All Aboard the Oreo Express!

Update:

Orient Express visit was fabulous.  Mostly because our chef/hibachi master was high as a kite.  He threw so much rice at us he needed another bowl.  But...fried rice and hibachi shrimp were had.  Cupcakes were consumed.  Candles we blown out.  A good time was had by all (especially our chef, who spoke Spanish as well.  Multicultural awesomeness).

Ready:

Set:

Wish!:

Yeah, she and Aunt Mamie are demons.  Woot Woot Oreo Express!  Now onto the magical world of the Harry Potter Pizza Party.


Six years ago today I was starving and cursing my husband and sister as they chowed down on McDonald's biscuits.  Apparently, the Labor and Delivery staff at Northside frown on people in active labor eating during the process.  Horrible rule.  The consequences could be dire.

That means, of course, that I have a six year old.  I do not know how this happened.  I, me, this one over here, the anti-crier, sobbed after kissing her goodnight.  Her last night of being five.  What is it about six?  It's like she went from being my little secret to being a citizen of the wide world.  My heart is about to burst from resigned sadness and ridiculous pride.  So, we celebrate!

This morning she got her first real big girl bike...doesn't even come with training wheels.

Tonight we will join up with the gang (us, Mamie, Mr. Brian and Miss Carrie) and be dazzled by the Hibachi chef at the Oreo Express (that's the Orient Express for those of you who don't speak Ellie).  But, it's not the Oreo Express anymore.  Because, as she told me this morning, six year olds know its not the Oreo Express.  That's what silly little kids say.  Sigh.