One of the gifts given to H for her 9th birthday was a gift card from her paternal grandparents to go to Build-A-Bear workshop. Each of our other girls has at least one of these self-created furry friends and nobody wanted H (or her ever growing stuffed animal collection) to feel left out.
So on a recent day off from school, the six kids and I picked up Grandma and headed for the mall.
*H had never been to a mall before (at least not one in America) and to say the least she was just thrilled with the entire concept. After the stop at BABW we raced upstairs to Libby Lu to let her and B get sprinkled with pixie dust. As we jogged past the fountain crowded with toddlers raising a chubby arm to drop a coin in, she stopped and looked around. The bright colors, the bustle of the markets, the open air kiosks, Starbucks right beside wafting the scents of freshly brewed coffee, people laughing, she turned to me and said, "You and Dad coming here?" "Not too much," I answered. "Why?" she asked me with a very puzzled look on her face. I tried to enlighten her to what seems to be a universal (or at least in our family) mall truth, "Well...Dad doesn't really like the mall." She clucked her tongue as she shook her head and said, "Dad no like? Oh no. This place, I think, is very, very, very fun." Poor Dad. I guess he doesn't know what he's missing.*
We also managed to fit in a ride on the carousel, another first that was extremely well received, and then headed back home. Once there, H decided that since she now had her own "child" (she has the BABW birth certificate to prove it!) and that very day was the day her "child" was "born" that she wanted to give her a special birthday party just like she herself had a few days prior. She and her sisters set to work, creating a cake out of a tower of blocks, inviting all of their friends and even getting their own party bags from H's party to use the remaining candy as party favors. It was quite an affair. I only wish I'd been invited.