Party, party, party (and party)
As expected, the summer has proven to be more jam-packed and fast-paced than the rest of the year. It's like we just can't squeeze enough life into the long daylight hours.
I begin this long and winding party-recap post by going back a month, to Aden's birthday. My intention to blog about it shortly after it happened got swallowed up in family matters and funerals. So here we are.
The morning of his birthday, we gave him our gift, something long overdue: his own set of golf clubs. You would have thought they were made of gold. Then we set up our own personal driving range for a few minutes, just to break them in.
That afternoon, we headed to church to meet up with the grandparents, a few of Aden's very best friends, and their families. The hot, sticky day ended our playground plan quickly, so we headed inside to the gym for a great Paw Patrol paw-ty, per Aden's request. Everyone had a blast.
Then this past Saturday was Trey's birthday, and in typical Trey fashion, he requested a laid-back affair at Giga's house with just family. The requests were very specific for food, attendees, activities and their timing. We expect nothing less from our Trey!
After Trey opened his gifts (which of course had to be first) Giga dished up a fantastic cookout feast for us, Nana and Granddad, and Meemaw Gloria. Then we just chilled and enjoyed each other and the beautiful day. A little baseball, relaxing by the pond, walking the trail. And Trey working in some valuable iPad time, of course. He couldn't have planned a better party!
Because there was still daylight left on Saturday after the party, we headed out to another one. Some precious friends who we see pretty often but haven't actually spent time with in forever invited us over for a cookout. Couldn't say no, especially with all five of our combined children begging us constantly to get together.
No photos, but beautiful fellowship, laughing, and occasionally stopping to count heads.
As the sun set, we took off to our tiny little downtown area for fireworks.
I pause here to state something that I've probably written on the blog before, that I was born in the wrong decade. Not really - I realize completely that God ordains our times, and am very thankful for the comforts of the current time. But I guess maybe my values or love of simplicity or...I don't even know what the word is.
There's a scene in the movie The Sandlot. It is July the 4th, and Smalls runs out of his house around dusk to go to the only night baseball game of the year. The 1950s-ish street in front of his house has been transformed into a neighborhood cookout. Families and kids and pets and sparklers all over the place, everyone in their red, white, and blue, Ray Charles' "America the Beautiful" playing in the background.
That's the ideal, what I'd love to have, even though we don't technically live in a neighborhood. But the nostalgia spirit of it all. It's America to me, what America should be.
I got close, y'all. Not quite as Norman Rockwell, but still. Close.
We parked on a hill at an auto parts store, with several dozen other people. In the grass between the parking lot and the very busy road, children chasing each other in circles, men strumming guitars, darkness fell and I saw it. This version of America that looks a lot like it should in my head.
Then the fireworks began, and though our rinky-dink town's display wouldn't have impressed the city folk, there were still moments that took my breath away. And I praised the Lord for my country, flawed as it is, and the brave men and women who have fought and continue to fight for our freedom. What a privilege to be an American.
All this with a shaking four-year-old in my lap, legs wrapped around mine and clasping my hands over his ears. Yes, Aden was terrified of the fireworks. While his typically-cautious brother romped around and cheered through much of the show. Go figure.
A memorable Independence Day if there ever was one.
And because two parties in one weekend were just not enough, we happily joined in an old-fashioned church picnic Sunday at our church, in honor of Brandon's parents' birthdays. Hot dogs, yummy potluck food, bluegrass music, and just wandering around in the shade enjoying the family of God. A little piece of Heaven indeed.
Feet screaming, house in shambles, kids falling asleep sitting up...it's been a great stretch. Life more abundantly. Blessed beyond measure indeed. Praise, praise the Lord.
I begin this long and winding party-recap post by going back a month, to Aden's birthday. My intention to blog about it shortly after it happened got swallowed up in family matters and funerals. So here we are.
The morning of his birthday, we gave him our gift, something long overdue: his own set of golf clubs. You would have thought they were made of gold. Then we set up our own personal driving range for a few minutes, just to break them in.
That afternoon, we headed to church to meet up with the grandparents, a few of Aden's very best friends, and their families. The hot, sticky day ended our playground plan quickly, so we headed inside to the gym for a great Paw Patrol paw-ty, per Aden's request. Everyone had a blast.
Then this past Saturday was Trey's birthday, and in typical Trey fashion, he requested a laid-back affair at Giga's house with just family. The requests were very specific for food, attendees, activities and their timing. We expect nothing less from our Trey!
After Trey opened his gifts (which of course had to be first) Giga dished up a fantastic cookout feast for us, Nana and Granddad, and Meemaw Gloria. Then we just chilled and enjoyed each other and the beautiful day. A little baseball, relaxing by the pond, walking the trail. And Trey working in some valuable iPad time, of course. He couldn't have planned a better party!
Because there was still daylight left on Saturday after the party, we headed out to another one. Some precious friends who we see pretty often but haven't actually spent time with in forever invited us over for a cookout. Couldn't say no, especially with all five of our combined children begging us constantly to get together.
No photos, but beautiful fellowship, laughing, and occasionally stopping to count heads.
As the sun set, we took off to our tiny little downtown area for fireworks.
I pause here to state something that I've probably written on the blog before, that I was born in the wrong decade. Not really - I realize completely that God ordains our times, and am very thankful for the comforts of the current time. But I guess maybe my values or love of simplicity or...I don't even know what the word is.
There's a scene in the movie The Sandlot. It is July the 4th, and Smalls runs out of his house around dusk to go to the only night baseball game of the year. The 1950s-ish street in front of his house has been transformed into a neighborhood cookout. Families and kids and pets and sparklers all over the place, everyone in their red, white, and blue, Ray Charles' "America the Beautiful" playing in the background.
That's the ideal, what I'd love to have, even though we don't technically live in a neighborhood. But the nostalgia spirit of it all. It's America to me, what America should be.
I got close, y'all. Not quite as Norman Rockwell, but still. Close.
We parked on a hill at an auto parts store, with several dozen other people. In the grass between the parking lot and the very busy road, children chasing each other in circles, men strumming guitars, darkness fell and I saw it. This version of America that looks a lot like it should in my head.
Then the fireworks began, and though our rinky-dink town's display wouldn't have impressed the city folk, there were still moments that took my breath away. And I praised the Lord for my country, flawed as it is, and the brave men and women who have fought and continue to fight for our freedom. What a privilege to be an American.
All this with a shaking four-year-old in my lap, legs wrapped around mine and clasping my hands over his ears. Yes, Aden was terrified of the fireworks. While his typically-cautious brother romped around and cheered through much of the show. Go figure.
A memorable Independence Day if there ever was one.
And because two parties in one weekend were just not enough, we happily joined in an old-fashioned church picnic Sunday at our church, in honor of Brandon's parents' birthdays. Hot dogs, yummy potluck food, bluegrass music, and just wandering around in the shade enjoying the family of God. A little piece of Heaven indeed.
Feet screaming, house in shambles, kids falling asleep sitting up...it's been a great stretch. Life more abundantly. Blessed beyond measure indeed. Praise, praise the Lord.
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