Happy Birthday to my sweet little Weeman. You are such a precious blessing in Mommy and Daddy’s life. I love you more than words and continually question why on earth God chose me to be your mommy. If that isn’t grace I don’t know what is. (That would be in my favor, not yours. Sorry.) Today we woke up and ate spicy sausage and eggs, (mommy’s favorite), and Daddy and I took one for the team and took you and your big brother to Disneyland. Aside from a minor hiccup, mommy failing to charge the phone thus being left with no entertainment, form of communication with the outside world, things went A-ok today.
Thank you for being so well behaved. A fringe benefit of today was a sweet little ego boost. Disneyland held almost as many ill behaved children and parents as it did viral & bacterial diseases, combined. The screaming match between the 3 year daughter {drinking coke} and her mother, the mother that verbally abused her son at the park, the boy spitting on everyone, and the people that were allowing their daughter to sleep in the stoller with the mickey ears strapped around her mouth so that she would pass out from carbon monoxide poisoning made me look a little better than average. I only flipped out and started shrieking all ape like when you or your brother touched the ground or started playing with the trash cans. Or other peoples nether regions. That was a really awkward 30 minute line.
We have discovered 3 things today:
*You don’t like bubbles as much as we had hoped. Finding Nemo was more like finding-an-end-to-this-never-ending-ride with a crying birthday boy.
*People visiting from foreign countries do not know too much about personal space. Or old spice.
*The reason we haven’t seen fanny packs or birkenstocks for the past 10 years is because they are all hiding at the happiest place on earth.
Pictures to come. I love you sweet Weston Charlie. xo
