Writing

Better Late Than Never

I've put serious consideration toward the idea of changing the name of this blog to "Better Late than Never".   I have a knack for storing up a months worth of pictures and happenings and unloading them in one cumbersome long-winded post.  At least I stick with what I'm good at.

Average, that was the summer forecast I heard the local weatherman deliver back in May.   He predicted that we could expect average rainfall and temperatures, and yet my garden is thirsty and the thermometer has been playing around in the nineties.  Average?  Not so much.  And the trend is holding true for summer adventures.  Seems like nothing yet this summer has been average.  June held nothing back, it delivered memorable adventures one after another.  Moments that made such an impact on Milani that she rehashed the details repeatedly during the days following.
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Competing for Gold
We kicked off the Olympics early at a party celebrating Jadon and Landry's birthdays.  We caught up with friends and family at our favorite Dalton party spot while children swung like monkeys on the playground, and the smell of sizzling burgers and dogs wafted off the grill.  The kids competed in relay races, passing the Olympic torch, balancing eggs on spoons, and perching beanbags on their heads to the cheers of the spectators.  Milani gave the races a fair go until she decided that darting around the party wielding the Olympic torch was more exciting.  Everyone crossed the finish line winners and proudly sported their shiny golden medals.

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Side by side, so much a like and so very close, two brothers blew out candles and opened presents, graciously sharing equally the glory and excitement of their joint celebration.
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Coolin' it Poolside 
On the days when the humidity feels like (as Jon puts it) getting smacked in the face with a hot wet rag, we've been scoping out the different public pools.  Grandma Andrea and I schlep picnic baskets, and quilts, and water bottles, and towels, and diapers, and toys, and strollers all from the trunk of my car to a shady spot near the shallow end where we slather on the SPF 50 and perch wide brimmed hats on little heads.  And I don't have a single picture of dripping pigtails or doggy paddles because I've been on the receiving end of cannon balls and coaching the kicking and paddling.

As I was swinging Milani around in the water watching water shining droplets radiating from her feet like little crystals and a grin eclipsing her entire face the thought crossed my mind "I wish my eyes were a camera".  At the time I meant it literally, thinking what a great shot it would be with a cool perspective and her unabashed glee.  Then all of a sudden the thought seemed so obviously stupid.  Sure my eyes don't capture moments in pixels on memory cards I can stick into my laptop and upload to Facebook, instead they capture moments that are stored away in my heart, seared forever into my memory, especially when I take the care to be present and the time to notice, really really notice, the details and the beauty and the happiness begging to be acknowledged and remembered.
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Full of Hot Air
After one of our pool days at Lackawanna State Park we were unwinding on the playground, getting ready to pack it in and call it a day, when we heard the blast from the torch of a hot air balloon at the top of the hill.  We slung kids on hips and wheeled the stroller over uneven grass to the clearing where a crew was unpacking two hot air balloons.  We kept encouraging Milani that we were going to watch big balloons fly into the sky, but she kept giving us the side eye that suggested she thought we were crazy for mistaking a couple of big fire breathing baskets and a field full of colorful fabric for balloons.

We waited patiently while the crew slowly went through their drill, tugging on fabric and smoothing out wrinkles.  Both girls were mesmerized, staring wide eyed. When they finally they started inflating the balloons the process went so quickly, in moments they were full and the baskets were lifting off swiftly, gliding just over tree tops above our heads.

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Milani trotted along, pointing, keeping her eyes glued in wonderment at the colorful balloons as they grew smaller and smaller in the distance.  For several days she told stories of fire and balloons in the sky.

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Pop Pop Pop...Boom
We decided to take the girls to the fireworks at the middle school.  In years past, Milani never really had a problem with fireworks, but I was a little worried she might be at an age where she could be more fearful of the noise, so I prepped her leading up to the day of the fireworks letting her know we would be seeing fireworks that "Pop pop pop".  We arrived early and spread out our quilt.  As the sun set Milani darted around in the grass, flashing by her sister and eliciting hiccuping strings of baby squeals and giggles, and pausing to turn and ask us eagerly "Pop pop pop?".

