We have a rental at the hospital.

That's right, ladies and gents. Little Reese had his second visit to the hospital on Monday (the first was for birth, but it still counts). We were admitted to the Children's Hospital Emergency Room on Monday evening for a cold that got way too out of control. Gavin had it first and shared it with his little brother (although all our hands were raw from all the washing and Gavin tried so hard to only kiss the very top of Reese's head or the very tips of his toes . . .). It attacked little Reese's lungs and after numerous visits to the doctor, she thought it was best to admit him just to be safe. An IV, oxygen and three days later, we're finally home. I can't think of anything worse than to see your five week old baby being poked for an IV (and missing three times . . .). The final diagnosis is a horrible virus called RSV. The nurse told us that Denver gets it particularly bad because of our high altitude. Remind me to never again have a baby during cold season.

The good news is that we're all home and doing much better. I think Reese is excited to sleep in his own bed tonight--I know I am.