This wasn't one of those times.
Ordinarily, we don't go big on kid birthdays. We keep it pretty mellow. Special, but mellow. They don't get parties every year, only at 1,5,10,13 and 16. Even then, if they pull a boneheaded move, like intentionally scratching my minivan several times, the party will get cancelled.
Get in your way back machine. Remember when you were 15? You loooooved some singer or band? Maybe it was NKOTB or Debbie Gibson or Taylor Dane. Maybe you are a coot like me and it was Leif Garrett, Duran Duran or Sean Cassidy? Ok, you're cooler than me, how about KISS, or Madonna? Whoever it was you knew all the music, all the facts,cut out the Tiger Beat posters and got them covered in root beer lip smakers saying goodnight? Imagine your very first concert being THAT.
Now hold onto the 15 year old superfan you just mustered up.
This week, Bekah turned 15.
To attempt to scratch the image of my horrendous closet out of your minds, and try (feebly) to re-establish my homemaker cred...I bring to you, The Birthday- A Photo Essay
|And that is all some of you need.|
|Yes I bake. And wear aprons. And broke my fashion rule: Puffy sleeves OR strappy shoes, not both.|
|She picked the meal: baked potato bar. No, we don't put grapes on the potatoes.|
|"Nice, Mom- I see you are using up the Christmas paper from last year."|
|Oh, it's a cute purse!|
|Filled with all kinds of things like lipgloss, nail polish, and a new wallet. Wonder what's in this wallet?|
|*Insert ear shattering scream here*|
|It's not about the gifts or the surprise or the opportunity to make a teenager's birthday wish come true- it's about this. We love this kid!|