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                                                                                                                                Berkley screeching at the top of her lungs...girlfriend gets excited!

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 We even sprung the two bucks for a glow necklace (that Milani lost interest in within minutes).  After the first "tester" firework was set off her tune changed from a lighthearted "Pop pop pop?" to a worried "Booomm!" that she delivered seriously with her chin lowered and her eyebrows furrowed.

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She climbed into Jon's lap turned her face and covered her ears, and didn't leave that spot.  I worried it would be a bust, but as soon as Jon offered her his sunglasses she actually relaxed and enjoyed the whole firework show from behind her safety shades.  Berkley didn't even bat an eye, she melted into my arms and watched the whole show.

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We went to the Mohegan Sun fireworks a few days later, Berkley fell asleep amidst the explosions and the safety sunglasses worked their magic a second time.  In fact the rest of the week Milani asked almost daily "Pop pop boom?"
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Bill's Blueberries
We gathered our buckets, packed up a lunch and hightailed it to Bill's Blueberries for opening day determined to beat the masses of people who would be coming to pick in the next couple weeks.

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She actually had the branch pulled right up to hr mouth but it snapped back as I took the picture.


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Milani did so much better than last year at singling out the biggest, juiciest, bluest berries and devouring them.

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The boys did so much better than last year at picking some berries for their bucket in addition to those they popped in their mouths.

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Forth of July
We celebrated the Fourth with family and neighbors at my Aunt Rose's annual July cookout.  Milani and Berkley both spent time in the pool with their cousins, passed between Jon, Uncle Jake and Aunt Ariana.

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Cannonball!!!

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Milani dried off just long enough to nibble some hotdog and strawberries before she was begging to go back into the water, so she and I swam until the storm clouds approached and thunder rumbled in the distance.

We waited out the heavy rain huddled under a party tent, debating amongst ourselves whether we would get electrocuted if the tent were struck by lightening or if the current would be grounded by the metal.  We changed into dry clothes and headed home before the sun set, long before any "Pop pop booms".  Both girls fast asleep by the time we hit the highway.
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Beach Day
Jon has been working steadily, constantly, on the other house, hoping desperately it will be rent worthy by September.  All summer we've said that as soon as he is to the point where we can slip away for a weekend, we will be hitting the beach for a couple days, and I can't wait because nobody loves the ocean quite the way Jon does, and I know his enthusiasm will be infectious.  He will dig, and swing little girls through the air, and body surf, and splash and make the beach absolutely magical for the girls.  Even though I know we will get some family time seaside by September, I couldn't turn down the opportunity to take a day trip with  Ariana and the gang.

We met up early in the morning and transformed Carmen's bachelormobile into a beach bound munchkinmobile, cramming beach bags into the trunk, carseats into the captain's chairs, and strapping an eight foot surfboard to the roof.  Despite two pit stops, a couple frustrating encounters with traffic, and a couple dozen rounds of "are we almost there yet?" our flip flops hit hot sand by lunchtime.

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We spent the entire afternoon playing in surf, scouring for seashells, picnicking on beach towels, and moving shovels full of golden sand.

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Looking like she's enjoying beach day...

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...until you realize that this is what her face looks like...sister wasn't feelin' the beach.

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blueberry smile!

It was only when the sun started to dip lower in the sky, and our shoulders were turning crimson, that we packed everything back into the car and started homeward.  As we drove the kid chatter slowly quieted as one by one exhausted little heads nodded off. We arrived home in the dark and tucked sandy bodies between cool sheets, simultaneously exhausted and replenished by an afternoon in the ocean.
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And Other Fun Stuff...
Besides all the grand adventures, we've been darting through sprinklers, sitting on quilts in the back yard, and eating popsicles quickly as they melt and run down our arms.  We've been taking quick trips to nearby playgrounds, and hitting up the farmer's market - beyond thrilled that it's farmers market season once again!

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Planning our next adventures, because summer is only half over and there's a lot more fun to be had!