We threw Ryan a pretty laid back birthday. It mostly consisted of redeeming points at various restaurants we frequent, doing yard work, and falling asleep early. How times have changed. But in a good way.
It was a good weekend.
We started off breakfast singing Happy Birthday. Ruthie was the first one up and so excited since we’d been talking about it all week. “I’m 2. On my next birthday, I’ll be 3. I can chew gum when I’m 4.” And on and on and on. She’s a chatter and 95% of the time cracks me up. The other 5% I’m on the couch with my eyes closed when she whispers stuff in my ear.
After seeing her lick her lips, I reminded her that we had to wait for Annie to wake up.
When lunch came around we went to a pizza joint. Ruthie had our waitress captivated. I thought it was the profound conversation they were having about white milk vs chocolate milk, until the waitress said, “Ooooh, and I love your earrings too.” Screech! What earrings? I looked over at her and saw the huge black and pearl dangly clip-on earrings from her dress-up corner glistening proudly. I wonder how many people think her ears are really pierced and these are what she wears. Ruthie quietly said, “Thank you. That was a compliment.” I started talking about compliments hardcore when she turned 2. If it’s difficult for me to just say thank you instead of turning it into a self-deprecating joke, then it needed to be drilled in early to my kids. I hope it sticks.
Later we swung on the swings, daddy pushed of course.
And kissed Annie’s toes.
We cleaned out the garage. (Fun birthday, eh?) To us it is. I mean, look at this girl. Can hardly contain herself, probably because of Ryan’s white shirt… again. If Randy ever has any worry that his legacy will not live on, never fear. It’s alive and well.
We ended the birthday weekend with hamper rides. They were free…. until the next trip to the chiro, that is.
And topped it all off with a near toe-touching experience with a huge spider. I was getting the girls into the tub and looked down to see this guy about to caress my pinky toe. I screamed a low guttural scream, the real kind… you know the kind. This, after I’d spent countless moments explaining to Ruthie that spiders help eat bugs. This, after I’d told myself every night to pretend I was on the frontier and to BUCK UP. This, after breathing 1-2-3 at every encounter so I wouldn’t scream…
Who cares about “this”. I’m outta here. Have fun giving the girls a bath on your birthday Ryan.