Twelve years ago we were visiting Disneyland, and I was nine months pregnant. It was actually the night before today. We had just arrived at Disneyland and my then 2 1/2 year old was excited and giddy. We made a beeline to the Hungry Bear Inn with some great friends to scoff down burgers at 6:00 p.m.
I stood up to exit the eatery and my water broke. It didn't gush, so I told everyone that we were going to stay and enjoy the park. After all, we had just arrived. We left the park at 11:00 p.m., went home, and went to bed. At 3 a.m. I decided that I should go to the hospital. Our very first boy arrived at 1:19 p.m.
The balloons are scattered around, the "Happy Birthday" sign is hung, the presents are wrapped and my large boy is anticipating chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast and dinner at Olive Garden. He has never eaten there, and is quite excited about his inaugural visit.
His black eye is a distant memory and he has now moved on to wiggling his two loose teeth. He hasn't lost any teeth since the second grade and he is one thrilled sixth grader.
A birthday, and a visit from the tooth fairy all in one week is quite possibly too much for one boy.
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