Five months old, his first Christmas. Finnegan watches eight people constantly buzz around him, and all he can do is scoot backwards. He’s almost crawling, but so far only his reverse gear works and he ends up pushing himself farther … Continue reading
She woke up with one question. “You say, ‘Happy bootday, Reagan?’” After 364 days of talking about what she wants to do on her birthday – to the point we had to reign in and discipline it lest she drive … Continue reading
Our oldest is now a big fifteen-year-old. He reaches things off the high shelves, opens tight jars for me, and chops wood. He even (gasp) shaves. He was our smallest baby — now he wears Vince’s shirts that have shrunk … Continue reading