Silly Baby

December 5th

Action-Packed Birthday Footage

We didn't have a big party for Max's 1st birthday. I harbor a small amount of guilt about that, but only because a kid's 1st birthday is made out to be such a "big deal". Really, as parents, we should be enjoying the year or two reprieve from birthday and holiday madness. He's ONE. He's excited when we sing "This Old Man" three times in a row. And presents? I can give the kid a subscription card from a magazine and he carries it around like its an Academy Award.

The reason the one year mark gets so much press (thank you mama friend Laila for hitting the nail on the head) is because its the one year anniversary of when you became a parent. Therein lies the meaning, the excitement, the nostalgia, and in my case, the tears shed when it began to snow on Max's birthday (the first snow last year was the day Max was born. Those little snowflakes drifting through the air last Thursday afternoon were like a punch to the emotional solar plexus for me. Ah, hormones.)

That being said, we didn't just put Max to bed early and do a shot of tequila to mark a successful baby-rearin' year (success=everyone's still alive). I made a meal. Homemade bbq chicken (thats right, sauce from scratch), cornbread, greens n bacon and carrot cupcakes with cream cheese frosting (also from scratch). I was overly proud of the meal as cooking ain't my forte...my goals for dinner are simplicity, nutrition and relative tastiness. In that order of priority. I've also never made cupcakes in my life, even from a box. It took me all day and every dish in the house, but it was worth it. We had Dave's parents over and opened a few presents (thanks to everyone who showed admirable restraint not overloading us with stuff), then did the requisite singing and candle-blowing out. It was delightful.

I recorded the highlights of the evening on camera and am sharing them below. The footage is pretty gratuitous but its for the aunts, uncles, grandparents and friends who couldn't be here but really wanted to. So put on your party hats, blow up some balloons, sit back and enjoy Max's 1st birthday festivities! (Please tune out my inane mama-chatter in some of these. And my singing. Parenthood really does make you shameless, as I CRINGED when I reviewed these but am posting anyway for the sake of the fans. Eesh.)



Present opening. Globe from Gramma K and truck book from Aunt Kathy and Uncle Dale.





I love the look on kids' faces when people sing Happy Birthday to them. Like, "Have you people gone MAD?"



Yes, I did say "top of the cupcake to you". And if you know that reference, you're as big of a dork as I am.

Thanks

I've been reflecting a lot lately. As the new parent of a small child, one receives a lot of advice. Probably the most oft-heard is to "live in the moment" and appreciate the small things.

So what am I grateful for this holiday season? I could list the many things, but I think its easier to sum it up with this-I couldn't tell you the last time I had a bad day. I've had bad moments, bad hours even (particularly the wee ones). But I honestly can't remember the last time I've gone to bed thinking, "Thank God this day is over." It struck me that this is what happiness IS; good, safe moments that quietly outnumber those of suffering, anxiety or sorrow. I am lucky, and I am grateful for this happiness. I know there will be hard times and I cannot hope to avoid the sorrow that life inevitably brings. But I can hope to get through the bad and always return to this.

That said, I bring you a pictorial of Thanksgiving Day at the Small house. There should be more photos of our dinner with both sets of grandparents but someone forgot the SD card for the camera. Someone being me.


Our wildlife tree! Since the idea of a live Christmas tree in the house with a one-year old inspires visions of constant "no"-ing and/or lights and ornaments on only the upper half, we decorated a tree in the backyard with deer corn, peanut butter birdseed pinecones, barley biscuits and cranberry garland. Hopefully we'll get lots of critters to the banquet and it'll be a fun yearly tradition.


What Thanksgiving would be complete without shooting?





And finally, what I am most thankful for, every moment of every day:

Oh Deer

Its that time of year again. Deer hunting season is upon us. People who don't live in Wisconsin (or the Midwest really), probably don't understand the magnitude of gun season. Particularly up north. I'm trying to be more positive about hunting this year. I still dread seeing the bodies in trucks and strung in the trees outside deer camps. I'm hoping the doe and her two babies who visited our yard all summer survive the bullets. I don't like the macho idiots gun season attracts. I'm annoyed about being unable to safely walk in the woods (no matter what any hunter says, it isn't really safe. Particularly with a small child.) And I'm very glad Dave isn't MIA for a whole week hunting.

However, I remind myself that deer hunting at its best, simplest and most traditional is practiced by thoughtful folks who eat the venison, tread lightly on the land, and kill with humanity and respect for the creatures whose lives they're taking.

As the island prepares for a flood of blaze orange and people from Illinois, Max and I took advantage of the (relatively) balmy temperatures (40+) and clear November sunshine; playing ball on the deck and then a visit to Daddy's job site to watch the machines. In a nod to the season, Max wore his camouflage onesie.


"WHAT'S happening to Bambi??!!!" (Sorry, couldn't resist a Bambi dig)

The Kindest Cut

My skills as a hairdresser were sorely tested this morning. I don't know if you have ever tried to cut an 11 month old's hair, but its not easy. Not easy at all. Even with Daddy holding him straitjacket-style in front of a rousing episode of The Wiggles (fairy dance, look it up), Max wasn't that keen on the comb and clippers around his face. (I wasn't keen on having to cut his sweet, soft, wispy little baby locks. There may have been a lump in my throat.) But it was necessary. His bangs had grown past his eyelashes and he kept scratching the backs of his ears because the hair was tickling them. So off it went. Blending was a challenge. I didn't want to take off any more than absolutely necessary so we ended up with sort of a mullet in the back. With all those obstacles, it turned out okay. Mostly he looks so grown-up.


There's still a lump in my throat.

Saturday