Let's throw it back to June, shall we?
My baby turned two!
Which is really just bananas because he's my baby and shouldn't he still be sleeping on my chest and allowing me to smooch his chunky neck all day every day?
Yeah, neither of those things happen without a fight when you try them on toddlers.
Sigh.
The big day came just a few weeks after we'd made the big move to Seattle, so our celebration was fairly low key.
I spent the night before the 14th blowing up balloons, unraveling streamers and watching Pretty Little Liars.
The birthday boy woke up to a balloon-filled wonderland (must to the dismay of our neighbors below, I'm sure).
And of course we had our traditional birthday donuts for breakfast.
Thank heaven for Top Pot.
James's only request for his birthday: see "howsies"
I managed to find a working farm in Bellevue (and it was free!), so we spent the afternoon with the howsies there.
It was a beautiful property and the kids were in paradise.
It was one of those afternoons that was pretty close to perfect.
One of the things I've loved most about moving to Seattle has been watching my kids rely on each other for support, interaction, play, friendship, yada, yada, yada.
They are truly best friends.
Well, frenemies would probably be the more accurate term.
But when they're being sweet, I'm so happy I could burst into song (and sometimes do, just to embarrass/annoy them).
Back to the point.
The party raged well into the evening when Reece got home from work.
Lola whipped up a pretty killer pizza, James made sure the cats had party hats and we all found great joy in our Cupcake Royale treats.
Oh Jimsie, how we adore you.
Your constant chatter.
Wha you doooeeeeen?
Ont (insert basically anything here - nana, tweets, shubowl, meewk, bink)
Aaaawwww
Lub you, mabbo
In sceeeerrd
Where sissy are?
I'n runnin!
Your sweet (and slobbery) smooches
Your lightning-fast pace (I'm exhausted 99-percent of the time)
Your complete adoration of your sister
Your unwavering devotion to driving your sister insane
The way you love the cats so hard we're afraid you might kill them
The way you try to smooch yourself out of trouble
Your obsession with your little blue shovel
The way you sing "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star"
Your uncanny ability to sniff out treats
The way you are still, at heart, a complete mama's boy
Want to know a secret?
Disciplining you is near-impossible for me, because all you have to do is give me that look and I'm just toast.
We love you so much baby boy.
Even though you're a tiny terrorist most of the time.
A sweet, lovable, handsome, tiny terrorist, to be exact.
Happiest birthday to our guy!
(three months after the fact...)
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