My Stars!

Today we threw a princess party for my new 4 year old! Crowns, jewels, and star sunglasses all around because, as my 4 year old put it, “I want everyone to be stars!” Fun was had by all, as you can tell by the picture below of the guests all wearing their cool shades. The pretty lady in the hat is my momma.

In honor of my daughter’s birthday this week, my Opinion Saturday contest this week is about birthdays. Tell me about your most memorable birthday as a child!! Which birthday first comes to your mind, and why? I’ll be giving out my Very Interesting Person Award for this one (see my sidebar) and you have until Monday evening to respond.


  1. Happy Birthday to the beautiful 4yo!

    Can you throw my next party? It looks like everyone had a blast. :o)

  2. I hate to be negative. But my most memorable birthday was the one I spent, miserable and slightly ill in the tummy, in Richmond, VA. (my 14th bday, that is) My dad had taken a job there and we were up for the weekend house-hunting. The night before my birthday they took turns hanging out with me while the other scoured the mall for anything that might work as a present. The next morning, before heading back out to look at houses again, I received a Howard Jones tape, and blue eyeliner and mascara. (YES it was the 80s). I liked my gifts, but I HATED Richmond. Things got a bit better when we got home and my brother gave me an Anne McCaffrey book.

    Things got even better than that when my Dad gave up the Richmond job in favor of a job in Greenville,SC. Turns out my mom hated Richmond too. My Dad liked that job better than the SC one – but gave it up for us. He is so cool!

  3. Oh hands down it was my 8th birthday. I had a small party at my house- Chinese food included! After my friends left my grandparents, siblings, parents and I hung around recounting the fun. We heard a funny noise coming from the bathroom and all headed down the hallway. When we entered we found our cat, Bear Bear (who we acquired from the neighbor by accident…..) giving birth to KITTENS! We had no idea she was pregnant! I can remember yelling out "Thank you Bear Bear"….my parents looked a bit confused so I responded to their odd looks by saying "not everybody's cat gives them a birthday gift"! My poor grandmother was mortified and had my grandfather take her home. My sister and I got to watch our cat give birth that night- with my parents. It was truly magical- a birthday I'll never forget. (I did get to keep a kitten too!)

  4. Happy birthday to your beautiful girl! I can tell who your older girls are, even in sunglasses, because they have your smile.

  5. Happy Birthday Pretty Girl!

    We didn't have very many friend birthday parties growing up. They were usually anuts, uncles and cousins. So when I had my 7th birthday party, it was a big deal. I remember helping my mom plan the party and handing out invitations (I felt SO important when I handed them out at school). The day of the party, I helped my mom clean the house. My dad went to the store to get ice cream while my mom did last minute touches. I remember having my hair all done up and a pink baby doll dress on. I was standing at the front window, watching for my dad and my friends, when I spied an orange crayon stuck in the window track. I went and got a fork to get it out. The fork slipped and cut my finger. I bawled and bawled. My mom put a band-aid on my finger and made it all better. The party was great. I felt so happy and important. I remember playing pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey and a coin toss game. I got Strawberry Shortcake things (which was every girl's dream back then). It was just a wonderful, special time.

  6. You have such a beautiful family. The birthday girl looks very happy. I just found you via Larger Families and can't wait to read more about your family.

  7. she's so sweet! happy birthday!

    When I turned 5, my grandparents drove 2 hours south to celebrate with us. It was just a family dinner at the house, and they gave me a necklace. The necklace was a gold chain, with a teddy bear. The bear's yellow t-shirt (yeah, the bear had on a shirt) read "I'm 5." I thought it was the most special gift ever. I felt so loved that they drove so far to be with me, and to give me something so precious that could make me feel so important as that bear necklace!

  8. Anonymous says:

    My favorite birthdays were those spent at my nana's cottage, she made me cocunut cake and even now when I have coconut things I think of that cake, my 30th is coming up and I am trying to find the recepie she used ,but so far my family doesn't know. At least I will always have the memory.


  9. Oh, Yeah! Having a June birthday is the greatest! We can see that your daughter had a full celebration with great style!
    Happy Birthday, Miss Purse Person!

    I just had my 50th on June 10th, but about the best one growing up.
    Hmm, I'll think on that awhile. I've written a couple birthday posts before, and they are in my Archives, but I might expand an idea.
    If we have until Monday eve, should be long enough.

  10. That looks like a very satisfied princess, there!

    A very happy birthday to a gorgeous girl!

  11. Happy birthday to your little girl.

    But as for birthday memories, is this supposed to be good memorable or does bad memorable count?

    The birthday I remember the most is my 14th. I woke up to no parents at home. Just my 12 year old brother and 10 year old sister. We spent most of the day wondering where our parents were.

    They were off getting a divorce started. Neither one remembered it was my birthday. Only my mom came home that night.

  12. Since my birthday is in August I usually had a swimming party for my birthday. I always wanted German chocolate chip cake. We always played the same games: drop the clothes-pins in the jar, balloon races and pin the tail on the donkey (I still have this game and used it at my daughters 7th birthday party.)

    But my most memorable party was the year my mom was desperaely ill and my brother had to run the shindig. He did a fine job, almost good enough to make me forgive him for all the bruises he inflicted on me over the years.

  13. I have decided I can't top the post I wrote last year about my favorite Birthday Memories.

    There are so many that I can't have a real and true favorite.

    I do remember my Number 38 being difficult. I had a dear friend and neighbor, both our birthdays in June, a crochet buddy, a lady for whom I did chauffeur duty after she couldn't pass the test for a driver's license.
    My sons thought of her as a Grandma, and since their own blood kin lived in different states, that was fine with everyone.

