Counting Down

I don't like to make a big deal about my birthday (although my husband did make it really fun and special this year).
Thanksgiving makes me feel guilty (choosing between families, someone is inevitably left out).
I'm kind of a Scrooge about Christmas (but getting better after marrying an elf).
New Years Eve always seems like a lot of work for a hangover.
I think that all of this ill-will towards holidays stems from being a child of divorce. I'm not here to win sympathy or to point fingers or blame my parents. I know that they did the best that they could and I love them both dearly but when holidays are spent in rotating shifts the magic gets lost and for me the guilt and stress took over.
However,there is one day of the year that I love. Truly, madly, deeply. The Third of July. I mean, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't already really super pumped up about it. In fact, last night I made Michael model a patriotic headband I bought at the dollar spot at Target (6 weeks ago, yes, I am a nut for anything red, white and blue).



Two years ago Michael were on a road trip on the 2nd and 3rd of July, when boredom took over I offered to entertain him by singing all of the patriotic songs I knew; America The Beautiful, God Bless America, This Land Is Your Land, and on, and on. I have to admit, my talent was pretty amazing. I remember impressing even myself with how many songs I was able to come up with in their entirety and how long I was able to entertain us. We then decided to stop at Rarity Mountain at a scenic overlook in Tennessee to take some pictures and because it was the Third of July I was wearing my most favorite patriotic shorts in all their glory. You're Welcome, Tennessee.

Last year, being an Olympic year and all, I could hardly contain my American Pride. I went shopping and bought allll of the red, white and blue things. And then I challenged myself to see if I could go from the Third of July until the Olympic opening ceremonies, July 27, wearing red white and blue in some form every day. Let's just say it wasn't very challenging.

For my birthday in February I begged (and begged and begged) Michael to buy me this Uncle Sam outfit.

After tricking me into thinking he wouldn't buy it for me all week by saying ridiculous things like "you know Uncle Sam is a guy" and "when would you ever wear that?!" He gave it to me. Best. Birthday. Ever.

So yeah, I will be wearing that to fireworks on the Third. My family is so lucky they get to sit with and Uncle Sam impersonator.