Sweetpea's Second Birthday

Sweetpea turned two years old today! I wish we could have been there for the big party her Mama put so much time and energy into. But we'll have to make-do with photos and videos.

I called to wish Sweetpea a happy birthday this morning, and caught her and her Daddy in the car. They were returning home, after having their weekly "Daddy and me" Saturday morning breakfast. Chris handed her the phone, while he drove, and she carried on a wonderful "conversation" with me. They say that children learn foreign languages more easily than adults, and now I know it's true. I'm not sure which language she was speaking, but she was definitely fluent and very expressive. And, for my benefit, she threw in a few words of English as well . . . "Hi Grandma" "Two!" "I love you" and "Bye."

I hope, by tonight, I'll have a picture or two of the birthday girl to post for you. I can hardly wait! Isn't technology wonderful, though? Just think how different it is today than a few years ago, when my children were celebrating their early birthdays.

Here's how it went back then (with apologies to my Mom, who must have been just as eager to see grandkid birthday pictures, then, as I am today):

Party Day (January): I snap a dozen or so pictures with my Instamatic camera. There is no way to know if the pictures are any good; and since film and developing cost $$$, I try to limit how many I take. At the end of the party, there are another dozen pictures left on the roll, so I put the camera away.

Five months later (June): While on a summer vacation, I use up the rest of the roll of film. I take it out of the camera and tuck it away in my little overnight travel bag, for safe-keeping.

Three days later: We fly back home from vacation-land. I unpack my overnight bag - not remembering that the film is in the little zipper pocket - and store it on the top shelf of my closet. Out of sight, out of mind. I never give the film another thought, until . . .

Three months later (September): I pull my overnight bag from the shelf and prepare to pack it for a women's retreat weekend. "Oh, what's this?! A roll of film. Hmmmm, I wonder what's on it?"

Five days later: After the retreat, I take the roll of film into the drug store, and they send it off for processing. Processing takes a week to ten days, and I spend that time trying to guess what might be on the roll of film.

Ten days later: The pictures are ready. What an exciting day! I drive over to the drugstore to pick them up, and, even before leaving the store, I am ripping open the package. Inside are ten pictures that are no good - too dark, too blurry, or with my finger in front of the lens. Of the remaining 14, 12 are from our June vacation (almost four months earlier). They turned out pretty good, because they were all taken outside, in natural light. And then there are two not-so-bad pictures of the birthday boy, eating his cake and opening a present. "I should send copies of these two birthday prints to my mom and dad," I think.

Three days later: Back I go to the drug store, with the two negatives, to order copies of the two birthday shots.

Ten days later (October): The duplicate prints are ready, and I make a trip over to the drug store to pick them up. I figure that Mom will be disappointed to get the pictures without a hand-written letter. So I put the pictures beside the telephone, on the kitchen bar, until I have time to write a letter.

One month later (November): Feeling bad about the delay, I finally sit down, during the boys' nap, and write a letter to Mom and Dad. Into an envelope go the letter and the two pictures. Oh, no. I don't have any stamps.

The next Thursday: It is grocery shopping day, and I make a special trip to the P.O., as well, for stamps. I place a stamp on the envelope and drop it into the mailbox.

Three days later: Mom and Dad get the letter and the pictures of the birthday boy, who is just about ready to turn yet another year older.