Our dog Buddy has major issues with fireworks. Our lovely neighbors start setting off their bottle rockets and roman candles around noon, and then carry on with the big guns until one am, or until someone loses an appendage.
Buddy will pace, bark, whine and shake the entire day. He loses his mind and believes the 4th of July to be the end of days. Poor guy must think he's in a fox hole or experiencing Armageddon.
Fortunately, great-Grandma B lives in Laguna and the fireworks are set off a barge in the ocean, rather than across the street. It was still traumatic for little Buddy, but his apocalypse lasted only 45 minutes, rather than all day.
We had a wonderful day with great-Grandma B who made her world-famous potato salad. I mean, can you even call it Independence Day without potato salad? It would be a travesty.
FD, Froggy and I spent the day at the beach (with the other 10 million people) and Froggy LOVED running into the ocean. It was quite a walk down to the beach and the entire way, Froggy repeated, "beach, ocean, beach, ocean!" She is a Cali kid, and has no fear of the waves. We were holding her by the hand, but a wave came up her her head and she just held her breath and didn't mind at all. I can't wait for surfing lessons. I hope she doesn't mind her old mom taking them with her.
Froggy is at a great age right now. She's becoming a little person, and it's so fun living vicariously through her, as she discovers the sea and world. I have to remind myself to enjoy the moment, rather than looking forward to all the fun we're going to have. Happy 4th!