Six Already

Jensen is six! Can you believe it? Of course, if she's six, that means that Brent just turned 45 and me, 42. Wow. We figured out last weekend (by we, I mean my brother Jared, who had a good laugh over it), that Brent will be 58 when Jensen graduates from high school. I gotta tell you, though, that having a little tag-a-long child at the end has been pure joy. I think everyone should do it. Other than having to dye my hair forever so people aren't asking Jensen if I'm her Grandma, I'm looking forward to the next few years. Since I usually don't have birthday parties with friends for the kids until they are 8, I hadn't really been thinking of a party for Jensen. However, she had. The Sunday before her birthday, she invited everyone she saw at church, no matter what age, to her party. She was so excited about it, I couldn't say no. (Part of that spoiled last child thing, I know, I know. . . .) No matter how much I tried to talk her into unicorns, Jensen wanted a "horse" party. Keep in mind that it is my SIL Lauralee who is the champion kid party-thrower in our family, and her living across the US really throws me into a panic at times like these. What the heck am I going to do for a horse party? Well, thank goodness Jensen was born in the days of the worldwide web and Zurchers party store, because between the two, we had a grand party with five friends (I made her whittle down her list considerably). Thanks, Laurie, Shaina, and Rily for all of your help with the party!

We followed up the friend party with a family dinner at Chuck E. Cheese, where "kids can play while moms relax" according to Jensen and the TV. That place is kid paradise, and Jensen couldn't have been more thrilled. We left Friday for Sun Valley to see Jared and Maren, ski, sled, hang out, eat a lot, and get our teeth worked on. My baby, who is absolutely terrified of anyone doing any kind of work on her, was so brave! She had to have some fillings, and we have been talking about it for a couple of weeks, psyching her up, positive mom-talk, all of that. She had finally convinced herself that since she would be six, since she could watch a movie at Uncle Jared's office while he worked on her, and since he had something called "happy gas," she might be ok. When I peeked into the room after she was in the chair and settled, I saw her crying softly and wiping the tears away quickly, trying so hard to get through. The hygenist was very sweet and telling her that they would take good care of her and that Uncle Jared would be very careful with her. Once the movie was going, the tears stopped, and she did terrific! The worst part was afterward when she realized she was numb and it wasn't going away immediately. That's when she cried a lot. Oh well. It was a big step for her, and I was just grateful she didn't have to be sedated or strapped down or something. My baby is growing up. . . . Anyway, Happy Birthday to most of us at my house!