Eight is, indeed, great

 Haddie’s 8th birthday had all the fixins for a perfect day and for the most part, it was. I chaperoned her class trip to the Denver Museum of Nature & Science and she had her first sleepover with a few of her besties that night.

We surprised her that morning by completely covering her bedroom floor with balloons and taping streamers to her door. I envisioned her busting through as we victoriously chanted, “8, 8, 8!” Instead, she crawled underneath.

 Oh, the anti-climax.

The Fete
Haddie’s party more than made up for it. Eight was the magical number when she could have her first sleepover so she invited a few of her friends. They made individual pizzas and had a sundae bar…

And loaded up on candy (including Pop Rocks for the first time):

Maeve, Kasey, Alex and Haddie

Jamie did not have Pop Rocks in his mouth. Judge him all you want.

The Spa
The girls taught Hadley how to jump rope on the front lawn (reminiscing “Teddy Bear” was so sweet and fun) but one of the highlights was our spa night where I introduced them to facials with a sugar rub and yogurt-oatmeal mask and hot rock treatment in a candlelit room with soft music.

They thought they’d died and gone to heaven.

Hadley and Maeve

Jamie’s sister Lisa helped me juggle them all and we chuckled at their comments. “Ahhh, I could do this every day.” “Can I eat the cucumbers?” “Just relax, Hadley!” Maeve–a sweet, mellow girl–took to it like fish to water and it was almost life-changing for her.

I’m sure her mom is going to bill me for her future spa habit.

Later that night after a movie, Alex had to go home and  it was Operation TP. I’m not sure who dreamed up the idea (probably me) but I gave Kasey and Maeve yellow streamers and Hadley a half-roll of toilet paper. You can’t do much damage with those (plus our victims have wee trees) but you’d have never known that.

They. Had. A. Blast. Giggling. Racing around. Hiding behind lamp posts.  They finally had license to do something on the sly and they ran with it…all the way back to our house.

I’m just hoping  we’re not their next target.

The Quote

Later in the evening after we’d had birthday sundaes and cookies (she didn’t want a cake), we had a scary moment with Alex. One thing you should know about her: someday she is going to be a star and she’s so over-the-top with everything (see this hilarious ditty last winter).

Alex had just popped a cookie in her mouth and the next thing I knew, she was writhing on the kitchen floor, choking and spitting it out. I freaked out, raced over, started whacking her on the back screaming to Jamie as the girls watched in horror. It probably lasted only 30 seconds but it felt like an eternity as she finally hocked the last of the cookie out of her blocked passageway.

Relieved, we watched her get up, clean her face off as I wiped up the mess off the floor, and without skipping a beat, she warned: “We must NEVER speak of that.”

The Morning After

It’s the 8-year-old version of What Happens in Vegas, Stays in Vegas.

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