pizza with candles on it (birthday, part 1)

Here's the real story.

On Friday morning we woke up with Lucy and started the day right with candles, bacon, and a birthday crown. She opened her presents: a tutu, tiny handmade oven mitts, matching mama-Lucy aprons, and some art supplies. We looked at a stack of pictures from her first two years of life. We ate bacon (I discovered her limit--four whole slices), toast with butter, and smoothies.

Then: fishing! Nana, Papa, Uncle Lance, Aunt Sarah, and Teagan met us at Hagg Lake for a boating adventure. We found a place where the tiny fish were biting and we reeled them in. Teagan had an awesome time playing with the fish in the bucket and trying out her sea legs around the boat; Lucy mostly just wanted to sit in someone's lap.

Back at Nana and Papa's house Lucy found a passel of balloons waiting. Pizza was the backup plan for dinner in case we didn't catch enough fish, so Mama made pizza dough while the men cleaned perch on the porch and Lucy played with Titi and Aunt Sarah.

Nana fried up the fish as a snack, or "Dinner Part 1" as we of Fillmore blood like to call it. Forty fish doesn't sound paltry, but they were little and delicious and Lucy as the birthday girl ate far more than her share.

There was an interlude during which Lucy opened presents. The first one was a set of nesting monkey dolls, which she immediately wanted to open and start playing with. I heard myself say, 'Let's just keep opening presents, you can play with them later," then realized that was ridiculous advice (stop enjoying! just open and move on!) and instead we sat and watched her play with every present in turn.

After presents there was pizza, homemade, with basil and mozzarella and hot capicola and whatever magic delicious gestalt comes when you mix those ingredients plus tomato sauce together in a hot oven. This being our second dinner did not stop anyone.

Then the cake, a dense, flourless circle of chocolate I made the night before, knowing that Lucy loves chocolate but isn't much for cake. By this point in the meal I think Lucy thought we were crazy, two dinners and then dessert?, but a second birthday seems as good a time as any to welcome her to her food heritage. We served it with fresh whip cream courtesy of Nana.

Lucy licked her fork, but cousin Titi (like the rest of us) cleaned her whole plate.

Then it was home with a tired two year old and a chance to sleep it all off and get ready for the next day's adventure.

two years

Dear Goose,

This birthday was so much different than the last. You: not feverish, thrilled to open presents, licking frosting off your cake.

You talk to us now, in full sentences, compound sentences, endless strings of mostly sense and sometimes complete gibberish and quite-right turns of phrase that you have made up.

"You bring tape! You bring three tapes! You bring one tape, and two tape, and mama's tape. You go on an adventure."

You listen to everything. A year ago you watched, two years ago same thing. Observing, always observing. Now your ears have been wrangled into the act, and that part of childhood where you're always listening and the adults are always forgetting and growing too comfortable begins. I finally started covering my mouth and whispering if I mentioned birthday plans in your presence.

You are so delightful. Your imagination is full-fledged, your babies are each other mommies, you tuck them in and sing to them and change their diapers. You turn blankets into pirate ships and mermaid tails. Tape and post-its are band-aids, I always have something on my knee as you try to make me feel better. You cook noodles and garlic soup. You had a coughing fit the other day and I asked you if you were coughing up a spider. No. A mermaid? No. A bumblebee!

I love talking to you. Today we were talking about your birthday last weekend, how we went fishing, then ate the fish, then followed up with some pizza. I asked you if you remembered anything else about your birthday.

"Yeah."
"What?"
"Yeah."
"What do you remember?"
"Yeah."
"What?"
"Pizza with candles!"

There was no pizza with candles, but I think I'm going to remember it that way too.

I love you!

Love,
Mama

friday cute shot

heard on the street

 "Butter, butter, what do you see?
   I see a toast looking at me!"

                               -Lucy, singing over buttered toast at the breakfast table.

she finally tried some watermelon!