The picture I took of Little L last 4th of July sits on my desk at work. I can’t get enough of her blue eyes and the hint of baby that still framed her little face. This year I tried to snap a similar shot and failed miserably. I got the eyes, but the baby was all wiped from her frame. (Unlike the chocolate which was everywhere.)
That was the only sad note all evening. The girls and I had a blast dancing to the big band featured by the country club where my in laws invited us to celebrate the holiday. The music was awesome and we danced and sang until it was time to head home.That is, when we weren’t posing with our balloons.
My plan was to let M and his old college roommate go watch the fireworks while I tucked the girls into bed. Instead I let M talk me into taking the girls to their very first fireworks display.
I was concerned about the whole late hour aspect of the event, but C, in all her 5-year-old wisdom, came up with the perfect solution – pajamas and brushed teeth before going to find the fireworks. We dashed home and changed everyone then dashed back out pajama clad and loveys in hand arms.
An hour later, after much hunting for a parking space and finally abandoning the car in a no-parking zone, we made our way through the throngs of people waiting to watch the fireworks. Every time a firecracker popped Little L squealed “I saw one! I saw one!”
We finally found a spot that was deemed acceptable by everyone (Read: I said, enough is enough, we’re sitting here.) and we spread our blanket out and waited. And waited. And waited. Luckily we spotted a few isolated fireworks in the far distance and I got to watch Little L’s eyes light up in utter amazement.
By the time the real show started I realized I had been overly hasty in my spot choosing. Everyone around me had a great view, for me all the fireworks were exploding behind a leafy tree branch. It didn’t really matter though, the real show was taking place in my lap and next to me.
C, to my left, kept murmuring “This is so awesome I can’t even close my ears!” and Little L, on my lap, was gazing upwards, jaw dropped, my hands clasped tightly to her ears.
Halfway through the show Little L decided she had had enough and turned away from the lights and the noise. She buried herself in my neck, cuddling her lovey hard. I don’t know if she found the fireworks overwhelming or if she was just tired after a very long weekend. All I know is that, in that moment, holding her tightly to my chest, I recognized the baby I couldn’t find in my viewfinder at the start of the evening.