HAPPY 2nd BIRTHDAY, Monkey Baby!

My girl. She's 2.

Last year we threw a party for her, but not really. We threw it for us. We wanted to celebrate her before she really had the capacity to celebrate herself. It was great - our friends came, we ate cake, E loved playing with her gifts, and I've almost blocked out the sugar-induced tantrum at bedtime.

This year I can honestly say that this one's for her. Last year I was obsessed with what food to serve and if there would be enough chairs and getting all of the decorations in place. But all I could think about last night was her face when she woke up this morning. Would she know already? Would I have to remind her? Would she ask to open presents or eat cupcakes first? I haven't really spent much time on putting together a fancy do, because I know that she could care less about that. She wants cupcakes and balloons. She wants to share her cupcakes with her friends. She wants to open the presents that she's been moving around the apartment all week. And she's going to get all of that.

I did some cleaning, I did quite a bit of cupcake-making, and a little wrapping. But mostly I spent my time working myself into a birthday tizzy alongside my little monkeypants. And today I'm just enjoying. It's a full day, with Anabelle to look after, a playdate to take up our morning, yoga in the afternoon and a party tonight, but I'm going to go about it with one agenda: fun. Because that, my friends, is what it's all about.

Happy, Happy Birthday to my precious girl. Life is sweeter with you in it. And not just because I have frosting on my fingers.

**

An early morning wake-up from Da-da before he left for work:

Birthday kisses from Ralph:

Some pre-breakfast present opening:

Cupcakes!!!

Birthday playdate!

Don't go, Gramma!

We found out a few days ago that Gramma Leslie was coming into town for work. Just in time for E's birthday! When the buzzer rang, she stood patiently in the living room, waiting for Gramma to get upstairs. She was very quiet, but I could see the anticipation bursting from the ends of her newly-coiffed hair. When she made it upstairs, E yelled "Welcome to E's house, Gramma!" and gave her one of her trademark running hugs. We had a delicious dinner from a new place we've been meaning to try, some really great wine that we got for a steal, and when it was time for bed, Elle had only one request. Gramma, don't go!

100 Blocks

E is super excited for her birthday, which is - strictly speaking - not for another 32 hours and 4 minutes, but which will begin in earnest somewhere around 6:50 tomorrow morning when she opens her sleepy eyes and realizes that the moment she's been waiting for for weeks has finally come. Time to open presents!!!

Today I caught her staring out the window saying "100 blocks away! It's 100 blocks away!" When I asked her what was 100 blocks away, she responded "E's birthday!"

100 blocks seems like an awfully long way, much longer than 1 sleep.

"It's 14 blocks away! It's 6 blocks away!"

Of course, the way she counts, I should probably get a move on with these cupcakes.

E's first haircut!

We wanted it to be special. Partly because we're sentimental people and we like to make a big deal out of things when we can. And partly because we're cheap and this kind of thing isn't going to happen on a regular basis. We managed to go 1 year and 363 days without taking our daughter to a hair salon, and what better time to do it than for her birthday? Every girl wants to be pampered and look smashing on her birthday, right?

The last time mom went to get her hair cut, we made a big deal about how much fun it was, hinting to E that she might get to do it too someday. She remembered. Weeks later she was still saying "Nice hair, mama!" She's very thoughtful that way.

So when we told her that she was getting her hair done for her birthday, at the same place where she goes for her beloved Jitterbugs class...well, she was enthusiastic.

She tossed back the last of her raisins and posed for a quick pre-cut photo with mom.

Then she greeted her hairdresser with a somewhat subdued "Hi Margret!" She's always a little shy with newbies at first, but once Margret pulled out the Elmo DVD, the fishy smock and the Sesame Street remote control, E was smitten.

Toss in a clippy, a balloon and a lollipop (way to go hard to the hoop there, Margret) and it was just about the most fun experience ever.

