I know you were thinking you dodged a bullet, not having to be subjected to a gazillion pictures of Ella’s First Christmas.
Wrong. You will pay your dues like everyone else. (I have no idea what these dues are).
Ella is horrified that you might not want to look at pictures of her. I mean, really.
Meeting Bart’s mom for the first time (this darling dress was sent to me by a lovely blog reader who just had her own baby this past week). Also, Ella can rotate her head a ridiculous number of degrees.
Introducing Ella to Bart’s little nieces (that one in the leopard print? I met her on my and Bart’s first date. I’ve loved her ever since).
Ella has a LOT of cousins from Bart’s side of the family (she’s number 17).
And only one cousin on my side. (Pay no attention to the two darling blond girls).
We tried to give Ella a little culture by taking her to an art exhibit, but she snoozed through the entire trip PLUS a trip to J Dawgs.
Breakfast before driving back to Las Vegas. Italian french bread with cinnamon syrup and marscapone cheese. Oh yes, I married into the right family.
One last picture before we left behind the snow.
Ella probably feels like she spent the entire trip in this contraption. Sorry.
Did I ever get tired of saying “Who’s got the bear bum?” No, I did not.
“Give me the toys!”
With Auntie Landen
My hair is very long these days.
I feel like this Christmas morning with Grandad could use a little music. “Chestnuts roasting on an open fire. . . “