Before moving back to the States G and I took one last trip over to Belgium. One of my absolute favorites things about living in the UK was our proximity to my family- it’s been so fun spending as much time as we have with them.
So here’s the little bruiser. (PS-sometimes, it’s just fun to stay in your pjs all day long)
And here’s the little artist.
She takes her work quite seriously.
And, lastly, here’s Granny and GG trying to soak up as much grandkid time as possible. Look at GG’s face- now there’s a lady who’s enjoying her arts and crafts time!
So… here’s a little something you should know about my side of the family. We have strange family traditions. And we kinda like most of them. I’m not really sure why we don’t stick to the basic, regular ones that every other family has, but those ones never seem to stick.
Here are a few examples:
- We never had Santa Clause, because my mother didn’t believe in lying to her children. We do, however, have the Christmas Mouse (who is real and pops up about a week before the 25th and gives daily candies and gifts every glorious day). I don’t really care one way or another if G wants to tell our kids about Santa, but the Christmas Mouse? Non negotiable. That furry little one will be alive and kicking for generations to come.
- We have strange nicknames. We never actually call each other by them, or rarely use them in general- but we are all very aware of them. And the brother and I have had them since birth. They usually come out when someone is hand writing a note or giving a gift- and instead of writing the name, they draw a picture of the nickname. I won’t tell you what they are, but I will give you a hint: they are all either flora or fauna that is found in Australia. (And I would be surprised if my husband or my sister in law knew about them. We keep it pretty low key)
- Thanksgiving doesn’t necessarily occur on the third Thursday in November. It happens whenever we manage to be together in one place- and it doesn’t really matter what we eat so long as there is a specific type of sweet potato pie, cranberry dessert, and corn casserole. If these three things are not on the table large amounts of griping happen, and we remember those years as being the “worst Thanksgivings EVER" (not a quote from the dramatic women in our family, that’s from the calm and collected older brother). I swear, we could be stuck in a tent in a blizzard, but Thanksgiving would be deemed a success as long as those items were present.
- Saturday mornings, Dad takes the brother out for breakfast. Sunday mornings, Dad takes me. Mom? Oh, she gets to stay home and eat cereal. (I never said they were fair traditions)
- And the newest family tradition? Somehow my mother has decided that my husband cannot celebrate his birthday without the presence of cake cut into the form of a ship. Or boat. Whichever.
This year she opted for a chocolate rice krispie boat cake.
Can’t you tell? (we took the sails off before the candles- floating in frosted waters- were set ablaze. Nothing more dangerous than a boat on fire)
I’ve mentioned this earlier, but my brother is a pilot for the Air Force, and currently he has the sweet job of flying around in a Gulfstream 5- which is “airplane" for really sweet wheels.
Check her out!
I think she’s awfully pretty.
The last time I was in the plane, we weren’t “allowed to touch anything." (Rob may have just been talking to his daughter when he said that, but I figured I should probably obey as well. Ok- so I may have touched a couple things.) But this time we were allowed to “walk freely about the cabin."
Do you know that they have a phone on there that is a direct line to the White House? Now that’s just cool.
My beautiful momma.
