Thoughts on a Fifth Birthday

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So there’s this boy living in our house.   Apparently I am going to marry him when he gets older.   He has, on occasion removed his daddy’s arm from around my waist and said, “I’ll just give that back to you, daddy,” before branding me his own with a kiss.

He likes his orange juice in a special glass.  But that’s ok.  I have my own coffee cup.  

When he’s sleepy and tired he needs to go to bed, like now.  And he will nod off within minutes.   A bit like me too.

When he wakes, he prefers to lie there until his legs are “fully charged” and his eyes “like the brightness” before he even thinks about climbing out. He didn’t get that one from the ground either!

There was massive excitement this week at the prospect of turning five.  “That’s almost double digits, right, Mammy?”  

But once upon a time he didn’t want to grow up.   There was a myriad of reasons.

Including:

His teeth will fall out.  That will be sore.  And he won’t be able to eat apples.

Grown-ups don’t like stuff when they are grown up.  Like chocolate.  He is scared he won’t like chocolate and his sock anymore.

It will mean he has to go to school.  He doesn’t want to go to school because he will be lonely. 

He didn’t want to not wear nappies ever.  Like never.  Nuh uh!

He will have to sleep in a big bed.

He won’t be able to use the thing in the park that he needs to hold onto with two hands and rock.  I have no idea either.

But we’re definitely getting there.    Big school is just around the corner.   There are regular inspections for lose teeth and daily expressions of fear that they might be loose.  Finally, we are a nappy free house.   I have sleep again.   Bathroom breakdown assist is still a thing but we’re getting there.

And on this momentous of days, there will be two cakes.  Because, you know, you’re only five once in your life and you need one for school and one for “the actual day you’re borned.”  And why not?  So Lidl’s best chocolate creation went into school today with a few Munchie’s, Rolo’s and tiny Smarties glued to the top with melted chocolate.  The cake for “the actual day he was borned” will be a meringue of the “half and half” variety.     “Half with strawberries and cream and half with cream and sweets!”  Gotcha!

He wanted to carry his non-birthday cake into school.  My first thought was a definite, “No, he’ll drop it.”  And then, “ah fek it.  He can carry it if he wants to.”   I lifted it out of the car.  And I dropped it.

He has built his 5^th birthday up to Christmas morning magnitude.  There is one present waiting for him.  From his nana.   Couple of weeks ago he was on the verge of an “I’m not leaving till I get it” standoff in Dunnes stores when he spotted PAW Patrol merchandise.  So I told him he could have them but they were an early birthday present.   Did this sink in?  No.  Of course it didn’t.    it’s been totally, conveniently forgotten.  At least he’ll have a *balloon to play with.

I thought a *helium balloon might be a nice touch.  A bit of a surprise for when he wakes up in the morning.  

“Any ideas on a birthday present for a 5-year-old?” said the text.    I made the stupid stupid mistake of asking the 5-year-old.    You’d think I hadn’t been at the fifth birthday milestone three times before.    He decided he would quite like an aeroplane but his spec was fierce complicated and I told him he would have to become a toy maker and make one with those requirements himself.  I fired off a text along the lines of “a bag of play sand and something with wheels, please.  Or a snorkel for the pool.”   Be grand.

He expressed an interest in a windmill for his birthday present.  The joy.  How simple.  How easy.  How inexpensive.   But it’s too early.  It’s not quite windmill season yet.   I did manage to procure two very very small ones however.   Be grand.   He’ll be totally distracted by the helium balloon. And the half and half cake. 

And if that fails, the bubble machine from nana will definitely save the day.  

I hope. 

Happy birthday smallest boy.