Patriots Day

     Ah, Patriots Day.  When I moved to Massachusetts 8+ years ago, I was like "what day?", and some of you may be thinking the same thing.  Patriot's Day is a Massachusetts and Maine only holiday, which is supposed to commemorate the Revolutionary War battles that took place in Concord and Lexington (most notably, the Ride of Paul Revere) in 1775.  Not everyone has the day off, banks are open, the post office is open, but many people do get the day off, and there are plenty of things to do, if you don't mind crowds. 
     The Boston Marathon is run on Patriot's Day, which is pretty exciting.  I remember when I worked in the city, it meant a rough, long commute home by train, but a good excuse to take a lunch break, to venture out and watch some of the racers as they crossed the finish line.  The Boston Red Sox also play their first home game of the season on Patriot's Day, usually starting in mid-morning.  I did get to be a "bleecher creature" one Patriot's Day many years ago; they lost that game (today's, too), as they often do, but it was still really exciting to be there, and then head over to Copley in time to see some of the first marathon runners cross the finish, before celebrating on their behalf by hitting the bars. 
     And let's not forget the true meaning of the Holiday - there are amazing re-enactments in Lexington and in Concord, of Paul Revere's ride out from the city, to battles in each town, and a parade in Lexington.  I've never had the luxury of attending any of them, being one of the unlucky one's who never had Patriot's Day off, but this year, I was determined to go to something.
     I knew that taking three wee ones into the City to watch the Marathon was going to be a marathon of my own, one I would surely lose very quickly upon setting out, so that was out.  No Red Sox tickets, and I wouldn't take three kids to that alone anyway (my hubbie never has the day off).  So, I planned to drive the kids up to Concord, normally 15 minutes away, for the re-enactment at the Old North Bridge.  We set out in the car ( and we were leaving almost on time!) and found that the driving route was closed for the festivities, and I knew that going around was going to make us late.  To make matters worse, as we were going, I was telling Quinn about the soldiers and the pretend battle they were going to be putting on a show about, and he started crying and saying he was afraid of soldiers and that he didn't want to go.  I didn't have any fight in me this morning, I couldn't take the whining before even getting out of the car, so I let him win that battle.  Decided on a mundane trip to the grocery store (which, in my defense, was long overdue and weighing on my mind), followed by a trip to the Dairy Joy to eat lunch outside in the 90 degree day. 
     We made it through the store in a little over an hour, record time; the kids ate their way from the produce section (grapes), to the deli (free slices of cheese), to the sample lady part way through the store (granola and yogurt), filled in with the pretzels and Kashi crackers I had brought along myself.  We even only had to go back through two aisles before finding the shoe that Sierra had thrown off without my noticing - that's better than the last time when she threw it off in Aisle 3 and four workers had to help me scour the store to find it, or the "My Little Pony lost in the produce aisle" debacle the trip before (searched the entire store as Kelsey cried her eyes out, only to find that it had been turned in to the Lost and Found, and thankfully the woman working there noticed the other Pony in our cart and stopped me to return it...)  I even bought two of those insulated Hot-Cold bags to keep our cold groceries in while we enjoyed our lunch out under the sun.
      We headed to the Dairy Joy and parked in front of their new "Now Open" sign, while I looked at the menu and helped Quinn decide on his usual, a hot dog with french fries and chocolate milk.  Then I had to think of what the baby girls would eat, and what I should order to cover in case they didn't eat what I ordered them.  I left the kids in the car - with the mini van doors open for plenty of air, I'm not a completely thoughtless mother - and walked up to the window to order.  I waited a couple minutes, waved to Quinn in the van behind me, turned back to the window... no one came.  I poked my head inside the door, and saw a guy filling ice.  "Hi, are you taking orders at the window?", I asked excitedly.  "Oh, sorry, we don't open until 11:30", he answered (it was barely 11).  I was pissed - "then, why is there an 'Open' sign outside?" I shot back.  I had been looking forward to our lunch all morning, our replacement for the way cooler and more spontaneous activities, like the marathon or re-enactments, not wanting this to be just another boring day, and here he was ruining it further.  I left the building and told Quinn that they weren't open yet, and he started crying again, so I promised we'd find another "outside lunch place". 
       I was wracking my brain, trying to think of where else would have outdoor seating, ever, not just because it is only April.  I knew there wasn't anywhere in Sudbury that would, and there aren't really any restaurants like that in Stow (and our favorite Stow restaurant is closed Monday's anyway), so we proceeded to drive to the next Dairy Joy, one in Maynard.  I didn't know if they were even open yet, and it wasn't very close by, but off we went.  We arrived at 11:23 (it didn't escape me that the other Dairy Joy was to open minutes later, but it was too late for them), but they didn't have food until 12.  Ugh!!  So, we drove into downtown Maynard; not a bustling metropolis, by any means, but I knew there were restaurants there.  I spotted a "Halfway Cafe"; it didn't have outdoor seating, but we'd been to the one in Watertown countless times and the food was good, so I parked in front and jumped out to check their hours - it said they opened at 11:30, but the door was locked.  Damnit!  All my efforts for an outside lunch had been thwarted, and I couldn't continue to drive around; I was hungry, these kids were hungry and getting cranky.  The only option we had left, which I knew Quinn would be thrilled with, was the McDonald's just down the street.  We hit the drive-thru, and we hit the road to go home, I planned we'd have a picnic there (I sucked down a chocolate shake on the way, for my troubles). 
      We got home, I set up the twins' little seats on the small front porch, and Quinn and I set up on the top step.  We were in the shade but the day was hot around us, a warm breeze blowing the baby girls' blonde hairs around, rustling Quinn's brown tossled hair.  The girls kicked their little feet and chewed away with their little teeth, and Quinn made quick work of his McNuggets and french fries.  We chatted about our wild goose chase this morning, I explained twice what a 'wild goose chase' meant, while the girls honked to tell me what a goose says.  It was so simple, so joyful, just so wonderful to be there with them.  I let my pursuit of extraordinary Patriot's Day activities and a different definition of "special" fade away, and just enjoyed being there with my three babies, in that moment, and savored how truly special every day I have with them really is.