I think every birthday should start out like this…
My poor granola-fed children are so happy with this birthday treat. We could give them nothing but a wet wipe to go along with it and they’d be perfectly content. Of course, since this is such a rarity in our house, they tend to gorge themselves when the opportunity arises. Emma gave Ben two of these donuts, Dave ate one, and she had all the rest… ALL the rest!
Ben was only interested in the fire.
You know how they say preacher’s kids rebel, the cobbler’s children have no shoes, the dentist’s child doesn’t brush… well this is what photographer’s kids do. Lovely.
You know you’re going to have a good day when it starts out with sugar on your cheeks…
and a bedroom full of balloons!
Ben put on his “party hair” for the occasion.
And hung out with his buddy Gramps.
The party was a drive-in movie theme. It was the first time I had made my mom’s yummmmmmmy fluffy-white-stand-over-the-stove-with-the-mixer-10-minutes-icing. Unfortunately, it slooooowly gave in to gravity along the sides of the cake…
but boy, did it taste good! For everybody who was wondering how in the world I made the cake checkerboard, just click here!
In the rush of getting out the door for school in the morning, the living room littered with boots and scarves and coats, the sticky mess of toothpaste on the sink… it’s easy to lose sight of the sweetness kids bring into our lives. That’s why I love birthdays. Today I celebrate Emma- her deep-throated-out-of-control giggle, her gap-toothed smile, her smattering of freckles. At six I’m so happy that she still jumps into bed with us in the morning, still (mostly) loves our hugs and kisses, still draws us with hearts and smiles in every picture. She’s worth every early morning. She’s worth every “Are you listening?”. She’s worth every sticker on the chore-chart of my heart. She is the sweetest… and the best. Happy birthday my girl.