All of the SURPRISE!

It occurs to me that my children are going to grow up to hate surprises.

It will be my fault.

If there is one thing I do well, it's overcompensate. All of those things that weren't the best when I was a kid are the things that I do to excess now. SURPRISE! I LOVE SURPRISES!

Everybody who was in a position to surprise me when I was a kid failed miserably. There were no surprise vacations, no surprise presents, just no surprises. I mean, I suppose there were, but they were more of the SURPRISE! The clothes that you picked out for back to school won't be coming home because we can't pay for them! Or SURPRISE! Your mom walked into the middle of the road during rush hour because depression is a terrible beast!

Those are not fun surprises. I like sparkly things MUCH better.

Now that I'm in charge of the surprises, I like to turn everything into a surprise. I tell Alexis that she's spending the night at a friend's house about ten minutes before we leave to drop her off. I forever refuse to tell her which friends will be joining us for fun because SURPRISE! I even keep trips out of town a complete surprise until there is no choice.

Case in point, Alexis didn't know we were going to Virginia Beach last summer until we were basically there.

Alexis has started to complain that she hates surprises. It's just this side of hilarious, in part because I realize it's not totally my fault. A lot of it is my fault, sure, but at the end of the day, she's the kind of person who wants spreadsheets that help her organize her spreadsheets. She's a planner is what I'm saying. Surprises and planners don't mix, so why not screw her up extra by throwing surprises at her all of the time?

It's fun.

For me.

I'm cooking up a new surprise at this very second. I'm headed to BlogHer next week and this time Alexis gets to go with me.

Just don't tell her. I'd rather wait until we're standing in New York.

A Very Good Ending to a Very Good Weekend

When Sunday rolled around and I realized we had no plans, I wasn't sure what to do. In theory, yard work should have been a priority, but since we seem to have picked Pittsburgh up and dropped it into the middle of a rain forest, there was so much mud. So very much mud.

I'm tired of playing in the mud.

So instead of trying to make a muddy dent in the never-ending weeding and mulching and such, I piled the girls in the car and drove. I know I have written these exact words before, but they are still true -- I always forget about Raccoon Creek State Park. Initially I started to head towards the zoo, but then Raccoon Creek came to mind, so I turned the car towards that place that really isn't that far away.

(Somebody please remind me to go there more often. I mean, seriously.)

It was a very perfect idea. Mila could play in some water, Alexis could tumble in the sand, and I could take photos of it all. There was only one problem.

I should have realized that too much rain is too much rain for a lot of things, but I didn't. Not thinking of it meant I drove up to the little beach and immediately knew we were in trouble. Alexis, however, was in the mood to find the sunny side in the situation, so she asked if we could just walk along the beach.

As Alexis told me how sometimes it's nice to just walk and enjoy a day together (seriously, that kid is smart and stuff), Mila held our hands and toddled between us. The entire time, Mila kept her eye on the water, talking to the little waves and trying to guide us in the correct direction. When I finally put her by the fence, she tried everything in her power to knock it over. Because water. Right there. RIGHT THERE, YOU GUYS.

It was the saddest thing ever.

To counter the sadness, we found our way to a little dock. The girls sat on the edge, but I wouldn't let them put their toes in the water because ZOMG SO MUCH RAIN WATER GROSS EWWWW. For reals. The water is too murky to know what lies below the surface. I figured I would just take a photo of them sitting there, feet out of the water.

But I will never be able to look at that photo without remembering what was really going on. Mila was all WATER! WATER! WATER! so Alexis literally had to pin her down.

Let's just pretend it was a sweet moment rather than the wrestling match that it really was, complete with yelling and screaming and HOOBOY was Mila mad.

I really need to remember that Raccoon Creek State Park is a thing, preferably when it hasn't been raining quite so much.

Yay! BOOM!

The 4th of July has always ranked high on my list of Best Holidays. Earlier in life, it was high on my list because it was a good holiday to volunteer to work. Hardly any humans wandered into the department store where I worked, we closed early, and work in no way interfered with the fun. So, holiday pay! Without sacrifice!

Later I learned to love the holiday because, well, HOLIDAY. Any day that is not spent at work while you are getting paid is a good day, you know? Plus, it's a day spent eating all of the foods and looking at sparkly things that go BOOM.

It's probably no surprise that I think fireworks are the bestest.

I should probably clarify that statement, though. I think fireworks that go boom on the 4th of July are the bestest. Fireworks that go boom on the 5th? Blurgh. Fireworks that go boom on the 3rd? Well, I don't like them very much.

Fortunately, we live in a fantastic neighborhood so nearly all of the booms came on the 4th. They were spectacular, gorgeous, phenomenal booms. They were the sort of booms that shake the windows, send the dogs into hiding, and wake the babies.

Which was fantastic.

Miss Mila wore herself out floating from person-to-person all through our 4th of July get-together, so it was no surprise when she fell asleep a bit early. I briefly considered fighting the battle to get her to sleep in her crib, but then came to my senses. There is exactly one thing that should happen on the 4th, and that's BOOM.

I knew she'd wake up when the fireworks started.

And I'm so glad she did.

With a nice little nap under her belt, Mila was ready to whip her head to-and-fro as fireworks went off all around. She gleefully observed the big kids as they twirled sparklers. She ooohed and aaahed over the sparks from the ground fireworks. She even stared big-eyed at the giant rockets in the sky. It only took her a few practice rounds to figure out the whistle sound that tells you a loud boom is coming, so she quickly knew when to lean in and protect her ears.

Not a single tear was shed. Just smiles and awe.

Which ... ummmm ... I think Alexis was 7? Maybe 8? Definitely MUCH older before she learned to appreciate fireworks. It was only very recently that she was able to enjoy them without bawling her eyes out and making me question my devotion to things that go BOOM.

But now I have two girls who love fireworks.

Thank goodness I also have lots of neighbors who love fireworks so I can continue to trade cupcakes for a good show.