Happy Birthday to my little dude

So here we are, nearly two weeks after the fact. Through all of the Christmas shopping and white buttercream icing I've been facing in the past two weeks, I have sort of a fuzzy, vague recollection of making a promise to post pictures of Peter's wild birthday party. Ready?

First order of business: taking Peter's helmet off forever. Oh, that feels good.

Next, the birthday cake. I decided to do cupcakes. Bright Red Velvet Cupcakes. I'll admit, they're not very Peter-ish, and not very 1st-birthday-ish. But they're Christmas-ish, which is okay, right?
Peter really liked the candle. Well, not so much the candle, but the fire on top of the candle. He liked it so much that he reached out to touch it after Daddy blew it out for him. And then he was instantly sorry. Sneaky boy!

Peter didn't seem to understand the concept of eating a cupcake (I can see I've got my work cut out for me). He sort of picked at the sprinkles, and got some frosting on his fingers, licked the frosting off, and started the process over again. It went on like that for quite a while.
The actual cupcake remained unscathed. Don't let me down, buddy!

Now we're getting somewhere!

Yeah baby, shove it in there!

How strange to think that my little boy is a year old. I'm not really old enough to be a mom, am I? Like, a diaper-bag-toting, nose-wiping, sticky-floored, crashes-at-9:00-pm-MOM? And I have life insurance, and a retirement plan? Weird.

Last time I checked, we were back in the 90's, and I was walking to school every day, and wearing big enormous glasses, and giggling over that cute boy in my geometry class. How did I get from there to here?

Oh, but I'm having so much fun right now. I wouldn't trade the diaper bag, and runny noses, and sticky floor for the world.

Well, maybe the sticky floor.