And Then She Turned One

Happy Birthday to Pippa! Yesterday, but really she came into the world late at night so we can roll this celebration right on to the weekend.

In a fit of neurosis and school stress I decided to throw Pippa a party. When we realized our closest friends would all be in Germany (weird) we extended the guestlist and included most of Skip's office. Then I realized that we should invite some of Pippa's friends to HER party and invited a couple of play group families. Then I freaked out because there was no way all those people would fit into our house.

They fit (or a few people couldn't make it ;) ). Pippa loved every minute of it. She walked, independently, around chasing the boys so she could hug them. Well, hug or cling to them for life because she teeters as she walks. At some point we'll have to discuss personal boundaries and playing coy.

After her super sugary chocolate cupcake she proceeded to lead some cheers. Arms up! Yaaaay! Again and again and again! It's so fun to have fans.

Pippa Bean at 1 year old:

Has 2 teeth
Weighs 20 lbs
Height 29 inches
Loves to eat blueberries, popcorn, oranges, chocolate.
Knuffle Bunny is her favorite book.
Loves to play Peek-a-boo, Pat-a-cake, Momanuki, Twinkle Twinkle, Itsy Bitsy Spider
Noises she makes: dog bark, elephant trumpet, cow moo, sheep baa, lion roar
Words she says: uh-oh, up, book, da da, mom, hi

Hmmm. If I touch the flame will Mom be mad?

Well, this is awkward. My cake's down there.

I did eat it and it tastes so good. Round two please!

Now boys, this is how you throw.

Your turn!

Of course she never says or does any of that when other people are around.

Dirty Thirty

You know why they call it dirty thirty? It sneaks up on you. There you are mastering your 20s, feeling satisfied with what you don't know and fully capable of making mistakes, and wham! 30 kicks you to the curb and tells you to grow up.

I fought back. I wore hot pink pants all day long, was tardy for my test, ate veggies sticks (aka potato chips) like a teenager (aka as real veggies) and licked my lips until they were chapped because I refused to come in from the cold like the little kid I once was. Pippa helped by bringing back the 80s with her adorable legwarmers.

Yes, I spent 12-12-12 reclaiming my youth. And then, after making a birthday cake at 10:30 pm, I scrubbed my sink with lemon rinds (you can't waste an opportunity like that) and gathered my yarn to crochet. Conflicting. I rebelled against my inner grandma all day and when the party should've started my true colors bled through, in a lovely shade of old gray. Dirty thirty. It aged me right into retirement.

A Boy and His Shirt

A couple months ago was some guy's birthday. Said guy received a beautiful flannel shirt, perfect for his week long camping adventure following the birthday celebrations. Some girl lovingly wrapped the flannel shirt and presented the guy with the present early on the morning of May 12th.

Some guy blinked and waivered between ecstatic jumping and forlorn crying. While the guy appreciated the thoughtful gift he could not be convinced that baby blue looked manly. The girl lost the debate and repackaged the shirt so it could be returned.

The guy camped without his flannel. The girl hung her head in despair. A birthday gone awry.

One week passed. Then another. The girl found a familiar package in the mailbox. She recognized the awkward tape job and saw her name peeking beneath a few labels. Inside the package was the rejected flannel shirt. A jumbled return brought the flannel home. The girl presented the present with hesitation and a solid compliment.

The guy conceded and wore the shirt to work.

Beautiful. Fantastic. Amazing. swooned his coworkers. Some guy went home that night and kissed his wife for the the best shirt of the year. Said guy abandoned his own sense of fashion for life, appointing the girl his personal shopper.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

I know I know, why take a week to post a birthday review? Because at the end of Birthday Weekend, when the songs and salutations ended I broke down. Tears of age and I think some nonsensical babble about being old. Now some of you who have passed this milestone (every year is a milestone), you will smirk and sarcastically think it could be worse. Maybe it could, but it couldn't have been better. Before I freaked out I had a nearly perfect snowy celebration, and if I weren't so old I could have gone sledding, something I'd wished all 18 years in Lamar.

To start we visited the Pretty Part of Peoria uptown. This outdoor shopping mall is Utah.5 and makes me feel at home. It didn't hurt that I got to pick out all my birthday presents either. I'm a great shopper with other people's money.

On Saturday we recreated my youth. We had a pizza party! This excites me because there are two different chains that offer GF pizza. A treat that has failed when I tried making it myself. The toppings did not compare to my Grandma's colorful palate, but other than that it felt like home. After eating over half a pizza on my own I continued my glutenous state by visiting the second Pretty Part of Peoria, Peoria Heights, where the local shops held a Chocolate Walk in my honor. Every store had chocolate samples and I think the smile behind the owners said Happy Birthday! even if they were unaware.

We did hit one of my all-time favorite ridiculous speciality stores, Vino & Olio...or something similarly Italian. Anyway I'm standing between a line of gourmet flavored olive oils and balsamic vinegars. Only in Peoria. What I did learn is that you can mix Blood Orange olive oil with Chocolate balsamic and taste a chocolate orange. Or add the Vanilla and Pear with the Blood Orange and drink a tangy creamy cream soda. If you're wondering I spend some downtime playing with flavor mixing there. Just like alchemy.

Due to a snow storm the all-night dance contest was post-poned.

By the time I actually turned 28 I was snowed in and content. Well, almost. I may have requested that all my presents be wrapped with homemade bows. Ha Ha Ha Ha ahhahaha. Skip thought I was joking until I handed him the scissors and tape.

Not as horrible as expected, but 28 has a whole year to screw up or prove itself. Make that six months. I think 29 might need some prep time.