5, 6, 7

Well, today my trouble maker Shannon is 6. I decorated the kitchen with multiple number 6's and red balloons last night before bed, then awoke this morning to an unhappy Birthday boy. Seems I should have decorated the living room, too, and why didn't I blow up the entire pack of balloons? (Note to self, hide the package so the boys don't know how many I purchased...) I tell ya, it's one of those days already.

We'll be taking him to a water park when it gets a little warmer to truly celebrate, and he'll be getting a new basketball hoop that will hopefully be installed in a timely manner. I told him that for dinner we can have whatever he wants, anything at all. "Whatever I want? Hmm... how about HOT DOGS!" he decided. Ugg. Boiled hotdogs, none the less.

Here he is with some of his (disappointing) decorations:

There is a bright side, though. For the next three months I won't feel the need to explain how my kids could possibly be the ages they are. I can just say, "Oh, the boys? They're 5, 6, and 7."