Can I just tell you that I just got a Mother's Day card in the mail from my little brother, and it made me sort of tear up?
John turned 30 on Saturday, and I still can't believe that. It seems like not that long ago that he was running around in Winnie-the-Pooh footy pajamas. Now it's his nephew who likes to slide around on the kitchen floor in Winnie-the-Pooh footy pajamas.
Anyway, we had a lovely Mother's Day here yesterday. Well, except for the fact that William woke up very early yesterday morning with a major asthma flare-up and a low fever. The boy has quite the sense of timing, doesn't he? We hadn't heard wheezing that bad from him in a long, long time. I guess I should just be glad that my Mother's Day did not include a trip to the ER for nebulizer treatments. These are the times when I'm glad that David takes care of sick kids for a living. A dose of oral prednisone and a bunch of doses of inhaled albuterol and flovent later, William seemed to be doing much better. Thank goodness. And he's even better today: only a half-dose of oral pred today.
Here is the traditional Mother's Day photo of mother and child:
And another one:
And one more:
William was wearing his Aaron Wyckoff outfit: the yellow button-down shirt and khaki pants. However, unlike Aaron Wyckoff (his grandaddy), William did not have shoes on. And his shirt's not tucked in. But close enough. Ironically, Aaron was not wearing his yellow button-down shirt when he and Diane came over for the big Mother's Day cookout yesterday afternoon. I guess I should have saved that outfit for Father's Day, but I just couldn't resist. And I had to put something on him since, until the picture was taken around 5 p.m., William was still wearing his pajamas, stained with Motrin, oral pred, and other assorted toddler detritus.