Independence Day 2018

For Independence Day, the children decorated their bikes with sparkly things I brought home from Wal-Mart and we walked the neighborhood parade.

For about twelve seconds, I was proud of myself for making time to decorate this year, by which I mean that I stuck five pinwheels in the ground, and let the kids draw American flags, which I taped into the front window. (Can I put these great ideas on Pinterest?) But then I noticed that I hadn't even bothered to snip the big, flapping price tags off the pinwheels, so my feeling proud dissipated. (But later when I was at a girlfriend's successful Independence Day party, I noticed she had bought the same pinwheels, used them all over her home, and also hadn't bothered to snip off the tags. Solidarity, sister.)

Now, Thomas (three this month) is obsessed with the show "Fireman Sam," and all things firetrucks. He plays make believe Fireman Sam numerous times daily, rescuing Norman Price from falling off a cliff or Penny from an explosion. So, I thought he'd be really excited to see the firetruck and real firemen.

The reality was that he was awed into silence and big, dark eyes. He didn't say a word, even when I took him to meet the firemen. He could have gone inside the truck to tour it but, each time I tried, he clung to me tighter than ever.

Thomas started panicking and crying when I sat him on the firetruck for a picture, and the smile below was his first for the whole event.

But he really did love it, and later talked on an on about it.

After making a meal for a postpartum friend, I loaded up the gang and we went to an Independence Day potluck party with 21 children present, 20 of whom were 12 or younger.

The noise and tension became too much for Thomas, so we headed indoors, and were soon joined by all the toddlers. It was pretty cute how two of the grandmothers and I were running the Indoor Quiet Play Area while all the bigger explosions were going on outdoors.

Hiding in Mama's skirt and covering his ears

The drive home was actually quite festive, as we drove straight through numerous professional fireworks displays and the girls (of their own accord) enthusiastically sang our national anthem for 45 minutes.

Note to my next-year self: Really, don't plan anything else for Independence Day and the day after. Don't sign up that day to take a meal to a postpartum mom, and cancel your sewing class the next morning that requires all the kids to be up and out by 8:15 a.m. when they can barely open their eyes. I know you're thinking about it. Just don't.