The Big 0-2: Part 1

We Breyers know how to party.

We just don't know how to post pictures of the party in a timely manner.

Party number one, just us three. And a half. If your dog is willing to wear a party hat, she must be included in the tally.

I made a cake. Lemon, with lemon frosting. From a box, of course. When Calvin saw it after his nap, I thought he'd be excited. Instead he started crying because I said he couldn't eat it until after dinner. Lesson learned. Hide the cake. Or allow your child to eat it first because it's his birthday and you really need to loosen up a bit. You know, either way.


We started with presents. Because who can resist those?



Well, Calvin, apparently. Slightly underwhelmed by his first gift of matchbox cars, he insisted we move onto cake.



Who needs a cone? Or a spoon?


This required bribery.


Back to presents. A set of tools, which he was VERY excited about. He kept exclaiming "My own tools! MY OWN TOOLS!" as if we'd been forcing him to share tools with other children all this time. Which, well - daycare. I guess we have.


Pliers come in handy for opening all remaining presents at a snail's pace.


We thought the tools were a hit...until he opened the matchbox car ramp. He hasn't stopped playing with it in three weeks. (NAILED IT! So proud of myself for doing boy toy shopping all by myself. Hm. That sounds borderline inappropriate.)


'Twas a happy little night celebrating our sweet Bub together, and much improved over Calvin's first birthday, which we spent trying to force cake down his throat and cleaning up barf. Ah, memories.

Two.

Happy second birthday to my precious Calvin. I love you, darling boy.

Payoff.

In the following video I am freshly showered with uncombed hair, no makeup and no bra, and I'm in my pajamas. I look terrible. Yet, I'm posting this on my blog for the world to see because it's too good not to. The things we do for our children.

May I present an excerpt from Bruce Degen's Jamberry, as "read" by my one-year-old?



We read through the entire 32-page book last night, and he could recite the lines from every. single. one. Nate recorded us reading through the whole book on my phone, but the file was too large to email so I had to clip it. I will just tell you that my jaw was hanging open almost the entire time.

Reading with your kids every single night since birth pays off. Don't let anyone tell you differently. The initial return on investment might just be a little boy who can memorize/recite a bunch of words, but the seed has definitely been planted.

I am one proud mama. And is his little voice cute or what?

Pablo Breyer.

This weekend was rainy and cold. I thought — hey, why not try finger painting with Calvin?

Well, maybe because my kid is weird and refuses to get his hands messy, that's why. I tried to show him how to use his fingers in the paint and he freaked out and made me go get a washcloth to wipe off his hand.

So we tried paintbrushes instead. That went much better, though I have to say he really might be on the verge of OCD. Even with the brushes, the second a speck of paint got on him he got a terrified look on his face and insisted I wipe it off. I sat there the entire time he painted holding a wet washcloth so I could address any accidental splatters.

But, anything to nurture my child's inner artist. I mean, will you look at these masterpieces? Calvin is so going to give Picasso a run for his money one day.





This is the look I got when I asked him to smile with his finished artwork. We shall call this series Cheese Face.