Birthday Girl

The long awaited day finally arrived and not a moment too soon.

A birthday. Not just any old birthday but the day in which she would turn into a way-grown-up big girl. I guess 8 must be the number that transforms a person into the big girl in the dreams.

With the attitude she sported in the couple weeks prior to the big day, I was slightly fearful that I would wake up the morning of the fourth and discover that our little lady was not turning 8 but rather 18.

She's a pretty tiny little thing, but makes up for her small size in large doses of spunkiness.

I think the day was everything she was hoping it would be....minus the party with friends. I greatly admire all you moms out there who year after year invite all the little friends and throw a big bash. Last year I bit the bullet and invited four whole friends for the big day. Just four...and I was so weary after the fact that I decided then and there it was likely a once-in-a-lifetime event. I'm not exactly a big bash planner so perhaps therein lies the problem.

She did have an unanswered question. "How much did I weigh when I was born, Mommy?" I don't like that kind of questions. It's selfish, really, but I still don't like them. I had to tell her that I had no idea how much she weighed. No clue. I don't know if she was three pounds, five pounds, or ten pounds. I don't know if she had a huge head full of hear or if she was completely bald. I don't know if she cried a lot or if she was content.

I can guess at all those things. I can tell her that she was likely not very big...maybe around five pounds when she was born. I can guess at the amount of hair she had. I can fully suspect that she started out as a noisy baby, one who cried when she was hungry and needed a diaper change and maybe just wanted to be held. I can also fully suspect that when those needs were not met she likely became a very quiet baby, one that some folks may call content, but in reality had just learned that crying didn't help and therefore did no good.

That's what's hard. I don't really know the answers to any of those questions. And she desperately wants to know. Desperately. Her brothers eyes kind of glaze over when she starts asking that kind of thing. They really don't care. Who cares how big they used to be...they're BIG now. Who cares how much hair they used to have...now they just have to get dreaded haircuts. Who cares if they used to be happy...now as long as they can run like little hooligans they are beyond pleased.

The differences between boys and girls are amazing to me.

Back to the topic at hand.

She left for school yesterday morning with a smile that engulfed her face. She made sure her birthday treats would be showing up sometime. She wasn't going to tell anyone it was her birthday cause she didn't want to be sung to. HaHa. She loves the attention. :)

I did show up with her birthday treats...fruit kabobs with the chosen fruit. Red grapes, green grapes, pineapple, strawberries, and orange sections. Not a bad choice for a birthday snack considering it was chosen by a nearly eight year old. I was totally impressed.

She came bouncing in the door from school ready to take on the world. She ripped open the two birthday cards that had come in the mail, got totally frustrated when she couldn't read the cursive writing, had to ask for help.

She tore up the steps to change her clothes so she could go outside to play. No work on a birthday you know. And she used that to the fullest.

Once she was ready to greet the great warm, sunny outdoors, I got Ty ready to go out with her, which totally and completely made her day. She pushed him around in the stroller for over an hour, fulfilling her dreams and giving me a break from a grouchy baby.


She rolled down the dirt pile, loved on the stinky barn cats, pestered Jack, ran pell-mell, asked every few minutes if it was time for supper yet.

Grandpa and Grandma showed up for the long-awaited birthday supper making the day nearly complete (cheesy chicken jumbo, bread, corn chip salad, cake and ice cream)...and uncle Ivan came for cake and ice cream which topped it off.


She thoroughly enjoyed ripping open her gifts and the day was then over.

She got her horse cake, she got her 'soft' lunch box that EVERYONE else has, a few fluffy white chickens that she actually got a month ago, a box of birthday cards as she LOVES to send cards to everyone she knows, and a few other odds and ends.


Oh. And she also got a 'tool box' and a cup from her brother Will. Purchased with his very own money.


Her day was a happy one.

She already CAN'T WAIT until she turns nine. :)

I can. I don't feel nearly old enough to have an eight year old. That means that in just five years we'll have a teenager. gulp.

And our days go on. The pre-birthday attitude has thankfully nearly disappeared and our sweet yet spunky little lady has returned.

Perhaps one of these days the time will be found to update in some more areas of our lives. Perhaps.

It only took five days to get this typed up and posted. ;)