day 111: a not-so ideal independence day

The older I get, the more I find myself doing this.

For major holidays, I have this perfect vision in my head of how the celebrations will go. Like my life would be running in accordance to a movie maker's script, complete with perfectly-chosen outfits, makeup, decorations, scenery, et cetera.

And it's not even like I go to great lengths to make this picture-perfect holiday come to fruition. I just continue on with my normal routine and figure that one of these times, it'll magically happen.

Thus was the scenario tonight.

We went downtown, sort of at my insistence, to see the fireworks from the center of the city. We'd already had a good day--lazy times in the morning, an afternoon of swimming in the unusually not-so hot clouded over sun, and a cookout. Then the fireworks. And honestly, my expectations there weren't high. I just wanted my girls to sit there, enjoy the fireworks bursting and booming overhead, and we'd call it a night.

Just 5 minutes before the show was to start, we melted down. Two of the girls climbed in the van, yelled "We don't want to see this, and we didn't want to come here anyways!" and then slammed the door shut. Wow. That came completely out of nowhere. This was not going to fly. I wanted them to watch the fireworks. Enjoy them. Be picture-perfect for a few great moments.

I tried coaxing. I tried looking upset. I tried raising my voice. The result? One came out, burrito-wrapped herself in a blanket, and lay there, hibernating. The other one came out and hid behind the car, intentionally not facing the direction of the fireworks in the nighttime sky. I tried coaxing some more. The result? She moved herself from behind the car to her chair beside me....but she turned it around, again intentionally NOT facing the fireworks, and she added a pair of headphones she had snagged from the van. Not seeing it, not hearing it.

Oh. My. Word.

A few minutes in to the show, my burrito-wrapped blanket baby pushed her head out and watched. I was good with that. And then a few minutes later, R was able to shed the headphones and snuggle up on my lap. Much better. And then she leaned her mouth close to my ears....and then it all made sense.

"Mom, I know I was acting bad, but I really don't want to be here, because fireworks remind me of Daddy, and I don't want to be here and watch this without him."

I'm sometimes way too quick to forget that this deployment can so deeply affect my kids. I know how I'm feeling and what I'm thinking about everything in life in direct regards to my husband being gone; I cannot let myself overlook the fact that the exact same kinds of things are going on in kid-like versions in my children's heads and hearts.

(p.s. there are pics of today. you just don't get to see them. yet. I'm in an old-school 35-mm film mood, which means I've resurrected my Canon Rebel. which means I so desperately want to covet a digital Canon Rebel. which means I still don't have money for one, so I use my old one. which means I'll get the pics on cd in a few days and that I'll be buying more rolls of film, too. is that old fashioned or what?)