Our new cute, little town was planning on holding it's cute, little Fourth of July Parade and Celebration on the Thirtieth of June. I'm not sure why. Regardless, it was cancelled when the Derecho of the Century blew through (and into a million pieces) our cute, little town. With no power, 100+ degree temperatures, and a cranky baby (me), we hit the road to my parents' house where we, along with my sister and her family, enjoyed an impromptu family reunion. For three and a half days, we depended on others for cool air, a fridge and freezer to salvage some of our perishables, and entertainment for these three little rascals.
But today...today we celebrated our Independence.
Our power is back on. Still no parade or fireworks, though. So we celebrated the Fourth at our pedestrian mall, where we explored our new-to-us children's museum....
...and then we had hot dogs at a little (air-conditioned) greasy spoon, where the owner and I bonded over being dairy-free, and THIS little girl flirted with everyone who walked by....
The boys fell asleep on the way home, so afternoon naps were out. Instead, Sam planned on taking the boys to the pool while Molly napped and I celebrated a little more Independence. Instead, the boys got suited up, lathered up, and about-to-dip-their-toes-in when the first clap of thunder closed the pool and sent them back home. Where Molly wasn't sleeping anyway.
So, rather than enjoying some Independent Mommy Time, we ate watermelon on our front porch while the rain poured. How much more Fourth of July-ish can you get? It was, like, the epitome of Summertime. But then the storm picked up and we headed inside to watch the hail (and our mulch wash away).
Miraculously, the storm passed just in time for Sam to grill some hamburgers as the icing on our Independence Day cake.
Until we tried to take a walk around our neighborhood after dinner. We were a block away when the boys got into an ear-piercing, head-splitting, window-shattering debate over who was more tired and thus who more deserved to be carried by Sam on the way home. Yup. So, naturally, we said (and not at all through clenched teeth....), "Since you're both SOOOO tired, you're going right to bed when we get home." To which they responded, of COURSE, "BUT I'M NOT TIRED!!"
I recently read somewhere that it's less offensive to accuse an innocent person of murder than to call a whiny child "tired." I believe it.
And so, after a loud, highly truncated Bedtime Routine, the not-tired boys are asleep, Molly is asleep (again and for now), the beers have been opened, and the sound of (probably illegal) fireworks can be heard in the distance.
Happy Fourth of July. And hooray for electricity....and for having a place to go when ours fails....and for (hopefully) remembering to buy a generator once we can find one again on the east coast.