Damon had a pretty good birthday, they won their baseball game, we ate at Fuddruckers and E spent the night. He got a loose fitting UA shirt and shorts, money, a baseball that is suppose to measure speed and I net to chip in to. We're talking about having a few kids spend the night in a few weeks for more of a birthday party....we'll see....
My mom is the best. She scrubbed my bathroom and my kitchen floor. Although not impossible one-handed it's not the easiest trying to keep stitches dry while scrubbing floors on your hands and knees. She scrubbed floors, cheered at Damon's baseball game (sometimes a little loud and embarrassing!), shopped with me, talked Damon into Fuddruckers because she knows he loves it, cheered at another baseball game, chipped golf balls with Damon in to his new gift, played with the dog, and lost her sunglasses. My mom packs more into a single day than anyone I know, young or old. She's the hardest working person I know and she's been that way her whole life. Although we had our moments while I was growing up (I had a snotty early teen years, I know that's hard to believe), I admire her, respect her and love her very much.
My dad, what can I say...I've always been a daddy's girl. I watch him at Damon's game be supportive and he loves being there. He likes to get right in your face (in Damon's case right behind home plate as he was pitching) and look directly at you as if he's trying to send you a message: "I believe in you, but if you make a bad throw I love you anyway and the next one will be better." He's always been my rock, my support, my cheering section and I love that he's now in Damon's corner. He's always the one to talk, not yell; to reason, not argue; to encourage, not scoff. I hope I can be half the parent to Damon, as he was to me. I love my dad.
My biggest regret this weekend, I some how didn't get a picture of Damon and his Grandpa together. And I didn't get one of he, grandma and grandpa...I've been slacking in my camera duties!