Me: my baby is 8 today.
(maybe possibly rocking a Lauren Conrad. Her idea, obviously.)
her: who are you kidding??! Sweetie, she hasn’t been your baby since she was 4 months old.
me: *sigh* i know.
this is true. she has certainly NEVER been anything other than a miniature adult; precocious from the get-go. yeah, um, remember that year when she was TWO when she decided that pants were for boys only and i got several calls from several moms who were less-than-thrilled to have to shelve all their daughters’ size 2 pants. uh huh. that’s just Emily. strong-willed (some might call it stubborn) + trendsetter (some might call is bossy) = my first born.
so…the big sleepover party of 09 was this weekend.
9 girls. pizza. cake. nail polish. High School Musical 3 (which totally blew, by the way) gossiping (i got to learn all about ‘itchy Dylan’ – the boy in their class who openly goes to town on his privates. unsurprisingly, no one thinks itchy dylan is cute), playing with Indy (and learning that Emily’s friend Molly would call her shih-tzu “shit”. awesome. she’s totally invited back) and even though there was very little sleep and it was chaotic at times, Emily had a blast, and i’ll probably be THE BEST, MOST AWESOME MOM until tomorrow. maybe.
the shit line wasn’t the best line of the weekend. oh no. just wait for this one. my baby brother was in this weekend to HELP! visit and he was clearing off the table (huzzah! he cleans!) and said, “does this go in a special bin? you canadians have a bin for everything!”
and then Emily says…”no! we don’t have a bin for dignity!”
WHAT? where does she come up with this stuff??!
gah. please let me pretend she’s still my baby. just for a little while longer.
because when she announced at dinner last night that she totally knows that her parents have sex….i almost died. DIED. EIGHT. i’m scared for 12.