This is a rare, five generation photo of Grace and her ancestors. (Are they still called ancestor's if they aren't dead?) We are so blessed to have such beautiful mothers. (And, four out of five of us share the name Irene.) It started with Opal Irene. We call her Poppop. She's the angel all in white. Sitting to her left (our right) is her daughter Billie Jo. Then, my beautiful mother, Karen Irene. Then me, Amy Irene, and of course, my little Grace Irene.
When I was a young girl, my Dad gave me a butterfly framed in a shadow box with the words, "A daughter is a little girl who grows up to become a wonderful friend." That shadow box now hangs in Grace's room.
Okay, here are Grace's cousins. From left to right we have Boston, Grace, Paige, Benjamin, and Jacob.
Here is Grace with her uncle, Matthew. He is reading her Dr. Seuss's "There's a Wocket in My Pocket." Grace and Matthew have the same birthday, August 28. I think she inherited his long eyelashes.
We woke up early one morning and went on a hike. Boy, was I out of shape.
My brother, Matthew, has always had a talent for song and rhyme. He can whip up a goofy little something about anything. When my little sister, Emma was a baby, Matt would make her legs go like she was riding a bicycle and say, "Garbage man, garbage man, I have to get more garbage," over and over again. It sounds ridiculous, but Emma loved it. During the reunion, we had the pleasure of hearing some new jingles. When we were in the pool it was, "Whirlpool, whirlpool, sing me a song. Whirlpool, whirlpool, all day long." When Baby Paige was upset it was "Baby Paige. Little mookie mage. I love you like a chooky, chooky chage." I can’t believe I still remember the tune.
My oldest brother, Brook, is a very talented chef at a Country Club in Missoula, Montana. So, he knows how to please anyone's taste buds. Even the kids were impressed because the second he got the candy dish they all swarmed over him. Grace even got in on the action, though she is normally shy around Brook since she doesn't get too see him very often. The only other time she got close to him was to drop dominos down the hole in the knee of his jeans.
Grace really likes breakfast. She likes wearing it just as much as eating it. Here I think we have strawberry yogurt, banana, wheat Chex, and Wheat Thins all swimming in fresh squeezed orange juice.
And this is how she tells me that she's all done: puttingher hands on her head and saygin, "Da Done." It sort of reminds me of topping the cake with frosting.
For Halloween last year we all dressed up as witches. I painted everyone's faces. Some turned out great, others, well... So, from left to right: Emma, Hannah, Tasha, Baby Will (who isn't actually a witch, but a cuddly little bear), Amy, Grace, Karen, Molly, and Brooklyn who is still in the womb. Molly's womb.
I thought Hannah's makeup turned out the best.
What a good little helper! Here, Grace is changing Baby Will's diaper.
He gets a pretty big kick out of her, except when she's snatching his binki out of his mouth or trying to poke him in the eyes.
I was so surprised when I took Grace to the little park by my parent's house. She climbed all over the equipment by herself (before, she needed me to hold her hand and climb around with her). Up the stairs and ladders, and down the slide. She wore me out just by looking at her.
This is a rare, five generation photo of Grace and her ancestors. (Are they still called ancestor's if they aren't dead?) We are so blessed to have such beautiful mothers. (And, four out of five of us share the name Irene.) It started with Opal Irene. We call her Poppop. She's the angel all in white. Sitting to her left (our right) is her daughter Billie Jo. Then, my beautiful mother, Karen Irene. Then me, Amy Irene, and of course, my little Grace Irene.
Okay, here are Grace's cousins. From left to right we have Boston, Grace, Paige, Benjamin, and Jacob.
Here is Grace with her uncle, Matthew. He is reading her Dr. Seuss's "There's a Wocket in My Pocket." Grace and Matthew have the same birthday, August 28. I think she inherited his long eyelashes.
We woke up early one morning and went on a hike. Boy, was I out of shape.
My brother, Matthew, has always had a talent for song and rhyme. He can whip up a goofy little something about anything. When my little sister, Emma was a baby, Matt would make her legs go like she was riding a bicycle and say, "Garbage man, garbage man, I have to get more garbage," over and over again. It sounds ridiculous, but Emma loved it. During the reunion, we had the pleasure of hearing some new jingles. When we were in the pool it was, "Whirlpool, whirlpool, sing me a song. Whirlpool, whirlpool, all day long." When Baby Paige was upset it was "Baby Paige. Little mookie mage. I love you like a chooky, chooky chage." I can’t believe I still remember the tune.
