About a million months ago Niamh turned 7. With the holidays, our thrice flooded basement, and my preoccupation with couches, I’ve neglected to tell the story of her birthday party.
Its been so long I can barely remember the details.
In an effort to avoid cleaning the house, we decided to take Niamh and 4 friends of her choosing to see the movie Tangled.
I will say this, I remember being surprised at who the trouble maker in the group was. Don’t be fooled by her innocent looks. Don’t be fooled, People. Keep a close eye on her. We found her in the bar at the theater…with a fake ID. (OK, I made up that last part.)
Look at Drew, she’s the third kid in the row. She spent a lot of the movie with her hands over her eyes. She is one of those funny kids that just can’t sit through any movie without getting scared. I found this out one day when she was over at our house and didn’t want to watch tv with Niamh and Jaya. What kid doesn’t want to watch television after school? When I finally got her to tell me why she didn’t want to sit with them, she said it was because she was afraid of the show they had on. It was The Care Bears: Adventures in Care-A-Lot. She’s a hopeless case.
Following the show, we had lunch at Gordon Biersch. Coincidentally, they serve really good, really large glasses of beer there. Gosh, that was such a nice surprise. Steve and I totally chose the restaurant based on proximity to the theater. I swear, we had no idea they were a brewery. Scouts honor.
And so, Niamh, that concludes your birthday post. I apologize that it did not get the attention it deserves. Next year, I’ll try harder. In the 7 weeks since your birthday, your Dad and I have really noticed you maturing. There are lots of hands on hips. Lots of eyes rolling. Lots of emotional meltdowns. You’re getting good at using just hand gestures to kick Daddy out of your room. Last week, when I asked you to pick up the books in your room and you said “And what are YOU doing right now, Mama, that you can’t do it?” Well, I started to cry inside. I’m terrified of age 15.
I love you, My Little Girl. Please, don’t change too much. I don’t think I can handle it.