…just waiting to be uploaded to my iMac.

They are our reminders of the last eight days, all that’s left of our Atlanta trip.

Well, not ALL that’s left.

We have three kids who are in need of a decent night of sleep. Six cousins sleeping in one room means only one thing, really. No one is falling asleep before midnight and no one is asleep past 7am. Also, nobody wakes up in the same place that he or she fell asleep—kids end up in parents’ beds, on couches, on the hardwood in the hallway.

We have ticket stubs from two movies—We Bought a Zoo and Chipwrecked. The first was amazing, I cried my fool head off throughout the entire film. I was surprised by how much more I enjoyed it than I had expected to. When I saw the previews I was all, “Really, Damon? This is the best you can do?” but by the time the movie was over I was all, “Matt Damon! I love the heck out of you, even your slight wattle.” The latter was less than amazing, but I really can’t complain too much, as I fell asleep about 3 minutes after the chipettes whipped their tails back and forth. Unexpected nap for the win.

We have American-bought Mucinex and Tylenol, reminders of the 103.3 fever Miss Emily had.

We have fascinators that are worthy of a royal wedding.

We have an extra ten pounds.

We have receipts from no less than eight trips to Target, the only place I did any shopping while in the states. I bought incredibly exciting things like $13 hoodies (to complete my WAHM outfits) and socks and Barbie underpants and Chocolate Chex.

We went to Mighty Jumps and Zoo Atlanta.

We shed some tears and rallied around a sick dog. (Another state dog, but this time it’s Montana and not Indiana.)

We had Chinese and Italian and Mexican and CPK and Chick-fil-a and Flying Biscuit and Dunkin’ Donuts and frozen waffles and hot dogs.

We played UNO and Wii and Cars dominoes and Barbies and Lalaloopsy and squinkies and princesses and American Girl dolls.

We played Settlers of Catan and Ticket to Ride and Ticket to Ride Europe.

We sang the “pee pee in the potty” song and celebrated successes with brand-new underpants.

We had an 80s dance party, complete with Rick Astley and Paula Abdul and Michael Jackson and George Michael and Tiffany and Culture Club. We made Emily cry. “If it’s from your generation and it wasn’t on Glee, it’s bad.”

We had a very, very happy MawMaw to be with her six very delicious grandbabies.

We can’t wait for next year, when there will be seven.

(NO. IT’S NOT MINE.)