If I was smart

It's a no sleep night for me tonight. Grady is fussy and won't let me put him down, and I've been trying since 11. Evan is coughing (though if it's a cold or something, it's just in his throat). He came in our bed at quarter to four and I decided that was it and came downstairs. Hopefully Mike will still be able to sleep, even with a new bed mate.

Thanks to everyone who sent good wishes Mike's way. He's not really better so much as we're managing. We try to find things for him to eat that don't cause pain, and I try my best to let him rest when needed. He keeps apologizing to me for being sick, as if it's something he can control. He feels badly about leaving me on my own with the boys all the time. I feel badly that I can't do more to help him not feel like crap. So there we are.

Grady's doing well, aside from the crankiness tonight. He's getting ridiculously fat--dimples in the elbows, big creamy thighs, the whole nine yards. It's very sweet. He's also in the process of moving up from 0-3 to 3-6 month clothes already. Is this normal? Even if it's not, I'm secretly kind of glad. Now he'll actually get to wear some of Evan's cute summer outfits that I feared we wouldn't get to see again.

Evan is busy as ever. Each morning, he starts the day with a cheery greeting, and then proceeds to tell you what he wants to do that day. Usually it's "take a long ride in the green car". This has recently been edited to add "to get an ice cream cone". Suddenly, that which he's hated forever has become a favorite treat. He prefers the brown kind though (of ice cream, not cone) and is surprisingly a fairly neat eater when it's not 90 degrees.

If Evan had his way, every day would include a long ride in the car, a trip to Waldameer with all his grandparents, a Happy Meal, a walk on the beach, hitting a few balls with Daddy and an ice cream cone. I bet my days might look pretty similar if I had any say in the matter.