Friday, July 16, 2010

My baby is ONE! Miles was born a year ago on the Monday just before Family Camp started at Camp Maranatha, and it seemed fitting to have Family Camp sing him Happy Birthday this year.
I was planning on making a carrot cake, but the day flew by...so I ended up buying an organic, all natural pound cake from the crunchy Organic Food Store up here in Idyllwild, and decorating it with whipped cream and raspberries.
Miles has had things that are not good for him before- french fries, chips, a chocolate-chip cookie two weeks ago at church...but still, the cake was an exciting food adventure.

He wasn't at all sure about the mound of food in front of him, and first just removed the raspberries, finally putting one in his mouth.
I had to put some whipped cream in his mouth before he'd try it himself, but once he realized that it was so delicious, he used the candle to scoop some in his mouth.
Eventually, even the pound cake, now softened by the whipped cream, was consumed. As I was putting it together, Jack had a little melt-down when I told him that the cake was for Miles, and that Jack would have to wait until after dinner to get a piece. He got over it...mostly by being ignored and then punished, once reason was found to have no home in his heart over such matters as goodly cakes.
Jack needn't of worried...Miles was very willing to share his birthday cake with his big brother. (Lucy and Bowden had run off long before to play outside with the other kids here- they are running wild this week...there are so many kids their age and we know them all...there are crafts and Bible stories and all kinds of fun that they don't want to miss...Bowden begins every meal with, "I don't want to eat. I'll just play.")

When we got home, Jack said, "I DID get some cake tonight! You said that I couldn't!"

(Or something that translated to that. Jack says "Me" for "I" about half the time, and my brain does an automatic translation. I have to be careful that I don't answer back in Jack-speak...it happens, especially when I'm distracted.

For example:

Jack- "That deer don't like him tail. Him eat him tail."

Mom-"Why did he eat him tail?"

Jack-"Him don't like him tail. Me deer. Me no like my tail."

Mom-"I like your tail. No eat him tail!"
We had this conversation after Jack came down and told me that he had two dreams, one happy and one bad. They were both about deer. I don't know which one this was.)

(But back to Miles...it was his birthday, after all!)

Finally, after the cake was eaten, the whipped cream absorbed, and the raspberries scattered, Miles was finished. I'm glad he liked it, although he won't remember it.
Jack might.
Miles' completion of a meal sometimes culminates with a finger point, telling me that he's "all done."

What can I say? He's adorable. What a blessing he's been- a joy, a pleasure, and a wonder. God's goodness is evident in the gift of my children. I am undeserving, but thankful to have my four.

5 comments:

Joel Tom Tate said...

Miles is adorable but it was the picture of Jack that surprised me the most. He looks so old! When did that happen? I love the blonde hair. He resembles my Elisabeth, no?

The Sauce said...

That finger point SLAYS me. And I'm so happy to see his coiff is still sorta doing the Dennis the Menace flip, even as he passes the one year Miles'stone. Pun?
I remember the night he was born, I was jogging, and Job was real distraught he couldn't leave work to get a USA Today, as is his custom. I went to four different places that night, but to no avail. Looks like Miles is gonna be okay.
Jack's pretty cute, huh. Tan!
Dat Him Stinky Booty,
lisa
p.s. happy birthday miles!

sarah said...

Jack is my most Tate-looking baby, I think. The others have been severely tainted with my Italian greasiness, but Jack is an Anglo-Saxon. Actually, I think he looks like Mom Tate.
And Lisa, that is NOT him stinky booty. That him sticky face.

Annie said...

Great birthday shots. I remember Jack's 1st and Lucy's disappointment at not getting his cake. I also remember her way of coping. It had something to do with slipping fingers over to the frosting and coming away with a prize to suck on.

Rosie, barely able to contain her mirth, said...

Italian greasiness!!!!! I loved this post beofre I read the comments- but you are knocking em out of the park tonight my sister!

I love you, and your children, and you.

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