My brother and his wife were in town and my sister and her family are going out of town so I decided to have a little celebration for the twins a bit early.
It was good preparation for the real day. You know, the one where I expect to cry all day (unless they frustrate me into forgetting I’m mourning) because my little 33 weekers are 3. And healthy. And smart. And sassy. And trouble. And I can’t bear to see them grow up.