Ode to birthday cakes I have made, and Jack

Today my boy turns 9. Nine years of celebrating this lively, lovely creature who only exists because of Ian and I. Why does that seem so magical, when there are so many millions of other lively, lovely young creatures on the planet? From gametes to baby to child: so common, but so amazing.

Each year he has had a special birthday cake. Here are some of them.

Perhaps not a usual 3-year old's choice, but he wanted a chess cake
(Note: it was more work than it looks, and the black icing tasted terrible).

At age 4, he lived as Simba from The Lion King, and wore a tawny-coloured lion tail almost constantly. The orange sweatshirt is no coincidence.

Guests at this party still remember smashing the chocolate pinata with a hammer then gorging themselves on the thick slabs of broken chocolate.

This year he was feeling a bit too grown up for a very fancy cake. I was relieved. Even better, he helped me decorate this one.

Here he is, triumphant after some birthday party apple bobbing, and half way to being a man. So much change and so many adventures to date, and so many still to come. Happy Birthday Jack!