First off, someone snuck in at night and replaced my teeny, little babies with ginormous, big babies.
They grew, and they got huge, and now I'm about to pack up their second set of clothes (the 3-ish month-sized ones). (Even though some of the 3-ish month-sized ones still fit really well. And some of the 6-ish month-sized ones are too small, so they never even wore them because why would I have thought they would be in a 6-month size already? Seriously clothing companies, get your act together. I'm looking at YOU Jumping Beans.) And by "about to pack up" I mean "just as soon as I remember to buy another container to pack their clothes away in".
Second, and more seriously, my grandpa, "Pa", passed away. He died on June 12th, at the age of 88, after being diagnosed with Alzheimer's over a decade ago and fighting a tough battle for the last couple weeks of his life. He was a navy veteran, married to my grandma for 65 years, father to six, grandfather to twelve, and great-grandfather to another six. It seems like there's nothing you can really say that doesn't sound trite and cliche at a time like this. Even so, he was a great man, the funniest guy to be around, and everyone is really going to miss him. He had phrases-little one liners-for every situation in life. Christmas was "Smismas", his favorite drink was a "Manhootan", and if someone belched, he might say, "If it comes up again, we'll vote on it!" That or, "Good morning, Father!" They made boards showing 88 of these "Redderisms", and we were still coming up with more of them later.
His funeral was beautiful, and really represented who he was. My favorite part (can you have a favorite part at a funeral? I did.) was the military part of his burial. They saluted the hearse as it pulled up, played "Taps" in the distance, and folded up a flag which was then presented to my grandma. Again, I can't explain in words how unbelievably awesome it was, but if you've ever seen something similar, you'll understand.
Big Chip last year. Fun fact: I was five weeks pregnant. Though I didn't yet know with twins...
On the day he passed away, we were already scheduled to travel to Iowa for a golf tournament for Tyson's grandpa, who also passed away earlier this year. (We started out the year with all eight of our grandparents living, and now we each lost a grandpa. Life is weird.)
As much as I could never live in Iowa, you have to admit that this is a pretty sight:
Although keep in mind that basically the entire drive is like that, so...yeah. I realized that it's the first time in YEARS that we've gone to Iowa when it's green out, instead of in the dead of winter when it's just...white. And brown. But mostly white. Bleeccchh.
Hanging out with their aunt and uncle.
Caden taking a snooze with Grammie, who insisted that she absolutely, positively, did not fall asleep.
The twins made no such claims, though, and also fell asleep on Grammie's bed.
Tyson and I didn't golf, but hung out in the clubhouse with the twins during the tournament. They didn't seem to mind their confinement so much.
"Infant jail isn't so bad after all!"
And we watched Grandma, Grandpa, Aunt, and Uncle (Tyson's mom, dad, brother, and (new!) sister-in-law) play some of their round.
Also Tyson tried his hand at hitting a drive...
Let us never speak of it ever again.
I was sort of bummed at first that I didn't get to golf (since I'm the Girl with the Milks), but then this happened:
So...yeah. Those aren't golf balls out there, that's hail.
Oh yeah, and the twins turned four months old. (Official update to come tomorrow, after their four-months doctor's appointment.) (Probably. Because: shots. All the shots.)
"Dude, it's been four months. Is she still taking all these pictures of us?" (YES, because cute, coordinating crab outfits, guys!)
"Seriously, my hand and foot are so much more interesting than getting my picture taken."
"Caden, are you smiling? Is this a serious shot? What expression am I supposed to have?"
"Nonchalant it is then."