she is nine. I am the mom of a nine year old. Oh how that hurts my heart to type. Nine. The last year of single digits. P has been counting down the days. Me, not so much. She could hardly wait to be 9, and I would have been happy with 8 for much, much longer! But alas...
The celebration this year consisted of a sleepover with a few friends. Bless her, she went back and forth with all the ways in which she wanted to celebrate, one of which included "building" a bear, but in the end, we went with a sleepover with friends. That's right, friendS. Like more than one. Like six. I guess I am a sucker or a glutton for punishment. Or both.
The big day fell on a Friday this year, so it worked perfectly for having friends to spend the night. Six of her pals showed up Friday evening for the festivities. Instead of building bears, we built our own pizzas.
While the pizzas were in the oven we had a riveting game of charades. Oh my gracious, if you have never played charades with 8 year old girls, you are without a doubt missing out. Oh the hilarity. Between the pizzas and cupcakes we also had our very own dance party with dj Dad. I wish we had pics of the oh so stellar dancing, but I guess dj Dad couldn't drop the beats and be the photog at the same time. So, you are just going to have to take my word for it that these girls dance moves were no joke.
Somehow in my planning for this I thought it would be a great idea for the girls to frost and decorate their own cupcakes. Again, sucker or glutton? The frosting. Oh the frosting!
After watching two movies most of the girls crashed with the exception of a couple. Bless them. They were still ready to party well into the night!
In the morning I made blueberry muffins. The girls built a gigantic fort in the family room with every blanket under the sun, and then went outside until it was time to be picked up. I think they had a good time, and we are glad they all came to be a part of celebrating Peyt's day.
Peyt, I love you more than you could ever know. You are my firstborn; the baby that made me a mommy. I love you always! Happy Birthday sweet girl! And remember, this was your last one; no more birthdays for you.
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