My baby is six! His grandma showed up at our house Friday night with a six year old picture of her holding my newborn son.
I’d been forcing those thoughts out of my head all day. My baby, that baby that I held and rocked and shushed night after night is a big boy. I gave him a harmonica for his birthday. A dumb move? No. He’s old enough now not to blow a lung’s worth of air randomly through the pipes. He’s creative and more interested in making a melody than noise… and it’s killing me! Where’d my baby go? When did I get this old? Really, now!
We celebrated creepy-crawly style at the park with a handful of William’s closest friends.
Bad weather threatened and sprinkles had already come through by the time the party got started but we were going to tough it out. We played games under cover and made cute fuzzy spiders and then once the wet gusting wind hit we moved the party indoors. (Thanks Mom and Dad for all your help!)
Happy birthday my little boy! Thank you for being such an awesome big brother, a loving son and an all around good kid.
P.S. Yes, that is a gummy worm in the Jello. No, I didn’t try one. Yuck!