We spent the long weekend celebrating the Fourth of July with my family. My entire family. For the first time in a very long time, all the people I’m related to were in the same place at the same time. This unintentional family reunion was equal parts crazy and fun.
The Fourth of July has always been my favorite holiday. What’s not to love? Sunshine, independence, and none of the pressure and drama of Christmas.
We ate tons of burgers, dogs, and linguica, played throw golf (a game my father invented) and sampled over 30 beers. We sat around a campfire, floated in the pond & lit off fireworks. We passed babies from hand to hand, introducing the newest members of the clan to those who had yet to meet them.
After the fun and tons of work that goes into a party for 50 people on Sunday, it was nice for the actual Fourth to be a little more low key – just my siblings & parents. And it was also nice to be home and shower in my bathroom and sleep in my own bed.
It’s so worth the effort to pack everything up and uproot for things like this. I want Vicki to know that, as much as her father and I love her, there’s a whole pack of people out there who love her, too. That’s why we do things like haul her down to New Jersey at 2 weeks old for a family wedding. And why we try to see her cousins as much as possible.
Writing this post made me stop and reflect a little about family and love. So, immediately after I finished the above, I told my husband that I wanted to cancel our anniversary plans and go to visit his parents instead. They haven’t seen the Vick since March and they have been
bugging us asking nicely when we could come down and visit. I’m excited to go see them and show them how big Vicki is and all the cool new things she can do. Plus, now we’ll get free babysitting for our anniversary dinner.