Domestic Bliss Report

Motherhood is hard work. If we don't stick together, we'll all fall apart.

Thursday, August 02, 2007

Reunions, reunions everywhere...

And only one is mine.

This month, we're heading back to the Northlands for Dale's family reunion. His parents are hosting it and his family is pretty un-stuffy and un-competitive. It's convenient (we can stay right down the road again), it's with good people, it's another opportunity to relax up there.
When I say "uncompetitive," that's a good thing.
Example: My grandmother and her sister both had grandchildren born the same day--I was one, the other was a boy. When I was not yet two, so my mom tells me, they all happened to be together. Grandma took me on her lap and put me through my paces: Heather, what's your address? Your phone number? Can you tell me your ABC's? What's your whole name?
I innocently answered all her questions. Aunt Margaret's grandson, sitting in his grandma's lap next to me, knew none of those. That's what I come from.

I'll get to deal with my own family Labor Day weekend, but mostly the competitive ones have died off. The stress, I suppose. At least the drive is short so we can escape easily; not really necessary with the in-laws.

Then next month we have Dale's high school class reunion in his home town. We'll be headed up again for that, though the kids will stay with Neema and Papa. I have no idea what to wear or if anything I currently own will both fit and be weather-appropriate.
I'll say, though, that I'll probably see more people I want to talk to than I will at my own two years from now. That's a good thing, right?



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