Happy 4th of July everyone!
We did the usual this year, meaning we went to see Daddy in the parade (ha!-please notice I'm a nice enough wife I didn't post the pictures I bragged about on Twitter.) that usually stars at least a few of his co-workers, if not all of them, followed much later by the "fireworkins" Mason has been so longingly asking for. Well, once it became obvious that no one was accompanying us this year and I got over feeling sorry for myself about it, we embarked. I don't know why it hit me so hard, considering I always knew Alan's job would mean stuff like this, but today I was a little nervous about going out alone with Mason and trying to keep him sufficiently entertained.
The parade was well-received by Mason, overall. He likes sirens, he wanted to go inside the Mobile Command Post and the Crime Scene Unit, and he eventually got the hang of waving back to the passersby. It should be noted he seemed to prefer waving to the beauty queen floats, which I found amusing. The first handful of candy that came at our early-arriving (no one die of shock, please!), front-row-sitting selves caused major tears as it bounced off his head and all around. Those tears were barely averted when the fire engine, bearing Alan's buddy/co-worker as engineer passed by. This is important because Alan had sweetly asked him to save a piece of candy for Mason thinking that no one but the fire dept. was allowed to throw candy this year. This was misinformation, as everyone had candyu and now the 4th of July stash closely resembles something I have yet to throw away from Easter. Anyhow, Jeff is a good shot, and although the throw wasn't hard, Mason waved and yelled "Thanks" as he started crying again after the taffy bounced off his chest.
Oh, and big thanks to the auxiliary group who handed out flags before the parade started. Mason loved them, and he loved to wave them. He misunderstood me when I told him what they were called, and as soon as we got home, he wanted to hold his "flaps" again. At random intervals, he would wave them and say they were "Blowin' in the wind!". He can be pretty adorable. However, this stopped when he poked himself in the eye with the stick. I wish I was kidding about that, but I guess now I can say the parade itself was more fun than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick with some literal meaning.
We had a bit of a meltdown after the parade. Mason wanted to go on a blow-up slide, but he didn't believe that was what I had put him on after our very looooong wait in line. By the time he stopped crying and asked nicely to try again, the line was even longer and he didn't believe I was going to let him go on it because we were so far away from the slide, leading to another fit. We went to the car for a respite from the heat and a drink of cold water, and he was like a new kid. We set out again, armed with our blanket, to seek a seat for fireworks. Alas, the wind was blowing and the concert was loud (I'm wondering if he's coming down with an ear infection because he was only happy snuggling in my lap with my hands over his ears). But as soon as the action started, he was all about the "Wow! That was a big one!" and the "Look at that! Lots of colors! Big booms!" The change in demeanor came right around the time Grandma came out, and we were both so grateful to see her!
Despite the difficulties we faced, and the much complaining put upon my husband during my frantic phone calls, Mason's reaction made it worth it. You can't tell from the picture (he was being so very solemn!), but he said he had fun and wanted to see more "fireworkins"; accordingly, we will be heading out in a few weeks for the local Pioneer Day celebrations, even if we have to brave the crowds and heat alone. We can make it, and we can have some fun, too.
I watched the guy driving this tell the passenger to "look how cute this little boy is!", the limit of my lip-reading ability, and felt happy.
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