My baby is turning five. Five is such a strange number – she is no longer a baby, but she certainly can’t be trusted with an open container. My little mess maker had grand plans for her birthday party. She had a million different ideas. It started off as a backyard party. Then we travelled to the idea of THAT pizza place that strikes fear in every parent. I cringed thinking of all the tiny little germs that would show up uninvited to our little soiree. Then I imagined the apology that I would deliver to parents as I handed them the invitation. We all pay our dues though, right? I somehow managed to convince her to explore other options. Ice skating was up next. What desert kid doesn’t want to spend a few hours freezing their tush on the ice? She went once and fell in love. They have a great setup there too – you basically show up with a cake and boom! Your work is done. Daddy nixed that idea though because he wasn’t sure about 4-6 year-olds knowing how to skate. Between you and me though, I think he was afraid he would have to get on the ice. Gripping a wall for dear life as your legs splay out on either side of you probably isn’t great for the male ego. We made it back full circle to the backyard party. I tried once to throw in the idea of ditching the party altogether and running off to Disneyland (hope this isn’t a preview of my attitude when we are planning her wedding!). She wouldn’t go for it. Daddy again wasn’t thrilled with that idea purely because of cost. Silly man. After the cake, table rentals, activities, food and entertainment we probably could’ve done Disney a couple of times. That was nuts. Our next kid birthday is in April. I wonder how much I can get for a kidney…
