Luke had his third year check-up yesterday. We didn't go to the doctor one time in the last 12 months, and yet Luke was afraid at the doctor's office and tried to run away when his name was called. But he did OK. A little squirmy with the height and weight measuring (38 pounds and over 39" tall; 90th percentiles) and very wary of everything, but we walked away with the happy news that he's totally healthy.
The other morning Luke built this "work computer" out of various toys.

And here he is the other night in a bubble bath. We let the jet tub jets run for a while.

I have a little story. The morning after Luke was born, a woman came to our room at St. Vincent's hospital to ask how I was doing and whether I had any prayer requests. Had I been expecting her visit, I would have had my prayer list ready. Instead, I said something like, "Well, I guess, I'm just grateful that everything turned out OK and that we have a healthy baby." "So you would like a prayer of thanksgiving," she said, "We don't get many of those."
I would like to say another prayer of thanksgiving for my beautiful boy. And I will try to remember this feeling when he is driving me absolutely crazy with his willful ways and whining.