Birthday Boy Blues

When it comes to birthdays, Ansel really got the short end of the pinata stick this year. My consolation is that I believe it can be strongly debated whether anything can actually out-traumatize one's actual birth day. And the silver lining is that his birthdays can only get better. I, personally, have no memory of my 4th birthday, and am therefore counting on March 6th, 2008 being a day that isn't a severe impediment to Ansel's healthy psychological development. In actuality, there is a more than remote possiblity that the rotten day was a blessing and tool in forming his future stoic adult character. To quote a line in the Princess Bride, "Life is Pain. Anyone who says differently is selling something." What better time to teach your children this than when they are young and impressionable, and especially on their birthday? In conclusion, Ansel received a priceless gift on his 4th birthday. A big dose of reality.


Corey thoughtfully moved into our new house while Ansel and I were in Utah for my grandfather's funeral. We returned the night of March 5th and the following day was Ansel's birthday. Poor little guy had to endure much of the day unpacking boxes and finding things necessary for survival (please tell me that you all just give up with the organized packing and start throwing things in unlabeled boxes and that the things that are randomly thrown in at the end are usually the things that you really NEED).

Occasionally, I do plan ahead and had ordered his cake before we left on our trip. It was ready and waiting. The sun was shining and Ansel was able to literally dig into his cake on our new deck. The truth is that he wasn't on the deck with his cake because it was such a beautiful day. Do you see that blue frosting around the edge of the cake? It had some lethal dye that left everything within a 10 foot radius cobalt blue. Not a good idea for a new house. I banished him and his cake outside and in my defense, I swear that Ansel's tongue is still a little blue. But that is not the reason for this Blog Title.
I had also thoughtfully pre-purchased these candles that were ingeniously engineered to radiate fantastic flames in their respective hues. The tragedy was that they didn't work and reeked like an 18-wheeler diesel truck. I didn't even have back-up candles and Ansel had to pretend to blow them out after the traditional birthday singing (he's a pretty good thespian, don't you think?) Note his blue lips.
A picture is worth a thousand words. And a thousand coughs. And a thousand ear-aches. And a thousand sniffles. Ansel was not a picture of perfect health. He had contracted the "too many cousins playing together" flu in Utah and couldn't eat much of anything on his birthday(except for the blue frosting, of course. Is anyone ever too sick for frosting?). For those of you who need reminding, Ansel also couldn't eat anything on his 3rd birthday due to Streptococcus. Come to think of it, he coughed and wheezed so much on his day of birth that he had to have his lungs vacuumed out. Ansel may not have this day burned into his memory, but he may have some scarring from this burn he received on a wood-burning stove in Utah. He must have been accompanied by some pain-relieving angels, because he didn't even tell me that he had recieved this injury until I found the 3rd degree blister later that night. He is not usually a 'suck it up' sort of boy. (Photo taken on his birthday)

I love you Ansel and promise better birthdays in the years to come!!