Birthday Blast-Off

At 5:55 p.m. last Friday, I was able to toast that I had, once again, made it through my child's first year. Sweetie Pie turned one, and I no longer am the mother to an infant. It is both exciting and bittersweet, as I divest myself of baby things, certain that yes, we are indeed done with babyhood. This past year was so much easier than my first year with Doodles, but at the same time, I feel cheated: Sweetie is on the verge of toddlerhood and I feel like I missed so much. She's this fiery, spunky little girl with a mind of her own. She doesn't like cow's milk; she likes to try to make people laugh by saying, "Achoo!"; she can count to three (even if she has no idea what the numbers mean--"one, ooo, eeee!"); she hasn't met a stair or a slide that she can't scale; she hasn't found a food that she won't devour. She's not a baby blob anymore and I don't know where it all went.


So we had our birthday bash. Doodles got his rocket cake (chocolate, of course) and Sweetie had a Saturn cake (thank goodness I didn't plan on a Pluto cake!) (names blotted out, which is why the cakes look a little funny here). The party was as much of a success as could be expected with toddlers high on sugar and babies high on sugar (did I mention that Sweetie has discovered that she likes cake? Now that's a surprise, huh?), and parents high on sugar (and beer). Lots of noise, lots of running around. Not too much damage (although Doodles's grandfathers did bop an innocent toddler on the head during a highly competitive Frisbee game). It was all good, but I'm happy I don't have to do it again for another year.