Our church had General Conference this past weekend. For those of you who aren't familiar with this, it means we get to stay home on Sunday and watch church on TV. No having to force the boys into the shower and then drag them out 30 minutes later. It means I don't have to force my soft and puffy self into nylons, it means dad makes his awesome breakfast burritos and it means that the kids and grandkids come over.
This past weekend was a little different in that my daughter Karly and her hubby were in Chicago and were not with us on Sunday, but her girls were with my other daughter, Kristin who took care of them for four days.
Kristin's family, plus two, showed up at 9:45 in the morning and left at about 8:30 at night. That made for a grand total of nineteen people, including two grandparents, here for the day. And lets not forget about the dog. Here's how it went, we had six instances of not making it to the bathroom on time, several diaper changes, two bloody noses, assorted bumps and scratches, arguments and yelling, spills and fussing babies. We also had great laughs and snuggle time with grand kids and a few moments to console and to teach.
The house shakes with the noise of so many people in one space and sometimes we wonder what the neighbors must think, but I wouldn't have it any other way. When my little granddaughter comes up to me, out of the blue puts her arms around me and says, "I love you, Monna." Well, I can't tell you what that does to me. We didn't get to hear a lot of the talks during conference, but we got the meaning behind it. It's all about the family. And apparently dishes, I ran my dishwashers three times.
1 day ago