Jill's Journal: Our sweet Erika turned eight today and she had one birthday wish: she wanted to be a cowgirl (and dress like one too). Erika is normally our dainty dress-wearer who would wear dresses 365 days a year if given the chance. She usually looks forward to the prospect of a new birthday dress for months in advance, so she surprised the heck out of us by asking for a cowgirl outfit instead. To prepare, a few weeks ago she very carefully picked out Wranglers (because that’s what the cowboys wear), boots, a belt, a hat, a western shirt, and a bandana (she insisted she needed a bandana!). She tried very hard to talk us into spurs and a lasso also, but we have our limits.
And so, decked out in her new duds, we embarked on what she later declared the “best birthday ever.” Rob and I needed our annual birthday pictures, so she patiently indulged us because she knew what afternoon fun was in store.
While waiting for our pictures to print, the girls enjoyed an escalator. Are our kids the only ones enamored with these things?
They get such an inexplicable kick out of riding them.
On the plus side, escalators are far cheaper entertainment than a carousel, which we also indulged in today because a birthday only comes around once a year.
After lunch, it was off to the Los Angeles Equestrian Center.
Erika was introduced to Henry, her trusty steed for the afternoon.
See the smile on this freshly-minted 8-year-old’s face? She was in H.E.A.V.E.N. Absolute heaven.
Erika and I took an hour-long trail ride in L.A.’s famed Griffith Park. This is one of the entrances to the beautiful park.
This was Erika’s first time riding alone, without someone leading her, and she felt so grown-up and proud of herself, which is exactly how one should feel on an eighth birthday. I think it’s safe to say she loved every single moment. I know I loved watching it.
We practically had to tear the poor child away from Henry at the end of the day. She did not want to leave. She
needs a pony. If only one would fit on the fifth wheel. Erika wouldn’t tell, of course, but I suspect a pony is exactly what she wished for when she blew out her birthday candles after dinner.
Happy Birthday to our most favorite 8-year-old, cowgirl or not, in the whole, wide world.
