Miss7 Transforms Herself Into a Graceful Miss8

Having heard the crisp crinkling of wrapping
paper, Miss8 races over to greet some friends.

The red carpet was rolled out for Miss7 today as she clicked over to a very grown up Miss8.

In keeping with tradition we were woken at the crack of 5am for birthday wishes and the presenting of presents. Also in keeping with tradition we gave her nothing but firm instructions to get her now eight year old bum back in her bed until at least 7am.

By 6.30am we’d given up shooing her away and got everyone in the household up. If we had to be awake they could all damn well be awake with us.

Much singing and hugging and kissing ensued and finally we got to the whole point of the day and she opened her presents – a pogo stick, lots of clothes and Hanna Montana everything.

Then she was off to Grandma Judy’s for a couple of hours to bake her cake – a beautiful butterfly.

Because she knows I’m hopeless, Tracey had the whole party sitting in a box on the kitchen table before she went off to work. My instructions were to make fairy bread and fruit salad and, for the love of Pete, make sure the kids were dressed nicely and their hair was combed by the time she got home.

After further thought, Tracey pulled out the clothes she wanted the kids to wear and changed my orders from ‘make sure the kids are dressed nicely’ to ‘make sure the kids are dressed’. Not a problem.

Then I had a nap and would have been sleeping with the dog is not for the help of Miss16 at the eleventh hour.

Miss8’s party was at a local park this afternoon and we kept it really simple – fairy bread, fruit salad, cake, lollies, chips, biscuits and cordial.

All twenty of the ten kids she invited turned up. It was supposed to be a one hour festivity but ended up stretching out to two and a half hours of screaming and giggles.

At one point we couldn’t find Master6 – my brother-in-law pointed over my shoulder and called out to me, “He’s over there. Looking under the dunny doors.” And sure enough, there he was, down on his knees, peering under the doors trying to find his cousin. Everyone turned to look while I just turned red. Bloody kids. I’ll have to add ‘don’t look under toilet doors’ to the list of things we remind the kids about before we take them out of the house. I’ll fit it between ‘don’t take off all your clothes to chase people around with your bum monster’ and ‘don’t walk up to strange men and ask them if they’re your father’.

Cake was a hit, although candles were living their lives like Norma Jean. An unexpected treat was Cousin8 playing Happy Birthday for Miss8 on guitar – he’s been practicing something big me thinks because he nailed it.

Tonight we set the kids up, including Miss16, in the lounge room with pillows and mattresses and they watched some movies before falling asleep as the sugar wore off.

Great day. Miss8 was chuffed.

Master6 wore his helmet all day regardless of
what activity he was doing. We must have looked
like the worst case of helicopter parenting in the
world as he went down slides and swings with his
head well protected. Tried to coerce it off him but he
was having none of that.

Miss3 showing she hasn’t quite
got the hang of swings yet.
Miss1 showing why you shouldn’t leave anything
within reach of young children – when we left the
park she had neither a helmet on her head nor a tray
of fairy bread on her lap.

What do you think?

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