On the weekend we drove into San Francisco for a party to celebrate my niece’s first birthday and my uncle’s fifty-ninth birthday. We walked in and Isabelle went off to play immediately. Alan watched her while my mom took Nathan. I hovered around for about ten minutes watching him until my mom told me to go get something to eat. I walked away and started loading up my plate. When I looked back, my mom was not holding Nathan anymore.

My mom had handed him off to some stranger, some strange woman whom I’ve never met before. I walked over to the strange woman and started to take Nathan and the woman’s like, “oh you’re the mother?” Me thinking, “ahh yes strange woman who is holding my child. I AM THE MOM and I do not know you.” I immediately put him into the wrap nice and safe so no other strange germy people would be passing my new child around.

But he wasn’t so safe after all. I was standing outside the jumper, at what I thought was a safe distance away, trying to take pictures. Some rambunctious kid, inside the jumper, rushed towards me pushing the wall so hard that he came out several feet banging into my camera which banged into Nathan’s little soft head. He started crying and a small lump formed immediately.

But why am I writing down all these distressing things. I don’t want to really remember germy people and annoying children. So let’s look at pictures of my family instead.

My mom and niece Zinnia

My dad and Nathan

My dad, Nathan, cousin Adam and cousin Cynthia

My nephew Ebow

Uncle Lawrence and Aunt Ada

My grandma

Cousin Alan

My sister Helen and Zinnia

Makes me realize I don’t really have a lot of pictures of my family and friends. Now it’d be nice to get pictures of my friends (I’m talking to you Bridgette).