you say it's your birthday

and the fabulous henry turned three.



three! how is this possible? i'm still just a girl! and now i'm the proud mama of a boy who pumps a tricycle to grandmama's house. a boy who flings his arms around my neck and loves me the most, more than anyone worldwide and universal. a boy who sparkles and flies, whose grin shoots moonbeam and firefly fire.



truly, it is better to give than to receive. never have we enjoyed birthday (and all that comes with it) more.

to the chagrin of this mama we've a barking dinner of hot dogs (with ketchup, of course). sometimes a hot dog sounds so good, though. sometimes.



and cake-wise, i've found my forte (and i still went to college! and grad school!). the illustrious cupcake. the form of which is fluffed perfection. the frosting rises in a spiking swirl of minty delight. sprinkles partly sprinkled by the birthday boy extraordinaire.



and jude is growing, too! he's drinking from a juice box without assistance (in fact, insisting on the withdrawal of assistance) and peeking under the table for something mysterious. peeking for his own birthday, perhaps, which comes fast and flashing and furious on monday.





these boys! all bloodied and red, screaming out their liveliness with first breath. what is this life that sends us soaring with youth and zip into motherhood, fatherhood, parenthood, all in an electric swirl? all at once we're here when we once were there, and we don't want to talk about it because it's all so frightening and fast. lickety split.