Visitors

We got to spend the weekend with my family. They came to watch my brother play baseball in a regional tournament in Fort Worth. It was one of the luckiest things of my life, right up there with getting serendipitous gift money at Boden, that the tournament was so close. Seeing my family is soul candy. Henry and I laid nose-to-nose and squealed (literally) with anticipation every night in his bed the week before they came. We counted sleeps 'til their arrival. We rehearsed our packing list - swimming suit, snacks, a baseball hat, new goggles, sneakers...
We couldn't have been more excited.

And then it was Thursday. And we were driving, packed sardine-like into our car with all the gear that children necessitate. And all the extra schtuff their neurotic mother feels compelled to haul (just in case).
We pulled up to the Embassy Suites and I could see them through the window - my siblings and parents and my soon-to-be sister in law. They were here! We were there! All of us together, under one 10-story roof, for three nights. Things immediately felt more right to me in that kind of proximity.

We hugged and squealed. We queried after each other's travel. We scoped out the pool and the "extracize" room (where we would amuse ourselves often over the next three days). We commented on the growth of Lily's hair and Henry's legs. And on the good-ness of being together.

We watched a lot of baseball. Ate a lot of food. Watched too much TV on too many channels (a novelty to two families who only get local network stations). We drove all the way back to our house and watched a little boy who would rather have been swimming at the hotel, play T-ball. We ogled the offerings of the Amon Carter Museum - Steiglitz, Homer, Russell, Remmingtom, Adams - lovely. We savored anything cold (lemonade, ice, wet-wipes) and thanked heaven for shade. We lamented the fact that number 13 didn't get much playing time. And the fact that the Beaver's season ended sooner than they'd hoped.

It was a little bit stressful - hotel-living, crowded restaurants and stadium-sitting - with two small children and one of our party (who shall remain nameless) who was excessively prone to irritability. But they were so good. I marveled ad nauseum about their sweetness and adaptability. And savored the extra hands to help me and hearts to love them.

Every dandelion puff and birthday candle knows that my (not so) secret wish is that my parents and siblings could be more present in the daily life of my little family.