It still makes me cry to think of how Georgie came to us. The state he was in and how little and weak he was. But he never gave up. The second that little guy could stand up, he was up, ready to go. He ate like a piggie, drank his water -- he WANTED to make it. And he did. Two years later, he's strong, smart, sweet, a little bit crazy, but the rest makes up for it. There's nothing better than Saturday mornings when Georgie decides to grace us with his presence on the bed and he settles in for a little mom and dad snuggle. Watching him stretch and get cozy (even when I end up getting punched in the face) makes it all worth it.