You'll look at these pictures and wonder where it went wrong. We're still wondering! The more I think about it, the more I believe that Luke + 88 degree heat = CRANKY.
On the third, we headed up to my dad's on Lake Tapps for some swimming and good eats:
My sister and her boyfriend flew up from L.A. for the weekend festivities and by Sunday, everyone was chopped liver next to Auntie Jenny and Uncle Coleman.
After dinner, more trips down the slide, some frisbee-throwing and raspberry-topped brownies, we headed home to put Luke to bed. We had a lazy morning planned thinking Luke would be ready for the big 4th of July party in my mom's neighborhood.
Driving down, I pictured Luke squealing with glee as he zipped down the slip 'n slide, frolicking with the other kids at the party and happily watching the baseball game from the sidelines.
Why, oh why, do we set ourselves up with these outrageous expectations?
Luke didn't want to go near the slip 'n slide, he hated the screaming coming from the baseball field and he definitely was not into the heat.
We spent much of the evening in Nonna's house, playing with his Matchbox cars and track. Another large portion of the evening was me and Roger shadowing Luke, trying to get him to drink more and more water. (Do all heart moms worry about their heart kiddo's in the heat?)
Once it started to cool down, Luke's spirits lifted dramatically. By the end of the night, he was going strong, playing on the trampoline and chasing Papa. Rog and I on the other hand could barely keep our eyes open on the drive home. He wore us out!
After showers and jammies, we took Luke out on our upstairs porch to watch some of the fireworks in the town below us. He thought they were pretty fantastic until two ear-deafening explosions went off right across the street. He looked at us and said, "Okay, time to go in the house now!"
On Sunday, after trying to explain to Luke that he couldn't watch more fireworks, we headed back down to my mom's to get some more time in with his new best buddies, Jenny and Coleman. He, of course, was in a stellar mood, even without a nap.
Maybe next year he'll love the 4th, but even if he doesn't, hopefully I'll have learned to set aside my postcard-perfect expectations and to remember that these moments make all the hair-pulling moments worth it:
