This and that

We spent 4th of July with my parents. Some friends of theirs live right on the edge of the park where my hometown does their fireworks, and they always have a big party with lots of kids. We were crazy enough to let both kids stay up to see the fireworks -- Z went to sleep around 10pm and B not until after 11 -- but we didn't pay too high a price for that, believe it or not!

Most of the kids there were older, and B was determined to get their attention. He very earnestly demanded that they watch him do all sorts of crazy tricks, and that they go into a dark room in the house to see how his glow sticks worked. They all did a pretty good job of humoring him, and it was funny to watch.

B had seen fireworks before, but not since he was 2, and I'm pretty sure he didn't remember that experience. He's pretty sensitive to noise, so I gave him some earplugs. He put them in before we walked over to the park, because all the little backyard firecrackers were making him jump. When the big show started, he immediately backed up about four feet into someone's lap -- he thought they were going to get him! But he relaxed after that & really seemed to enjoy the show. Z watched about a third of the fireworks, then entertained herself by demanding that my mom, her friend and I repeatedly pass her back and forth among us.

On Saturday morning, my saintly parents agreed to feed the kids breakfast and take them swimming so M & I could go out to breakfast by ourselves. It was delightful. We had a scrumptious cajun breakfast and scoped out some neighborhoods in the town we'd like to move to. Most importantly, we had a leisurely adult conversation without any interruptions.

M found a quarter and gave it to B just before we left for home on Saturday. Half an hour later, as we were driving home, B asked me "Mommy, do you know where I put my money?" I offered the logical guess: in his pocket. "Nope! It's in my underwear!" Why? I have no idea. But I'm not borrowing change from B any time soon.

I have learned that both of my kids can open a child-proof medicine bottle more quickly than I can. I'm not sure whether this says more about their marvelous dexterity and intelligence, or my total lack of coordination.

B informed me last night that he has 14 fingers. He even counted them for me to demonstrate. He still says 11, 12, 14, 16, 11-teen, 20 when he counts in a hurry, but when he takes his time, he gets it right and can count up past 200 now before he loses track.

I am a woman on a mission. I've heard that Barack Obama's acceptance speech has been moved to a venue that will hold more than 75,000 people, and tickets are going to be given to lots of Colorado citizens. Did you know that he'll give this speech on the 45th anniversary of Martin Luther King, Jr.'s "I have a dream" speech? It gives me goosebumps just to think about it. I want to be there! And I am on a mission to somehow obtain two tickets.

There you have it -- my brain-dump for the day. I warned you with the title that this post would have no coherent theme!