I'm the Party of the Day!

This is kinda cool. I shared Robinson's birthday party with Catch My Party, since it was such a great source of ideas for me when planning Rob's party, and guess what? Rob's party is featured on their main page as a "Party of the Day". That's so nice!

Wordless Wednesday

Rob is One.

Robinson's birthday party was a big success! I was very touched by the excellent turnout...

"Uncle" Bean: [scanning the room filled with wall-to-wall people] This is a lot [of people]. I was not expecting this.

Me: I know! I can't believe so many people came out today!

Uncle Bean: How many people did you invite?

Me: Uhh...50?

Bean: Why did you do that?

Me: [quietly] I don't know. I didn't think anybody would come.

I don't know why I have this anxiety that nobody is ever coming to my parties. We are very fortunate to have lots of people who love us, and they all fought the oppressive heat to travel to our little corner of Texas to celebrate our baby boy's first birthday.

This was obviously my first time planning a child's birthday party, and let me just say that even the simple cake and punch home parties today are vastly more elaborate than when I was growing up. I began brainstorming and planning Rob's party way back in January, and it's a good thing I did, because it took a long time to make all this stuff and to get an education in Children's Party Planning in the Year 2011. I have to credit sites like Catch My Party and numerous blogs and sites where I researched and found inspiration in planning Rob's shindig. I feel like I ought to share some of what I learned here on my blog since I learned so much from the dozens of blogs I read. Pay it forward, right? 

The party had a vintage toy theme and a red and aqua color scheme. My inspiration? The invitations:

I found them on Etsy!

I turned the entry table into a display for vintage and retro toys and books. I "shopped my house", though I did have lofty ideas about a Classic Sock Monkey, jacks, marbles, yo-yo's, jump ropes and a Slinky. Ultimately, I chose to concentrate my party budget on the food instead of buying toys. And check out the photo collage that's hanging in the spot usually reserved for my bridal portrait. Do those pics look familiar? They are the monthly "Rob and Laney" photos arranged chronologically in a Shutterfly collage poster.  I also replaced other wall decor throughout the house with framed portraits of Rob. You know, so everyone knows that it's all about Robinson. 

Ever since I saw "sweets stylist" Amy Atlas on the Today show talking about creating dessert tables for holiday parties last year, I have been itching to create a dessert table. I had never heard of them before, but I suddenly felt that they were absolutely crucial to the success of a party.

I scoured the internet for blogs and photos to teach myself how to create a dessert table. Perhaps I could save people some of that work and share what I learned are the key elements to creating a dessert table:

1. Identify a color palette to use throughout the table
2. Create a backdrop. Mine is foam board covered in gift wrap, but there are loads of other clever and creative ideas. A Google Image search is a great place to start looking.
3. Use a tablecloth. Aesthetically, the tablecloth was more important than I originally thought. 
4. Use risers to create a height variation. Dessert tables where all items are placed flat on the table look a little "off". This riser was created using a giftwrapped box, but I've seen professional tables that use polystyrene blocks, acrylic blocks or risers...you're really limited only by your imagination and your financial resources. Mostly your financial resources.
5. Create a symmetrical presentation. I've seen tables with a more varied presentation, with varieties of candies and sweets on pedestal stands and in jars, and it looks terrific. If you're a dessert table novice like me, and don't already have all the serving platters and pieces, it can get expensive in a hurry if you're trying to duplicate an elaborate display seen on designer blogs and in magazines. I had all sorts of cute ideas, mostly involving red rope licorice, blue sour straws, custom M&Ms, and apothecary jars. But guess how expensive it is to collect a half-dozen large apothecary jars and 20 pounds of candy to fill them? Very. Think in the hundreds of dollars, and you better be careful you don't buy old, gnarly candy from some wholesale candy warehouse unloading old product. Guess who can't eat candy? The birthday boy and most of his friends. Guess who won't eat candy? The health conscious adults who composed the majority of my guests. I loved the idea, but ultimately decided to pass on candy this year.

