We are just home from Owen and Abigail’s birthday party. I feel like I got run over by a smallish Mack truck. Possibly that is related to the fact that I was up all night baking eight thousand cupcakes (or two dozen. It’s hard work, people. Hard).

I know writing odes to one’s children on their birthdays is really the Thing To Do these days, but let me tell you, we are so totally rockin’ the photo essay instead (and by “photo essay” I do mean “random jumble of pictures”).

At least we will if anyone emails me pictures of the party.

I forgot to bring a camera.