I promise I will take some pictures soon. Yesterday, Miss Boo's third birthday, my hands were busy. Some of you got cell phone pictures; I promise I'll get some nice ones over Thanksgiving.
As compensation, here is a written account of the birthday.
Sometimes I think that reading blogs can be a little hazardous. At least, moms reading mommy blogs--it's sort of the same thing as reading cookbooks or thrift or organization books written by other moms--you tend to think that the picture you have of this person's life is the whole picture. They look really good, and by comparison you do not, and so you get discouraged.
Well, I hope you know that the picture you get of our lives on this blog isn't always the whole picture. Mostly because I'm lazy and don't write about everything, but often because unconsciously I select the things that are interesting, fun, or overwhelming to write about (I try to consciously include the overwhelming, actually). So you don't see days like yesterday, where the potty situation devolved to requiring seven pairs of pants for Miss Boo and a screaming fit from Buddy in the car because he didn't want to poo in his diaper. But more of that anon.
I am including these moist details so you will know that I am not some great woman whose garden never fails, who always gets the dishes done promptly, and who can whip out homemade presents and cake at the drop of a birthday hat. I am a very pregnant woman who loves her kids, has to pace herself, and who finished Miss Boo's red birthday sweater at about 2:30 yesterday afternoon. Turns out she was just as pleased with it as if she had been able to unwrap it (I didn't have any wrapping either) at breakfast.
See, it's been, as I've mentioned, REALLY cold here, so cold that I didn't feel it was safe for me and the kids to venture out by ourselves. (Our usual excruciatingly slow progress across parking lots is dangerous in below zero weather with a wind chill that makes your face hurt.) So I didn't have any of Miss Boo's presents bought. I didn't even have a cake.
Usually I make birthday cakes, but we're leaving for Thanksgiving at the grandparents' tomorrow, and I didn't think we could eat a whole cake in two days (meaning mostly me and the Husband eating the cake, since the kids eat all of 1/4 piece). I also can't make fractions of cake recipies very well, since eventually you get into things like 1/32 teaspoons of things and are trying to separate an egg into thirds. So my brilliant idea was to take Miss Boo to a bakery and let her choose one of those tiny cakes.
Only it was very, very cold yesterday. Luckily the Husband suggested we just bundle the kids, keep blankies over them, and book it between the car and the store. Under his generalship, Mama's Birthday Fail turned into Miss Boo's "Best-Birthday-In-The-World-I-Love-My-Birthday". She got to go to Target and choose her own dolly, and then to Albertson's and choose her own cake (green frog-shaped) and dinner (frozen pizza). Besides the dolly she got a coloring book, markers AND crayons (decadence...), and a tiny electric keyboard (thanks Oma!). She slept with the dolly and wanted the markers first thing when she woke up this morning.
(Well, first thing she wanted was a bye-bye hug from Daddy, who was just stepping out the door to work, but the second thing was the markers.)
So in spite of Mama's lack of forehandedness and the blithe ignoring of potty chairs we did, the Lord turned it into a good day. I offer this to you as proof that even imperfect people get a lot of beauty from Him whose "faithful love endures forever".
He's certainly blessed me with a sweet little girl, and I still can't get over it, even three years later.
Cheers,
Breanna
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