So last week I was consumed with making the neighbors think we had totally lost our minds (or at least misplaced our calendar).

I baked way too many of these.

And I even managed to make this, thanks to the kind woman at the local cake supply store who thought I was slightly crazy, but was nice enough not to say it out loud as she dug though her back store-room to find Halloween sugar decorations for me…on the first day of Spring.

I even survived a house full of costumed children who were hopped up on sugar.

And an equally crammed house-full of family on Sunday because I had the brilliant idea of knocking out both the friend and family parties in one weekend. Note to self: next year, give yourself at least a few days in between to recoup, or make sure there is some Glenlivet in the liquor cabinet. Either one will suffice.

My son, who is now 5 and holding for the next two years because I can’t imagine going through another birthday weekend until then, loved every minute of both of his parties. Seriously…just look at those pearly whites.

Don’t worry, he doesn’t bite. He can shout demands and order his minions around like nobody’s business, but those fangs are harmless.

After all the festivities (and 7 days full of craziness this week), I’m slowly coming back to life. I haven’t been on Facebook in almost two weeks so I feel completely disconnected from the world, and I’m too afraid to log on because of the daunting task of catching up, so please bear with me.

I’m still coming to terms with the fact that my son is 5. A friend asked me last week if I was sentimental about it because when her oldest turned 5, it was emotional for her. I told her that I was more emotional about Liv turning 3 than I was about Kade’s upcoming birthday (the typical “no more babies in the house” thing), but on Saturday night after the party was over, the mess was cleaned up, the house was quiet, and my tired children were snuggled up on my lap, it hit me. I held Kade close and cried into his hair as I wished him the happiest of birthdays. Liv asked me why I was sad. I told her that my tears were happy tears because I was so proud of her brother and how he has grown. They were thankful tears because he may be 5, but he isn’t too old to let me hold him close, rock him, and tell him I love him. They were sad tears too, because I will never get these 5 years back, but when I think of what’s to come I can’t help but smile. Until I think about high school. I am so not ready for that…