This 4th of July was probably one of the best of my life. For sure because we had a rare day of family time, but also because I hate loud noises and pushy crowds and having a kid who goes to bed before dusk makes a pretty good excuse to forego the fireworks mishegas. I was just as happy to exercise my freedom to retire to the couch with my husband, an ice-cold tallboy and Showtime On Demand. I love you America, but the blowing things up part, not so much. If my boy wants to see the fireworks when he gets older, I'll go along (I don't want to predispose him up to be afraid of anything) but I'd never pressure him. Growing up it seemed to me that there wasn't much sympathy for kids who didn't want to go to the 4th of July display, like it was encouraging bad character if you let your child skip the festivities. For some reason my similarly sensitive brother and I were chided by adults every year, like maybe they were saying we were not patriotic? More likely, that it was silly to be afraid and we should face our fears. But screw that. I don't know why anyone else would have cared to begin with, but I'm grateful to my parents that they never made us go. I don't see the point of standing around being miserable when it's supposed to be a celebration.
That said, we celebrated by getting out and enjoying the beautiful weather and the virtually empty cities of Cambridge and Somerville. It was like a ghost town all weekend, which is a neat novelty. We got a late lunch and sat in the park and people watched. HR is so much fun lately. You know I have loved him as fiercely as a person can love from the second I saw his little heartbeat, but the liking of him didn't come right away. That sounds terrible even to other people who have kids, I suppose, but I think there are parents who understand what I mean. For what seems like such a long time in the beginning they're just your babies and you're learning about each other and worrying and attending to basic needs. Then one day they sprout these personalities and you start being excited to just hang out together. HR is such a funny little chap. He's a cuddlebug, so loving and sweet and happy. He's also a total diva in some ways. We sat on the grass in the park yesterday and even with a blanket down he was like, "SCREE! HOT LAVA!" He could not have climbed up my body fast enough to avoid the green earth. Oh, my city kid.
Watching him grow and learn at a lightning pace is a gift, and it is blowing my mind. We're pretty sure he's been saying "turtle" which, as a first word, strikes me as hilarious. And his hair is a mop to be reckoned with. My new-ish camera throws out some mean red lights that makes him frown so I can never get the perfect picture of his bedhead and heart-obliterating smile, but just know I wake up to that every day and suddenly being conscious at 5:15 is forgivable. That's my idea of a light show.
Summer's really rolling now. Happy, happy y'all.
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