Tap, tap, tap went little toes into my room. "I have to go peeps!" screamed a giant voice from a tiny little body. And so it began, Happy Birthday Kiera.
I opened my eyes, bleary from waking 3 times in the night with my restless almost three year old and wished her Happy Birthday to which she said "It's not my birthday, I'm just 2!". OK, I can go with that, at least until I get my coffee. We all piled onto the couch for coffee and milk and I pulled down the picture of my sweet little one, just 5 minutes old and told her about the morning that she was born. In my pre-coffee delirium I let her hold the picture frame and the next thing we knew both Kiera and Ben had cut there fingers on the glass and there was blood everywhere. While we where cleaning that up and getting ready to go seen Gramma and Grampa at their hotel, the dog threw up buckets at our feet. Then collapsed. We made it out the door and to breakfast where Kiera had cake and got to blow out the first first candle of the day. YAY! Hope for a great day! We went for a swim where Ben and Kiera took turns forgetting they can't swim and swallowed gallons of water and we ended up carrying two screaming children out of the hotel, desperate for a nap. Kiera woke up from that nap wet and crushed (presumably from excessive pool drinking). But, we made it back out of the house (past the dying dog to dinner) where the kids took turns losing it until the wonderful magician came with his crystal ball and magic bubbles. Toss in another piece of chocolate cake and the day was saved in the end!
It was a tricky but Happy Birthday!
Love you so much Kiera!