My boy turns two

Roscoe's birthday party was at Kidwell Farm this year, a working farm from the 1950's. I think he was in Roscoe heaven.

We rented a small classroom on the property and went with a classic picnic theme. Make-your-own sandwiches with homemade bread, peanut butter, jelly, nutella, and marshmallow fluff. Fresh fruit, milk, and chips rounded out the menu. It was a big hit for the kids, of course, but the adults didn't seem to mind at all a fluffernutter throwback.

We passed around slices of chocolate cake while Roscoe opened his gifts. The room filled with song as he opened the last of his presents and since Roscoe has become a huge fan of vanilla ice cream we topped a heaping bowl with his birthday candle which he blew out all on his own--practice makes perfect. Farm animal masks and hand tattoos made for great entertainment.

We took a collective walk down a dusty road bordered on both sides by green pasture. At the end was a barn full of Spring babies. The kids explored, the adults chased after the kids, and we even got to observe a cow milking. I learned that they use the milk from their dairy cow to feed all the baby animals on the farm. A milkshare, if you will!

Next, we boarded a tractor-pulled wagon to tour the property. Merritt had slept soundly through most of the day, but as the wagon lunged forward he gave a little stir and quickly made it clear that his belly was in need of some food.

An afternoon on the farm was the perfect way to celebrate our little nature boy, to relish in his growth over the last year, and to welcome the start of his third year (I can't believe it).