Birthday. Birth – “day”. The one day that is all about you. Well, the one day that it’s supposed to be all about you.
Unfortunately, Matilda woke up on her birthday with a fever and threw up first thing. Not a great start to the day that’s supposed to be all about you.
Fortunately, she had already had one birthday party at her aunt’s house.
But two dozen expensive cupcakes had been ordered to bring into school for celebration with her friends. Guess that wasn’t happening.
Hand, foot, and mouth had been making the rounds and my little Princess had taken her turn. Coxsackie is a nasty virus that causes fever then really painful sores to develop -often in the back of the mouth and throat. We knew for sure when she would cry every time she tried to take a bite of food or a sip of something to drink.
I’ve written a lot about her getting sick; and she has gotten sick more than her fair share. As a matter of fact, she had sinus infection and tonsillitis with two rounds of antibiotics in February alone. Poor girl. Couldn’t she catch a break on her birthday?
Nope, and neither could Dad. And I was looking at at least another week out of school. Poor me. Welcome to my pity party. Oh wait, this isn’t about me. See how I do that?
By the time she was feeling better on Tuesday we happened to have her well child appointment at the pediatrician. Afterward we stopped for a cupcakes so we could celebrate at home and she could open some presents.
At this point her birthday had technically lasted 12 days.
And with a little bit of luck, and some new medication, we had a party on Wednesday. The expensive cupcake shop agreed to let us delay, and they were delivered: 24 vanilla cupcakes with pink frosting and hot-pink sprinkles.
Which brought her birth-day total to 20 days.
But you know what?
Matilda didn’t seem to mind one bit.
First, my apologies to my readers for the password protected blog post. I had to respect the relative privacy of the other parents at Matilda’s day care. They got the password.
Let me explain.
The plan was to have a big Thanksgiving feast with all the parents and all the children until the room we needed was found to be booked. I was a little bummed when I found out that it was going to be just the children, I love watching the kids have fun together during school parties. Alas, the room they ended up having to use was too small to fit everyone. In fact, the room was a bit small for all the kids. So the parents were uninvited.
I had to figure out an angle. Ah! The fancy camera I bought my wife for her birthday so she could get me to take photos of our growing girl. In all honesty, I think my wife has taken about 150 photos compared to my 8000+. If it’s worth doing, it’s worth overdoing. Well, maybe 6000 with the camera, the rest with my phone. But I digress.
So I show up with way too much cranberry sauce, since we were planning on parents too, and our camera. I volunteered to take pictures of the party so the teachers could focus on feeding the children. Sneaky. I got a press pass to the Turkey Day Pre-school party. (I knew all those nights of jumping velvet ropes in the 90’s would pay off eventually).
I got to attend the party, the teachers got to attend to their charges, and the other parents who were squeezed out or stuck at work could see pictures of their little ones having a ball. Matilda was overwhelmed by the ruckus and wanted me to hold her the whole time. So I actually had to turn my camera on all the other kids. Oh, and the parents were glad for the photos.
When I spoke with the head of the school afterward she told me a nice little story. They had done an exercise where the kids shared something they were thankful for. Many of the answers were silly or nonsensical and she felt she had missed the mark. But as the party wore on and the kids were really having fun eating together one boy looked up at her and said, “I’m thankful for my friends to share food with.”
Stay tuned for a how-to on making this bad-ass baby. You and your toddler will fly through the airport like OJ. (Too soon?)
Keep an eye out for a big life-hack post to make airline travel with a toddler a bit easier. The Airport Carseat-Stroller Rig. But until then, a pretty picture.
Somebody asked me why I only post pictures of my daughter when she is happy. Am I trying to make my life look better than it is?
No, dumbass. If she is crying I put the camera down and take care of her. Duh.
But every once in a while I snap one as she crosses the line.
Here is one in the name of realism:
Just so you don’t think I’m cruel, here she is moments before, enjoying the bear. “Bear, yawn.” She says.