Home is Where the Pierogies Fry

On the Wednesday before Easter, I bolted out of work, running for the train that would bring me to SeaTac airport. A 'short' 4 hours later, I was home at ORD. I landed at midnight, so I don't need to tell you that not much happened that night.

Thursday was wonderful. I was able to spend the morning with my family as my cousin and aunt made their infamous pierogies (they made over 300!!). While they stuffed and rolled, I watched and played with the kiddos. I'm very helpful.

Wearing, undoubtedly, his favorite shirt from Auntie Lisa.

That afternoon, I went to the pool with my mom where we were able to catch up in our favorite place.  

This is a fitting time to mention my (belated) April Fool's... After my Dad's cruel April Fool's joke (below), I decided payback was necessary. When you deliver your April Fool's joke on April 17th, they never see it coming!!! I bought a very strong temporary tattoo and laid it in plain sight for all to see: a mirror image of the word BLISS. No heart attacks but some solid reactions. It was meant for my dad, but the rest of the family was just a glorious bonus. My aunt is praying for the thought of a tattoo to rid my mind; thanks Aunt Connie.  :)

Payback.

Friday was Christina and my girls' day. Shopping, manicures, movies, snuggles, the works. That evening was spent as all Good Friday's are - at my parent's place decorating eggs and cookies like CHAMPS.

Saturday was the Easter Basket blessing followed by a million, delicious fried pierogies - and that was just my portion. It felt so comforting to be surrounded by my family again.

Possibly my favorite picture with Addyson.

Maverick wanted to play Dominoes too.

Sunday continued with tradition. We all went to mass in the morning, had breakfast at my parent's, and then went to my cousin's to chow down on some more pierogies (usually a lot less than the day prior). More cherished family time together spent drinking beer, chatting on the patio, enjoying the 80 degree weather! 

The Best.

Packing that Sunday night felt very odd. I was at home, and yet, I was going home. That was the weekend that my move to Seattle started to feel official.