The Party

 

 

Our baby girl turned one.

We drove to Texas early to celebrate with our  family and close friends.

Here’s Emma Kate with her Grandy, who loves her so much.  Let me tell you how much Grandy loves Emma.  My mom (Grandy) never, and I mean NEVER allows her picture to be made.  Except with Emma.  Now that’s love, right there.

I tried to keep the party as simple as possible, and discovered that birthdays can easily get out of hand, and my stress level can easily go through the roof, with tears easily running down my cheeks.

Emma Kate loves Pete the Cat, especially “I Love My White Shoes”.  So with a little help from Pinterest and more experienced mothers who have gone before me, we went with a Pete the Cat theme.

Let me tell you how much Pete the Cat loves his white shoes.  He loves his shoes when they are white, but then he steps in a pile of strawberries and they turn red.  Instead of boohooing, Pete just loves his red shoes instead.  And when he steps in a pile of blueberries and they turn blue, instead of pitching a fit, he just loves his blue shoes.  Then he steps in a pile of mud and you guessed it.  He loves his shoes brown.  Then he steps in a bucket of water and they turn all white again, but then they are wet!  But it’s all good with Pete and he loves his wet shoes too.

Of course we needed strawberries and blueberries.  We had a little chocolate pudding for the mud, and then just some one year old friendly foods like crackers and goldfish, with some grown-up friendly food like sandwiches

 

 

I was planning on cake balls and a cake, but making the cake turned into a fiasco.  A fiasco, I say.

Mostly because I procrastinate, and because I am so NOT Betty Crocker, I can barely get the stove turned on.  It would make more sense to order a cake, but somewhere in my perfectionist mind, I needed to make the cake myself, knowing good and well it wouldn’t be perfect.

Of course I found a recipe that involved way too many tricks and steps, of course I had to run to Walmart that day, of course at 1:00 I still didn’t have a cake made when the party was at three, of course tears were dripping into the batter as I frantically mixed and folded egg whites and sifted flour.

The icing turned out to be way too sweet and runny, but thanks to my dear husband who donned his Superman cape and convinced me that store-bought icing is not from the devil, then in the blink of an eye ran to the store and purchased it, then whisked back in a nanosecond and iced the cake beautifully, we had a decent cake before three o’clock.  No cake balls, but a decent cake.

Notice I said “we” had a beautiful cake.  Emma had one with sickening sweet icing.

Which probably explains this look and why she chose to eat three strawberries and barely touched the cake.

 

 

 

She was a champ at opening presents and sat there and looked at each and every one of them without tiring.

She adores presents and wants to stop and play with them all.

 

She even loved her cards.

 

 

 

 

      

Despite my anxiety, the party was a success and the love Emma received was awesome.

 

So here’s to planning birthday party #2 eleven months early.

Maybe that way, we can have cake balls.