Happy Birthday to my first (and always) baby!

First, I'll allow you a moment to scrape your jaw off the floor... Three blog posts in a month from me? Unheard of. Second, I'll assure you that you have no need to try to get used to this frequency of posting. Third, I'll tell you that my baby turned two this week, and I am feeling all the typical, totally cliche emotions that a mother talks about whenever her first child has a birthday.

Rowan's birthday was earlier this week. He decided that he absolutely HAD to be in my presence at the precise time he was born two years ago, and went ahead and woke up at 6:30. It was cute, and this time I am actually not being sarcastic. I decided that mothers don't get enough recognition on their children's birthdays, considering all the contracting and squeezing and other stuff-ing that they do to bring a baby into the world, so I bought myself a Frosty to show myself some appreciation. (I would highly recommend this tradition to you other mothers in the world, especially when your child's car seat is still rear-facing and you totally don't have to share with him while you drive home from work.)

We had a little party for him yesterday. Please don't be sad that you didn't get invited. I am not a "hugely elaborate child's birthday party with an absurdly long guest list" planner. If you are, great. But I am clinging for dear life to the remaining years (months? days?) when a bag of balloons and a single slice of cake is the World's Greatest Event to my child.

He did get to start the day off right- wearing his Nemo costume and licking beaters while I made his cake.


We basically duplicated everything we did for his first birthday party, starting with the Margherita pizza.


And the decor. Last year I made cupcakes and topped them with pictures from his first year of life. It is my favorite birthday project ever, and even though I am usually scrambling the day of the party to order prints online, cut them out, etc., I still love having an excuse to sit for a while and look at sweet pictures of my sweet boy living the past 365 days of his sweet life. My intention was to make this a cake topper, but the letters ended up being large and heavy, and I didn't want to kill the cake. Still cute, no?


And then the presents happened. Have you ever watched a child open gifts in the crazy, greedy, almost bloodthirsty manner which most kids do and thought to yourself, "Huh. When did that kid get so spoiled and insane when it comes to opening gifts?" I have discovered the answer, and that is, at his or her second birthday party. Because last year, he could have cared less. He still wasn't super into toys, other than balls, so Seth and I did most of the opening for him. This year, he would open a gift and want to sit down and look at it/play with it (you know, actually appreciate it), but we had to rush him along to the next box so people wouldn't get bored watching five presents be opened in three hours. So I felt like a jerk, and I felt like we were teaching our kid exactly what you hope they never learn when it comes to birthdays and gift-y holidays- "Just get the wrapping paper off, grunt your thanks in the direction of the gift-giver, and move on to the next one!" Oh, well.

All that being said, he got some really great gifts that we certainly appreciate. And he loves all of them. And this morning it was SOOOOOOOOO easy for me to get ready for church, because he was basically mesmerized by his new things, allowing me all the time I needed to do my hair and makeup without him getting bored. So, thank you, family!


My parents gave him a blowup ball pit. It has Toy Story characters all over it. It elicited a "WOW..... COOOOOOOL!" from him when he walked into the family room this morning.


And Seth's parents gave him a Buzz Lightyear doll (excuse me, "action figure"). So far we have avoided meltdowns when it's time to put Buzz to bed while Rowan naps, eats, goes to church, etc. Here's to hoping that lasts. Like, forever.



And here's to hoping that the next time I pop my head into his ball pit and try to take a cute picture with him, he doesn't tell me to "Go away!" Yep, that phrase seemed very helpful when he first learned it and Linus would try to steal his food from him. Now that he's opting to use it on us when we bug him, it is slightly less charming.



"Alone at last, Buzz... I thought she would never leave..."


So thanks again to all our awesome family (and our brother's girlfriend and her twin sister) for helping our boy celebrate 730+ days on this earth. We love him so much. I am sure I don't talk about how great he is often enough, either because I am hesitant to sound boastful or because I am part robot and lack the standard human emotions necessary to speak kindly about one's child. But he is really a wonderful, special, hilariously awesome kid, and we are so blessed to be his mom and dad. Love you so much, Rowdog! Happy birthday!