Our July 4 was relatively quiet. We were thinking about going out to watch the local symphony and fireworks display, but at 4:30 PM, we got a half-frantic phone call from Lauren, asking if we could come get Dylan and keep him overnight; she had less than an hour before she had to be at work, and his usual sitter was unable to care for him. Of course we said yes, and off we went. We brought him home, fed him dinner (mashed potato, corn, and a tiny bit of brisket cut into Dylan sized slivers. The mashed potato and corn were a hit, but the brisket ended up on the floor. His breakfast of fruit and cereal and cinnamon toast fared some better, although the first few bites of the toast also ended up on the floor.) After dinner we went to visit Aunt Doris. She is retiring after 20 years at her job. (I give it at most two weeks before she is finding something new to do. She can't be idle any more than my mother [her sister] can; my mother has retired so many times, no one believes it any more.)

We stayed about an hour, then went to visit a friend across town. She was getting ready to leave for a trip, and had suitcases and various piles of items awaiting packing strewn everywhere. Again, we only stayed about an hour, then it was home. On the way, we saw some pretty fireworks that citizens were setting off, but we couldn't stop to watch since there was nowhere to pull over on the interstate. Dylan seemed more interested in the noise of firecrackers and fireworks than scared of them; I told him that it was America's birthday and everyone just wanted to say, "Happy birthday". By the time we arrived home, Dylan was out for the count. He roused just enough to look around when we took him out of the car, but put his head on my shoulder and went back to sleep almost at once. We put him to bed, and he slept until almost 7 AM yesterday morning.

Jay has given him a nickname: a Category 6 Texas tornado. He is always busy, but he is not hyperactive. Jay asked how I know he's not hyperactive. By the time you've reared two normally active kids to adulthood as I have, you get a sense of what "normal" is. So, no, Dylan is not hyperactive. He's just a busy little guy. He's not only walking now, he's running. By the time his mother picked him up at 10 AM, the living room was a mess (it's been worse), and we were both worn out. I spent much of the day in bed, and still went to bed as early as I could justify. I didn't even use the computer as much as I normally do. I think I was beginning to get sick...I've not been that tired in a long time, and I can't put it all down to Dylan being here; we just closed off areas that he's not allowed in, and turned him loose in the living room; we then had to supervise him in a single area rather than in the entire apartment. When his mother called, Dylan said hi to her on the phone, then got impatient for her arrival; he butted his head on the couch (it's well padded), and was saying "bye bye, bye bye". She said he's recently begun doing this; she calls it a temper tantrum, but it didn't seem like much of a tantrum to me. When she arrived, Jay unlocked the door, then stood to the side of the door and allowed Dylan to open it. (Now we know he can open the door, but it's kept locked at all times when he's here, so we don't worry about him going outside without one of us.)

I ended up getting up at 2:30 AM this morning with a horrible backache and other ills I won't go into here. I've seen wrung out dishrags with more energy than I have. I told Jay last night maybe he ought to just call a mortician and be done with it. That's not usual, but nothing else about yesterday was usual either.