And what do you do with your new and improved adorable toddler to celebrate a successful first salon visit? Why, you go to lunch! In our case, we went to our usual spot for family breakfast, and soaked up loads of attention from anyone who happened to look in our direction.

Man, I love this kid.

Super indeed.

This is, without question, the best bread that J or I have ever tasted. Ever. Sorry mom - I do love your homemade bread. Sorry Paris - your baguettes are mouth watering. But this little plastic wrapped miracle out of New Jersey just takes things to a whole new level. It's impossibly moist, wonderfully nutty, and just a little bit sweet. Why, it's the best thing since...oh, forget it. It's too easy.

Birthday Countdown

In 5 days my little girl will be 2. That means that 2 years ago I was sitting at home in Toronto, halfway through my official 10-day countdown, making half-hearted plans to watch the Superbowl that I would ultimately miss in favour of doing something just about as noisy but far more painful...depending on who you were cheering for, I suppose.

She totally gets it this year. Last year she appreciated it, she enjoyed it, but she didn't really get it. This year she has been asking about her birthday for weeks, since I first brought it up. She keeps asking where her birthday cake is, and if she would settle on a flavour it would really make my life a lot easier. We've gone from strawberry to chocolate to vanilla, and tonight it was back to chocolate, with the stipulation that Dada (whose birthday is later in the month) has a strawberry cake. How's that for covering your bases? She knows that it's different from Christmas in that she will be the only one to get presents. She knows that right now she is 1, but in 5 days (or 5 minutes, when she's feeling impatient) she will be 2. Sometimes she'll try to trick you by claiming she will be 4, or even 5, but upon further questioning she will issue a loud guffaw and say Noooooooo! in that tone of voice that says "Geez, and you guys are supposed to be the smart ones."

And she knows what this is:

It's a gift from Gramma Barby and Papa Ger, and for some reason when it arrived I decided to plunk it on the living room floor instead of hiding it in the darkest recesses of the closet. I'll be honest. I did it purely to torture her. I wanted to see what her reaction would be knowing that there was a gift for her that she couldn't open until her birthday. Cruel? Maybe. But isn't that one of the perks of parenthood? Or did I read the wrong manual again? At any rate, she has been surprisingly mature about the whole thing, unlike her mother. She wants it, but she hasn't once gotten even mildly upset about having to wait. Although my heart skipped a beat when I turned around this morning and saw this:

They sure are making awfully realistic-looking toys these days.

Once the felt knife failed her, she called on her limited jiu-jitsu skills...

But they proved no match for cardboard and tape. Guess she's just going to have to wait this one out.

Maybe I should buy a shovel.

Wow. I'm not sure that NYC has ever seen this much snow.

The girl and I were out enjoying another snow day this morning, building snowmen and taking pictures.

My absolute favourite part about snow days in Brooklyn is the neighbourliness. First of all, it is shocking to me how quickly everyone gets out and shovels their patch of sidewalk. Sure, it may be purely done out of fear of being fined, but still, it gets done and it sure is nice. The other thing I notice is that our entire street turns into one big water cooler. People stop to chat as they take breaks from shovelling, or as they trudge, lackadaisically and without much purpose, to the subway to make an appearance at work. No one is in a hurry, very few are in a bad mood, and people stand in the middle of what was just yesterday a busy intersection to discuss anything that comes to mind.

I also love the excuse to go in and grab another cup of hot chocolate.

Oh, and I have a good suspicion that we're not getting any of this today:

How to Give a Toddler a Needle

After the world's most surreal, and ultimately successful, experience at the blood lab today, I feel compelled to share my newly minted expertise with all of you. Anyone have a toddler? Need to stick them with a needle any time soon? Read on...

1. Have one parent enroll in medical school, preferably before the child is born.

2. Purchase a doctor kit for the child, preferably several months in advance of the appointment.

3. Show child how fun it is to be a doctor and have him or her routinely examine stuffed animals, using a stethoscope to listen to their hearts and administering needles to their behinds.

