And He Turned 8

Jonah... my firstborn... the baby who made me a mommy... 

He had another birthday the other day!  Why does this keep happening?

We gave him a cap rifle as a gift the morning of his birthday and he carried it around all day (and every day since) and shot approximately 9,573 (give or take a few) caps over the course of the day.  He also cleaned it very meticulously between each round of caps.

He also requested a stegosaurus cake, and I humored his request to the best of my hilarious ability.

When he saw me mixing up the blue frosting, he said, "So... where's the other stuff?"

"What 'other stuff'?" I said.

"Mom.  Stegosauruses are brown."

Pardon my gaff.  Reality is not my strong point.

But he was thrilled nonetheless, and decided the a blue-green stegosaurus cake was pretty much the best ever.

I actually think it might look a little more like the love-child of a Smurf and and ROUS, but I kept that opinion to myself.

Jonah is at the age where a birthday is pretty much the epitome of  "good times" and besides counting the days for the last several weeks, he was dying to have friends over, even though I hardly have the energy for a party.  Nathan sweetly offered to make a campfire and oversee the roasting of hotdogs with some dear friends, and we all had a great time, without too much effort expended on my part.

And he blew out 8 candles... and that was that.  My baby is 8!