On Friday, we celebrated Jack's birthday. And as usual for one of our parties, we started out with a small barbeque and ended up with a neighborhood bash. I don't know why I don't learn to just expect the bash. It's not that I mind it so much, I just find it a little stressful as an introvert. Justin prefers a bash and would have one every weekend if I could stomach it. It was a great party. We didn't tell Jack that he was getting a bouncer with a slide for his birthday. When he walked outside, he said, "Oh....my....gosh...." (To our credit, we've cleaned up our language.) Then he turned to J and said, "Thank you, Daddy." Too cute. He truly had a wonderful time and is still recovering. He jumped and jumped and jumped. Then we all sang him happy birthday and he squealed with delight at the end. It was truly the sweetest thing. We were blessed to have Auntie Emmy, Grandma and Auntie Harriet in for the weekend, which was the best present of all.
We've had the most challenging year by far as parents, thus far, anyway. But Jack is really coming into his own. He's off to preschool and things are going swimmingly well. He's really growing up and J and I cannot believe that he is 3 tomorrow morning at 4:09 a.m. (After 16 hours of labor, mind you.) Jackson Wyatt is the best thing that ever happened to us.
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