    She passed away in April of that year.
    In June, what would have been our celebration for a birthday number flip-flop—she would have been 83 and mine at 38—I went alone to lunch.
    She set a good example for how to grow old gracefully, and I would like to believe I can follow in her loving footsteps.

  14. When I turned 4, the whole neighborhood showed up for my very fun outdoor party.

    What made this party stand out was the new swingset sitting proudly in the middle of the backyard and most of all–THE CLOWN. There was a clown at my party and I LOVED him. I wanted him to carry me everywhere and I stayed in his arms for the entire party.

    I thought about that party and the very nice clown many times afterward. Years later, I was looking at pictures of me sitting in the clown's arms and I recognized the clown for the first time. I asked my mom, "Was that clown MY DAD???"

    "Of course, honey, didn't you know?"

    No, I hadn't known. But it made sense that I had felt so comfortable in his arms. And upon that revelation, I relived the wonderful day all over again.

    Great memory. Just writing about it makes me smile. 🙂

  15. How super fun and sweet…what a great momma you are!

  16. Hi Mary! Many blogs I read also read yours, so I had to come check you out.

    My most memorable birthday was my 22nd. I spent it in Thailand, where I was working as a missionary intern. It's customary in Thailand that the person whose birthday it is treats everyone else, instead of the other way around! I bought pizza for *many* Thai and American friends and we hung out at our Christian center had a blast! It was almost time for me to return to the states at the point, so the memory of that day is precious.

  17. My most memorable birthday was the year I turned 13. My parents let my brothers and sister (who were 20, 17 & 18 at the time.) and me take a vacation to Disneyland all by ourselves! What a terrific time. I was finally a teenager and I felt so grown up. We drove to the nearest big airport and flew from there to CA, where we took a taxi to our motel which was within walking distance to Disneyland. We stayed until the park closed that night and enjoyed the two days as well, including a night at the Ringling Bros. Circus (also within walking distance of our motel.) It meant a lot to me at 13 to be allowed to go alone with my siblings on a trip. And it was also a treasure that they let me come along with them. We flew home at the end of a long weekend. We had spent all our money and so had to search the seats of car for loose change for Moon Pies and Cokes on the drive home from the airport. 🙂 We were totally on our own and we had the best time! In fact, all these years later, we still talk about that vacation. Nobody but me remembers that it was my birthday. But I'll never foget.

  18. My thirteenth birthday approached with no word from my parents on a party, so I asked. Can I have a party? With dancing? And boys? They said, yes. I was the first of my friends to do so.

    My girlfriends came early and helped me primp. We were too young for makeup, but somebody sneaked some and we took turns applying bright blue to each other’s eyelids. Our bell bottoms hugged our hips and swished around our ankles. Smock tops, macramé belts, headbands and earth shoes. So hip, we thought.

    We waited downstairs as the boys arrived, alone, in groups. We cast side glances at each other and rolled our eyes as the guys refused to meet our gaze. With feigned indifference, we went through our records, 45’s and 33’s, Carole King and Jim Croce and Chicagoo. There were multiple copies of several. Everyone brought their own. We all liked the same stuff. Even the guys.

    And they crowded around the food, gangly and slumped, their own bell bottoms wrapped around track shoes. Wide white belts, tee-shirts, hair in their eyes just like us. So hip, they thought.

    Mom peeked in with a look that asked, “Having fun?” I scowled back with eyes that said, “Please don’t embarrass me.” She fiddled with the balloons and streamers, slinked our of sight, lurking about to occasionally peek in.

    At opposite sides of the battle fields we stood our ground. Squared off. Determined not to break the unseen ice or shatter the barrier between childhood and adolescence. The boys against the girls as it had always been. This time the rules had changed. No taunting allowed. No talking, no jeering, no eye contact. Them gurading the food, us guarding the record player. A true standoff, until…

    His name was Mario. He was ruthless at basketball. No mercy on the running track, either. If he ever noticed a difference existed between boys and girls, he never showed it. Indeed, he took advantage of our female weaknesses and rubbed our feelings in it for sport.

    “Dance?” cracked his voice.

    Suddenly, his buck teeth didn’t look odd, but added to his charm. Blue eyes gleamed against dark lashes and his shoulder-length mop of brown curls softened the angle of his jaw.

    So we danced as Elton John memorialized a Yellow Brick Road. And everybody else watched. But it was my birthday, so I endured the scrutiny I would recall as I shared the first dance with my groom over a decade later.

    He stepped on my toes and I stepped on his in grunted apology as we pretended my hands weren’t on his shoulders and his weren’t on my waist. We kept as much distance between us as our arms would allow and looked anywhere but at each other. Or our friends, staring in wide-eyed unease at our awkwardness, the Twister board crumpled to the side in pouting neglect.

    The next song was upbeat and it was a relief to step back. My friends started dancing, some with boys, some on their own or with each other. We initially tried to look cool, but were soon jumping around, acting silly, playing air guitar, singing at the tops of our lungs as Alice Cooper proclaimed school to be out for summer. The boys tried to be louder and to jump higher, still in competition, boys against girls, their invisible guitars extending from their arm pits to their knees, to judge by their strumming.

    For the rest of the evening, it was a silly-fest. The Bump and the Hustle absorbed energy faster than we could re-fuel with soft drinks. Made-up dances by the girls and a battle of the air bands by the boys henceforth kept us safe from the Slow-Dance Monster.

    And none of us noticed the shattered ice all around us. Nor did we realize the barrier we’d just crossed, the barrier woven with cooties and taunts, hair-pulling and pranks. The barrier erected with the tree house sign that posted, “No girls allowed,” Barbies vs. GI Joes, and our unspoken gender segregation rule on the school bus. We happily danced past that barrier, oblivious that it would change everything as we nudged our way out of childhood.

  19. Happy, Happy 4th Birthday!!!!!!!!!!!