The week of birthdays is underway. I was pretty psyched that my third-hour class brought donut holes to celebrate my 28th yesterday, and Shef was ecstatic about the load of balloons he got from adoring friends, parents, and grandparents this afternoon. Of course, if he’d have been agreeable enough to cause a labor of 16 hours or less, we would have shared a birthday; but I guess we each prefer our own days in the sun.

Sadly, Mr. Two has been acting his age up a storm of late, and has gotten a couple of less-than-stellar reports from daycare. He hasn’t been listening, they tell me. For example, Dawn asked him to go into the dramatic play room yesterday, and instead of doing that, he went into the hallway, covered his eyes, and pretended not to see or hear her.

We’re hoping this stage will pass, or at least that it will fade in and out at a sort of reasonable interval.