Yesterday I turned 34. I liked 33 a lot, but I'm game for this number too. I have always thought that birthdays were really more about the mamas who birthed those babies, and now I really think that. I call my mom on my birthday, and Oscar, you better call me on yours. Speaking of Oscar, he gave me a birthday present that pretty much eclipsed all the other extremely awesome things that happened yesterday: one, he slept for six hours straight without a peep that night and two, he put himself down for a nap all by his little self. I know I have readers who are probably like, bfd, but I know I also have readers who get just exactly how priceless it is to be able to put your kid in the bed and leave him there for a snooze. I danced a jig in the livingroom that nearly left me wounded, I was that excited. We have been hanging in there as cheerfully as possible, but the last two months or so have been a real ride in the sleep department. Moving, teeth, new motor skills, who knows. So, you know, thanks for the sleep, kid, you made your mama greet the day with serious zeal.
Fresh faced family after a kicking hike. Oh the faces we make to get this kid to smile at the camera.