I am the mother of a 17-year-old daughter. It's still blowing my mind. My beautiful Pumpkin-Pie-O turned 17 on Nov. 26th. 17. My baby girl is 17. 17.
So... Joycie's nickname, that is, my nickname for her, is Pumpkin-Pie-O because she was born the day after Thanksgiving, and up until then, my most favorite thing about Thanksgiving was pumpkin pie. Now, it's her, my Pumpkin-Pie-O. When she was little, she loved me calling her Pumpkin-Pie-O, sometimes shortened to Pumpkin-Pie, then later, Pumpkin. Sammy has even called her Pumpkin (it's so dang cute). When she was little, she also loved to hear the story of how she got her nickname.
Joycie had her birthday party sleepover with 5 girlfriends on Saturday, and they all seemed to have a blast. Joycie was happy (except for the part when I called her Pumpkin-Pie-O and her girlfriends laughed, so I cheerfully told them the story... Joycie groaned, although, I think she was secretly tickled). We had Chinese takeout, birthday cake, made memory wire bracelets, then the girls played board games downstairs, watched DVD's, got the beads and made more bracelets downstairs, slept late, had breakfast together (scrambled eggs and Pillsbury crescent rolls, Joycie's favorite... she ate 5 or 6 of 'em!), and then they did even more beading! It was like a party for 13-year-olds... I think all the girls are realizing they're getting older and before long, sleepovers will be a thing of the past, of their childhood. **sigh**
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