Porter jumping off the diving board. Something I wish he could have learned later in life. But whatever.
Sweet Liam. I am seriously obsessed with him as if he was my own. I just love that kid.
Porter had no idea this party was about him. Ha!
So. Porter LOVED the sparklers on the Fourth of July. So I thought, let's do it on his birthday while we sing. Crazy sparklers in 110 degree weather. Such a good idea.
This picture makes me laugh every time. Chad, being such a good sport about my sparkler idea, took one while fire is popping everywhere and smoke is flaring. All while trying to protect Matix. Merrells are awesome. Needless to say, most sparklers didn't get passed out. And I had burn marks all over my hand.
Afterwards, we did an pinata. Porter had no idea why we were letting him hit this train with a bat. He was so soft with it. Haha! It was super cute.
I love being this little guy's aunt.
Liam has got game. He was smacking that thing with all his two year old mite.
Eventually, everyone wanted some real entertainment and made me go out there to break the train. And Trent had fun making me look like a fool and miss a few times. He is so lucky I have a sense of humor.
It was a total game changer for Porter once he realized that there was candy INSIDE the train.
The rest of the time we ate some more, talked, and played corn hole. For the record, Kayla and I CREAMED Chad and Trent at corn hole. No, really. Like there was no competition about it. Better luck next time, fellas.
Speaking of Kayla. She is a dream best friend. The gal went and made and frosted like 50 cupcakes for Porter's birthday. And came to help set up early. Oh and the cupcakes were out of this world good. chocolate cupcakes with Oreo frosting and strawberry with cream cheese frosting. Open your own bakery, Kayla!
Any my mom made the. best. sugar cookies. It's all I ever want when I visit.
And here are just some extras for the party. Porter, you are one loved little boy. EVERYONE who meets you, automatically loves you. Happy 2nd Birthday, Portmaster.

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