If One More Person Tells Me 70 Days Is Not That Long

If someone tells me 70 days is not that long, they haven't been listening. See that one on the right in the picture? He's my middle one. Poor kid's not one of the big kids and not one of the twinnies. Reagan is the easy peasy independent one. My ONLY kid who does not think he is an only in our crazy family of seven. He's sweet and cuddly and smart and charming. He's also tough as nails. So when he started screaming bloody murder in pain as we were finishing dinner this evening, I circled the wagons and loaded the brood up in the car to head to my neighborhood er. I swear if they don't name a wing after my family I should at least get a Frequent Customer punch card. Long story short in between wiggling twinnies and over tired big kids, they were able to give Reagan some xrays and rule out the bad stuff. Thank goodness. Just add two more ailments to the strep that he was diagnosed with on Monday. Poor kid. But boy does he take my breath away. Sick or not.



A little box full of three new pieces to go with my rockin new Large Hobo Bag from Vera Bradley. Thanks for the cool new diaper bag, Mom. sigh...

This is my favorite piece du jour...

A little scrappy goodness to round out this random post...

Bye for now.