It Works Out in the End

Got a pleasant and somewhat surprising call from Weaver (!) this morning.  She was standing outside the Shadetree Public School with Jack waiting to unleash him upon third grade for the first time, and called purely to make the observation that he was no longer the shortest and tiniest kid in his class.  Was a good feeling.  When your child is born so severely premature, there is a sense in which you never stop thinking of him in that way, as somebody who has to be defended.

Still wish I was there with him.