When I was digging around old memory books I came across my first letter to Santa! It was from 1985...so I was about....hmm....barely 9 years old. When I look back on it now I can see that it is (of course) my dad's writing.
What a good sport he was---but that's a dad's job, right!?
My letter asks him to check yes or no if he missed me. What a nerd I was...or am! :)
I can't get my boys to write letters to Santa. They must be pretty sure that Santa is coming. I can't wait until the year they are old enough to appreciate what a lump of coal is so "Santa" can put some in their stocking!
(Page 2 of the letter with a response from "Santa.") I like how I signed my name "Katie" but Santa still addresses me as "Katherine!"
That Stop Wasn't On My Itinerary....
So the Hogue's made it to Florida for our first official family vacation. It was Sawyer's first plane ride....and Simon's first plane ride that he can remember. We were excited....the boys were stoked. We had everything we needed! But it seems that Sawyer packed something with him that wasn't on our checklist: a big case of pneumonia. Yes, the little fella made it almost one whole day in Florida before he started heading downhill fast. Our 2nd day in Orlando we were in the Urgent Care south of Cocoa Beach. (By the way, to see a doctor more quickly, it helps if you vomit all over the waiting room in front of the receptionist. Little tip for ya) After chest x-rays they advised us to head to the ER in Melbourne, where they eventually admitted him to the hospital. So, we had 3 night deluxe accommadations at the Holmes Regional Medical Center. The little whipper snapper was a trooper though! The nurses loved him, thankfully, and made us all feel right at home. We were going to send postcards out with pictures of the hospital since we spent 40% of our trip there...but they didn't have any. Imagine that!Hmmm.....maybe its something they should consider.
When I was digging around old memory books I came across my first letter to Santa! It was from 1985...so I was about....hmm....barely 9 years old. When I look back on it now I can see that it is (of course) my dad's writing. What a good sport he was---but that's a dad's job, right!? 
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