Last year I was 6 weeks pregnant and sick-o-delic when the fourth came around. We did celebrate, but not in the fashion I was accustomed to. Remembering my laments of a summer lost due to my inattentiveness, I made an extra effort this year.
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Being as the actual 4th fell on a Sunday, we chose to celebrate on the 3rd. I generally have an adverse reaction to "crafts". As a joke on my wedding one of my bridesmaids gave me a glue gun, because I had sworn I would never use one (alas, I have been through 3 now. I mean, who can make a mission or fix toys without one, I ask you?). But we knocked ourselves out making freezer-paper stenciled t-shirts this time around (glue gun not required, but I will admit to using puffy paint and... (choke) sequins!). The results were not too shabby, if I may say so. I cranked out a patriotic, minimal-effort-confection of angel food cake and berries, and threw on my only red shirt. We looked very star-spangled, indeed.
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We (and by we, I mean Guy) made food and schlepped our way over to our friends', the Slaughters, for fireworks. We ate far too much and then parked ourselves on the lawn for the light show. Guy and I sat in the warm evening breeze and reminisced about our first fireworks show together when we were dating, and joked that our second had been our honeymoon. As I watched Tessa enjoying the light display, I remembered that last year at that time she had just chopped off her hair. Now with her tresses cascading to her shoulders I can see what a difference a year makes.
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The kids have enjoyed a year in a new school, and I have seen amazing progress in each of them. The fears and uncertainty of a new school community have given way to new friends and familiar routines. Guy was about to begin yet another dreary year of evening and Saturday classes, yet here we sit hand-in-hand in our lawn chairs at the end of it, Guy with his credential completed. A year ago the future would hold the heartache of another lost baby, fertility testing and a thousand prayers for guidance and direction. The baby that now hiccups as I type, bumping the laptop that these days barely fits on what's left of my lap, warms my heart like the coming of summer has warmed the evening air.
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What a joyful shift in our lives this year has brought.
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The Chinese celebrate the new year with fireworks. They and other cultures celebrate the spring as the true beginning of the new year.
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I pick summer.
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Happy (New Year) Fourth of July!
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("Now I will look skinny!" Joanna states as she hides behind my ginormous belly. I have to admit, next to that melon she looks a size 2!) 
1 comment:
Your so sweet! I wish I was a size 2! Or at least a size 8! as it is not going to hapen soon because at 10:30 I ate my last piece of lemon bday cake. I have to admit it was delish!
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