July 4th, 2014
This year I think has been the beginning of the end in terms of doing things together as a family.
I always knew my bigger kids would drift into their teenaged wastelands and leave some things behind...I just never imagined it would happen so fast...or all at once.
For every 4th of July as long as I can remember we have all done certain things together: RibFest, parade, festival, fireworks. It's become more or less a tradition.
Not anymore. The older boys much prefer the dark confines of their basement lair where they can spend the majority of their days (and nights) engaged in pretend warfare. Eliza on the other hand, cannot sit idle for more than an hour at a time. When she's not at gymnastics she's with one of her dozen friends. Trying to pry them away from their preferences is hard, and understandably, it's hard to entertain a "big" kid with "little" kid activities.
This year we made it to RibFest with my friend Katie and her three kids. Between us we divided and conquered the multitude of children running every which way. At one point I was charged with her 5-year-old son who chose that particular moment to have a series of mini breakdowns in the balloon animal line. Each time he would crumple to the ground like a marionette whose strings had suddenly been cut. After episode five or six, I faced the throng of sympathetic onlookers, shrugged and said, "He's not my kid." Ah...such relief in such few words!
A few fits aside, it was a gorgeous day for playing, petting animals (Kellan is still NOT a fan), body art, eating, and getting free stuff from the vendor tents!
A couple of days later was our local parade. The thing to do in our town is stake out space with lawn chairs or "CAUTION" tape up to three (!) days in advance along the route. I got up early Saturday morning with my mallet and stakes looking more like a vampire hunter than anything else, and secured a nice, ample spot in a great area for my brood. As it turned out, the older boys had zero interest in attending the parade and Eliza was headed to the local festival with friends which left me and the littles -- and an embarrassingly huge parcel of real estate to sit in. Thankfully, before the parade started I saw a friend's husband and two boys searching for a spot in line. I beckoned them over and invited them to fill in some of our empty space! It actually turned out great - he had somewhere to sit, we both had another adult to chat with, and Kellan and Riss had a candy gathering companion. Win win!
That evening I was ditched by the big kids again. The boys still had zero interest in celebrating our nation and Eliza had plans...you guessed it...with friends. No biggie....Kellan, Riss and I went to a friend's parent's house. They live right on the lake where the set off the fireworks so we had a front row seat to the show. It wasn't exactly the July 4th I was used to, or the one that I'd anticipated, but I guess you could say it still ended....with a bang.
I always knew my bigger kids would drift into their teenaged wastelands and leave some things behind...I just never imagined it would happen so fast...or all at once.
For every 4th of July as long as I can remember we have all done certain things together: RibFest, parade, festival, fireworks. It's become more or less a tradition.
Not anymore. The older boys much prefer the dark confines of their basement lair where they can spend the majority of their days (and nights) engaged in pretend warfare. Eliza on the other hand, cannot sit idle for more than an hour at a time. When she's not at gymnastics she's with one of her dozen friends. Trying to pry them away from their preferences is hard, and understandably, it's hard to entertain a "big" kid with "little" kid activities.
This year we made it to RibFest with my friend Katie and her three kids. Between us we divided and conquered the multitude of children running every which way. At one point I was charged with her 5-year-old son who chose that particular moment to have a series of mini breakdowns in the balloon animal line. Each time he would crumple to the ground like a marionette whose strings had suddenly been cut. After episode five or six, I faced the throng of sympathetic onlookers, shrugged and said, "He's not my kid." Ah...such relief in such few words!
A few fits aside, it was a gorgeous day for playing, petting animals (Kellan is still NOT a fan), body art, eating, and getting free stuff from the vendor tents!
A couple of days later was our local parade. The thing to do in our town is stake out space with lawn chairs or "CAUTION" tape up to three (!) days in advance along the route. I got up early Saturday morning with my mallet and stakes looking more like a vampire hunter than anything else, and secured a nice, ample spot in a great area for my brood. As it turned out, the older boys had zero interest in attending the parade and Eliza was headed to the local festival with friends which left me and the littles -- and an embarrassingly huge parcel of real estate to sit in. Thankfully, before the parade started I saw a friend's husband and two boys searching for a spot in line. I beckoned them over and invited them to fill in some of our empty space! It actually turned out great - he had somewhere to sit, we both had another adult to chat with, and Kellan and Riss had a candy gathering companion. Win win!
That evening I was ditched by the big kids again. The boys still had zero interest in celebrating our nation and Eliza had plans...you guessed it...with friends. No biggie....Kellan, Riss and I went to a friend's parent's house. They live right on the lake where the set off the fireworks so we had a front row seat to the show. It wasn't exactly the July 4th I was used to, or the one that I'd anticipated, but I guess you could say it still ended....with a bang.