Nine

Birth"day" is something of a misnomer around here. We tend to spin the festivities into at least a full weekend of fun. Here are some shots from Bug's 48-hour Birthday Extravaganza...

Bug wanted a chocolate chip pie for her Real Birthday, and gazed happily into the candles' glow while we clustered around and sang to her. Really, it doesn't get much better than being a kid deciding on your birthday wish in those seconds before you blow out the candles.

Bug's new camera from Daddy S. & I was a big hit. She's showing the makings of being as completely obnoxious as I am about taking photos. Common refrain around here is now Bear crabbing, "Bug keeps taking my picture!" I imagine this is how most paparazzi get their start. As evidence of my continuing genius (you've started a file with these examples I give you, yes?), I submit The Sledding Party. Points to consider:

a. cheap (like, FREE)
b. completely exhausted children by end of party
c. at no point was I required to wear a bathing suit
c. did I mention the free?

Another genius brainchild of mine was to bake a small cake for each kid at the party. They had a ball slathering them with frosting and sprinkles, and because kids tend to be a wee bit proprietary about "their" cakes, there was no cake for me. Which is a very, very good thing considering the fact that I will be putting a bathing suit on in another four months or so.

Bug was very meticulous with her cake-decorating, working away on the details long after her friends had finished their cakes.

My nine-year-old Bug: dancer, reader, piano-player, artist, giggler, screecher, bouncer, budding mathematician, photographer, snuggler, and all-around sweetheart. Happy Birthday! I love you to pieces, baby.