Phoebe’s first birthday was a howling success! The house was filled with haunts, food, laughter, and all our favorite people. We went all in on the theme — Phoebe’s Forest of Fear — and it turned out better than I could have imagined. There were spiders, bones, and just the right amount of scares (the fun kind, not the toddler-trauma kind). The kiddos ran wild, the adults joined in, and it was pure, chaotic joy from start to finish.
Family time always fills my heart (and my sink, and my laundry basket). But seriously — I love that my nieces and nephews actually want to come to our house and stay all weekend. They roll in like a mini tornado, take over the place, and somehow convince me that 10 p.m. is an acceptable bedtime for toddlers. It’s chaos, but it’s my favorite kind of chaos.
And then it hit me — my baby is one. ONE. How?! I swear I just brought her home yesterday, and now she’s walking around with crumbs in her hair and bossing the dog. Phoebe is our last, and that realization is hitting hard. Every “last first” is this emotional rollercoaster — part pride, part heartbreak, and part wondering where the time even went.
But for now, I’m just soaking it in — the noise, the giggles, the crumbs, the chaos, the love. Because if this is what the forest of fear looks like, I’ll happily live here forever.
Confidently winging it—powered by chaos and caffeine.
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