What happens when you celebrate your second birthday the day after your baby brother is born; the day your parents bring him home from the hospital?
Our Hen turned two the day after B3 arrived and we didn’t celebrate at all. In fact, when Jason brought the boys to pick me up from the hospital, it was the nurse who reminded him that it was our second son’s birthday. He had plum forgotten.
We’re not completely terrible parents. We’d had a couple of mini celebrations with his cousins and grandparents when we were in the States over the summer. He’d actually had birthday cake and presents….twice in the same week. But, in June. Not in August – when he was actually born.
And this bothered me. Probably more than it should have.
So the weekend arrived, nearly a month after his birthday. And I decided to at least make the boy some cupcakes. And take the obligatory photo for his album…so he could see we didn’t (completely) forget his birthday.
When he woke up from his nap, I retrieved him from the crib. ‘Do you want cupcakes?’ I asked brightly. And, smart boy that he is, he perked up immediately. It’s one of his favorite words, ‘cupcakes’.
We gathered around the table, and cobbled together the worst version of the ‘Happy Birthday’ song ever heard. The Hen was so embarassed, he turned sideways in his chair and refused to make eye contact.
But then it was time to blow out the candles and eat the cupcakes.
Mud muffins….with a layer of cream cheese frosting.
As kids do, they inhaled the frosting, and ate two bites of the cake. Leaving me to consume the cupcake carcasses.
Next year we’ll have to stage two birthday parties, one day apart? Perhaps now would be a good time to make up a different birthday for the baby. He really seems more like a July man, than an August one.