My pal Evan, who was born at 31 weeks at just over 4 lb, is now larger than my 15 month old daughter. I'm so happy. And so stinkin cute. And he has sticky-uppy hair, which is the best kind for a baby to have.

Upon the family's rendition of The Joker during dinner tonight:

"momma, what's a sinner?"
"someone who misbehaves or does bad things"
"like eat marshmallows (huh??)"
"no like hurt people."
"oh. what's a lover?"
"someone who loves. Like I love you."

I'm making him a mix cd for his room but it's going to be a goodie. The Joker, Satan is my Motor, Jump and Move.

Also, I felt like today might have been my last day. Icy roads, dozens of cars off the road, me stopped on a super icy bridge with several fire trucks around. I owe God a church visit this weekend. Also, God, if you're reading, sorry for negotiating. I'm a sucker when I am envisioning unstrapping my babies in an ice water filled car.