Tristen is 9!

I truly can’t believe my little curly-headed baby is 9 years old. Really, truly can’t. I knew so little about anything when he was first born, and have learned so much through being his mother. He’s frustrated me, perplexed me, delighted me, astounded me, and brought me endless joy. He’s a wonderful big brother (when he’s so inclined), very responsible and helpful (again – when he wants to be), a natural athlete and video gamer, quiet and observant, and rowdy and goofy. He’s a carbon copy clone of his father – but I’m there in his eyes and dimples. I remember when he was a baby, thinking, “This baby/parenting stuff is easy! I could do this 10 times, no problem!” So thank you, Tristen. Thank you for being first. Because if your brother had been, there would have been no more. You’re a tough act to follow.
The Hyrulian Sword (Zelda). The “rock” for holding candles also disguised my super messy spots. No more carved cakes for awhile, kids – please?

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