Google Something Clever 2.0: Turning Five is Kind of a Big Deal

Jan 31, 2014

Turning Five is Kind of a Big Deal

Today is the boy's fifth birthday. We've been wrapped up in a whole lot of big-boy milestones recently. Such as...

The Big Boy Bedroom

Two weeks ago (okay, thirteen days), we redecorated his bedroom. He was still in his crib (with the front rail removed, of course) and using the combo changing table/dresser for his clothes. He really had no interest in transitioning to an actual bed, much like his indifference to removing the front rail when he was two. But I was sick of jamming his big-boy clothes into drawers that were designed for baby clothes. They just weren't shaped right.

So we got him a loft bed that has a built-in dresser beneath it, as well as a desk that pulls out. We also got him a bookcase, new curtains, posters, wall decals, lights, and bedding. The whole shebang. We did a Star Wars theme. The night that I ordered all the new furniture, he fell out of bed in the middle of the night. He didn't even wake up. He'd never fallen out of bed before. Nice timing, right? He did it the next two nights in a row, too. Again, we ordered a loft bed. Not cool, dude.

The bedroom was a surprise. We assembled most of the furniture in the living room the night before after he went to bed, and then crammed it all in our bedroom. The next morning, I took him to IKEA for a couple of hours while my husband and our friend set up the new room. Here it is:

I assure you, he's smiling.

Sweet, right? I'm jealous. This is now the coolest room in our house. And I know what you're thinking; the decals look like crap. My husband let him decide where to stick them himself. This actually hurt me to watch. I had to leave the room. But whatever, it's his room, right?

The Big Boy Birthday Party

The following Saturday was his birthday party. Have you ever taken nine small children mini-golfing? Oof. Of course, there were lots of parents there (in fact, we outnumbered them by one), but still. I got the bright idea to actually keep score. I gave up counting around the third hole, and just started asking the kids what number to write down. Sometimes they said one, even though I witnessed at least seven strokes. Sometimes said ten. One kid said a hundred. It was pretty cute.

Things got a little out of hand around the tenth hole...
Take it from me, if you have more than two kids golfing, don't keep score.

I set a new record with the cake this year! I usually end up staying up until three or four in the morning, but this year, I was done before midnight! I found an amazing fondant recipe that was not only much easier than the marshmallow fondant I used last year, it tasted delicious! Marshmallow fondant is so disgustingly sweet. This fondant tastes exactly like buttercream frosting. Bonus: it's vegan! (Unfortunately, the cake wasn't, so the boy's vegan friend couldn't have any, but don't worry; his mom brought him a cupcake. And she was excited to hear about the recipe.) So here's the cake:

Can you see the stars on the base?

And here's Alderaan, hung up across the room:

It's shooting Alderaan! With a green laser! So yeah, this isn't the most detailed cake I've ever made, but it is the only one that required batteries, so that's something. Also, you wouldn't believe how many times I had to shout, "Don't look at the laser!" during the party. Or maybe you would, because you're smarter than I am.

Cake info, if you care:
I used two 9-inch round pans for the base, and a Wilton Sports Ball pan for the Death Star. For stability, I stuck a six-inch round cake board (cardboard circle) in the middle of the Death Star, and there's a Wilton plastic dowel going through the base and the bottom half of the Death Star. The circle indentation was made by carving out a chunk of cake with the cap from a martini shaker. I cut a hole in the middle of the cake board and stuck another plastic dowel straight through the Death Star, and inserted the laser pointer inside the dowel (after taping the button down so it would stay on). I used buttercream frosting in between the cake layers, and lightly frosted the cakes before applying the fondant. 
To decorate, I used this buttercream fondant. Then, I added way too much black gel color and had to go out at nine o'clock at night for supplies to make more fondant. Please be careful, unlike me. It doesn't take much black to make light gray. I used a salad fork to make the markings on the Death Star. For the stars on the base, I mixed Wilton (yes, again-- I always use Wilton stuff) silver pearl dust with a few drops of vodka, dipped a toothbrush in the mixture, and then flicked it onto the cake with my thumb. Yes, I put vodka on a cake for children. Don't freak out. The reason you use vodka is because it evaporates in minutes. Nobody is going to get drunk. Alternatively, you could use vanilla extract, but that would tint it brown, and I'm pretty sure that has alcohol in it, too. 
The cake mix and frosting were store-bought. All the Wilton stuff is available at Michael's or A.C. Moore. If you have any cake questions, throw them in the comments and I promise I'll respond. Yes, even if you read this two years from now. 

The Big Boy Clothes

We were going through his new big boy dresser looking for a Star Wars shirt the morning of the party, and we discovered that they're all too small. In fact, a lot of his shirts were. Last time I shopped for him, I was disturbed to learn that not only is he now the largest size in the toddler department, 5T, but he also fits into extra-small shirts in the boys' department. This time, he was still the same size, but all the 5T stuff was way too babyish for him. I'm talking Sesame Street shirts. So he's officially in the boys' department now. Wow.

The Biggest Thing of All

The next day, Sunday, I went out to dinner with some local bloggers. JD of Honest Mom, Diane of Dollops of Diane, and I were discussing the excitement/apprehension of sending our kids to kindergarten in the fall. It's still eight months away, so it seemed pretty abstract. Like when I imagine the boy's future spouse. Until the next day, when my friend tagged me on Facebook to let me know that our town has posted the kindergarten registration forms. And I have to file them in a month. Holy bananas, you guys. My kid is going to school.

The forms were crazy, by the way. Here's a sampling:
What is the native language of each parent/guardian?
What language(s) are spoken in your home?
Which language did your child learn first?
Which language do you most frequently speak to your child?
What other languages does your child know?
In what language would you like to receive notices from school?
Does that really need to be six separate questions? And more importantly, do you think I need to let them know that he speaks about twenty words of Mandarin that he learned from Ni Hao, Kai-Lan, or do they only want to know which languages he's fluent in? I mean, what if the teacher holds up a picture of an apple, and he calls it a píng-guǒ, and then he gets an F for not knowing his fruits? I guess I'll find out.

Sorry that was so long. I guess I've been holding a lot of stuff in, huh? Well, that's all for now. If you need me, I'll be at Friendly's. Gross.