Scads of nieces and nephews at yesterday’s birthday part. From the right, there’s a nephew, there’s a nephew held by a sister, there’s a niece right below reaching for something amongst the paper plates and the birthday girl niece beside her. Well, not scads, I guess. One more nephew was running around in cowboy boots somewhere in the background.
The Birthday Niece
I was official photographer. I slap my picture-taking hands after viewing the pics. Lots of wonderful kids running about but it’s difficult getting a really good picture with an army of kids racing here and there. Some would-be great pics always had stray adults in the background distracting. There was one woman in particular who managed to be in the background of about 200 of what could have been cute kid shots.
There was a lot of blowing of bubbles which could have made for some nice pics but there was always a trash can or a baby carriage in the background. The place was great for playing but not very photogenic and I concentrated on close-up shots of 1 to 4 happy faces but that was problematic too as the majority were preschool and didn’t care one bit about the nose goo mingled with chocolate all over their faces.
The slighter older ones managed to keep their faces relatively clean.
Birthday Niece and Tickled Nephew
I took 400 pics.
Another Niece, Sister of the Birthday Niece, Swinging
“A blind monkey could get some good photos with 400 pics,” Marty said.
He was right. But I’m a plotting, scheming human and probably walked away with less good pics than the blind monkey.
Nephew in cowboy boots and son H.o.p. (long hair) on the Weird-Not-A-Seesaw
There was a weird-not-a-seesaw that All The Kids wanted to get on, but once on they wanted off of it because there just wasn’t much point. What was weird about it was the seats were waist high to an adult so none of these kids except the older ones could climb onto them. And the seats only went up and down a couple of inches. The littler kids you could easily lift up and hold them there (you had to stand right by them because they were so high off the ground) but many of the kids five and six and seven years of age needed help getting onto the seats, and some were too large for me to lift.
Kidsville!
One nephew and I tracked an ant colony that started on one side of the pavilion and erupted again way on the other side and went half way down to the nearby creek. I made much over it. “Look! Look where it starts! And it’s over here as well! Let’s see where it goes!” So there was much excitement over it because I was Hey Lookee Here Animated.
This was down in Henry County and the play area was located next to a number of historical buildings that have been relocated to this park. H.o.p. and the nieces and Marty and I wandered over for a look after the party was over and people were on their way home. Well, the nieces and H.o.p. ran and Marty and I wandered.
One of the first log cabins was interesting to walk around in and experience the extremely low ceilings, though it was more spacious inside than it looked to be and had storage areas on the second floor (yes, a second floor) that I’ve not seen in the few other period cabins I’ve been in. However, it seemed to me that much of it had to have been refashioned from fresh lumber, though I could be wrong. Some of the ceiling timbers looked original.
There was an old one room schoolhouse. Couldn’t get into it so just peered through the windows.
A train. Lots of ringing of the bell. Several signs read “Please Don’t Climb on the Train” but it seemed outfitted for kids to climb all over it, which was confusing, and kids were all over it and adults as well. I stood to the side and stupidly wondered aloud, “I can’t tell where you’re supposed to climb and not climb.” I was ignored, which was for the best.
There was an old separate kitchen house which was new enough that it had a place for an old stove rather than a fireplace. The stove was not included.
The favorite place was the first public library, a big one-roomed building with a huge door and its walls partly lined with not-so-very-deep shelves. There were a few old chairs and a small table and the nieces (one 3, one 4) took turns giving presentations on the building after I gave a fake stagey one. When it was H.o.p.’s turn, he preferred to play a Chinese vampire and hop across the stage for their entertainment (if you don’t know what I’m talking about then you’ve some critical holes in Hong Kong cinema history, but then so do I).
The 4 year old niece, who is very observant, began her presentation by indicating H.o.p. and saying, “First, we have here a clown…”
Because his nieces are Chinese, H.o.p. endeavors to entertain them with things Chinese. His mind goes straight to Chinese dragons and the Huns. Because he wanted to learn “all about China!” this year he became fixated on the Huns along the way and we find ourselves answering the same twenty questions about Huns all year long. He says he wants to learn Chinese but so far has mastered only two words. But he is proud of those two words.
The nieces love our Honda Element and back at their home we sat in the car for at least 45 minutes while they pretended each to drive to the zoo. H.o.p. doesn’t care anything about sitting in the driver’s seat and pretending to drive, but his cousins do a remarkable job imitating, and were asking what every little knob was about. I decided 45 or so minutes was long enough and finally bribed them out of the car with a half a stick of sugarless gum for each.
The older one in particular is crazy about H.o.p. (well, they both are but the older one in particular) and he’s crazy about them. And good with them. Sooooooo good with them.
He was good with the other kids as well. There were only three swings and only one of those wasn’t a toddler swing. H.o.p. waited and waited and waited to get on the swing and as soon as it was free and he got on it one of the little girls came running up wanting to swing and he promptly and happily got off and helped her on and helped push her high.
There were no birthday presents. Instead it was requested that donations be made to the Half the Sky Foundation, a non-profit that trains and pays nannies, women from the local communities, to help out at the orphanages, including the orphanage which was originally home to H.o.p.’s cousins.
