I'll be frank with you: I took advantage of Beck's age this year. I suppose that part of me realized this will likely be the last Birthday he has in which he doesn't fully understand what a Birthday is, and from here on out he will be old enough to fully comprehend the significance of the day.

I used this factor to my benefit by making his day a little low key. I like low key. I like quiet, relaxed, uncomplicated. And so we had extra cheesy eggs for breakfast. I dropped the boys at daycare and went to work. Beck spent the day with his friends and his favorite teacher, where they threw him a party that included some ripped kleenex confetti. I picked up the cake and balloons, the boys, and we headed to their favorite park. We took up shop in the shade beneath the pavilion, where we were met by grandparents and cousins. We ate pizza, we played, we lit the candles and watched Beck's face brighten happily (my favorite part of Birthdays as a mom!) as we sang to him. We lingered at the park until bedtime, relaxing in the shade, chatting, watching the kids play.

We drove home with the windows down, a refreshing summer breeze kissing our skin as we traveled along the back roads parallel to the horizon which bore a magnificent burnt orange summer sunset. At each stop light I would glance in the rear-view mirror to see my now two year old, his cheeks flushed from heat and play, his eyes glazed over, all signs of a day well spent.

It was a picture-perfect ending to a day that was the ideal kind of ordinary: a simple, routine-type Birthday celebration on the epitome of a flawless Summer night.

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