Today was the Orange County Fair — the kids had a blast, of course. Total sensory overload. We spent most of the time there at the midway area, where all the rides are, since that is, of course, the only thing they were interested in doing, although I did convince them to go check out the livestock for a short bit when we took a food break.

My friend Sharon brought along her 5-year-old niece, Ruby, and her friend’s two kids, Gabriel and Aitana, who are 12 and 9 — and I think Owen was definitely feeling the pressure of wanting to impress the older kids. He was game to try just about any ride that he was tall enough to go on, including some that I thought would completely freak him out, and he came off of each one with the biggest grin on his face, yelling, “That was awesome!”

Awesome, indeed. We had a blast.

I know it’s been a while since I posted (thanks for the reminder, dad — said with obligatory roll of the eyes and shrug). Mostly we’ve just been busy, but in the best possible way.

Swim lessons began two weeks ago — Friday was their last day of that session, and their second session begins tomorrow. Edie, little water baby that she is, was (I believe) the only one in her little group of 3-year-olds to “graduate” from level 1 and advance up to level 2, so tomorrow she will begin with a whole new set of swimming challenges.

Last week we went to a new local water park and spent the day sliding and splashing and lazing about — it was great fun, and the kids have been asking me every day since then if we can go again, “every day. Can we go every day, mama??”

Last night I took Owen and my sister-in-law to see the Pacific Symphony’s summer concert at Verizon Wireless Amphitheater, an outdoor venue — last night’s concert was the orchestra playing the entire soundtrack to The Wizard of Oz while the movie plays on a screen on the jumbo-tron. Owen was a great date — we went to dinner beforehand at an Italian restaurant, and he gamely tried (end enjoyed) fried calamari, thoroughly enjoyed the fresh bread they bring to the table (though he did not like the “sour” dip — balsamic vinegar and olive oil), and was, in all, thoroughly entertaining. When we were getting ready to go out, I got him dressed in a cute little button down shirt and dark jeans, and combed his hair with gel — he looked very handsome, and I said as much.

“Mama,” he laughed, looking at his reflection in the mirror, “I look like a little husband!”

Tuesday is the Orange County Fair — fun awaits at every turn! And the following week, I managed to score some tickets to the Ringling Brothers Circus at Honda Center.

Even though we weren’t able to afford a “real” vacation this summer, it’s turning out to be one heck of a ride. Hope your summer is just as nice.

“Mama… are you going to die one day?”

“Well… yes.” I am hesitant, unsure how deeply to delve here. “We’ll all die one day.”

He has a nervous look in his eyes, but he nods solemnly, and I can tell he’s trying to put on a brave face.

“But hopefully that won’t be for a very, very long time,” I continue.

“Yeah.” Then he is quiet, thoughtful.

“But I’ll always be with you in your heart,” I say, tapping his chest lightly. “Right in here. You know how we talk sometimes about Bompa, Honey’s husband who’s in heaven?”

A nod, eyes wide with curiosity and, I think, a little fear, too.

“Well, he lives inside Honey’s heart and Jacquie’s heart and Daddy’s heart.”

“And your heart, too?”

“Well, Bompa went to heaven before I knew your daddy, but yes, I like to think he’s in my heart, too.”

He smiles at that, gives me a brief squeeze. “Yes,” he agrees. “You’ll always be with me.”

“Always.”

…that My Little Ponies have magnetic feet?

I didn’t either, until I just went to get some iced tea and discovered this trio migrating up the front of our refrigerator, left there by a certain little girl who is obsessed with her My Little Ponies.

In other news, there is a fire nearby, as is typical for Southern California in the hot, dry summer, and about every five or ten minutes another helicopter zooms loudly overhead, so low that they cause a shadow large enough to temporarily darken the sky when they fly over, making the windows rattle with the vibrations. It’s rather eerie. I can only presume they are either news copters or the kind that drop water.

Well, our Summer O Fun is in full swing. Already since school got out two and a half weeks ago we have been to the movies twice (free, even!), the beach, Disney’s California Adventure, two museums, the park, the library, and our local pool too many times to count.

The kids and I are having a blast, with each day being yet another adventure. And while it may sound like a costly summer, I have to say, I am doing it as frugally as I can — we pack our lunch, we ask for Triple A discounts, we carpool, we pass Edie off as still 2 (what? Shut up. You can’t say you haven’t ever done that. I remember being like 14 and my parents saying, “Pretend you’re ten!”) — whatever it takes to make the adventure more affordable.

Different friends have joined us for nearly all our jaunts so far, and I am trying to take photos of all the fun things we do and places we go, so that at the end of the summer I can put together a little scrapbook for each of the kids so they’ll remember our very first “Summer O’ Fun.” I’m hoping it’s a tradition that will continue each summer for the rest of their childhoods.

The picture above was taken yesterday, at the Pasadena Kidspace Museum — a very fun place that I will definitely visit again. So far, our summer is a candy-colored kaleidoscope of fun. How’s your summer going?

The other day I had a visit from someone I’d never met. He declared that his name was “Godrilla…”

“Godrilla?” I asked. “Not Godzilla?”

‘No,” he emphasized, very clearly, “GoDRILLa. I’m here visiting from another planet.”

“How interesting. Would you like a peanut butter and jelly sandwich?”

“Hmmm. Oh, yes. I’ve never had one. We don’t have peanut butter on my planet.”

Godrilla watched as I made the sandwich.

“That’s quite a mask you have there,” I said, making small talk. It’s so difficult sometimes to know what to say to people you’ve just met!

“Oh, yes. Thank you.”

“Do all the people on your planet look like you?”

“Oh, no. They actually put this mask on me and sent me away, here to your planet. To your village. I’m not sure why they made me wear this mask.” He took a bite of his peanut butter sandwich. “This is quite good.”

“I’m glad you like it. So, where exactly is your planet?”

“Oh… it’s very far away. Actually, it’s by Florida.”

“By Florida huh? You know, my mom and dad live in Florida.”

“Really?” he finished his sandwich and drank his juice (another first for Godrilla, as they don’t have juice on his planet, either), then stood up.

“Leaving so soon?” I asked him.

He nodded a bit, seeming sorry to have to leave. “Yes. I must find another way to get back home.”

“Well… would you mind if I took your picture? I’ve never met someone from another planet before.”

“Sure.”

And he sat on the stool, leaned his arms against the counter, and posed for this picture. Then, he was gone, and it was the last I’ve seen of Godrilla. I was sort of sad to see him go.