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On March 30, my small boy turned five. FIVE! Wow. Though I know where those years went, where did those years go? Five, according to this BIG boy, is a big deal. Five means you feel bigger and “longer.” Five means you get dressed by yourself (!) most mornings. Five means you ski faster than some of the bigger kids. Five means you’re ready for your own violin lessons. first lesson

The big day came with a predicted major snowstorm, and we scrapped any thoughts of a party, except one here at home. And it was a lovely day, with special breakfasts, and gifts of Legos and spy gear (big brother did well this year), and a white cake with chocolate frosting and strawberries on top, as requested. perfect cakehappy birthdaywished

But he cried, hard, when we told him there would be no “real” party. The roller rink? he asked. The Maine Jump? A house party, here at home? Though we assured him that a party would come, he cried. And cried. As it turns out, a party was what he wanted most.

So we made a party. It took a week, but he got a big gym, full of people he loves, sweet cake, make-your-own ice cream sundaes, paper airplanes, balloons, craft projects, and fun. balloon playmoms' cornermagic fishbutterflymaking thingscraft tablefish on hookskeep the balloon afloatget itfirst giftwar to come

I think we won.

However, five or not, he’s still (ALWAYS) my baby.