Half way there

Well, I've been singing it all week long.

Ohhh,  We're half way there
Ahhhh,   Livin' on a prayer
Take my hand and we'll make it - I swear
Ohhhhh, Livin' on a prayer

What?  Why?!  Isn't it obvious?

My baby boy is 9 years old!  9 years ago I brought him home from the hospital.  9 years from now he'll be heading off to college or work, or whatever the future holds.  My time with him is half over.  Are you crying?  I'm crying.  

How can he be ready for all this world will throw at him in 9 short years?  We have so much work to do, so many prayers to pray, so many memories to make.  





We had a great week;  Rosie and I surprised him at school with cupcakes and his great grandad came down for a visit.

But, he was most excited about his lock-in birthday party.  He says it was epic.

Minute-to-win-it games.

Shaving cream battle.

Fourteen little boys, enough junk food to keep every dentist in town in business for years and the whole church to destroy explore all night long.

He says he wants to do it again exactly the same way next year.  We say, only if Daddy and I are both victims of serious head injuries and have no memory of the events of that night.

By the way, have I mentioned Zadie's birthday is this week, too?  My poor Zadie, by the end of the summer birthday marathon I'm too tired to blow up a balloon.  Maybe next year we'll do her party first so that we're not all sugar loaded zombies by the time her big day rolls around.  

The good news is I think she enjoyed Andy's as much as he did.  Maybe that counts for something.