It's been a really, really good year

Happy Birthday
to my Miss Dub!



... and since everyone deserves a little prize on this momentous day, here's Miss Dub in action for your viewing pleasure:

HTT - Birthday Edition

Just in case you hadn't heard, Miss Dub will be turning ONE on Thursday. Feel free to send gifts, if you're so inclined. Strangely, her current shoe size is a women's size 8.5. And I loOvE shoes. I mean, she does ...

We already held a pre-birthday party last night with my parents who drove all the way from Arizona to give her a car, which they've kindly agreed to let me drive until she turns 16 and is promptly locked in a high tower. (But I'm sooo cutting her hair. That's where Rapunzel's parents went wrong!)

I'm trying not to let my enthusiasm for joining the ranks of 2-car families overshadow the excitement for her first birthday. I mean, it's a pretty big deal to turn ONE!

... except, it's kind of not.

I mean, she doesn't really get it. Last night, she alternated between excitement over her new toys and excitement about her latest trick - standing - all while opening her gifts. And while she really likes us singing the "Happy Birthday" song to her, it's no more so now than last week.

So I will probably just make a few cupcakes and invite a friend or two of ours over, if anyone, on the actual big day. And I've only purchased TWO gifts for her since the girl's toy collection is already larger than her attention span.

But does that make me a bad person?

Should I be inviting all the infants in Chicagoland to a huge soirée, complete with live animals and stunt performers? (OK, that was a slight exaggeration. The animals wouldn't be live, duh.)

I mean, when did you start having true birthday parties for your kiddies? And was the effort worth it?

Because while I do love me a good party, when we're talking cartoon-themed events with lots of screaming, sugar-stoned kids, it doesn't sound that fun.

I know some families have rules for such occasions, like limits on friends invited based on age or an every-other-year party plan. But I haven't figured yet what we'll do.

So help me out here, people. How do parties work in your family now? How did they work when you were growing up?

Of course, none of this will matter once she's locked in that tower.

Praise for the P. Dad!

A Happy B-to-the-irthday to my fabulous father, P. Daddy!

This is where I could wax eloquent about all the wonderful things that my father has done and why he could beat up your dad in a street fight, but, well, you all know P. Daddy pretty well since he's a frequent commentor. (And a memorable one at that!)

I don't have to argue why he is so hip, cool and witty. I mean, he said "dude" in a recent comment and said he'd "pay to watch Sandra Bullock chew gum" in another. And I don't have to argue how he is a genius with an insane ability to remember even the most trivial of information he once read in a newspaper 20 years ago, because I know ch'alls have gone to the dictionary on occasion after reading his comments.

But what you might not know is that he is one of the nicest people on this planet. That he is a very sympathetic father who didn't rule with an iron fist but iron reason. That he is not only hip and funny, but humble and spiritual. That he led by example, not by intimidation.

He is the kind of dad who is just as much a friend as a father. He is the kind of dad who watches the same shows and listens to the same music, often because he just wants to know what you're talking about.

And he is the kind of grandpa who goes to great lengths to see his two adorable grand-chittlins and slather them with attention.

But he really could beat up your dad in a street fight. Seriously, he's got some mad skillz.

Birthday Boy

Happy Birthday Mr. Dub!

A few things you might not know about my mister:

He’s keenly attune to smells – his sniffer can decipher a scent before mine even sniffs.
He is really, really funny … OK, so most of you already know that.
He brings me flowers when I have a really hard day.
He’s 6’2”.
He won’t speak Polish. So don’t ask.
He gives killer massages – my feet are still tingling from one last night.
He can quote “Fletch” in his sleep. (As a result, when we go to a restaurant he puts in Irwin as our name – also a little known fact.)
His Northwestern GPA makes an average GPA look like a fraction.
He can shoot some hoops.
He recently made gnocchi (my favorite) for dinner and it was fabulous!
He doesn’t like U2 or the Beatles, yet he’s not a communist.
He can wait all day to share big news – like casually telling me he got into graduate school as we were drifting off to sleep.
He has 2 brothers and 3 sisters. He is the fifth child in his family.
He knows his geography and a little bit about topography
He can clean a shower like nobody.
He is my best friend.
He is 31 today!