We had a lovely visit by 'Aunt G' early last week. The cousins all went down to Carolina Beach and played in the water for the afternoon. It was the first time the babies were taken out past the breaking waves and into the Atlantic. It's safe to say they LOVED IT. For some reason Mirabelle thought she already knew how to swim and tried numerous times to jump from 'Aunt G's arms into the water (who knows, maybe she already knows how to swim . . .).
Later in the week we packed up the family and flew to Rhode Island to attend cousin Alex's graduation. These were the first flights for our squirmy bundles. Everyone and every thing made it safe and sound. We did lose a locking mechanism on one of our car seats during the trip (surely it's not that important to the overall safety of the car seat).
While in Rhode Island we celebrated Dave's first Father's Day with a 3 lb. lobster and a trip to an Irish pub in Newport. Then we made a very important trek to Block Island. Not only is it the smallest town in the smallest state but it's also the place where Dave proposed to me almost 10 years ago (sigh).
Maybe it's divine intervention or just shear luck, but June has sailed through here faster than Octomom's fifteen minutes of fame. I'm truly grateful, really. I've no time to sit and ponder the magnitude of my sweet babies finally turning the big O-N-E (which most likely would have resulted in some form of an emotional catastrophe). Instead, I've only seven short days to begin hyperventilating and irrationally unplugging every clock within reach.
I'll try and redirect this anxiety into something productive like planning the most memorable birthday bash the twins are sure to forget.
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