Trying to keep up: birthday season 'round herrr.

Remember how I used to document on the blog Lucy's every little facial expression and bowel movement? I bet you miss those days. I bet you really really do. I bet you've been trying to think of a way to tell me how much you miss them without it being awkward. I bet the last time we talked, it was on the very tip of your tongue. But you just felt sheepish and couldn't take the plunge. I bet you've written out the text on your phone various times only to erase it and rewrite it to me a few days later... never being able to just hit "send". I bet the last time you came to my house you almost left it behind in a long sappy letter but just didn't have the gall. Welp, I'm here to tell you it's okay. It's okay that you miss those days. I do too. But you don't have to try to figure out how to tell me how much you miss that I used to do that. I'll just get it out there for us both. You're welcome. 

The point is, someday my kids are actually going to read through these blasted entries and I promised myself I wouldn't be the mother (AKA every mother) who documented everything their firstborn said and did and then by the time the third babe came be lucky to get a picture once a year up. I wasn't going to be the mom who posted a picture of their first child every single week the entire first 5 years of their life so that you could monitor growth and progress of said child from home on your own spread sheets and then have the audacity to not afford you the same opportunity with my subsequent children. Here's the funny thing. No one's asked me lately how I'm adjusting to 3 kids. And I think you should probably actually start asking that question when that third child hits around their year mark. Because the first year of Isla's life was breezy with 3 kids. But now. NOW. How do I explain this in terms you will understand... let's see here... It's like going from raising a tank of sea monkeys to having an actual monkey. Could be a small orangutan. Or maybe you'd understand this analogy better: it's like going from having a baby to having a toddler. I mean, sortof. That second analogy is more of a stretch. Humor me.

Another point of all of this is, I'm the 4th child out of 5. And I turned out okay. Even though I have no idea when I got my first tooth. There's my consolation.

Ahem, my real point is, I'm blogging about Isla's birthday right now. Even though it's been over a month and I have a million other more recent things to write about that are now making war in my brain against each other. I'm writing about it, and I don't want any judgment for being so late. I want you to act like it was yesterday. Except just kidding. I'm actually blogging about Scarlett's birthday right now. Because ya see, I've been meaning to sit down for posterity's sake and write about Isla's first birthday, because you only turn 1 once right? and then the funniest thing happened just now, the darnedest thing! Right this very moment that I'm sitting here! A realization just jumped up and bit me in the rear like a gopher. I remembered that I forgot Scarlett's birthday. And how she turned 3 before Isla turned 1. So to keep things chronological and orderly (like everything in my life- obviously) Scarlett is actually the one who will have a turn to ride this wild hog of a blog today. 

Okay. I want to write a few things down about her nature at this stage. How do I put mothering Scarlett in this stage of her life into words? 

I can't do it. I just can't. Let's try this route. Being the mother to 3 year old Scarlett is somewhere between this pic:

And these:

Or maybe halfway between this picture:

And this video:
 

and this. Halfway between all three.

For her big day we took our wee little clan + Jason's parents to lunch at none other than the infamous Coney's Frozen Custard. Have you been there? You really ought to try it if you haven't. Wink.

 And then we headed to Kangaroo Zoo. In case you don't know, it's a whole world of gigantic bounce houses. It's pretty fantastic.  

These ragamuffin sisters held hands pretty much the entire duration of the outing...

 And one of my favorite parts, sniffed out a couple sweetheart older girls to glom onto and claim as their own.

This girl would not be permitted to give lap rides to any other munchkins around. Scarlett made sure of that. Not on her birthday.

And then another hand selected older girlfriend who Scarlett invited to share her birthday cake with. Jason and I have discovered that Scarlett operates a little like the Brain from anamaniacs. Remember "Pinkie and the Brain"? She's little. And bossy. And plans to take over the world.

After the party we came home to take a spin on her new wheels. I told her to look natural here. I'd say she looks like she belongs.

Of course we can't forget the 10 crisp ones she received in the mail from Grammy and Papa that morning. Which I promptly swiped out of her mitts and shoved into my wallet. That was immediately after she ripped one in half just for kicks. I'd say other than being pick-pocketed by her mother, no 3-year-old ever had a better birthday.

 Scarlett has fantastic taste, and an uncanny ability to sniff out everything in our home that could possibly be valuable in any way (monetarily or sentimentally) and destroy it. She has a real knack for that.But all in all, she is the absolute best. Like THEEE best, long e there. She's hilarious and unpredictable and mischievous and charming beyond words. And so tender. She's the best of everything there is in this life.