Happy Birthing Day

That's what it really should be called. Happy birthing day, mom. Oh, and happy birthday, Robby. But who deserves the pat on the back, really? All Robby did was get born. I shoved him out. :)  It was quite festive around here as we held a party on the deck with mid-afternoon margaritas, cornhole and family and friends. I made a truck cake complete with oreo wheels. Which Rob and I "discussed" as I put it together about the proper proportions of cake per square inch of truck. Two artists with two different ideas. It's just a cake, mom and dad....sheesh.

In the end, Robby didn't touch it. In light of the hives week.....I knew in my heart of hearts that he would not be excited about a large blue cake sitting on his tray. "That's weird, mom. Where's the cheese?" Also, being an introvert (we're pretty sure of that) he was not too keen on everybody staring at him. I know, I know. All the books say to keep it small for the first birthday. But Mommy Extrovert couldn't help herself. It's a party!

Robby received really fun new books and clothing and trucks and bandaids and toys. What a day. Thanks everyone for making is so special and for helping us drink up some lovely 'ritas. As usual, Rob was the mastermind of hosting good drinks. And, as usual, my dad couldn't stop playing cornhole. Gotta love him.

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