Sunday, July 8, 2012

A Week in July

We had a really nice week around here, with the Fourth of July and a piano recital keeping us busy.
 The Fourth was hot, hot, unbearably hot.  It's so hard to break traditions though, so we headed out to our little hometown where they do the 4th of July up like no other day.  We started with the parade in the morning.  After multiple glitches, we weren't early enough to snag a coveted shady spot on the curb, so we settled in in the direct sun.  It was the hottest Fourth in recent history around here, and it only took me about 5 minutes to realize that there was no way I'd be sticking it out there.  I headed around the back of the dry cleaner's building that we were sitting in front of, and sat under the shade of their awning for the duration.
We came home to rest, but Mr. Smith decided to take an offer we had received from some earthly angels we know, for swimming in their in-ground pool.  He took the five older boys, and I stayed home with a napping Sebastian.  He thought they might swim for 1/2 hour, just to cool off.  They were gone over three hours.  These angels of ours take good care of us, and before they knew it there were hotdogs on the grill and cookies for all.  I savored my quiet time at home in the air conditioned comfort.
 I did manage to clean and prep some fruit and mini marshmallows for the boys to make fruit kabobs with when they got home.
 Always a hit.
We had crafted a bit the day before, so the house was festive.
 Then it was off to the fair.  The good thing about the heat was that there were no lines whatsoever for the rides, I don't think anyone could stand being there for very long.  The bad thing about the heat was, well, the heat.  It was really bad by that point in the day.  Again, I recognized my limits, and spent much of our time there sitting in the grass under a tent, drinking the best lemonade ever by the gallon.  It's a good thing Mr. Smith is so awesome.

 My mom and dad live near the park we were at.  All I had to do was make one phone call saying we were on our way, and minutes later we arrived to a feast.  She knew we'd be coming, but we weren't sure of the timing, so she had bought things like cold cuts, sub buns, salsa and chips, and cold desserts.  We feasted and rested for several hours over there, before heading out to the fireworks.  
It was a close call with rain, but they pulled them off, and it was a great show, as usual.  Sebastian was the only one not impressed.  He had fallen asleep and not quite come all the way to when they started.  We were quite close to ground zero and the "booms" terrified him.  He spent the entire 1/2 hour whimpering and clinging to his daddy.  Don't tell him I said this, but it was actually super cute.  He recovered, and to this day is telling us he likes the booms and the fireworks when we ask.
Overall, a really great day.


 After the Fourth, we had our sights set on today, when we hosted a piano recital for the three families that our teacher teaches.  When I said I'd host, my friend Colleen, one of the other moms, insisted that she would bring all food and drinks.  It was a win-win for me, I didn't have to deal with any food prep, and my house is sparkling clean.  One of the things she brought was this awesome set of piano keys.  It's frosted sugar cookies and brownies.  So clever.
 Owen and Peyton pulled off their duet beautifully, after months and months of giggling and/or fighting while practicing.  I managed not to get a shot of Blake at the piano, but I'm so very proud of him.  He played three songs, including Mozart's Rondo alla Turca, which he has been working on night and day for weeks.  He was the most advanced student at the recital today, and everyone appreciated his talent.  It was nice to see him in his moment to shine.
And once everything was quiet, we settled in for some down time.  I grabbed my knitting, and Blake grabbed my camera (his new hobby).  It's been a while since we've taken a picture of me, so I asked him to.  Apparently, this is what I look like at nearly 37 weeks.  Wow.  Sometimes lately Oliver will walk into a room that I'm in, almost running into me (he never stops moving and doesn't know the meaning of graceful, bless his heart), double-take at my belly, give it a quick rub, and simply say, "Whoa, your belly is huge", as if it just happened over night.  Yes, sweetheart, it is.

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