It’s the law that every mom with a blog has to use that title when her kid turns five, right?

It’s also the law that I have to make one of these:

That’s my girl on each of her birthdays.

I feel like I should write about how she’s grown, what a big girl she is, blah blah blah. We all know I love her. She knows I love her. While her fifth birthday does bring about some strong emotions – love, disbelief at how the time flies, pride at the funny, creative, loving, silly, super-smart person she’s becoming – they’re really no different than what most moms feel. I don’t feel like reinventing the sappy wheel. I feel like throwing a party. A teeny, tiny party.

It all started about two months ago. While shopping at Michael’s I found a pile of Martha Stewart Tiny Party kits, marked down to $7 from $30. I had no idea what the hell to do with this stuff that would appeal to a bunch of overstimulated preschoolers who probably don’t appreciate the charm of all things wee. Kids are happy with cake and piles of balloons and/or shredded scrap paper. Martha Stewart kids party kits exist for one purpose: gratifying the five-year-old’s craft-happy mother who’s easily swayed by items 1/5th their normal size.

Tiny food. I can do tiny food. It helps that at the market in our neighborhood, they sell these really tasty mini hot dogs in the deli, and divvy them out to all the kids who come into the store. We have a real Lil’ Smoky dependency problem in the 2-10 year old demographic in these parts. So of course, I had to serve the local crack, which happens to be wee. Score!

My friend Mary, who’s the pastry chef at Wapango and I think you need to go visit her because she’s awesome, volunteered to make tiny little buns for our tiny little hot dogs. Couldn’t you just die of cute?

Nevermind that holy crap, it’s real, handmade bread and not a factory-produced hot dog bun. Delish!

The adults were charmed. I think most of the kids preferred the “fistful o’ Smokies” presentation. Oh well.

Other tiny foods: baby carrots, gherkins, piccolino farfalle pasta with marinara, Baby Goldfish crackers, those tiny little bananas with chocolate sauce for dipping, tiny teddy party mix (fancy name for a bowl full of Teddy Grahams and gummy bears). Mini cupcakes are a given.

Let’s not talk about the tiny caramel apples. Whimsy Girl made them look so easy!  I used caramel instead of butterscotch chips, which was a mistake. Some food sciency things happened with the quantity of water in the peeled apple pieces and the caramel, which is soupier than melted butterscotch chips. They went in the trash.

To drink? Three-ounce juice boxes and those 8 oz. cans of 7-Up and root beer. I thought about giving the parents airline bottles of booze. Or jello shots.

Favors! So many little favors! The party kit came with cute little treasure boxes, which we filled with little plastic animals, tiny gel pens and crayons, little stampers, wee kaleidoscopes, matchbook-sized notebooks and kiddie-sized Twisted bracelets from Courtney, and a palm-sized mix CD with songs picked by the birthday girl.

Brian worked his ass of, making personal-sized pinatas, which we didn’t remember to photograph until they were in the hands of the kids.

Little kids love centerpieces, right? I made them from 5″ balloons on sticks, teensy pinwheels, all bundled with Pixy Sticks and tied with ribbon.

I put several of these in quart jars on each table and sent them home with bouquets of colored sugar.

Oh, and those little cakes, covered with mini chocolate chips.

Most of the tiny hats were worn as makeshift unicorn horns or very dangerous eye patches.

I planned wee activities, like a mini version of Musical Chairs where, instead of chairs, they were going to stand on tiny paper plates. We never got around to that, because it turns out, all kids really need is some music, a bunch of balloons, and a bloodstream full of sugar to have a good time. Brian’s pinatas, filled with miniature candy bars, wound up being the only organized activity.

On the count of five! Everyone throw your pinatas on the floor and scramble for candy!

Oh, wait. The pinatas were made by an engineer. Engineers build things to not be destroyed. Best start stomping!

Holy crap! These dino eggs are filled with candy!

Clara Jane opened an insane wealth of gifts from her way generous little friends, who clamored for her to open this next! Open mine next! Since we didn’t get a chance to throw the gifts onto a table, the kids sort of rotated around the room, in sort of a roaming spree of paper-shredding.

It was a great time. A day of tiny chaos and little noise.

And best of all, a day to celebrate my tiny baby, who is no longer tiny nor a baby, but a really awesome big girl.

(Don’t tell her, but she’ll always be my tiny little baby. I don’t care how much she protests.)