Henry Turns 1!

If I was a schizophrenic, my alternate personality would be curled up in a corner with a bottle of cheap wine crying over the end of Henry’s first year. Luckily, I’m not. Nothing against cheap wine though…that Arbor Mist stuff is the best kept secret in Rite Aid’s wine section. I kid. I kid…Really, I’ve never had it *cough, cough*.

So, before I start my paragraph about how much I love Henry and how much fun it’s been having him in our family, I would like to share with you one of the many reasons I love my husband. Yes, of course one of them is that one year ago today, it was just to two of us in our bedroom welcoming a fat, pink, little boy into the world with Violet sleeping in the other room. Of course I love him for that, but that’s a no-brainer. I’d be crazy not to love the guy who had his pregnant wife turn to him on the way to church one morning two weeks before the birth of their second child to inform him that not only did she want to have the baby at home instead of at a hospital, but also with no one else attending. What did he do? Well, of course he said yes, because everyone knows you don’t disagree with a woman who can’t see her feet over her pregnant belly.

Anyway, here’s another reason I love him. This evening for dinner we took the chillun’s to Red Robin. It was the most reliable place to be loud enough to cover the noise of two children under three eating dinner. That, and they do that whole birthday song and a sundae thing for birthdays. Towards the end of our meal, we ordered a chocolate banana shake to share around. I didn’t make a cake today since we’re celebrating his birthday with the extended family after we move. When you order a shake at Red Robin, they come with the rest of the shake in the icy metal container it was mixed in. I picked it up and started in with a spoon, which was a good idea. If future me had also been there, I would certainly have told myself not to put the spoon down and try to drink the melty parts right out of the canister. But I wasn’t, so I did. I tipped it back and three things happened all at once.

Instead of a gentle stream of chocolate-banana-melty goodness, the entire mass of ice cream shake came straight for me. It was like being at the ocean and not timing a wave right and getting the whole thing right in your open mouth. Except that it was not just in my mouth. Since my head was tipped back, I got milkshake so far up my nose that I’m pretty sure if I cleaned my ears with Q-tips, chocolate shake would come out.

Immediately, I wanted nothing more than to die. Die, dead, gone. I just wanted a giant wall of immortality to swallow up the wave of frozen shame that had just engulfed the lower half of my face.

The third thing that happened was that AJ saw the entire thing. As I’m frantically scrambling for shreds of my lost dignity, AJ sat back with a giant guffaw of a laugh and reached for another french fry. No “Can I help you, dear wife who is also holding my crazed beast of a son while attempt to mop ice cream off your face, neck, and shirt?” None of that. His reaction was pretty much “Dinner and a show! Nice.”

The only other thing I have to say about this is that the only thing I can smell is chocolate. It’s been three hours.

AJ just fell asleep on the couch. More on Henry later then…