Green Acres Is The Place For Me...

They say country life is great for kids and I must agree. Forget SpongeBob and Dora and video games...I get to do my own exploring on the farm! Because, really, how many girls get to don overalls and run around in the dirt these days? And how many girls still get to help their daddy drive an old farm truck? And how many kids do you know that help gather wood for the stove at night?
And what about walking? Most kids learn indoors, on even ground. Not me, I run around chasing kitties in the dirt while learning the importance of balance, good footing and getting back up and dusting myself off when I fall (it's not you, the sound is not working):

Yep, when you think about it, a farm is a great place to live, learn and contemplate the big questions in life:

New tastes, smells and skills!!!

A lot has been happening lately. Everything is so big and colorful and interesting. I feel like I'm really beginning to find my place in the world. To think that at this time last year I couldn't even hold my head up is crazy!

For instance, now I'm trying all sorts of new foods. One of my favorites is called crayon. My mom keeps trying to get me to hold it in my hand and hit it on paper, which makes absolutely no sense to me seeing as how crayon is so colorful and chewy. So now I pretend to make marks on the floor with it, then munch the tip off and clamp my mouth shut so my mom can't get it out.:Of course, sometimes I get a little on my face too.

It's funny that my mom thought it was amusing that I marked my own face, because the very next day she marked up my face, dressed me as a skunk, and paraded me around town. I don't know what sort of punishment this was, but while we were parading around we saw lots of other little kids being treated similarly. I guess it happens once a year and is called Halloween.
That's right, I was a skunk. At least no one else was wearing the same costume...
Oh, and to redeem her cake-making skills, my mom carved a pumpkin for me. I think it's better than the cake:
Finally, I decided to get off the floor and start walking:

Yep, I decided to do it right before my dad left for Spain so he wouldn't miss my first steps. Boy was he happy!!!

Uno!!!

That's right, folks, it was my birthday a couple of weeks ago (October 16 for your records). Yep, the big Oh-One. I can't believe it either. Seems like this time last year I was all infantile and needy and quiet and immobile and tiny. Now I'm 20 pounds and 11 ounces of walking, talking, into-everything fun.

But back to the birthday. Of course , it was great. There were balloons:And presents:And my annual traditional photo with my birthday bear:And there was a cake made just for me by my mom: I didn't know quite what to make of it, either. I think my mom is trying to instill that "It's the thought that counts" stuff in me early on. For some reason my mom was completely obsessed with making me a cake for my birthday. The thing is, she'd never made a cake. And I guess our oven isn't level. And she didn't know you had to buy tips for icing tubes to make fancy writing. And she didn't know about cooling things off. This is what she started with when the frosting ran out: Really, I think she did a pretty good job covering up the holes and gaps with Dora figurines and, let's face it, there is nowhere to go but up on the cake-making skills for her:My dad didn't want to be outdone in the personal parental touch category so he improvised with some Hello Kitty hats:
No, wait, it got more bizarre when he did a Statue of Liberty impression:
That wasn't even the weirdest part of the party...

In the end, it was a great party with ALL my grandparents in attendance. That made for some interesting conversation. As for me, I just hung out and got overstimulated and threw cake, like I was supposed to, right?