Happy Birthday Andrew

Three years ago.

We were feeding him through a syringe.

We had 2 hour shifts scheduled to sleep by him on the floor while he was tethered to the wall with a bilirubin blanket.

Somehow,

we didn’t break him.

Instead.

He brought us more joy that we could have ever hoped for.

And now.

We get to teach him all sorts of cool things.

Someday we hope that he’ll forgive us.

For this.

Maybe if he didn’t ask for a blue rocket ship cake,

Or if I was getting more than 3 hours of sleep at night,

Or if Pete hadn’t sent me to bed so that he could finish it by himself…it could have been better.

He didn’t seem to mind though.

He happily enjoyed his gifts.

While his Dad stumbled upon his old trumpet and played Taps.

Happy Birthday, Andrew.

You are our best.