“I’m sad about the super moon,” Henry lamented from the backseat tonight. “I have tears in my eyes. I can cry if I wa-aant.”

On this, the second longest day of the year and the night of the “most super super moon,” we threw parental caution to the wind, put Henry in his PJs, and headed out to the beach for the 9:30p sunset. On Sunday nights it’s hard to let the weekend go, isn’t it? We agree–especially in the summertime, and it’s always fun to find a way to stretch out our weekend time as long as possible. It was a great night for this kind of adventure. The sun was beautifully coral and round, peeking in and out of clouds as it set on the shoreline, lining blue clouds with streamers of pink across the sky. The beach was full–families and couples and throngs of kids making the most of a perfectly breezy summer evening. We watched Henry as he ran wildly through the sand, picking up “very cool” rocks as he went.

Before leaving, and after the sun had set, we swung on the swings and then caught wind of a freighter coming through the channel. This is any two year old boy’s dream come true…bedtime delayed, sand in his toes, mom and dad letting the evening stretch even further to watch a gigantic boat passing by. For ten minutes or so the freighter made its way slowly past us and out into the lake, Henry providing commentary the whole time. On the way home, he just kept saying over and over, “That was the biggest boat I’ve ever seen!” Worth every extra minute he wasn’t in bed tonight, for sure.

But perhaps the most entertaining part of the night was when we noticed the super moon outside the car window, noted it briefly, then turned another direction where it was suddenly out of sight. For a kid who’s never heard of a super moon before tonight, you’d think the world was grinding to a halt from the back seat. “I missed the super moon!” he whimpered. “I missed it. I’m sad about that super moon.” This went on for the next ten or so minutes, while we (very quietly) cracked up in the front seat, and Jason drove in circles around our neighborhood trying to get to spots where the super moon was once again visible to our sad little passenger. I managed to get a good deal of these shenanigans on video, but of course they’re pretty much just audio in the dark. If you could only have seen his face–that big, pouty lip and the scrunch that says, “I’m trying so hard not to cry right now but I think I just might melt.” These moments with our boy are simply priceless.

The story ends well for Henry, who, after saying prayers and goodnights was able to catch one last glimpse of the all-important super moon through the trees outside his window. Apparently this particular moon really is something special–at least when you’re two. I for one am just thankful for summer time and for all that this season means. This year it’s particularly special in ways, but there’s something about mid-June any year that puts me in a good mood. Could be the lack of snow and the very distant memory of it, could be random trips out to the beach and days at the pool and suntans and…well, just everything about summer. And I suppose it could be that super moon, although I think that might be a bit of a stretch. The best part about the moon to me is simply the hilarity it caused tonight on the way home (although it certainly was pretty, too). Whoever knew we’d have such a memory to attach to the super moon of 2013?

going to bed by the light of the silvery (er, i mean, super-y) moon tonight,

mm