Isabel's 4th Birthday

So Frank and I aren't big birthday people. I don't know what Frank's deal is, since I didn't grow up with him (and thank goodness for that - I've heard about those tight shorts and Hawaiian shirts and great taste in high school girls, too) but when I was a kid, it was all "your birth day was the day your mother was in the most pain so it should be a celebration of HER, not YOU." (And you thought that as the only child I was the little princess, didn't you?) Hear that, Isabel? And you, too, Annabel little miss won't turn her head down in the right direction even though the doctor tried and tried to turn you and it was so painful I wanted to die.

But whatever. Out baby girl still got her strawberry bunny cake and a few presents and was all happy, happy, happy because it's really about setting the expectations low. Every Saturday morning Frank takes Isabel to get bagels and then to Starbucks for my Americana where he gives her a little plastic stirring straw and it's like he gives her a new puppy each time or something. She will hold on to that red straw all morning long. It's like a little treat! It's great! It's red! It's so straight! Sounds kind of sad, doesn't it but see? LOW EXPECTATIONS.

Here are pictures of Isabel blowing out her candles and our two little cream puffs.