Roscoe is almost 16 weeks old. That can't be right, but it is. He's the sweetest human being I've ever met. Absolutely magical. I still stare into his face and can't believe it's real.
Henry is becoming this true kid, all full of grit and fun. He's creative, explosive, fascinating and kind. He's started sleeping in his own bed-- all night, by himself. I feel like that is some sort of miracle. He'll tell you stories, if you ask him. They're usually full of Avengers, bad guys and righted wrongs. This stage is so much fun.
As always, I feel like time is slipping through my fingers. I need to slow down; I confess I'm not doing a good job of doing that lately. Breathe. Pray. Forgive. Move forward. Get better. The usual.
