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Let's Keep Those Parties Coming!

We had a fantastic three-day weekend,
everyone enjoying extra Daddy time (most of all Mommy, who is WAY
nicer in the morning when someone else is on hand to help with
getting dressed and out the door) and eating lots of ice cream.
Maddie especially wriggled excitedly like a puppy for seventy-two
hours straight, going from fun thing to fun thing, always looking
over her shoulder at Daddy. The one down side to the celebrations
– I found it difficult to explain to Maddie what all the
parties were about. Try describing fighting for independence to a
three-year-old. Heck, try explaining what a country is to a

We kicked off our party-fest Friday
morning at Maddie’s friend Maxum’s birthday party.
Maddie had been looking forward to it for a long time, and is no
stranger to Maxum’s backyard pool; we’ve often been
over for the morning, had some lunch there, and hopped back in the
water. The twist for Maddie was that she’d never seen so many
people in Maxum’s pool at once, and was struck shy, even with
all her playgroup friends. Everyone cleared out of the water for
cake before drying off and heading home, and the worst part of the
day came when we had to explain to Maddie that it was time for us
to leave as well: she saw everyone getting out of “her”
pool and leaving Maxum, and figured it was finally time for her to
have fun and hang out with her pal. The tears were so great that
Maxum was allowed back into the pool so the two of them could play
together for five last minutes, though Maddie was forced to go home
and eat without him. Sigh.

Friday night found us cooking out with the grandparents, Maddie and
Cora in hog heaven as they ran around with their cousins. When my
brother-in-law unveiled a gorgeous cake he’d made for the
celebration, Maddie’s eyes got wide and she said,
“Whose birthday is it now?” I tried to explain the
whole birth-of-the-country thing and Maddie quickly nodded, less in
comprehension and more in a “I’m going to have cake for
the second time today so whatever you say is fine by me” kind
of way. Cora, unfortunately, has begun to realize that all is not
fair at the dining table, and has begun to complain vociferously
about the fact that no desserts land on her plate. She’s
never tasted them, but they sure look good, I guess.

The festivities continued Saturday, when we hit a nearby
town’s annual ice-cream crank-off contest. Yes, it was more
sugar than Maddie’s had in a month, but our church was
entered into the competition so I reasoned we were sacrificing for
the Lord as we ate our samples. Cora overheated (hard to believe,
since it was a mere 99 degrees in that crowded outdoor square with
thousands of people standing around) so I had less than one tasting
before having to head indoors with her, but Maddie managed to get
four separate cups of ice cream – all in the name of
supporting our church, of course.

Then to top it all off (no pun intended) we had family over for
dinner that night, and I suggested a walk to the ice cream parlor
after dinner – completely forgetting the dairypalooza
we’d just had that afternoon. Maddie’s face lit up and
she said, “I get MORE ice cream today? After this afternoon?
Let’s go! Let’s go! Let’s go!” One look at
my husband’s face told me that repealing the offer was not an

So by the time Sunday rolled around, Maddie was overtired, having
never caught up on the sleep lost from watching fireworks, and worn
out from all the sugar highs. And sure enough, she asked if we were
having ice cream that day.

I can see we’re going to have to step her down gradually.
Sugar and party withdrawal is never pretty.


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