My baby girl is turning five on Monday. Five. I've been telling her all week that I love Four so much that I want her to stay Four. Four is so sweet and affectionate and adorable. Each time I say it, Katie giggles and says, "No, I want to have a birfday and be five. I want to grow up! I'll still love you when I'm five!" And I tell her no, we'll have a birthday party, but it will be her Fourth birthday.
She doesn't care much for that suggestion.
Meanwhile, my usual temporary birthday insanity has taken over, and I've attempted to make these for the party. I don't know what possessed me to think this was a good idea, but it's done. I have company coming in the morning, the house is a mess, and the entire kitchen is candy-coated, but the cupcake pops are done. I don't know why I lose my mind every time one of my kids has a birthday. I am not a crafter or a baker. I have no tolerance for things that require attention to detail. But three times a year, I see something cute on the internet and say to myself, "YES. That is exactly what I need to spend my entire day doing, even though it is far beyond my skill level and will frustrate me beyond belief. How fun!"
So for now, I am going to bed and leaving the kitchen candy-coated until morning. Some close friends from Nashville are coming to stay here for the weekend with their precious baby, so we'll be doing lots of visiting and spades playing and birthday partying and enjoying the last few days of Age Four in our home. It looks like it's going to be a good weekend.
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