this guy is ONE

This guy turned a year old yesterday, so we spent the afternoon at his birthday party.

Here he was a year ago.


something about that fragile little hand under his chin just gets me by the heart


(there's his very brave mother in the background. she'd rather not appear without makeup. i understand.)

Here he is now eating cake. Can you believe those eyelashes?



The weather was warm, and the kids went sliding in the backyard.








We went to my sister's in the evening. For Tim and Julia this generates as much excitement as at trip to the North Pole to see Santa would.





Tim played the video game in the family room, ski jumping and running until his cheeks were red and his hair was wet. I found t.c. and Julia upstairs in a sea of Polly Pockets spread out across my niece's bedroom floor, a circle of Polly debris literally seven feet wide.

When it was time to leave, Julia hid under a bed upstairs and had to be physically dragged out. We'd stayed too long and she was tired beyond logical sense. We could hear her dad, "Julia. This is not right. You have to come out." Finally Kari went up and pulled her out by the arms because Dad was too big to reach her. He carried her downstairs.

When we got home and tossed her in bed, she was still crying, totally exhausted. I got in bed next to her, patted her back. Tim said, "Maybe if I sing her a lullaby it would help?"

She snarled, "NO!" (Yep, ornery.)

I said it couldn't hurt, so he began singing. He made up the song as he went, something about, "Little Julia," and "close your eyes." As I listened to his very Timothy voice in the dark, the deep pitch and extra round vowels, cranky Julia cuddled against my chest, all the sweetness of the whole day felt concentrated right there into one beautiful moment.

Happy Birthday, Buster. The whole family is better with you in it. love, Grandma