My Pepper turned two this past week. Her birthday itself was a relatively quiet affair except for the infamous elevator incident which I will post shortly. There was pizza and a couple of presents and dinner with Daddy at the hospital. Sunday was the main event – a small party with just a few friends and a couple of kids, but Pepper’s first very own birthday party nonetheless.
I wasn’t convinced she understood that the party was for her until she woke up on Sunday morning and walked into the dining room where Pickle and I had starting setting the table and had hung several Elmo decorations. Bleary-eyed and stumbling half-awake, Pepper wandered into the room and with an air of awe simply said, “My party?” When Pepper told her it that yes, it was for her, the smile that broke out across her face said it all.
And what a glorious afternoon it was for the Pepper. There were three “big” girls and a boy her own age to play with and follow through the house. They played and ran wild, the adults ate and ate and ate and we all enjoyed not having to organize anything for them to do. There was one simply craft- glitter glue and sticky jewels and foam hearts and stars on little paper boxes; just enough to bridge the gap between lunch and cake.
The cake was a simple affair- chocolate – deemed by the Pickle as the only type of cake appropriate for a birthday. I could have bought a much prettier cake from, well, just about anywhere, but then I wouldn’t have had an excuse to make my favorite butter cream frosting. Elmo, Zoe, Big Bird and Cookie Monster appeared on the cake, courtesy of our “Chutes and Ladders” game and there were lots of sprinkles. Perfect for a two year old. When we started singing ‘Happy Birthday” and she knew it was for her, you would have thought we were crowning her Miss America.
The great thing about being two is the complete focus on the present and not on the presents. We waited until everyone left to open them and while the Pepper enjoyed them, it was the people and party that made her day.
The only real downer of the whole weekend was Monday morning when she woke up and toddled back into the dining room. Most everything was back in its proper place, except for a couple of the Elmo decorations, which I thought I’d leave up for a few days to help ward off the post-birthday let down. Still the disappointment was written all over her face when she looked around at everything cleaned up and said, with a complete understanding that it was all over, “my party”.
Here she is modeling her sporty new backpack:
