twotothree

I am the mom of a one-year-old.

I am the mom of a one-year-old.

A one-year-old. 

She was fussy at her party (molars!), but it was good anyway.  It was kind of ridiculous to have a bunch of adults sit around and watch a one-year-old try to open gifts.  The kid just didn't get it.  She was also not interested in her cake.  I gave her a slice, and she'd eat it if I fed it to her, but she got frosting on her hand and was DISGUSTED at the texture.  From that point on she refused to do the cliche messy-baby-birthday-cake spiel.  Which I was a bit disappointed about.  But what can I say, I have a classy lady.  

I was also super lazy about the photos.  I feel like that's a hanging offense in mom-world.  But I guess I take enough photos on a daily basis that it's not that big of a deal.  

Rainbow cake!  White cake with white chocolate lemon ganache filling and buttercream frosting.  

  

I couldn't find yellow soda that didn't look like pee.

We have a dining room!  Mike, Sarah, and I had to reupholster those chairs in a mad dash three hours before the party.  We bought them at estate sales and thrift stores and four of them were so old that when we took off the seating we found that they were stuffed with hay and burlap.  But don't they look great?  I'm debating painting them white, but I kind of like the antique-y brown finish.

I still have to finish the upper part of the fireplace ...

That tiny hounds tooth chair was Mike's idea, and I will never hear the end of it.  I told him not to buy it because, let's be honest, the kid doesn't sit still.  There was no way she was going to use a chair.  But during the party she would SCREAM if we took her out of it.  It's her favorite thing, ever.  Some speculate that it's because she's never had a her-size piece of furniture before.  I think it's to spite me.

In the morning she sits in it in her bathrobe and sips her juice.

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I am having BABY FEVER.  I can't see tiny baby feet sticking out of a car seat on a grocery cart without my uterus screaming.  But when I think about it with my logic instead of my emotions, I realize that there's no way I could deal with two young kids while Mike and I are working opposite shifts.  And I worry that another kid will take away with the time I have with Gloria.  And financially, fewer kids is smarter, right?  AND, I really don't want to be pregnant again.  Ever.

It's so funny how biological yearning flies in the face of logic, isn't it?  Logically, I don't WANT to put another human on this messed up planet, right?  But damn it if I don't crave those sleepless nights and two-hour feedings and, hell, even bagy spit-up.

It's absurd.

To come: Photos of Gloria in her new hat - a faux fur number complete with ears ...