Weekend

Barefeet. 70 degrees.  Blue skies.  Digging in the garden.  Boiling sap.  An Irish concert.  Mud pies.  The return of Frankie and Frieda.

Jackson still isn't feeling better.  Thank goodness we had these things to momentarily distract us (Jackson included).  Every so often he would pop up off the couch and resume his cheery nature and run outside to play.  At which point Ryan and I would conclude that this time he must finally be on the mend.  But inevitably a few hours later he would end up right back where he started.

I think one of the hardest things about being a parent is knowing something is wrong and not knowing what it is.  We are going to the doctor again later today so perhaps we will figure it out then.