The boys turned 44 months old on the day we left for a week-long trip to Virginia. It was the second-most exhausting trip of my life (the first being the road trip Kristina and I took to San Antonio with them when they were 5.5 months old) and started with Miles barfing all over me on the plane. Good times.
Poor Andrew. He is horrified by the bags under my red, puffy eyes. I shouldn't have subjected a sweet tiny baby to that. (I burned my eyeball with the wrong contact lens solution shortly before this photo. Oops.)
Jack babysits while the boys take a bath. He's trained as a lifeguard, so I was pretty confident leaving the boys in his care for a few hours.
