The (slightly adjusted, but go with it) month of April has been exhausting (see: this). But we did it. And I capped it off with a much needed margarita. Thank you, Cinco de Mayo, for being at the end of all this hullabaloo.
It all started on April 4, when this little lady turned 5.
I'm not quite sure how she keeps getting older when I haven't aged a day (shut up), but here we are, staring in the face of kindergarten. Holy cow, she's going to full time, this is real school in just a few months. I need to stock up on tissues for that first day because I'm going to be a total mess. My babeh!
And then we capped it off with this guy making his First Communion.
Again with the getting older! Children, stop it right now. That's an order.
But seriously, we couldn't be prouder. For him, because he sat through a lot of extra lessons when he probably (OK, definitely) would rather have been playing, and actually grasping some of it. For me, for the same reason because I was the one trying to impart that knowledge most of the time while keeping his rear end in the seat. The moment after he received - he pumped his fist and whisper-yelled, "I did it!" - made it all worth it.
He also came out in that suit and declared that he looked like a man. Yes, Sammy, yes, you do.
May, blessedly, is much lighter on the obligations, at least as of today. Unless, of course, you notice the giant pile of laundry threatening to eat us all. I'm just going to avert my eyes, la la la...