A rippin' good time.
So you're saying I'm supposed to put this mess in my mouth?
Oh yes, I get it now...
The party was a success, and HR did very well being the center of all that attention. Toys now outnumber people about 25:1 in our house, and I might never see the shelves of my refrigerator again for the bounty of leftovers (and the Easter bunny's subsequent visit) but it's all, all, all, all good. I highly recommend the informal open-house tactic for a first birthday party, especially if you have a small abode. Oh, and if you can get your own grandmother to do the catering, all the better! (What would we do without you, Gram?)
Again I'm so overwhelmed with thankfulness, there are so many words, I just can't get them out right now. Suffice to say it was a very special time for our family, and even though our buddy won't remember it, we will, despite the likelihood that the next birthday will be here before we know it.
Now Mama's got a ton of work to tackle, and no pumping breaks to interrupt the flow. It's a weird, nagging feeling, like I'm forgetting something, and I'm sure it won't go away soon. But I can think of plenty of good things to do with that hour I'm getting back each day. I'm keen to return the pump so as not to be charged for another month, but I want to make extra sure I won't need it again because we're already having some poo issues brought on by cow's milk. Oh, transitions.
Speaking of: tonight is night one of the great "extinction/gradation" bedtime experiment. Send tranquilizers. For the parents, of course. I'll let you know how it goes.
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