I am obviously related to Voldy, too.

*ALERT: FIRST WORLD PROBLEM BELOW* 

I’ve been feeling terribly stressed about writing this post.  There are so many pictures and stories and things to convey!  Should I break it up into days of posts?  Should I ball it up into one gigantic monster and wash my hands of it, once and for all?  Would people fall asleep, right on their keyboards?  Will I get comments complaining of eye strain and the resultant keyboard malfunctions of the previous sentence?  You can see my dilemma.  (Almost as big of a dilemma as actually remembering how to spell ‘dilemma’.)

Let’s try something, shall we?  I’m just going to go for it.  And you are going to pretend to be surprised because we all know this is what I do every time, anyway. 

Ok.

I took Olivia to the Williams Family Reunion this week.  This is my mom’s side of the family, featuring my grandma (grandpa passed away some years ago), the seven Williams siblings, their offspring, and their offspring’s offspring.  Enough of us that I have a hard time keeping track of how any of them are related to Olivia.  My cousin’s daughter, for example.  Wouldn’t my cousin’s daughter be my own second cousin?  But then what is my second cousin to my own child?  Does anyone actually know?  Is this where people start throwing in ‘twice removed’?  Could it be ‘thrice removed’?  And what happens when it gets to four?  It wouldn’t be ‘fourth removed’, right?  But then what would the word be for that number?  And does anyone feel like I’ve used more than my allotment for question marks in a single blog post?

SO!  Monday morning, I woke Olivia at 6:30 A.M.,  Alisha picked us up in her car, then we hopped on a train to reach Salt Lake City for the Days of ‘47 parade, where we’d join with some family.  Utah has a holiday named Pioneer Day to commemorate when the pioneers first reached the Salt Lake Valley; there is a big parade and people get another opportunity to light themselves/their houses/random fields on fire because fireworks are legal again.  Hooray!  Pioneers!

We could have easily driven the whole way, but I knew Olivia would think riding on a train was the grandest of all adventures.  Plus, arriving just a block away from our spot in the parade without having to find parking was a definite perk.

She sincerely, thoroughly enjoyed it.

Olivia had never been to a parade, so I was worried she’d get bored, tired, hot, or grouchy.  Even all of those at once.

My cousin Angie in the right corner with her sons, Hayden and Torrin, my uncle Marc, me, baby Grayson, Olivia, Alisha, Aunt Jan in the hat, Uncle Kent, and Uncle Randy behind them.  Just FYI.

I will never, ever be fortunate enough to get seats like that for a parade again.  We just walked right up to where my aunts and uncles were stationed and plopped down into our perfect seats in the very front.  It was awesome.  The weather was overcast and breezy, completely perfect.  It even drip dropped on us for a second, which felt heavenly.

We love parades!  Olivia did really well.  She stayed entertained up until the last five minutes or so.  Suddenly she was very bored, but just as I was deciding how to deal with it, the parade was over!  So we hopped back on a train and headed home. 

She HATED the bands.  Thankfully she had a personal ear coverer waiting in the wings.

Monday afternoon, we drove up through the canyon, past Heber, to a little campground called River’s Edge.  I don’t even know how many cabins our family occupied.  Probably a lot.

Ours had a cute little deck overlooking the river in our backyard.

O and Rus enjoyed the view.  I almost just said they look like an old married couple sitting together until I realized they’re cousins, and that’s creepy.  So, instead: Here they are, looking like old, married to other people (to whom they are definitely not related), cousins, enjoying the view.

Me, Michelle, and that chubby legged baby Thomas.

The kiddos made a little bed in the closet.

And ate oranges by the river.

That night we had a family meeting.  Olivia was terribly bored, so I handed her my camera.  She took 40-something pictures, mostly of my stomach and derriere (which I’m not sharing, and I can tell you’re disappointed!).  But she got this one of her terribly filthy feet:

I didn’t realize the campground was mostly dirt, so I only brought sandals.  Our feet were really dirty, is what I’m saying.

The next day brought a river rafting expedition for those without young children.  Michelle and I couldn’t go with our little ones, so we met them at the end.  It was the windiest day ever of all time.

I brought my mis-matchy  jacket as kind of an afterthought, but I was so thankful I had it!  My ruffle on my shirt was waving around like an extra patriotic flag the whole time we were there.

Can you get over how awkwardly I am holding her right here?  I look like Voldemort would, if he were to hold a small child for a picture (HP7part2 joke!).

My Grandma, a couple aunts, an uncle, and some cousins after their trip down the river.

We went for a hike later that day, when the wind got a handle on its dramatic self.

Here are the kids with my mom (who saved the day by going back to our house for closed toed shoes for O). 

I was not optimistic about Olivia’s ability to hike.  Sister is the biggest walking wuss I’ve ever met in my entire life.  She cries after climbing up a couple stairs sometimes, I’m not even kidding.  We had a serious discussion before we embarked about how I wasn’t going to hold her, she would have to walk, and she’d ENJOY IT, OK??

Michelle, my dad, and Thomas.  Thomas is the one in the sling, to clarify. (you’re welcome.)

I was so impressed with Olivia!  We walked for a really long time.  Bugs were gnawing on us, the sun was battering us, and the trail was really overgrown and uneven, but she hiked on her own little legs like a champ.

She asked to be held, right at the very end, so I picked her up for maybe three minutes, then insisted she continue the rest of the way.  I felt a little twinge of guilt when I saw the blister on the back of her heel.  She was so proud of that blister.  A battle wound!

I wouldn’t blame you if you thought he was the cutest.

My family minus Matt, who went home because he tossed his tacos at least three times.  I think I just made that phrase up, but I’m trying to tell you he was throwing up everywhere.  I maybe threatened Olivia’s dessert to get that smile from her.

The incomplete (meaning a zillion people couldn’t come this year) group shot of all who could make it:

Here are some of us the morning we had to leave.

I’ve suddenly become aware that this stance does nothing for me.

See you again in 2013, family!  I can’t wait.