What a difference a year makes.
Last year I sat inside holding a frightened Lil while Ian and daddy shot fireworks outside with friends.
This year, while celebrating at Mum and Papa's house, she couldn't get enough. She giggled. She gasped. She leaped with glee.
Meanwhile, Ian is still unsure of the whole fireworks thing, but he's coming along!
Loud noises? He's not a fan. The sudden bangs startle him and hurt his tender ears (he covered them much of the night), and he does not appreciate the smoke getting in his already-irritated-from-allergies eyes and nose.
He is cautious and caring, reminding the neighbor children to "Step back!" and "Watch!" as we celebrated. He makes the most of life--even what he considers an uncomfortable situation, enjoying his friends as usual, being silly and running and falling and rolling with his buddies.
Then there's daddy--helping, lighting, guiding, in the thick of the action.
And me. Watching them all. Loving them with all their differences and uniqueness. Knowing God made every member of my family in a special way and it is my job to love them unconditionally. It's called being a mom.
How was your Fourth? Do you, also, have two very different children?