A day late, but a very good excuse. See the glassy eyes? The flushed cheeks (on Andrew)? The pale brow (of the Sweetpea)? The sign balanced on the trashcan (vomit containment device)? Yes, we may be a day late, but we're doing ok considering I write from the house of pestilence. I'm currently downing Emergen-C like it's tequila shooters on Cinco de Mayo. With any luck we've turned the corner and are the end is in sight. Wouldn't want to be stuck inside on the beautiful weekend ahead.
Oh, and Elaine? Took Andrew to the doctor yesterday and, one day shy of 5 months, he clocked in at 19 pounds, 4 oz. That's a whole ounce more than 18-month-old Helen! I don't even know what to say.