My youngest Wildling turned two the other day.
Thems the breaks right?
One minute you are 20 years old, kissing the groom and dashing off to play the game of Life and then you are nearly a decade older, three kids poorer and The Baby has the nerve to turn two.
I planned on mostly ignoring the change in age. I would buy him a cake, give him a few gifts, and then pretend he was still one, or better yet, swaddle him up and imagine he was still an infant. It wasn’t enough for him to just turn Two though, the older Wildlings needed to make a scene of it and demand it become a Party.
Me: Absolutely not. He’s still one.
Wildlings: No he’s not. Tomorrow is December 4th. He was born on December 4th. So he is two. He needs a party.
Me: He will have cake and presents. See? It’s a party.
Marilyn: And a banner?
Sam: And decorations from the ceiling?
Unison: AND BALLOONS?!
Wildlings: He will be so sad! He needs to have a party! You have to make him a party!
Me: I give up. (and inside my head “I pretty much hate you both”.)
Marilyn: YAY! Balloons!
The next morning I found myself at (Chorus of Angels) Target.
Came home and put Judah (who, here and forevermore will be referred to as) The Baby down for a nap and then did this:
and this too
You know what Judah thought of it?
He loved it. He sat in his high chair and pointed at the decorations, talking to them all night long. I bought noise makers and sparkler candles, birthday hats and harmonicas, balloons that lit up! Banners and plates, napkins and confetti, spiraling ceiling things that took a whole roll of tape to stay adhered to the ceiling!
Guess what The older Wildlings had to say? Those hellions who had bullied me into this all in the first place. Goose eggs. Nothing. Not a single mention of The Party or a Thank You for my efforts. Sometimes when you seek to please someone, your efforts don’t get the recognition they might deserve, and that’s the risk you take. In this case, Judah picked up their slack ten fold, I’m honestly wondering if my husband would object to keeping the party going through January, that’s how happy it makes The Baby.
Judah might not remember turning two, but the big kids will remember that I threw him a smasher, and if they lie, I’ve got pictures as proof.
(Also, he’s never turning 3. Someone get started on that time machine. Twosies forever).