I kept meaning to write this post, and never got round to it. Two weeks ago, Critter turned five. Which means its been over five years since I lay on bloodsoaked sheets in hospital, wondering how my baby could squeak before he was all the way out, and trying not to wonder if I was going to pass out. My sweet baby boy, my boogerface, my munchkin, my boyo is growing up. His vocabulary is increasing (he described dinner as delectable a couple months back. WHERE DOES HE LEARN THESE WORDS!!) almost daily, it seems, and his lego skills are enviable. I'm glad I have Gosling to be the baby, because Critter certainly isn't any more.
We had his birthday at the bowling alley, and my mum helped me to make a castle cake for him - he picked it out of the cake book. I love the cake book, but I might try to direct him towards something easier next time. The castle took 3 quantities of cake, and far too much icing. And I nearly had a meltdown trying to get the chocolate windows done.
I also made 4 dozen (48!!!) cupcakes for him to take to preschool. NEVER AGAIN.
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