Wally asking every five minutes if his kids were here yet.
The oldest cousin and the next-youngest (my nephew Patrick, 14, and my son Wally, 4) hangin’ together.
Taking a half-hour break mid-afternoon to snuggle in bed with both of my babes.
Listening to Randy explain to his parents why “please” was not a magic word and that our son didn’t need the prompting “what do you say?” in order to say Thank You for something. That, my friends, was particularly sweet.
Noticing that there has studiously and likely purposefully been absolutely no mention of Miss G’s birth. Realizing that, while I notice things like this, I have truly come to a place that I don’t really care what they’re saying in private.
Sitting down to pumpkin pie with cool whip all by myself. Baby with Aunt Kelly, Wally playing with cousins, everyone else finished dessert long ago. Just me, hot Roiboos tea, and pie.
Taking a fairly decent family picture, all things considered.
No squabbling among the children that required adult intervention.
Happily noticing that I can chat with my sister in law with nearly as much candor as with my own sister.
Unfortunately, we took no pictures all day with our own camera…