ritual of cleaning every weekend. It's at least a 3-hour affair and the entire apartment is scoured of husband and dog! But little Oliver hasn't warmed up to the vacuum yet. There is only one place he feels safe:
That's our little pup hiding from the vacuum on the couch, in his bed, under the coffee table! (I told you Jess goes crazy when she cleans!)
When the cleaning is all done the place looks amazing, but truth be told, there is still one spot in the apartment that never stays clean long: the shoe mat that sits by the door. And where do you think Oliver likes to rest his weary head after traumatic vacuum encounters? The dirtiest corner of the apartment . . .
That's our little pup hiding from the vacuum on the couch, in his bed, under the coffee table! (I told you Jess goes crazy when she cleans!)
When the cleaning is all done the place looks amazing, but truth be told, there is still one spot in the apartment that never stays clean long: the shoe mat that sits by the door. And where do you think Oliver likes to rest his weary head after traumatic vacuum encounters? The dirtiest corner of the apartment . . .
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