Ruh-Roh

I promise I'll get around to blogging about our vacation, but the pictures are still on Ryan's laptop and the house is a mess and only half the suitcases are unpacked AND just to make things crazier, I think all three boys outgrew their current size of clothing while we were on vacation.

That means I need to pack away Luke's 0-3 clothes (luckily I took 0-3 and 3-6 with us on the trip!) and Zach's 5T (yes, he's 3 but has outgrown 5T!) shirts and 4T pants. Luckily, I don't have to pack up Jared's too-small clothes. I just have to transfer them directly to Zach's closet. Unfortunately, after the clothing migrates, I don't think Jared will have anything to wear!

Oddly, my point in creating this post has nothing to do with any of that. I popped on here to say that today I realized that many people are likely to think that I have named my children Jerry and Lou. And that makes me cringe with out-of-date disgust! I mean, really, has anyone named a baby Jerry in the past 20 years? But several people (usually elderly, but last summer it was a teenager!) have taken to calling Jared that. And I can only assume that someone will think that my baby is Lou, unless I say the "K" really loud. And either way, they'll think I'm a weirdo.

(To all those people out there named Jerry and Lou, please don't be offended. I'm sure you've noticed that no one is naming their babies that anymore. Their heyday is done and gone.)