Fireworks!

We had such a good time with the Mass Moens this past weekend that we decided to drive up to their house in Massachusetts for the long holiday weekend. Sue made us promise that we would try to get up there in time for the "best fireworks show EVER," held in their hometown each year on July 3rd. So off we went, making it there just under the wire. Actually, that's not totally true. We were about a block away when the first fireworks were set off, so we all started booking down the street, stroller in tow.

They had the road shut down to traffic and it seemed like the entire town was packed in. They live in this great old neighborhood right on a lake, with winding roads and beautiful old trees. I love it so much there and even though it was packed it was just a great vibe and great crowd.

It seemed so promising!



Beautiful, right? Unfortunately Sylvie and I didn't see any of them! As soon as Sylvie heard the first few booms above her head she totally and completely freaked out, melted down, literally scaled my body and buried her head into my neck. Screaming, sobbing, leaving a snotty blubbery mess of fear and drama all over me. The poor kid was so traumatized that I was on the verge of tears at one point because I really thought I had permanently damaged her. It was awful! The fireworks were SO close and SO big and SO loud, while we were standing there big huge chunks of ash and soot were raining down on us. It was crazy, and under normal circumstances I would have loved it. But poor Sylvie was just a mess, and so I walked off with her back toward the car, tightly covering her ears with my hands and trying to soothe her as much as I could. About half way to the car I realized that I didn't have any keys with me, and when I turned around and started walking back to John and the gang Sylvie literally LITERALLY pulled out a fistful of my hair. Words just can't describe how scared she was, poor bug. So we sat on a bench and just waited it out, her crying and blubbering the whole time.

John took the above photo right when we first got there, and he accidentally had it on the wrong setting so it's just a blurry mess. But you can still get the idea.

We promised Sylvie later that night and the next day that we would not see anymore fireworks, ever. Hard promise to keep when the very next day is July 4th! We ended up telling her that the fireworks we could see from the car while driving on the 4th were "cute happy perfect little BABY fireworks" (said in a high pitched baby voice) and that the ones we saw on July 3rd were just big Mommy and Daddy fireworks. She liked the idea of the cute happy baby fireworks (and especially being in the car meant that they not only looked smaller but were much quieter too) so for the rest of the weekend she would say "No Mommy fireworks! I not like Mommy fireworks! I like Baby fireworks!"