Sometimes the days blur together and I forget what is coming up. For some reason since my husband has been working on the 4th of July it does not hold the same meaning to me. No more days spent at the park in the heat, waiting for some crazy boogie music and fireworks. No more naps under the big tress nursing babies and smelling BBQ. There are no more blue stained faces from character ice cream. No more screaming kids in the park and making random one day friends.
I know I sound upset about it, maybe in some way I am. Maybe part of me wants to take our kids to see fireworks at different places. Growing up I saw them locally at the park, or across the tracks at the baseball tournament was ending. I saw them at Angel Stadium, in Palm Springs, at the beach and over a lake. My kids have seen them mostly hanging over the fence from our old apartment and now sitting on the roof of the van. Living in the barrio has allowed up to see Mexican fireworks up close from our front yard. But, I feel I am not giving the kids the experience they deserve. If this was twitter it would be #unschoolingmomfail.
Part of me thinks maybe I should take them by myself. But, they would just cry for their daddy. Yes, he does volunteer for the day. This year it will fund our once a year unBirthday party. But, I think we could have done that anyhow.
Maybe next year I will just wake up early and head out to the beach with the kids. We can pack a couple coolers with drinks and food.
Love and SnoCones
Button
Comments