85

Today we heading to Philadelphia for my Grandfather's birthday party. He's 85. It's suppose to be a surprise, so if you see him, please don't say anything. ;)

Last night at dinner Dave and I were telling Andrew about today's plans. Andrew has a limited idea of age. When asked how old he is, he says, "3 years old!" When we ask him how old Isaac is, he says, "Zero, three years old." As though "3 years old" was the standard. He told me I was 21 years old and Dad is 30 years old...which is spot on for Dave and 10 years off for me.

Anyway, all this talk with Andrew and thinking about my 85 year old grandfather made Andrew seem oh-so young. Still just in his first blinks of life. Fresh from heaven, as they say.

Goal for the party: Establish a perfect mom-photographer balance. Take some good shots, not too many, while still being present to my children and the extended relatives that I rarely see. Don't worry about looking dorky taking pictures, just take them, already. I usually chicken out with the photos during parties and then regret it. I have a photo already constructed in my mind of my grandfather holding Isaac. And whenever I pre-construct photos in my head, they never happen. A dangerous habit that ends up being more frustrating than helpful.

ok! Wish me luck!