It can’t be just me. When I was a little girl, I remember looking forward to Ten as ‘big kid’. I don’t remember turning 9. I don’t remember 18 or 21. Maybe part of that has to do with my long-awaited sister finally gracing us with her presence (no, she wasn’t horribly overdue, but I sure had wanted a sister for a long time!). The birthday part wasn’t so special- my older brother and I sat in the waiting room, I believe ‘watching’ our 3 year old brother, while my step dad met my sister and we… didn’t.
But I was ten. And I was big. It’s only now that I realize I’ve never felt ‘older’ since I was 7.
LK turned 10 last week. He requested lemon cake, so I made a few test-batches beforehand and for his birthday made yellow cake with lemon buttercream frosting. That thing had about 4,500 calories in the frosting alone. I didn’t do the math until after I had scraped off most of my frosting (lemon isn’t my thing, but the lemon-cake lovers in the family were pleased with my efforts).
And this is what the face of a 10 year old opening his very first smartphone looks like.
We dined at a hibachi grill (I’m always so self-conscious taking pictures in there, so there really aren’t any).
And then a three-year-old who doesn’t know what it means to ‘turn ten’ taught us how to party. Yeah. That’s how we do.