4. Announce the "field trip" to your toddler as soon as he or she wakes up, making sure to mention the ice cream that will follow.

5. Have a fun way to get to the doctor's office on the morning of the appointment, such as a subway ride.

6. Run laps around the waiting room and play a few rousing games of ring around the rosy while you wait.

7. Have onlookers encourage your toddler's cheerful mood by commenting repeatedly on her cuteness.

**The success of the following steps is critically dependent on successful completion of Steps 1-3. If you have not completed these steps in sequence, cancel the appointment, return to Step 1 and start over.

8. As he or she sits on your lap before the dreaded stick, show your fascinated toddler the vials and the needle and tubing and explain that the blood is going to be tested to make sure it's healthy.

9. Mention, just before sticking, that it will hurt going in, but not a lot, and it will only hurt for a second. At this point, remind him or her that there is ice cream in his or her immediate future.

10. Hold on tight and pray to whomever you feel would be most helpful to you at this point.

11. Watch in utter amazement as your toddler observes the proceedings with inexplicable calm and attentiveness.

12. Leave sleeve rolled up following bandage application to allow your toddler to run rampant through the hospital, showing you and strangers alike how lucky she is to have just received this amazing accessory from a very nice doctor.

13. Eat ice cream.

You're welcome.

Now, you can learn from my mistakes and take the experience one step further by documenting the whole thing with a camera. You will just have to take my word for it, but believe me, you'll have a much easier time convincing people that it happened if you have the pictures to prove it.

Playdate!

E and I went over to Clare's house yesterday for a playdate. Madeleine came too. Three little toddler girls running rampant while three attentive caregivers looked on left me wondering why I haven't tried to do this more often.

Apart from her tight little circle consisting of AB and GG, E doesn't really hang with many other kids. She has her regular buddies in each of her classes that she enjoys every week, but until yesterday we hadn't made the leap to playdate-land with any of them. To be honest, it's all my fault.

I have an inferiority complex. It makes me shy away from reaching out and making friends on account of the fact that I'm pretty sure I'm not cool enough to be friends with any of the people we meet. It's lame, I know. But there it is.

Anyhoo, fortunately for me, not everyone is quite as lame as I am, and Clare's dad went ahead and got the ball rolling. And it was super. Lots of fun. We're going to do it again next week. I mean, tell me this isn't something you would want to be looking at on a regular basis:

Playing by the Rules

It's all about rules these days. Sure, we've got lots of them that we're trying to get E to follow, like no whining, saying please and thank you, staying in bed until 7:00am...you get the idea. But far more important, at least in the eyes of one toddler and two parents trying desperately to keep her happy, are the rules that E is establishing for our household. She is forging swiftly and bravely into that stage of toddlerhood where things must happen in very specific and reliable ways, and if they don't, well, there are as yet no limits to the depths of her - shall we politely say - discontent?

Case in point: Breakfast.

9 mornings out of 10 it consists of blueberries and yogurt. Somtimes we substitute with strawberries, occasionally we break out of the routine with cereal or pancakes, and as of late she has, unsuccessfully, been trying to bend the rules to include snacks like raisins and granola bars. It's not so much the regularity of the menu that matters, but how that menu is served.

This is what I hear every, every morning as I'm preparing her breakfast:

"Blueberries and yogurt please, mama. First bite blueberries. I help mama with first bite of blueberries. Then - yogurt time!!!" (double fist pump)

If I screw up the order and try to give her yogurt first or - gasp - mix the blueberries into the yogurt before she gets that first bite of pure, unadulterated blueberry...you can't imagine. And people, sometimes I'm doing this before my first cup of coffee. I'm not at my best. She's got me on eggshells, this one. Also, we must both be touching the spoon for that first bite. After that, she can feed herself or I can feed her, no big deal, but that first bite is key. JUST blueberries, mama AND E holding the spoon.

Now...who wants to babysit???