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| my daughter eating her first birthday cake |
Years have come and gone since my daughter had her first birthday. We celebrated that one with her granddaddy and her step-grandmother at their home in Texas. My husband and I decorated the cake (I had planned it with a cupcake on top to give to her). We make a brown sugar bear on it because we had called her “Becky Bear” since the day she was born (just to let you know—we don’t call her that anymore). Here’s a picture of that cake:
After she blew out the candle—with help from her parents, we gave her the cupcake on top and let her have fun. As you can see in the first picture, we put newspaper underneath her to catch the mess. We had a lot of fun and memories from that day. As a side note, it was on her first birthday that she took her first steps by herself.
A few days ago, I was watching my granddaughter and I told her that in two days’ we would be having her mommy’s birthday. She said, “Birthday cake.” I told her that Mommy would blow out the candles. She said that she and her mommy would blow out the candles. I didn’t make a big deal out of it, after all, who would win in a fight like that with a three-year-old.
After the family dinner of manicotti, salad, and garlic bread (all my daughter’s choices), I brought out the birthday cake with candles. And as my granddaughter had said, she helped her mommy blow out the candles. By the way, my daughter’s birthday cake this year was tiramisu (again, her choice) and there were no bears anywhere around.
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