Ike's actual birthday was very low-key. Which is bullshit-speak for "boring." Or perhaps: "HE'S TWO. PLAYING WITH BUBBLE WRAP IS STILL THE PINNACLE OF HIS LIFE EXPERIENCE."
I'm glad we didn't have any big ambitious plans, however, since on Friday Ezra came home from school, scarfed down his usual four pounds of lunch and then set off to amuse himself doing...I don't know exactly what. Something in the basement? Backyard? LOOK WHATEVER IT'S NOT LIKE HE WAS PLAYING IN THE STREET. I PROBABLY WOULD HAVE NOTICED THAT.
Anyway, I am not the one on trial here for negligence, but at some point I realized Ezra had crawled on the couch, covered himself with a blanket and fallen completely asleep. This is never a good sign — four year olds don't sleep in the middle of the day for any sensible sort of reason, like being "tired."
But because the Occupational Therapist Formerly Known as Ms. M___ was coming over shortly for dinner, and because I am selfish and starved for actual human interaction, I decided to let him continue sleeping there and just vacuumed and fussed around him in my attempt to get my house a couple steps above slum. Because company!
Of course, when I finally tried to wake him he was burning up with a fever. Go me! Dusting while my child was basically cooking under a heavy fleece blanket. I shook him awake and dosed him with some medicine and tried to ask him if anything in particular...hurt? Or bothered him? At all? Ears? Throat? Anything?
"I am sick," he admitted. "Because I hit my elbow on a house. But not a brick house."
Well then. That clears THAT up. Thank God it wasn't a brick house; I might have had to cancel our company otherwise. YOU'LL BE FINE.
I still have no idea where the fever came from — it faded within a couple hours and Ezra's appetite was a bit diminished for a day or two (during which I probably saved $300 on groceries), but then he was fine and never really complained about anything specific. (Other than his elbow, obviously. And he told Jason he was sick because a neighbor kid punched him in the shoe.)
Anyway, I mostly went on that tangent so I'd have an excuse to mention the fact that 1) I let my friend come to my house anyway, despite the presences of a feverish, possibly contagious child, and 2) during her visit I noticed that, despite all my frenzied cleaning efforts, there was a Lego minifigure head, a piece of mail and a RANDOM LASAGNA NOODLE sitting in a neat little cluster under our TV cabinet.
The next day I found another one on the stairs.
IT'S AN INFESTATION. THEY'RE EVERYWHERE. RUN.
I admit I was super-tempted to just return this to the (apparently toddler-level) box in the pantry, then maybe wrap it all up like a birthday present for Ike.
Luckily the Play Doh set we got him seemed like a worthy alternative.
His brothers' enthusiasm for this gift stems from the fact that this is probably the first time we've had cans of pristine, non-mixed-up or dried-up Play Doh in our house in YEARS.
My mom sent him a baby doll and stroller. This is at least our third or fourth baby doll stroller, by the way. Ezra and Ike freaking LOVE baby doll strollers, but eventually they take them outside and like, drag race them down the hill, possibly with a live human passenger. (We're also on our third tiny toy shopping cart, for similar reasons.)
These are some crazy delicious cupcakes, for which I can take no credit. I was off getting mah roots done and came back to find Jason baking them. (Here's the recipe; we didn't have marscapone so he swapped it for cream cheese. WINNING.)
I licked the bowl? And bought the candle? That someone on Twitter linked to? Because...I'm useless? Yeah.
Ike actually didn't much enjoy the candle part (HOT! HOT! HAWP THEY'RE TRYING TO KILL ME!)...
But the cupcakes definitely went over pretty well with one and all. I was going to take some to our neighbors but...didn't. For some reason. Hmm.
(MY BELLY DEMANDED THEM.)
Yes, it was a perfect little birthday for a perfect little guy.
I will miss having a Baby Ike, but I do very much enjoy having this new little Noodle.