Well, we managed to go all day long and not take a single picture.
Not even of the turkey. Which was awesome, by the way.
Aubrey Kate actually wore her turkey shirt. Largely because Chris dressed her and he's not as open to giving her options as I am. He couldn't get her in the skirt though. Some things about that girl are pretty consistent.
I dressed Rhys and opted for a fall colors onesie and pants instead of the turkey onesie because I felt certain he would spit up at some point and I could change him.
Only he never did.
Barely even drooled on the thing.
He did, however, drool and spit up on me so I had to ditch my orange shirt just after I put him down for his nap.
Lucky me.
So...no pictures.
But I have some great memories.
The food was wonderful. Best replica of Dad's dressing I've ever made. And Chris did a great job of following Dad's instructions for the turkey.
Some friends came by to visit for a little while and it was so nice to chat. We took food to our friend's who's son was in the hospital (14 hours of IV fluids and no wet diaper...dehydrated). Chris and Aubrey Kate cleaned the kitchen while I was gone delivering the food.
Rhys and I had some sweet snuggle time before his nap. I sing to him before I put him down and when I started singing, he cooed. Uh...swoon.
After naps, the kids and I got some facetime with Nana, Pudding, Aunt Kim, Uncle Ken and Hope. I can't remember the last time I saw my aunt and uncle. My brother's wedding in 2005? So even though we were apart, we still got to see each other.
And tonight as Aubrey Kate and I were going through our gratitude list, she said, "I'm thankful for Snort (hint: Where's My Mother?). For the tall building (I have no idea where that is). For Uncle Ken. For Aunt Kim. For Puddin. And for Nana."
It was a lovely day of family. The four of us. Our friends. Extended family.
God brings people together. Nothing is by chance. Every moment of our lives is ordained by Him. How undeservedly blessed I am for Him to give me such an amazing family.
No comments:
Post a Comment