Today was my darling Smedley's fifth birthday. But we didn't tell her.
I know, I know, BAD MOMMY, BAD DADDY. She knows her birthday is "coming up," but we stopped the countdown several days ago because we won't have time together under the same roof until Saturday afternoon. And we didn't want her to have a bummer birthday. So, for all intents, Smedley's birthday is Saturday.
The funny thing is, she didn't know, so it didn't bother her one bit. But it bothered me. I hated not telling her. All day long I fought the urge to hug her and say, "Happy birthday, little one!" And I had to do a lot of conditioning with family and friends, as in, "Okay, the birthday is Saturday, got it? SATURDAY."
Five years old. It's such a cliché, but where has the time gone?
It certainly hasn't gone into party planning.