Happy Birthday, Tim

In these days of Coronavirus, it is sometimes hard to tell if you are coming or going (see second picture in extras)

You are the youngest. You were the smallest when you were born because you arrived six weeks early. It was chaos at home when we brought you home. Matt had the chicken pox and we had to keep you isolated from him. Your room wasn't ready. In fact, it wasn't really even a room...more like an unfinished porch that ended up being your bedroom until you went away to college. Matt was still sleeping in what was going to be your crib. You were so small we could have put you in a shoebox, but somebody loaned us a carry cot. You were so small that your temperature was dangerously low when we finally got around to getting a thermometer and taking it, so we put a heating pad under your mattress, brought in portable heaters and cranked up the heat in the room. Dana donated several of her stuffed animals (and one live cat) to help keep you warm. 

In spite of all this, or maybe because of it, you have grown up to be the tallest member of the family and probably the most laid back. You are a wonderful husband and father and not a bad soccer coach. You seem to have developed a knack for dealing calmly with chaos and seeing the humor in even weirdest situations....

'Social isolation' is hardly the ideal way to celebrate a birthday, but I'm sure a nice long walk in the woods and a celebration at home will suit you fine. You began your life in isolation and you seem to be ending your first half century the same way...Here's a toast for a happy birthday and a year that ends in better circumstances that it is beginning. When we're allowed to let you all in our house again, we will celebrate properly with strawberries and Russian cream....