Three years ago this week we were having dinner with my Dad at the restaurant up the street when he was in town for a conference. We'd just refinished the hallway and Jeff was installing a handrail. The house was in construction shambles and I never thought we'd see our way out:
2 years ago, we were painting the living room. The whole upstairs was more or less finished, and we'd recently installed the coffered ceiling in our dining room (after 2 long months of climbing ladders over and over to drill, caulk and paint). We were deciding whether to try for a baby after getting back from Guatemala and finding that Wamu was on its way down.
One year ago, we were getting out of the bath. We were also spending a lot of time carrying you around facing out because it was the only thing that kept you happy.
Tonight you are in your room with your Dad happily reading The Foot Book by Dr. Seuss while we wait for Aunt Katherine in LA to call us on Skype.