Happy 8th Birthday Lillie McCanless!

Well, it’s official.

I’m old. McCanless is eight.  As of 8:51 AM today, to be exact.

I’ll spare you with my sappy “how can she be 8 years old” story.  I know every mom feels the exact same when their baby turns yet another year older.  But really, how can she be eight already!?

And what’s even harder for me to fathom is the simple fact that she is closer to fifteen than zero.  She clearly explained this to me early this morning as I tried to snuggle with her and sing Happy Birthday to her.

“See mom, eight is closer to fifteen than seven is to zero.”  Mel math at its finest.

She may be closer to fifteen, but she still loves her silky.  After a few snuggles, she jumped up, ready to begin her birthday!

The girls were actually ready when Zara, our friend, neighbor and carpool partner, arrived.  We got a Happy Birthday call from Aunt Liz and took a few photos with the yearly birthday blow up.

with song and dance of course.

We’ve been celebrating all week so far.  (Doesn’t everyone have birth weeks?)  And last night we did what our family does best on birthdays.

Vamos a comer Mexicano!  (Senora Denny would be so proud.)

Cheese dip and margaritas for all!

We are quite a bunch, and growing louder each year.  If that’s even possible.

And by loud, I mean these two.  Yes, Mary Clare that’s exactly what everyone around you felt like, too.

At one point we noticed Bonnie and Clyde arguing over something.  When I listened closer, I realized they were trying to “decide” who knew more Spanish.  Mary Clare insisted that she did, naturally.

“See, listen to me….Bippity, Bobbity, Boo!”

I missed photos with Nonnie, Bubba and Bapa, and Dopey and Sneezy and Doc.  Oops.

Today, she took blue snowflake cupcakes to school.  I always let her design her cake and cupcakes for her yearly celebration, and I think that’s more of a bigger deal than presents OR party.  She draws up designs all year long.  I may have a future cake baker and decorator on my hands.  Quite the creative one, she is.

This weekend, we aren’t having a party.  We have even bigger plans.  Tonight, she decided to celebrate at the Japanese Steakhouse but asked me NOT to tell them it’s her birthday.

“You know, Mom, where they fire up your food and sling it on your plate.  We’ll hide Mary Clare’s face, because I know she hates the fire.”

Oh, McCanless, I just love you, my little 8-year-old.

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