Kudos to Waylon for being the most easy-going baby traveler a girl could hope for. Faces of patients and staff alike lit up every time I brought him to the hospital. There is no maternity ward there, so I guess they don't see babies too often. I kept joking that instead of a therapy dog, he should be the resident therapy baby, brought around from room to room to lift everyone's spirits. I hope he lifted his Pop Pop's spirits anyway.
I plan to continue posting here, catching up on old stuff and ignoring present family health problems, if for no other reason than to cheer up my mom when she gets home and turns on her computer.
We passed mile after mile of beautiful purple clover fields on the way down. I'm sure losing my life while my sister abruptly jerked the van over to the side of the road and had me pop out of the sunroof to snap this photo would have been worth it, right?
Here's Waylon in his Cardinals gear, worn especially for my dad, enjoying some play time on the hospital floor with Nana. That's the great thing about babies; they have no idea.
First Shakespeare's trip!
(Oh, and you can catch a glimpse of my recently-dyed-brown hair here.)
The creepy doll we left behind in my mom's bed to give her a laugh/freak her out.
Wow, Waylon even still looked pretty cute and cooperative after hanging out in a Denny's parking lot in Springfield, IL for an hour while we pulled off the road for good cell reception to talk to the health insurance company. What a trooper.
I do have some good ones of Waylon and my dad, but for now I'm keeping them to myself.
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