Lady Poppyseed is Having a Birthday!

So my niece turned one last week. (I made her apple roses in the last post that I’m too lazy to link to.) And my mom and sister went…well, nuts.

My sister is a Pinterest go-getter, someone who genuinely enjoys decoupaging random crap onto other random crap. She’s not trying to be impressive, she just really is all by herself. All natural like. And my mother never turned down an opportunity to put some grandkid’s face on something.

So obviously, this most hallowed of occasions was going to be a blow out affair.

I mean, don’t get me wrong. Not as fancy as Buddy’s first birthday. Here is a picture of his cakes.


It’s falling apart.

I know. I’m impressed too.

Starting about two months ago, I began recording the stuff that my mom and sister said to each other in complete seriousness abut Poppyseed’s birthday. If you follow me on twitter (And why not? I’m awesome.) you can see it under the hashtag “shitformyniecesbirthday.”

Because I’m classy like that.

Here are some of my favorites.

“I’m looking into posters.” (Why be subtle? Go with the wallpaper! You haven’t updated the dining room lately!)

“But WHERE are we going to put the time capsule?” (I hid mine behind the craptastic cake. Oh wait. That’s right. I didn’t even let him open his presents I just literally shipped them to the other house. I must have lost the time capsule in moving.)

“I’m not sure we can fit any more pictures on the burlap.” (I have that problem too. So many pictures, so little burlap. Because my amount of burlap is no burlap. But then, so are my number of pictures for display. So I guess I planned that one perfectly!)

“I’m going to make a mix CD with songs that have been significant for her first year.” (My list for Buddy’s first year would be a lot of Evanescence and a few songs about how I will never be happy again.)

“Huh. I don’t have the professional pictures of Poppyseed’s baptism.” (Huh. I don’t remember Buddy’s baptism.)

“I needed to pay extra for the postage because her invitations are four pages long.” (My “shit his birthday is coming up why don’t y’all come over around 5ish” email blast just seems paltry now.)



“I ran out of mod podge!” (That happens to me all the time! Oh wait. I mean never. That happens to me never.)

“The pink for the poster is a little strippery don’t you think?” (Yes. We wouldn’t want to be tacky.)

“Oh yeah, I like that better. There’s texture and dimension.” (All things a one-year-old cares about in party decorations, amiright people?)

“I missed the promotion to make coasters!” (I literally have nothing for this one. Coasters?)

“I had to mail her invitations as packages! They were too big to be letters!” (Brb, dying over here.)

“They’re for the photo wreath!” (Oh! The tiny decoupaged pictures of your daughter’s face make sense now!)

“I decided to go with the abbreviated family tree, I couldn’t fit the one that goes back to 1790 on the windowseat.” (I mean, I always have major geneological research at my kids’ parties. It’s just fun explaining why Theresa Rimmele was probably murdered at the hands of some Austrian who was invading her village in Bavaria. Another cookie anyone?)

I am legitimatley joking you guys. The party was absolutely gorgeous, and it was so much fun. I don’t have a ton of pictures, because she isn’t my kid and you don’t know her like that, but trust me, it was delightful.

Poppyseed’s birth was and is such an important moment for our family. It brought us all so close together and honestly redeemed childbirth as an experience for me. Okay. It came close. And the last year with her has been such a delight. I can’t believe we are lucky enough to have you in our lives, Lady Poppyseed. I can’t wait to watch you grow into a beautiful daughter of God.

We love you so much.





Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s