Wednesday is Peter's birthday and it's a biggie: 30. Yep, our baby boy is older than I (also Brad) was when he was born. (Also older than I was when John was born and the same age I was when Mary was born. Don't want to make you feel old Peter but, oops.) He was born at Sharp Memorial Hospital in San Diego on September 19, 1988 at 5:08 p.m. Since that day, now almost 30 years ago, our lives have never been the same and they've never been better. (Just like we tend to forget the worst about childbirth, in saying our lives have never been better I'm also tending to forget the worst about middle school.) He'll celebrate over in Morocco with Jessa and I'm sure she'll be a big part of making his day extra special, and it of course warms my heart to know he has such a wonderful partner. We'd love to be there with him but we're happy knowing that he's still our boy and that he has a terrific life. When all of the kids were born we always said that what mattered was that they were happy and healthy. Thirty years later that's still so true. Peter, we've loved you forever and we love you more than you'll know. Happy Birthday!
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