I feel like this is a rite of passage kind of birthday... Somehow, when you turn five, you're not a "baby" anymore. But my brain is having difficulty making this connection. How can my baby not be a baby...
And yet, here she is... absolutely beautiful, a far cry from the very grey, cheesy, pitiful little thing she was when she came into the world:
Miah chose Chuck-E-Cheese for her birthday dinner (should I admit that the one good thing about getting the "baby" to age five is that I do not see any more trips to the rat infested, cardboard pizza palace in our future):
And, here, she is blowing out a five candle that is stuck in a pan of brownies, because the cake is coming at the party, later on:
Per normal, she made out like a bandit in the birthday present department:
She even got a unicorn, compliments of Daddy who had to work pretty hard to figure out which of the secret Lego minifigures was the unicorn, without opening the packages:
Even though I'm having a little bit of trouble processing how quickly she's growing up, I can't wait to see what the next five years hold...
Mama loves you, "Miah Moose"... Much... Much... Much...
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