the 7a.m. smiley wake-ups, 
which are mine alone to enjoy with #5.
Last Monday we met at a beach and, after playing for a while, Lauren and Emily went to Portland with them, and we brought Aaron (12) and Sarah (5) home with us for the rest of the week. It was a fun swap.
While those in Portland were going to movies, bowling, and swimming, I did my best to wear out the kids in my care. We walked to the library and back (I'm pretty sure it's uphill, both ways) one day, and went to the berry fields the next. Sounds like tons of fun, right?! (Actually, I honestly enjoy picking berries. When we went to Portland Friday and Saturday, to see Elise get baptized and swap the kids back, I spent some enjoyable time alone picking more strawberries and blueberries in their backyard garden, and eating them, too. Delish!) Thank goodness for Uncle Doug, who played with the kids at the park and took Aaron and Katelyn fishing Friday morning.
The kids helped a little bit, but mostly I encouraged them to watch lots of t.v. while I got my work done. Yep, those are the kind of parenting techniques I studied in college, earning my degree in Human Development. ;)
Can you see the elaborate red, white, and blue decorations we applied to their bikes? Pretty fancy!
Yessiree, our pesky neighbors have been busy, too. We have four new little ones. I have to admit that I think they're cute at this size, but they are still more pesky than adorable.
I tried to keep my anxiety under control in this situation. I'm not a huge fan of non-professional firework shows. Katelyn takes after me--she was happy to stay inside the house with the sleeping baby.
Yes, it's true, the one on the right has been sleeping well lately: 8 hour stretches, three of the last four nights. Just when I thought she couldn't get any more perfect...
Our family is back together! As much as the girls enjoy their dinner nights, they love baking cookies even better! Emily did this without any help yesterday, and I was so impressed with how beautiful her cookies turned out to be.
7/4/2000 Watching the parade in Provo.
I come from a line (I'm not sure how long, though) of "parade people" - the kind who watch parades, mostly. In Utah, where my parents grew up and where we spent lots of time vacationing during the summers of my childhood, they put on some great parades. Plenty of action, and plenty of candy-throwing. It's always very festive. In Pennsylvania, we discovered, their parades are much more solemn events. I'll never forget the Independence Day parade in Lititz, Pa., back in 1995. Doug and I were engaged, and visiting my family. My mom's brother (a huge adventurer) and his family were also visiting. The bunch of us went to the town parade. There were people watching, and the parade was going by, but it was strangely quiet on those streets. Weird. I would have called it more of a "funeral procession" than a "parade". We did our best to lighten the mood, with some cheering and clapping and waving of the arms. And then, cousin Isaac hit the grand slam. Some city official was riding the parade in the back of a convertible with a sign with his name and title on the side of it. As he drove by and other parade-watchers stared him down, Isaac yelled out in his booming voice, "Joe Schmoe (or whatever his name really was), YOU 'DA MAN!" Oh boy, that was pretty funny! See, we know how to have a good time!
But also, we do like to be in the parade sometimes. Like once when I was a kid and my dad belonged to a club of people who liked to restore old Model-A's, and there was a St. Patrick's Day parade in our community (it's not every town that has a St. Paddy's Day parade, but this town was called Dublin), and my dad's club was invited to participate in the parade. I was the lucky kid who got to ride in the car in the parade with my dad. (It's because I'm his favorite, but don't tell my brother and sisters...) Mom and the other kids were supposed to come later and sit somewhere along the parade route to cheer and watch, but guess what--they never came. Maybe it was because they were miffed that they didn't get to ride in the parade, or maybe it was because it was POURING DOWN RAIN. Literally pouring. That day I learned the true meaning of the phrase, "soaked to the bone". My dad's car was not fully restored. It was a work in progress. And one thing that was not yet restored was the roof of the car. It was just chicken wire. Plus, the windows were either rolled down, or not quite restored, either. And that rain came in from every possible angle. We took our umbrellas and poked them through the chicken wire roof, then opened them to protect ourselves. I'm not sure it helped. But Dad and I had the most fun! We smiled big smiles when a newspaper reporter took our picture (and then didn't use it in his paper). We waved at the poor crowds of people who were die-hard parade watchers, and Dad honked the old "Arr-UUU-ga" horn. We laughed at the silly sight of ourselves. And when the parade route ended, we got ourselves some hot chocolate, and we got flowers to take home to my mom and cookies for the siblings, just to show that we forgave them for being pansies, and not wanting to sit in the rain. (just teasing! I really love you guys!) And then my mom made us strip out of our soaking wet clothes in the garage, before we came in the house, we were that wet.
Well, even though we live in a very rainy place these days, my kids have been in parades themselves, and never been rained on. Every year they're in a 4thofJuly parade in our very own neighborhood. It started by accident a few years ago, when my girls and the neighbor kids decorated their bikes, and instigated their own parade. They went around knocking on neighbors' doors and inviting them to come see their parade, and so several kind adults (plus we, the parents) stood around the block and cheered as our little kids rode their bikes around the block over and over, having races with each other to lead the parade. It was so cute, it became a tradition. Now we have an official July 4th neighborhood gathering, and bike parade. I can't wait. I think it's my favorite kind of parade there is. And that's coming from someone who enjoys a parade.
