I know I'm not actually a year old yet, but today was my birthday party. Mom and Dad, Gramma, Papa, and Nana helped me pull it together. We had a bunch of friends over for cake and homemade ice cream. It was fun.
	We had to clean the house for company, and I wanted to help. I suppose it would have been faster for Mom or Dad to do the sweeping, but Mom says it's important for me to be able to take part in all aspects of the party - even the prep work.
	When it was time to blow out the candle on my cake, everyone sang "Happy Birthday." I didn't quite know what to do with all the attention on me. But I got to sit in Dad's lap, and he let me know it was OK. Blowing out the candles on my cake was a bit harder than I anticipated. Luckily Dad was there to help me out.
	I'm guessing most of the people in the room were expecting me to smear the cake and frosting all over my face, hair, etc. But like my Dad, I'm all about defying people's expectations. I did enjoy my cake - especially the frosting - but I did so in a very demure fashion.
	What is a birthday party without clown hair? Many of the kids (of all ages) had a fun time wearing the festive "DOs." Below are Ross Brazel - also eating a cake cone - and Mary Faridi.
	Once the party was over, Dad hauled the cooler inside so I could play my favorite game - open/close.
	I don't know why Mom and Dad had to pick on me when I was having such a good time, not to mention being extremely tired from not sleeping most of the day, and from all the excitement. I guess they figured it would be an awesome topper to the day if I just took off and walked. They found that I was more likely to walk a few steps if I had something in my hands. In this picture I look very upset, and I guess I was, but my distress was short-lived. Dad held my overalls in back and I brought the bunch of balloons a few steps to Mommy. I wouldn't classify it as walking yet, but I'm definitely very close. I can take a few steps at a time on my own, even if it does cause emotional torment and anguish.

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