After a few practice runs, I baked this cake from scratch, y'all. My baking adventure deserves it's own post, so stay tuned for that. The bottom tier of this cake is 7-Up pound cake with lemon buttercream filling. My great grandmother used to make 7-Up cake for me when I was little, so it's a sentimental favorite. Added bonus: its density makes it ideal for stacking tiers of cake. The top tier is red velvet cake with cream cheese frosting filling. I covered the cake in marshmallow fondant. I won't lie, it's kind of a big undertaking, but I wanted a big cake, and I knew that a professional cake this size covered in fondant would have likely cost over $100. How much do I estimate I spent in supplies and ingredients to create this cake, plus the previous cakes I made as my "trial runs"? Let's not talk about that. I think by his third or fourth birthday this little investment will have paid for itself. Plus, I had fun. It was a great creative outlet for me. I wish I had cakes to bake for him all the time!

My kid likes banana pudding, and Paula Deen's "Not Yo Mama's Banana Pudding" is the tastiest recipe I've tried. So that's the story behind that. Not everybody at the party tried the pudding, but everybody who did try the pudding went back for seconds and requested the recipe.

It was important that I made treats for the party that my son and his buddies could eat, but that the adults would also want to eat. Hopefully I struck that balance with the blondies, brownies, and chocolate chip cookie bars that rounded out my dessert table. If I had a little more time, and table space, I think I would have included something like sliced strawberries. I offered no fruit at this party, and I think this group would have enjoyed something like that. I think next year I will omit one of the baked goods in favor of some fruit and a cream cheese dip.

Everything at this party was available in miniature. Miniature brownies, miniature burgers, and a miniature Radio Flyer as a cake topper! Apparently Radio Flyer made these a few years ago, but no more! I scored this bad boy on eBay.

I was convinced this party required a "birthday banner" and I enjoyed making this for Rob.

Sliders and mini hot dogs (or hot dogs that we cut in half, if you want to get technical). I called them "baby burgers" and "hot pups". You know, because it's a party for a baby. It seemed fitting.

 I may have gone a little nuts making tent cards to identify everything.

I made a huge batch of homemade mac n cheese, but even if nobody but Robinson ate it, the effort was well worth it! He had THREE bowls!

For all my planning, I wasn't quite sure what to do besides make sure everybody had a beverage and that all children who locked themselves in the bathroom were rescued. About an hour into the party, I asked one of the guests, a father of three, "What do I do? Cake, then presents?" Turns out you do presents. Then cake. This is what Robinson wanted to do while we were opening presents:

He's fascinated. Lucky for me, who felt a little silly and self conscious about opening a dozen or so presents intended for a one year old boy by myself, while my child sat absentmindedly nearby, there were a couple of sweet little girls who were super stoked about opening Rob's presents for him. Blogger's Note: Rubik's Cube was decoration from entryway, not a new gift.

"This present is from me. Well, actually, my dad bought it. But it's from me."

 Could these sweet girls be any more excited to open these gifts?

"Look, Robinson!"

This party hat was made on impulse earlier in the week. I didn't even expect him to wear it, but "Uncle Scotty" was quick thinking and balanced the hat on his head in the middle of singing "Happy Birthday" so that Angie could snap a quick photo. He looks contemplative, yes? He was actually really happy to have all of us singing to him and cheering for him. I knew that could be a little overwhelming for a tot, so I practiced with him in the week or two before the party. Every time he sat down for a meal I would sing "Happy Birthday" and cheer enthusiastically. By the time of the party he was accustomed to this and smiled big.

A birthday bib might have been a good idea. I actually didn't plan a bib at all, and if he got dirty that was fine with me. It really made no difference. He played with the frosting a little, and ate a couple bites after some coaxing from me. By the time he blew out his candle, he had eaten the three bowls of mac n cheese and two cups of chocolate milk. He was STUFFED.

This was a favorite moment: Scotty took Rob's hands and plopped them splat against either side of the cake, and Rob just kept them there. I'm not kidding, he didn't move his hands for a full minute or two.

All the beautiful photos in this post were taken by Angie. Thanks, girl! It was great to be able to enjoy the party, mingle with guests and be "in the moment" without having to sacrifice having photos. Plus your camera is bad-ass, and you're highly skilled and loaded with talent.

We had a wonderful day. Thanks to everyone who helped make Robinson's day extra special, and for being so wonderful throughout the year! We love y'all! Already thinking about next year...

One

I thought I'd be in a puddle of tears today because my first born, my only child, is no longer a baby and now a toddler. Today is his first birthday. I'm a crier. I cry when I'm sad. I cry when I'm happy. I cry during the local news. I cry during the cheesy predictable ending of a romantic comedy. Today, I haven't cried. As a matter of fact, I've been the opposite of crying. I've been downright euphoric. Giddy. Happy. Robinson and I began our day at the pediatrician's office for Rob's one-year check-up, where I greeted the doctor with such enthusiasm that he was taken aback. "Wow. You're...bubbly." He actually took a step backwards. All I did was smile and say hello, I promise. Robinson's doctor is always reacting with surprise to see me in a good mood. What does he expect? Do all you mothers out there go to the pediatrician's office in crabby moods and I just don't know about it? I mean, I can imagine he encounters many mothers on a daily basis who are visiting him because their child is sick or injured, and I wouldn't expect them to be peppy; but I've only been to the pediatrician for the well-baby check ups. Should I be in a sour mood about that? Maybe my doctor is a glass-half-empty kind of guy, and he enters each appointment with the expectation that the mother is going to be a complete chore. I dunno. I'm not gonna speculate.

After the pediatrician, we went to an early lunch at Chick-Fil-A. I thought he might enjoy the play area. It's called "Toddler Town". It's an entire town for toddlers! What could be more fun? Well, if I was feeling wistful  earlier that my "baby" is all grown up, Toddler Town showed me that my tot isn't all that grown up. There was no way he could have held his own in Toddler Town. There were tots in there with ankles bigger than Rob's thighs. My kid's gonna have to learn how to scrap before he can play in there. Also, he needs to learn how to walk. I saw no crawling in Toddler Town. Robinson sat happily for an hour, watching all the children run around and play. His mind was blown.

Steve and I are so grateful for our healthy, beautiful, sweet, precocious baby boy, and we're excited for what the next year holds for our family of three!

Step Right Up, and Feast Your Eyes on A PAIR OF REDHEADS!

In case you haven't noticed, my son Robinson and I both have red hair. If I ever forget that my red hair is an anomaly, there are plenty of strangers eager to remind me. As I've gotten older, and therefore more likely to go out with a ponytail pulled through a ball cap, people make fewer comments to me about my hair. But, now that I have a redheaded baby, we attract considerable attention. As the title of this post hints, I do at times feel like a bit of a freak show. Here are the odds of what's likely to happen if Robinson and I ever go out in public together:

9 out of 10: chance that someone will approach Robinson and strike up a conversation with him about his hair. Robinson can't talk of course, because he is a baby, so I stop checking the expiration dates on the milk in the dairy case and engage a stranger in a conversation about hair.

3 out of 4: chance that the person who approaches me will have a family history of red hair and will launch into a detailed account of their family tree, which members of their family have red hair, which generations the red hair skipped, and miscellaneous redhead topics, such as the occurrence of red hair with blue eyes versus red hair with brown eyes.

1 out of 10: chance that the person who approaches me will somehow insult red hair or pay a back-handed compliment.

Example:
Wal-Mart Employee: "My baby has red hair. Of course, he's all grown up now. He got to where he really hated it--said he got tired of everywhere he went he got noticed."
Me: [laughing] Yeah, I know the feeling.

Wal-Mart Employee sheepishly scurries away and pretends to rearrange the eggs in the dairy case.

Meow! I didn't realize until typing this that my reply was kind of pointed and catty. That was not my intention. I basically said it sucks that strangers (read: her) approach me everywhere I go because I have bright red hair. Then again, I was responding to her statement, which was basically, "My son has hair the same color as you--and he hates it." I'd call that an unintended insult. If you can think of a nicer way to respond to that, I'm all ears.

Another funny aspect of the "redhead conversation" is when a person who knows a redhead approaches me, and they like to discuss what I would call "the plight of the redhead". It's basically all the stereotypes about the "redhead experience", which they seem to  believe is universally shared by all redheads. They'll say things like, "I bet people gave you hell when you were a kid, but you like your hair now!" or "Ya know, redheads don't turn gray like so many other hair colors. Your hair color will probably just slowly fade," or "Have you ever noticed that most redheads are pasty and ugly?" or "Redheads bleed a lot when you cut them". All true. Seriously, whenever I am being prepped for surgery (as you do so often) and the nurses or surgical techs get a look at me and my copper locks, they shake their heads and say to one of the associates "No one told us she was a redhead. We're gonna need more blood."

If I sound like I dislike mine and my son's shared red hair, I don't. Nor do I mind that people approach us. My mom told me this would happen. She said grocery shopping took much longer with  Baby Samantha because people wanted to talk to her about my hair. And because every time a stranger approached me I wanted them to pick me up and take me with them. She had to keep a close eye on me. There are much worse things in life than being on the receiving end of positive attention. Added bonus: if (God forbid) something terrible happened to Robinson and me, like we went missing, and police were investigating our disappearance by retracing our last known whereabouts, I feel pretty confident that people at Wal-Mart, Kroger, Starbucks, etc. would remember us. I know, I know, that's a very morose place for my mind to wander...I'm just sayin'. I find comfort in being distinctive for that reason alone.

Stillwell Angel

Remember "Stillwell Angel" from A League of their Own?

That little boy who behaved like a complete monster unless he was granted his beloved chocolate bars? Well, I have a "Stillwell Angel" on my hands, but instead of demanding chocolate bars...he demands my cell phone.

He won't accept any substitutes. It has to be my phone. And it's gotten to the point where I can't pull my phone out in his presence unless I'm willing to surrender it to him. I like to use the calculator on my phone to tabulate the cost of my groceries as I'm shopping. Not anymore. Robinson will confiscate it. Heaven help me if I actually need to talk on the phone while he's playing with it. He once came unglued while I was trying to talk to Steve, screaming so loudly I couldn't hear Steve, and I hissed at Robinson, "I do not negotiate with terrorists!" I'm taken by surprise by this turn of events. I know it's too early for the Terrible Two's (if eleven months isn't too early for the Terrible Two's, that's a very inaccurate characterization).

"Give me muh phone!"

What's a mom to do with a child who is feisty and opinionated; outspoken, yet inarticulate; and bent on global domination? Oh, and too smart to be fooled by slight of hand or other attempts at distraction. If I try to be sly and stuff the phone between two couch cushions for instance, he knows it's there. And he doesn't forget. When my little angel morphs into this feisty, furious creature, he is known as "Stewie Griffin". If Steve calls to check on us and I announce that "We have a Code: Stewie", he knows what that means--can't talk now, pick up dinner on the way home. And don't forget the booze.

Another thing, since it's hot, and he's a ragamuffin, I've taken to dressing him in those Huggies diapers that look like blue jeans, and nothing else. It's pretty cute. Then, this morning, I went into his room to greet him. I guess I kept him waiting for too long (while I was making his breakfast), because he had thrown his stuffed animals out of the crib, stripped off his diaper, and tossed the diaper out of the crib. He. Was. Pissed.

We Did it Steve's Way | Robinson's First Haircut

I had ideas about how Robinson's first haircut would play out. I would wait until he was about 14 months old. I had no real reason for choosing that age. I just thought it seemed like a good age for a first haircut. He would be old enough to have grown sufficient hair to be cut, and we wouldn't be cutting his hair so early as to make him look like a toddler prematurely, and we wouldn't be delaying the haircut to such an age as to tread into Kate Hudson territory:

That's a little boy.

I may occasionally dress in the style of "boho chic", but I am not one of those hippie people who doesn't believe in short hair on little boys. And my husband doesn't believe in bowl cuts. So there's our philosophy on boys' hair.

Sidenote: at a baby shower earlier this year, I pointed out to Amy that celebrity spawn Ryder Robinson is the child of actress Kate Hudson and rocker Chris Robinson and that Amy's baby's name is Hudson and my baby's name is Robinson and she and I are the best of friends and isn't that interesting? Amy says that this isn't interesting, but she isn't at all surprised that I would think of this.

