I was not a family-oriented kid.
Give me the option of any family even or hanging with my friends,
I'd pick my friends in a heartbeat.
During a family vacation in my late teens,
I got so bored and annoyed that I rented a car and drove two states home
so I could hang out with my friends.
I was THAT kid.
But one of the beauties about getting older,
is one's ability to change.
And family means a lot more to me now than it ever did before.
This past weekend, my littlest sister graduated from highschool.
All of our extended family came in,
from NY, DC, Florida, and California.
Many of which I only see once a year at Christmas.
(we decided the men didn't need to be in this photo?)
Everyone arrived throughout Friday and Saturday,
culminating in her graduation party Saturday afternoon,
and then slowly departed Sunday-Monday.
Saturday morning my mother sent me the
(aka: the uncles and grandparents,
keeping to herself the aunts who would help with party prep).
We hung out, talked, joked, ate lunch, and then everyone dispersed to take a nap.
Aaron in his crib.
Grandpa on the couch.
Uncle in chair.
Grandma in guest bed.
And Adam and I chilled in the man cave with a beer.
The party was insanity. There had to be over a hundred people at my parents' house.
Thank goodness for nice weather so the teens could enjoy the bounce house outside,
and then the toddlers could enjoy it when the teens were out.
Sunday morning, Adam went golfing with his dad while I took Aaron back to my parents' for more time with my family.
Many of the relatives had dispersed to church and breakfast,
but I was able to sit around chatting with the aunts I missed the day before.
One of my favorite parts of the weekend
was watching Aaron interact with his great-aunts,
great-uncles, and great-grandparents.
People who only see him in my weekly "photo of the week" email instead finally got to see him in person.
His go-go-go personality.
His zero stranger danger.
And his preference for people other than family take him to potty.
The look on my college-age cousin's face when he grabbed her hand and requested "poop?" sent me into stitches.
If you asked 18-year-old Emily about this weekend,
I would have rolled my eyes and mumbled something about:
But as 30-year-old Emily with 2-year-old Aaron,
I really enjoyed it.