The boys turned 3 this weekend! And we had a "real" party for the first time. Bouncehouse/waterslide monstrosity and all. The boys Zach and Charlie were in hog heaven on the slide. We learned that Cooper apparently suffers from PTSD resulting from a trip down a waterslide at a birthday party last year. (Which we caught on film, of course):
No way this ruined Coop's birthday, though. He was happy as a clam in his baby pool.
The party was a success. Great friends, happy kids, good food, and with the exception of the red frosting handprints on my butt (thank you Zach), it was a wonderful day.
Unbelievable that it's been three years since they arrived on the scene. Time seemed to move in slow-mo for the first first year-and-a-half. I never thought we'd stop worrying about whether they'd reach their milestones, and I never thought that damned trach would come out. Now as I look back at it all, it seems a total blur. As though everything happened within the past months. I worry that if I blink, they are going to be graduating from high school. Phew, what a ride it has been so far.
So at the end of the very busy day, we were upstairs in the playroom, watching TV before bedtime. The boys noticed the deflated bouncehouse out the window: