Baruch Hashem, everyone slept well last night (well, except for Yoav, who had been so tired he tanked up on caffeine too much, and then couldn't sleep till 2:30...). Oh, and I even forgot to mention that the darlin' pooped yesterday (Sarah Rochel, that is, just wanted to clarify which darlin'), which was her first on-shabbos poop, which meant it was our first on-shabbos-not-using-wipes-poop-clean-up, which was very damp but was indeed successful - hurray!
To the left, a picture of the child at 6:30 this morning, when she woke up from her long shloof. And to the right, a picture of today's outfit, including mildly absurd but totally adorable coordinating footwear.
Congrads to my Tattie (the proud Zayde) on becoming a licensed private pilot person! We knew you could do it! Now fly over here and see us (although do pack some extra fuel, cause methinks there aren't enough fueling stations in the Atlantic to see those little planes through).
Happy Mother's Day to all, that glorious Hallmark holiday highlighting the powers of marketing, a power only dwarfed by the power of mothering itself. Would you believe my daughter didn't even send me a card? I won't even talk about the lack of breakfast in bed. Harumph. Shoot, we'll keep her anyway.