Happy Birthday, Sean!

Actually, it was officially yesterday, but since he was out of town and we had parent teacher conferences, a baseball game, and an emergency pediatrician visit, we're celebrating today.

And what wouldn't be more of a perfect greeting than waking up to this in your front yard:



Or this:



The kids thought it was bewilderedly amusing:



I am going to make a spectacular birthday dinner in mere minutes and shower him with gifts hoping we won't be at the doctor's office all weekend.

Because the perfect baby is sick. The yucky kind of sick that has you watching every breath she takes and monitoring every gesture. She's off formula for a few days, and sucking on Pedialyte bottles to ward off dehydration, which I thought wasn't going to fly, but she really likes the stuff, so that's good. Again, even when she's sick, she's perfect.

But it turns out she can't be sick, because I lose focus on everything else. Today, the hospital called to pre-register Amy for her stuff next week, and I got half way through the call before I realized I had just registered Jessica...Doh. I had to stop and say, "Wait a minute, that's not the right middle name. That's my other daughter. I am an idiot."

I got no disagreement on the other end of the line.