We are home from our "Thanksgiving Feast" as Jonah called it. I may never get through the pictures. I watched the children play and I snapped and I snapped and I snapped. I put the camera down, but no...I see another shot...then another...then another. Hundreds of just random pictures to go through. I couldn't help but continue, because it is this that I look back on from my childhood and smile. The horribly lighted polaroids, the goofy faces, the full house, the smiles, the embarrassing moments and the laughter. They tell a story of my childhood, and I feel a calling to tell the story of my little angels' childhood for them.
They really enjoyed their cousins, and oh did they dance.
Amazing how life happens in the kitchen.
And how they could care less if this old piano is in tune.
I might could find something similar to this in my old photos.
Oh, but certainly not this.
I just can't let my sweet angels forget this. Kids, you did the entire Insanity work-out with my love and Aunt Kelly. I am ashamed to say that you probably did better than I could have as I stood back and used my camera as an excuse not to join in.
And they cried and got in trouble a lot too. That's just how it is. But the happy times are what they will always remember. They will remember Grandmommy's back rubs. They will remember the shape of every room in this house. They will remember decorating the tree and putting up the Santas. Oh yes. It is here. Christmas...it's in the air.
And now we are home and the house is quiet. I must unplug our tree and turn out the lights. The children are anxiously awaiting the arrival of our little Elf friend. I must go to sleep so he can land on a shelf and keep an eye out on us all.
And whoever you are, as always, thanks for stopping by. A friend of mine told me that the people who love me do. So thanks...and I love you too. Good night.