Happy Fourth of July!

Every year we go to this neighborhood thing 3 blocks from here- I call it a block party, but that really underestimates the scope of the thing. I should post the schedule, dudes, because it is jam packed. They kick off at 9 am with a kiddie parade led by the fire truck from the fire station at the end of the block. Then there's hat making, a pinewood derby, sidewalk chalk art, potluck breakfast, today there were covered wagon rides(a sheet over some chicken wire on a regulation Red Flyer- very clever!), a wiffle ball tournament, gutter boat races, ice cream making, and that barely gets us to noon. We are right this second missing a potluck awards dinner (all the kids who participate in the parade get an award- Claire Helen was "best tap dancer," and Simon was "most patriotic super hero.") and a SQUARE DANCE. A square dance. 3 blocks from my house, in the middle of urban Seattle. But a body can only take so much celebrating, and we are going to fireworks tonight at 10. We need our rest.

Some years they let the kids ride the fire engine- it seems to be mainly the whim of the guys on call which determines how many kids and where. This year they let them swarm.

Can you find Simon?

That's right, he's in the CAB!

Claire Helen's yoga teacher from preschool was kind enough to sit with him (a bit intimidating, just you and the firefighter alone up there, no?), and he took his parade waving duties quite seriously.

Claire Helen decided to walk with her friends instead of getting caught up in the fire engine mob scene.

There was plenty to see- two Statues of Liberty, whoa.

Good parade!

I just love this guy. Some of the old timers go all out for this thing. A tri cornered hat! The best part is he wasn't the only guy in period costume, nor was that the only thirteen colonies flag flying. We live in Mayberry.

After the parade they let all the kids crawl all over the truck, until they had to go to an actual fire. Very exciting, and frankly good timing because the kids weren't exactly being delicate with the machinery.

They set out this crinkly paper that somehow makes excellent hats when you fold it over a bucket. I don't know. Crafts are not my strong suit. But the kids love it.

Home again home again.

On one of the hot days last weekend we went to a carnival the museum about a mile from us put on- a bunch of old fashioned toys, sack races, bubble stands, that sort of thing. Simon still loves bubbles.


Claire Helen had just gotten a check for ten dollars for her birthday from her great grandmother. After putting 5 in savings, she got 5 dollars to spend however she wished. So far she's spent the one dollar on a popsicle, and keeps the rest VERY SAFELY HIDDEN in that wallet, which she checks forty times a day, and for at least a week would not let out of her sight.

Yeah, nobody liked the mural as much as I did.

They DID, however, like the salmon boat exhibit. Fish!

Next up is Claire Helen's birthday (Sunday, at long last, Sunday. She has been planning this shindig since last October. Somehow I've gotten roped into making a strawberry cake, which is to actually resemble a strawberry. Uh, we'll see.), and then a grandparent visit. After that we coast on in to Nana coming and the baby, in just over a month. Good thing, too, because Miss Fetus and I need to have us some words about the whole rib kicking business. Enough, baby.

Camping!

For Father's Day weekend we decided to pack up and head outta town, on what was probably our last pre-baby big adventure. As Mat says, it wouldn't be pregnancy if we didn't do something just a little bit stupid around 8 months. We have never been perfectly content car campers, so we found an easy backpacking trail about an hour from here (can I just say again how amazing it is to get the benefits of living in a big city while remaining less than an hour from true wilderness? Hundreds and hundreds of trails and parks to choose from- ocean, mountains, lakes, rainforest, whatever you want. We weren't the only people in the forest all weekend, but if we'd wanted to be, all we would have needed to do was drive another half hour or so.), picked up Mat after work, and had our tent staked in the woods by 8.

We are raising ACTUAL tree huggers. No prompting for these photographs at all, scout's honor.

We all had a great time, and though we are looking forward to the days of lighter packing for the trail, we're very glad we went. And honestly the pregnancy was more of a pain for packing than the kids- people who are 8 months pregnant are extremely precious sleepers, can't use plain old iodine tablets for purifying drinking water (something about the fetus growing an extra head, I don't know), and are not nearly as good at being pack mules as non pregnant people. They do, however, remember to bring s'mores supplies.

How many s'mores are you going to have tonight, Claire Helen?

Hey, don't we usually have, like, a dog or something on the end of this thing?

Children in the mist.

Simon is good at telling us when he wants a break.

Hey mom, I'm in a TENT! Not sleeping or anything, but hey, a TENT!

This is the way they really are, giggly, cuddly best friends who love to play together all day long. We know it's mostly luck, so we just appreciate our good fortune and adore watching them enjoying being together.

"You gonna eat that?" And Simon in Mat's baseball cap, keeping away from the evil sun. Did I tell you all that in addition to having every other non-serious skin malady in the book, he is allergic to sunscreen? Sweet Jesus on a stick, boy. I am really sorry about those maternal epidermal genes, but we have just got to be able to go outside every once in a while this summer. Maybe we could put him a giant UV protective plastic bubble.

Random photo dump from the last month or so

Simon has adopted his sister's mostly monochromatic style of dressing.

Simon doesn't really think he needs to own a lot of things- good little middle kid- but when his favored objects get taken away, it's a big problem.

Ah, order restored to the universe.

I took the kids hiking a couple weeks ago on a mountain about 45 minutes from here.

Mysteriously, I did not remember the first 3/4 mile being switchbacks, from the last time I hiked it, not pregnant and not with two small children. They were troupers, though Claire Helen absolutely did not trust that I could find my way back to the car and kept demanding to look at the map.

"Daddy, iffer a tow truck was broken, would another tow truck come and get it?"

Sunday morning