Before the sad train.

Fair week is officially over. Which means we are beginning "recover from fair week" around these parts. There are trucks and tubs of equipment to unpack. Coolers to clean out. Ribbons to hang above beds. And hay to sweep and remove from every piece of clothing, shoe and duffle bag that made a visit to the fairgrounds last week.

We had a great week and I'm excited to give you all an update, but first, humor me for today while I share one of my favorite little moments from last week.

Birdy was a trooper all week. Missing naps left and right. Tagging along to wash lambs, hold ribbons, and sit for endless hours on hard metal bleachers while her sisters did their thing in the showring.

After the sheep show on Friday, Dan and I took the girls for a few quick rides on the mini-carnival, which was a new thing at the fair this year. Dan drew the short straw and got to take the girls on the rickety old ferris wheel. And then we both (happily) stood back while we sent them on some spinning, sickness-inducing ride.

But of course, Birdy was just a wee bit too small for the ride.

Late afternoon. No naps. Living on juice boxes, goldfish crackers and who knows what other unsupervised foods she'd dug out of the cooler and food stash--let's just say, she was holding on by a thread.

With tickets in hand, I coaxed her over to the tame train ride at the corner of the midway, even though she kept telling me she wanted to ride with her sisters.

I handed the guy her tickets and watched as he buckled her in to the pink train car with dancing elephants on the side.

She wasn't happy.

She refused to make eye contact with me and kept her chin glued to her chest.

But I thought surely once this thing starts puttering around the tracks, she'll perk up. All sadness will be forgotten in the bliss of the pink train.

Or not. Lap after lap, my sad little bird rode the train around and around without one little smile, one little raise of the head.