Dear Reese,
In two days, you’ll be one year old. Today we have your birthday party at Troup Park. A simple beach picnic with sandwiches from Main Street Market. MorMor makes peanut butter cupcakes with chocolate and peanut butter frosting and a dark chocolate Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup on top.
Simple — but it still feels like a production to get everything set up in the park for fourteen people. MorMor and Cappi orchestrate, thank goodness. Without their help, I’m not sure what we would have done.
It’s been a cold June, and the first half of the party is cloudy and cool, but then the sun comes out and the warmth follows.
You seem to have a wonderful time.
Crawling around in the grass. Opening presents. Having a grand time playing and eating that cupcake. The wind blows out your birthday candle, and I tell you to send your wish with the wind. You play in the sand with your big sister and your Mama A takes pictures while you laugh and laugh, rubbing the sand into your hair as you throw yourself backwards into it. We have a very thorough bath before bed.
We are all very tired afterwards. You start nodding off on the drive back to the cottage, overdue for an afternoon nap.
In the evening, I wonder if your fussiness is due to teething, stomachaches, exhaustion, or a sugar crash... or a combination of everything.
You push one of your new gifts — a music parade push-ride-on car — across the house and into the wall until you’re frustrated and crying. And the way you zoom behind it (instead of sitting on it), barely hanging onto the seat handle and unsteady on your feet, reminds me why I’ve never bought you a walker. I put it in the storage closet once you’ve gone to sleep. That toy might be better when you can walk.
We’ll celebrate more on your actual birthday, but today was wonderful. Evening tiredness aside, you were all smiles today, and that’s what matters to me.
I cannot believe you are one year old this week.
Love,
Mama