May the Fourth Be With You came and went and I didn’t watch any of my favorite Star Wars movies (the first three, natch). Then Cinco de Mayo came and I didn’t make it to my favorite Mexican food restaurant. So now here we are on Revenge of the Sith day and I finally understand what it means to say, “Too much is not enough.”
Um, yeah, that’s not at all what this post is about.
Leelou officially turned 1 year old on Sunday, and it was a great day. We woke up with her and her sister in our bed, but they were happy and playing, as opposed to wrestling with each other like they usually do, which leads to disaster and/or crying.
Grandpa was here, Auntgee was arriving, and Thomas’ mom and aunt were coming to share the day. We went to Ryan’s for lunch, since Leelou loves that place. Every meal is like her first – you’d think we never feed her. She shovels it so fast, only about 50 percent actually makes it to her mouth. How many times have we seen the waiter/waitress shaking their head or glaring at us? Once at a Chinese restaurant, one of the owners actually face palmed himself at the mess she had made. But you know what, I don’t ever feel bad about it. No use crying over spilled milk and definitely not over spilled lo mein.
We get home and it’s time for presents. Grandma outdid herself this time, bringing along gifts for Annie, since 2 year olds aren’t very good at being left out. There was the push trike, the laughing baby (slightly creepy, not gonna lie), and the shapes puzzle. And then the biggest hit of the day – the ball pit. Oh yeah, no more trekking to Chick-Fil-A, people. We got our own ball pit in da house.
Sort of. Although Grandma wisely bought a bigger inflatable pool with three rings, she only bought 200 balls, which may sound like a lot, but didn’t even cover half of the space. So we threw in all the balls we had, including a collection of tennis balls that Annie is normally pushing around in her shopping cart, along with the larger balls that are more for kickball.
Daddy managed to make the setup process fun, as he quickly realized trying to blow up the pool himself wouldn’t work, so he opted to create a makeshift fort. Best fort ever, at least for two babies who’ve never been in a fort.
Then it was time for cake. When Annie turned 1, she had her own smash cake, but she was very delicate about it, tiptoeing around it, as she’s not really one to make a mess with her food. Leelou, as you’ve already figured out, thinks food is just one more toy to play with, and this cake never stood a chance. Once she got into a rhythm, she let it fly. And I mean that literally, as pieces flew onto the utility room door, the refrigerator and onto the floor. If we could all be that happy just eating and throwing cake, life would be a lot less complicated.
All in all, it was a great day. Until 2 o’clock in the morning. I had told Thomas that we’d probably regret letting Leelou eat that much cake, since her stomach is still adjusting to big people food. But at 2 a.m., Annie starts crying and is at my bedside and I can smell the stench from there. Poor baby had thrown it all up and all over – bed, pillow, blankets, clothes and hair. Joy.
Clean her up, change her clothes and my clothes (collateral damage), strip the bed, start the washing machine, lay out towels on our bed and get her in the bed. Thomas wisely opted to head to the guest bedroom. Less than an hour later, there’s that sound – you know the one, the one that warns you more vomit is coming. It was a great day, it was a super way, to spend some time together. (Yes, the Fresh Beat Band is the soundtrack of my life.)
But there was the upside, after cleaning everything one more time: I’m on my side facing Annie, who is on her side facing me. She puts her hand on my cheek and smiles, leaving it there as she closes her eyes. And she stayed like that until she rolled over in her sleep.
Best. Birthday. Ever.