After our romantic night at Ross Bridge, Mr. Smith, H, The Pooper and I headed down to T-Town for the long holiday weekend. Our SUV literally looked like a bedouin tribe; I swear I packed enough for a week.
And don't think for one minute that The Pooper didn't have shotgun, and H & I shared the backseat.
Upon arriving, we quickly dropped off The Pooper with the grandparents (thanks y'all!) and headed over to arrange a betrothal between these Falcon babies.
As you can see, Mary Charles is a smidgeon older than H.
But I think H may like cougars, as his daddy did, so we'll go with it.
Falcons: The Next Generation
Rehearsal Dinner Picture: Year 2036
I was also glad to run into this lovely lady this weekend! And by run into to, I may or may not mean that we drove past her family on McFarland Blvd, and I proceeded to stick my head out of the window and flag them down, whilst yelling "Hey y'all!" Classy, I know.
They're from Connecticut, so I'm sure they were slightly alarmed.
Miss Burch-soon-to-be-Mrs. Wetmore is a cherished sorority sister.
Grand-little sorority sister, to be exact.
I take these things seriously.
Isn't she a natural?
Is it just me or does H look like The Godfather?
The Tour de Baby continued on to the Smith's Neighborhood Block Party.
H was clearly the life of the party.
As you can see.
However, he did wake up, absolutely hangry.
(Angry b/c you're so hungry. Get it? You can use it if you want to.)
So we headed to the grandparents' and put on our new froggie footed pajamas.
Sunday morning, we attempted Church and were successful again!
Ignore the bags under my eyes. I've got an 11-week-old, you know.
You're lucky I've got matching clothes on, ok?
H did great sitting behind the fabulous First Presbyterian Choir, until he pooted - quite loudly, might I add - during silent prayer time.
I'm pretty sure people thought it was me.
You sign up for things like that with mommyhood, I guess.
Cute outfit right?
Praising Jesus exhausted H and Mr. Smith, so they took a little nap afterwards.
Later that day, I changed H into his Fourth of July outfit, and he quickly hammed it up for the camera and family members at the scrumptious dinner the Smiths have been preparing all day long.
My attempt at a Family Picture.
Hey - we tried, right?
I wanted to make sure I captured both my boys' patriotic looks.
But H was "over it" very quickly.
I mean... who doesn't like to have 23459 pictures taken of oneself?
So his Grandpa T rocked him to sleep and talked some baseball... and all was well with the world.