Robinson's first haircut came earlier than anticipated for three reasons:

1. He grew the oh-so-desirable "baby mullet"

2. He was mistaken for a little girl by a well-meaning restaurant patron.

3. His hair is always falling into his eyes, like the Looney Tunes quail

I mean, did you see that last picture? It looked like he'd already had his hair cut...with a Suck Kut...

"It certainly does suck..."

So, back when I planned for Robinson's perfect first haircut at the perfect age of 14 months, I wanted to take him to a perfect stylist I once worked with named Savanh. Savanh is super fabulous and a very talented stylist. She cuts adults' hair, but the adults love her so much, and she is so wonderful with children, her adult clients bring their children to her. She takes her time and lovingly creates personalized styles for each and every tot who sits in her chair. She charges $35 for a kid's hair cut. That's high for a kid's cut, but she's worth it. Steve had other ideas involving a trip to Great Clips. Marriage is about compromise, so I gave in without protest. Ok, maybe I rolled my eyes.

 And if I wet his hair and style it, it looks like this for a little while:

...before it morphs into what I affectionately refer to as "The Friar Tuck":

So yeah, I love the haircut. You know what's the weirdest part? He has this "big boy haircut" that makes him look like he's two years old, but he doesn't act like a sophisticated toddler on the brink of preschool. He still grunts and snorts and swipes at my coffee mug, spilling my coffee on my lap like a demon cave baby. His baby behavior betrays his grown-up appearance. It's off-putting.

Robinson is 11.5 Months Old!

The title of this post is...accurate. My baby turned 11 months old two weeks ago...which means I'm going to publish this 11 month picture and then turn around and publish his 12 month picture...then there will be no more monthly Laney pictures! Methinks Laney will not protest this.

I love this picture, but it's low resolution since Steve took the picture with a camera phone while my camera and I were vacationing with friends in Florida. I've spent months working on a Shutterfly photo book that will be Robinson's baby book, and each month features a full-page "Laney pic". This picture is too grainy for that, which is a shame. I can either use it anyway or take another picture now. At 11.5 months of age. Having already had his first hair cut (more on that in another post--ugh). So...I love this picture, but now I have to have a do-over for the baby book. On the bright side, if this is my biggest problem...well, life is good!

Robinson is Ten Months Old!

Our little boo is ten months old! He more resembles a toddler at this point. He isn't walking yet, but he is boldly pulling up on furniture and exploring the world around him. He gets a little ahead of himself sometimes when he's trying to move from reaching to crawling to standing, so he gets tangled up in his own arms and legs like a game of Twister for one. 

This has caused a couple of falls, a bump and a fat lip, but he's a resilient little fella.

Sidenote: I don't recommend Google Image searching the term "playing Twister". People sure know how to take something that is supposed to be wholesome fun for the whole family and turn it into something dirty. 

His preference for toys is still pretty basic. He's still having so much fun with my cell phone, the Jumperoo, the walker, the stackable rings, Jerry the Giraffe, and the stackable cups. He joyfully crawls around the kitchen floor while clutching these plastic toys in his hand. Banging the plastic shapes and cups on the tile is a favorite pastime. Last weekend when Robinson was visited by his Poppa, Uncle Jay and Aunt Kelly, he was so excited that he was crawling around the kitchen with one of the plastic shapes in his right hand, and one of the stackable cups in his left, joyfully smacking them on the tile.

Quote of the weekend, courtesy of yours truly: He can't decide which one he likes best, so he's banging them both.

Seriously, Jerry the Giraffe and the stackable cups are the most fun you can have with your clothes on.

Oh, and did I mention that Robinson likes to eat?

And eat...

 ...and eat...

 

 The boy has a healthy appetite...

 And be forewarned: if you are ever eating in Robinson's presence, he expects you to share with him.

...the penalty for not sharing your snack and your supper with Robinson is an epic fit.

I know, it's hard to believe that this angel ever throws a fit