Independence Day 2015

The wee hours of Independence Day made me feel nearly certain that this would be "independence day" for wee Baby Lauer . . . but, no, it was not to be. Everything fizzled out, as is classic for mothers who have had four, five, or more babies. Prodromal labor is extremely frustrating, can go on for a week or two (or three!). (This is a great explanation of prodromal labor--which is not Braxton-Hicks, not "false," it just doesn't produce a baby at this time. It is going through "real labor" for short spurts over and over again for weeks!)

After my getting only two hours of sleep the prior night, Chris gave me peace and quiet and gave the kids a fantastically fun day by taking the children to the Fourth of July celebration at Birkdale Village (a fancy-dancy outdoor mall meant to look like Main Street).

I actually managed to cook dinner that night--a rare feat in the last weeks--giving me a short change of pace from lying in bed trying by sheer power of will to reduce my blood pressure. I served hot dogs, chicken nuggets, homemade mac and cheese, and watermelon. For dessert, I had purchased a pound cake which I planned to top with Cool Whip, strawberries, and blueberries. But Chris purchased more enticing red, white, and blue cupcakes, so I let the kids eat those while I ate my dessert after they left for the night. Yum!

After dinner, the children set off "grocery store fireworks" in the back yard.

Then Chris loaded them up for taking the children to their first municipal fireworks. The plan was for Chris to keep the four kids in the car for a "car party," rather than try to maneuver them on foot by himself through big crowds at night. Also, that would allow him a nearly instant departure if I called him from home in real labor (which, I have realized, is probably .never going to be happen).

Somehow we thought fireworks would start around 9:00, maybe end by 9:30, kids home by 10:00. I'm not much for letting them stay out late (for a reason to be explained below), but I was willing to stretch that far for once. Instead, the fireworks ended at 10;45 and it took forty-five minutes for Chris' car to make it from the roof of the parking garage which had been their good vantage point out of the garage itself, and then they faced the drive home. The tots were not in bed until nearly midnight . . . and because three-quarters of them have my constitution instead of my husband's family's constitution, they were all awake at six o'clock anyway. (Today they are going to be wretched beasties.)

Chris came away from the experience with a list of "Lessons Learned" to make next year a better experience (one of those being to leave any kids under six at home with Mama).

Mary (6) drew me a picture of the fireworks since I couldn't be there.