OK, I think we’ve officially started a new family tradition: the 4th of July cake.
This was Ethan’s idea. And once again, he was the chief engineer and sprinkle master…
Henry got involved too…
The proud cake maker…
We have another kid, but I can’t remember where she was at this point. Sleeping, I hope.
Other tidbits from the holiday weekend:
- Went to Ethan’s first fireworks show. It was kind of last minute, and he was a little scared when it first started: “Are they going to shoot us?” he asked when the first one went up.
- Ethan kept referring to the 4th of July as American. As in: “Hey Ethan, do you know what today is?” And Ethan would say: “American!”
- Babies, especially Celia, still sick and fussy. Sleep. Must. Have. Sleep.
- No major four-year-old meltdowns (MDs, we call them).
- Heard X’s “4th of July” on the radio.
- Read half of a Paul Auster essay (“Why I Write”). I’ll probably read the other half in about six months.
- Actually started on a new story yesterday — I’m still not sure how this happened.
- While driving today Ethan told me: “I’m going to never call names and never throw up.” Also, on the way out the door he asked me: “Daddy, why are you so really old?” When we got to our destination, I jotted down these lines in a notebook (I have to do that; otherwise I’d forget all the gems that come out of his mouth). He asked if he could write in my notebook, too. So I said yes and he diligently scribbled a few lines of impressionistic four-year-old prose.