Gems from Pearlie Meg: One Year Older and Wiser, Too

My baby is one! That is so crazy. Although if you had asked Glen last night, he would have told you that Isaac was only a week old. (this was in a conversation about our taxes in which i wanted to make certain he was claiming isaac as a dependent and he responded, "no, isaac was born january 15, 2014." really? i don't recall giving birth last week! i had a good chortle at his expense.)

Yep, following in his mother's footsteps and having mac and cheese for birthday dinner.

The extent of my creativity.

Anyway, Isaac's birthday was a pretty quiet affair; just us. Yes, yes, how terrible of me not to throw a huge blow-out party for a one-year-old! Isaac, like at Christmas, didn't know what was going on, anyway, so I'm not too torn up about it. His presents for his birthday weren't nearly as fun as at Christmas, since a month ago he got a bunch of toys, whereas last week he got clothes. Clothes are never as fun to get, are they?

He kept his make-shift party hat on for about a second.

On a related note, sometimes it's difficult for both Glen and I to be musical, because we both automatically jump to harmony when we sing together and nobody's left on the melody. Oops! (sound familiar, kelly? mom?) Jensen tradition dictates that we sing "Happy Birthday" to someone in a notoriously bad fashion, but Glen and I figured maybe our kids should grow up at least knowing what the tune sounds like before we mangle it for each other.

Okay, so Isaac didn't know why we were singing at him, but that doesn't mean he didn't enjoy the cake. Because he sure did. By the end of eating, he was a sticky green-fingered monster. But what a cute one!

I love the shot of both of them stuffing their faces.

Please, Mom, I want some more.

A couple days before Isaac's birthday, he had his first major catastrophe -- he fell down the stairs! GAH! We'd taught him how to turn himself around at the top of the stairs in order to go down backwards, which he was getting the hang of quite well, but he didn't get himself completely turned around this time before gravity took effect and I wasn't there in time to catch him. Not. Cool. Mom. So dooooooooown he went, and he was justly upset at me, but I was mainly relieved that he didn't sustain any serious injuries. Lucky. Mom. He's willing to go near the stairs (and still very happily and rapidly climbs them), but he's unsurprisingly reluctant to turn himself around without a little encouragement and reassurance that I'm right there. At least he's back to a point where he will go down once I've helped him turn. But yeesh! I'm very lucky I didn't break my child.

"Building" with Daddy

He'd still rather play with anything but his own toys, as evidenced by the fact that it's increasingly hard for me to work with him constantly wanting to get in on my computer keyboard action. He does enjoy his various blocks and wooden rings because of the good clacking noise they make. He's gotten the hang of his sippy cup the last couple of weeks, which is neat because I really didn't know when he'd willingly use it. And just the last couple of days, he's taken to crawling around on his hands and feet (yep, feet. not knees), which is pretty hilarious to watch. He'll occasionally stop and look between his legs to look behind, which is naturally adorable. But he never crawls anywhere without the intention of pulling himself up to his feet if he can. He is a good little cruiser.