Carter's "Birthday", I'm afraid to say, was rather pathetic. Or at least I thought it was. I think Carter thought it was fine.
So Thursday, the 13th, he woke up like any other day, and it wasn't till we pulled out his presents, that he remembered it was his birthday. Than he got into it.
Since Bo had the day off, he got to open his presents first thing in the morning. Lucky duck. I remember not being able to open mine up until noon on my birthdays. hahaa. He got some pirate booty from his Grandpa Beus, 5 dollars in quarters from my parents, a piggy bank, a controller his size for the wii, a dinosaur book, and a Buzz Lightyear toy. The biggest hit so far has been the piggy bank. Funny, huh?
For breakfast he had his normal poptart, but he didn't take one bite. I chalked it up to him getting sick of them. Later Bo made pancakes, but Carter only took a couple of bites. At this I started wondering what was up, because he'll normally eat a couple of pancakes. When lunch came around and he only took two bites of his favorite lunch ever, a hot dog, I really started worrying. Something was up with Carter. He insisted he was fine though and that he wanted to go to the Rainforest Cafe for dinner, so Bo and I decided, why not?
Poor Carter. At the restaurant he ate only a couple of bites off his ribs, and than proceeded to say he didn't feel well and laid down on my lap. Some birthday dinner celebration. When we were all done eating, I asked him if he wanted some ice cream or something, I mean we were even prepared to get the coveted VOLCANO, and he said no. NO! This kid LOVES ice cream and has always wanted a volcano. We knew he wasn't faking it with that response. Poor baby.
So instead of singing happy birthday later that evening with his ice cream cake, we came home laid out towels on the floor, gave him his "throw up" bowl, and let him watch a movie. He didn't move an inch.
So that was his birthday. Sad, eh?
Luckily he was feeling much better the following evening, and was able to have his birthday cake and song with his friends Milo and Ollie, who we were babysitting.
Happy Birthday Carter! Sorry I made you wait for your Birthday, and then on the day you finally got to have it, you were sick. My bad. Hopefully it will go way better next year.
Oh yeah, and sorry you didn't get an official "party." I have just been so out of it, and when Milo and Ollie were there to help blow out the candles, you thought that was your party, and I was too lazy to correct you. So we let you think that yes, indeed, that was your party. You didn't seem upset about it though. I figured, if you didn't know any better. . .
Next year you'll get an actual party.
I really do love you!