Party Girl

We're one of those households that believes a birthday should last at least a week. Thus we hosted a second party for Charlotte last Thursday with family and Charlotte's closest admirers (her godmommy, aunties and grandmother, among them). She favors pasta, so I made my grandmother's "famous" Neapolitan sauce and meatballs. A big hit with the toddler/infant set. The presents are open. The cake has been gobbled up and yes, my dear Charlotte, your first year of life is officially behind us.

In that vein we had our all-important one-year pediatrician's appointment this afternoon. Our girl is 22 pounds (that's the 70th percentile for those of you keeping score), still pretty short (30th percentile) and indeed still has that whoppin' big Barnes family noggin (95th percentile). Gone is the Soy formula! We're moving to milk tonight and turning that car seat forward so that she can get a good glimpse of the world as it flies by on I-66. We're walking a few steps every day and our verbal repertoire is up to about three words: "hi," "bye" and, we think, "Typo." So, really, on to year two -- and not a cupcake too soon.