Brian, Ellie and I are still trying to recover from July 4th. Neighbors on all sides, it seems, got some cannon-sized fireworks and set them off all day and night on the holiday.
I'm normally a big fan of the Fourth of July... and I'm sure Ellie will love it and the fireworks some day, too. But this was not the year for that.
During the day, Ellie and Brian went for a walk and saw some neighbors shooting off a small sidewalk fireworks display. Ellie acted scared at first, but then immediately said "please?" when the pops and fizzes stopped. That part was pretty funny. But throughout the late afternoon hours Ellie seemed to get more and more nervous when we'd hear a nearby blast. She only got about an hour's worth of sleep in Monday night before the real explosions started in our neighborhood. From then on we spent most of the evening trying to calm her down and get her back to sleep. After about a dozen trips into her room to give hugs and read stories, I finally brought her into our bed where she'd feel safer.
She calmed down enough to lay with mom and dad in bed, but wasn't too interested in sleep since this was some place new and different. Close to midnight, when Ellie's head was digging into my collar bone and she was periodically kicking Brian in the face, we put her back to bed. I guess she was exhausted enough at that point to ignore the remaining firework sounds.
Brian and I vowed to go to Canada next 4th of July and then promptly passed out.