Happy eighth birthday to my tornado. To the loud noise with sticky stuff on it.
To the boy that pretends he needs help with his homework to get a little extra attention while I cook. To my story weaver, the artist with ink stains on his hands.
Taggert, you are so sweet. This year, my favorite thing is watching you become protective of your brother, and your friends like your brother. You have no idea what you are doing but it says so much about your heart.
I love that you and your brother have become best friends and I love listening to you two talk and play together. You and Treb are so awesome and it has been quite the adventure being mom to you both!
