Eight is Great!

So my oldest just turned 8. I know it’s such a cliche, but DAMN… where does the time go? Every morning she wakes up and it seems like she’s grown another 1/2 an inch — which isn’t surprising since the kid eats more than I do and sleeps like a teenager.

She celebrated her birthday this past weekend with her 7 closest friends at the hip and trendy Strike OC. Just a disclaimer… we are SO not the typical OC family (which is funny because now that I think about it, no one I know fits that description which makes me wonder who this *typical* family really is. Apparently I need to do some research, maybe into the dark confines of Coto or Newport Coast…). As I was saying, Strike is this hip and cool bowling place — TVs everywhere, neon bowling pins, couches, waitresses… It really is pretty cool — and this is pretty high praise coming from someone who grew up in Michigan. We KNOW bowling. And that isn’t such a hard thing to understand — when you grow up in sub-zero weather you become really good at a few things… bowling, card games and shot-gunning beers just to name a few.

To the untrained eye, my daughter’s party at Strike went off without a hitch. Behind the scenes, however, there was drama. And this just kills me. I actually remember being eight. And I don’t remember drama (that’s not to say there wasn’t actually drama — it’s just that all those subsequent years of shot-gunning beers has apparently given me selective memory). But at eight? Really? It’s given me a glimpse into my future world with two teenage girls and I am seriously beginning to thing that I need to become a Buddhist. Or an alcoholic (shot-gunning beers… are you seeing a theme here?).

Overall, I was pretty happy with how my daughter handled the drama. She was gracious and kind and didn’t let any of it get her down. And, yeah, I know… she’s her father’s daughter. 🙂

Here’s a shot of the birthday crew (shot with my trusty point and shoot)….