It's Charlie's Party

And he cried all the way through it. We'd been looking forward to Charlie's 1st birthday for months now, planning everything just so knowing we're on the cusp of creating this wonderful memory. We created a memory alright. Just not quite the one we'd envisioned.

Lets journey back to somewhere around month eleven when we had to take Chuck in for a sick visit on a Saturday. As we said our goodbyes, I remembered I needed to reschedule his one year appointment. I insisted we could do it on his birthday...what's the big deal...he'd never had any reaction to shots before other than being sleepy...I'm fine with him sleeping on his birthday...he'll be all rested up for his party on Saturday. Boo in your face, Kathryn. You're an idiot.

Charlie woke up in a great mood on his birthday. We had birthday pancakes and played with the decorations around the house, and for about two hours his birthday was perfect.

Then we left for the doctor. We returned home with three pricks in his leg, and he settled in for a wickedly short nap. Weird. We went to lunch with his GaGa and Papa, and returned home to no nap at all. Extra weird. We put him down that night, and he could barely keep his eyes open long enough to get his pjs on, but within the hour, he was up. Crying, shaking (chills...the nurse thinks), and manically hyper. Once I got him up, gave him Advil and started to settle him back down for sleep, he could not stop moving or talking. "Uh, oh, uh, oh, uh, oh, uh, oh, uh, oh...dododododododododododo...whasstha, whasstha, whasstha..." And as soon as we'd get him down within an hour or so, he'd pop right back up. By the time my brother arrived at eleven, Charlie was up for the third time, and John and I were at a loss. Lets just say the night carried on with lots of crying and little sleep. I'm not quite sure what happened, and the nurse I talked to swore shots don't cause hyper-activity, but I think I'll beg to differ. The next morning none of us where in party-mode, but Charlie took two normal naps, and we were hopeful he'd rally for the afternoon.

Nope. With each arriving guest, he grew increasingly agitated. We set up the party out back (Charlie's absolute favorite place to be), and he wouldn't even stay out there. He kept walking me inside to sit in his room. What a social butterfly. And while most of the party games were created with his older friends and cousins in mind, I thought he'd love digging in the sand or planting a flower. Nope. All wrong, Mom. He didn't want to play, he didn't want to eat, he didn't want to be sang to, he surely didn't want any cake, he didn't want any presents, etc. etc. etc. Everything was wrong and nothing was right. We got one smile the entire night when his friend Oli suggested they take a bath together before bedtime. Sweet, little two-year-old Oli knew exactly what he needed.

Admittedly, Saturday night and into Sunday, I was pretty disappointed. I'd poured so much stinking energy into making his party "one to remember" that I might have forgotten for a minute he doesn't really care. And while I've threatened to never do much of anything for his upcoming birthdays, I think I'll probably just skip getting his shots beforehand. What an idiot I am. What a freaking idiot.

Happy birthday, Chuck. They can only go up from here. I promise.

Party Favors - Plant your own flower.

Gnome Knockdown 

Digging for Treasure

Charlie's your Gnomie?

Twelve Months of Chuck