Claire went and had a birthday last Saturday. Two years old. Seems impossible, and yet it feels like she should have turned two months ago.
We had a very small celebration at home with just our family and cousins Abby and Alex who made the trip from New Jersey (along with Aunt Melissa & Uncle Thomas, of course). The theme of the day was Pinkalicious. Don't ask me why I felt the need to have a theme for a "party" with only 8 attendees (half of whom were the birthday girl and her immediate family members). Matt says it's because I just wanted Claire to feel special. I love how he somehow manages to rationalize the fact that I drove three towns over just to find a place where I could buy two pounds of pink jelly beans.
The bottom line is, Claire is my girly girl who has recently developed a love for the pink cupcake book (I never thought anything would replace the Olivia obsession!), so I ran with it. Although I have never attempted to make a cake before, I couldn't resist getting a giant cupcake pan and attempting to replicate the cover of the book. When I unknowingly overfilled the cake pan and then found batter literally spewing all over my oven during the baking process, things looked like they were heading in the general direction of a total
disaster. But somehow I managed to work it all out in the end.
Claire woke up on her birthday in a good mood. We had been prepping her for the big day (Are you having a birthday? "Yes!" How old are you going to be? "TWO!") and she seemed to enjoy all the extra attention. However, she was coming down with a cold, hadn't slept well the night before, and by late afternoon when it was finally cake and presents time she wanted nothing to do with the whole production. There was plenty of grumpiness, whining and tears. The only way to even get her to sit and observe being sung to and having Matt blow out her candles for her was to give her one of the extra cupcakes I had prepared. Seems to be par for the course when my children turn two. This is why I don't do big birthday parties until at least four years of age.
Despite her lack of enthusiasm, Claire looked precious in her pink "ballet" birthday
dress (I like this Mommy!), I had fun planning her day, and Matt has a
point. I really enjoy having at least one day a year to
focus all my energy on one child specifically (even if my energy is misguidedly funneled into pink jelly beans), and although she might not have a full appreciation for it now, I hope she will look back on this and other birthdays someday and get a small glimpse into how special I think she is.
And by the way, the whole birthday thing was not lost on Claire entirely. At the point when Ella, Abby & Alex had fully overtaken the opening of her presents, Claire suddenly scrunched up her face, stuck her lips out as far as humanly possible (her signature move) and said, "Hey! It's my birfday!"
That's right Claire. And you can cry if you want to.
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