Happy birthday, pink lines

This is how my memory works: I can remember what I wore to school on my first day of my sophomore year of high school. But, I have trouble remembering to make it to a hair appointment (even looking at the mop on my head in the mirror doesn't remind me). I can remember that on my 10-12th birthdays I had mexican food and a cherry chip cake, but I don't remember if I've already worn my red scrub pants earlier this week.  Random Memory Girl.

 So here's my newest: March 30, 2008. I stood in the doorway as Rob got groceries out of my car holding a stick with two pink lines. He came up to me wondering why my mouth was hanging open. It was the only time in our marriage I've ever been speechless. We proceeded to take two more tests. Surely 3 tests wouldn't be wrong. Once it sunk it, we just couldn't quit laughing.  Maybe we were giddy. Maybe the idea of us being grown up enough to be parents was laughable. Maybe, just maybe, we were a little nervous. I don't care if I'm crazy for remembering the day I took THE TEST or not. It will forever go down in my Random Memory Rolodex as the day our lives changed forever. And ever. And ever.

What a difference a year has made. Rylan is now 4 months 2 weeks old. His original hair has all fallen out. His head spent a few weeks looking as shiny as Mr. Clean, but now some blondish brown hair is growing back in. He is still trying to knaw his hand off in efforts to grow some teeth. He has taken to shouting in a high pitched voice the minute his bottle is done, then standing up during the burping process. Not sure what that's about. He had another rocky cold/asthma/post RSV illness that got him down for a little while. The doctor thinks the RSV in January upset his airway so that now everytime he gets a cold, he basically has an asthma situation. He was on antibiotics, steroids and albuterol updrafts. Poor thing. They are hoping he will grow out of it.

I like to play with my gym from the side with one sock off

He keeps tricking us into thinking he's got the sleeping all night down. One night of seven hours in a row is followed by a couple nights of 2am eating and smiling. Smiling and eating for him, grunting with half slit eyes for mom or dad.

Thanks for the football, Aunt Tam and the bumbo, Zoe. Now I can hang with this fruit bowl.

 A post bottle meltdown

We are totally loving this cooky, crazy, crate of cuteness. He seems to have inherited mom's chattiness, still 100% dad in looks.  

I supported my friend, Parker, at the Heart Walk 5k.