The Del Monster turned three years old at 7:06 am this morning.
Three years ago, on July 9th, we went blueberry picking. My back hurt, my hips ached, but we needed blueberries.
It was Del's official due date, but he was not making any noise so off we went to Wanatah. The lady at the counter took one look at me and said, "If you go into labor, don't stop to pay for your berries, just go!"
On July 10th, I woke up at 5:30 am, needing to well, how do I put this delicately? Poop.
Not so unusual, except that it was waaaay too early in the morning to wake up for that. Took a shower and tried to brush my teeth, but for some strange reason my knees kept buckling and I couldn't stay standing long enough to brush all the pearly whites. What was wrong with me? Oooooooh, that.
I woke Mike up, we piled in the car, saying goodbye to Abuela who was here to help with kiddos and arrived at Porter Memorial at 6:43am. The Delchi was born not long after.
Del was a happy, sweet, smiley baby, only fussing when hungry or tired.
He changed things up when he turned two, though. Here's hoping that three will be the magical stop-with-the-whining age.
We celebrated the boy this July 4th, with some family and some friends and lots and lots of food.
It was hot and humid, but surrounded by love it was a perfect day.