Every year on June 29th, I remember driving to the hospital in the middle of the night, Linda complaining about the bumps, and waiting what seemed like forever for Nico to be born. Hard to believe it was eleven years ago. I can still picture him swaddled in his red blanket with a goofy South American hat on, in his purple jogging stroller. So now he cries less, and drools less (most of the time). A few more teeth, a little more hair, more interesting conversation -- I guess he turned out pretty well.

Happy Birthday, kiddo!