Birthday - Revisited

I didn't have a blog for Boogaloo's first birthday, and I wasn't going to worry about a post for him until his second birthday, except that my grandmother's 75th birthday was this week. Well with everybody going absolutely psycho over the "big event" I've had birthdays on the brain, and I figured I'd get it out of my system the best way I know how. Have at....

My Sweet Boogaloo,
I meant to start working on your birthday book exactly on time; but like with most of my plans, that didn't work out/happen. So I'm gonna go ahead and work it out on my own time here in words wihle I try to hunt down at least one picture of the non-even we made your First Birthday out to be. I'll start with the suggestions from the birthday book, but almost guaranteed I'll veer off-course and strike-out on my own.

Your very first birthday cake ever was: not even truly or technically your own. Since your Great Uncle Danny's birthday is the day before your's, you kinda got jilted, kid.

Here's what you thought of it and how you ate it: You didn't eat it, actually, so I'll spew about the cake you DID eat. That went all over nowhere, due to the fact that you liked it so much that it all made it into your mouth, neatly.

Your favorite gift was: everything you got that you could make a mess of and with. You weren't hugely interested in anything specific unless we pointed it out.

Actually what you liked most ended up being the boxes.

Quick mental snapshot: When I close my eyes, this is how I picture you: chubby all over, short blond hair, round sweet face with blue eyes that seem to see more than most at your age, and those mis-matched front teeth you have.

Your nicknames these days are: Buddha, Booger, Bubba Bear, Short Man, and whatever else comes out.

Anyone with the time/patience to get on the floor with you is your bestest little playmate.

You're really into your choochoo and Uncle Micah's robot toys right now.

Barring some horrifying disaster during the day, your routine runs smooth as baby skin, and being around you is a dream for everyone, But heaven help us all on one of your bad days - you tantrum like a big kid! All the violence no one could/would expect from your midget frame. I taught you how to give kisses, but you usually reserve them for me. I'm totally OK with that, since it generally tells me you won't be running away from home any time soon. This walking thing you're doing...I gotta tell you that it makes my heart swell with pride that you're growing up; but at the same time, it breaks my very same heart because every step you take is one more step towards being grown up enough to leave me. Not being one to over dramatize things, I guess I'll leave it here and go bawl my eyes out in the corner while you run your chubby little legs into the ground again.