Today is Max's first birthday. We began the day with a grueling 5k race across the Tufts campus. Tufts University, as you may know, was started as a mountaineering school because of its jog-stroller-challenging hills. Max beat me by a second, but next time I am parking that stroller just shy of the finish line so he doesn't take any more trophies that are rightfully mine.
The highlight of the race was running into my old friend Kristin Brennan, who now goes by some other last name owning to her married status. Kristin and I went to Australia together in 1989 with a YMCA camp trip but probably had not seen each other in 15 years. Usually when that happens the person you're missing is living in either The Mission, Park Slope, or Jamaica Plain, and she chose JP. Who says I need to make new friends when the old ones are still useful?
After the race, we had a little party with Carrie, Perry, and Ella; Sara, Marc, Katie, and Sam; Grandma Susan and Grandpa Mark; and Sara's friend Rachel. A good time was had by all, especially at the Times Square ball drop of 1st birthdays, the cupcake smash. Here you can see Max grooving to his first refined sugar. Goodbye, Veggie Booty, hello Ding Dongs.

He became completely wired..

...then drunk, on sugar.

Then, his grandma read him a story about pajamas and we packed him off to bed. He was too tired to fight it. Let's hope we don't see him until dawn.

So we have friends who only bathe their child once a week, which is fine since babies really don't get that dirty. Max is a bathe-every-day kind of guy. This is not because his parents are obsessive about cleanliness, but because bathtime is just plain fun.

Max opens a birthday present (yes, we know it's not his birthday yet, but he couldn't wait).

Max enjoys his backyard and the fact that Spring has finally, sort of, come to New England (even though it snowed just a few weeks ago).

Here's Max in a fetching outfit selected by his Dad (who has excellent style sense).