Why Can't My Babies Grow Up to Be Babies?

The X-Man is turning 6 next month. I ordered some cute invites and got them ALL sent out right on time (you may or may not know I am an epistolary loser, English degree and all). And then one of our lovely friends pointed out that the invites are for the X-Man's 5th!!!! birthday party!!!! Oy.

The thing is, I'm not that sentimental about milestones or the kids growing up and flying the coop or any of that. I failed baby book 101, I never teared up with them outgrowing the crib (or in the X-Man's case, getting kicked out). First day of school I get the teensiest bit verklempt, but for the most I'm just not that sentimental. I mean my job essentially is to work myself out of a job. So if I'm doing my job well the birthdays they keep a-comin', the kids they keep a-growin' and it's all blowin' in the wind. My conclusion--this says more about my last birthday (4-0) and the sieve-like container that used to be my brain.