**WARNING: There are massive amounts of photos in this entry.  But they're mostly of Miles, and we just can't get enough of him.  Proceed.**

Last weekend we drove all the way out to Mitchell to see the SD wing of our family.  It is kind of a long haul, but in (almost) five years since we've had kids, it was the shortest road trip we've ever had to Mitchell, making it a MAJOR MILESTONE.  The main point of our trip was to be there for Miles' baptism on Sunday, but we spent most of the terribly cold weekend inside doing our favorite thing - hanging out and looking at Miles.


We shared Miles a little bit, politely telling each person when their turn was over and it was time to pass Miles onto the next person.  Here's Carrie's sister Wendy and Wendy's daughter Katie taking a turn:


And here is Wendy's other daughter Jill giving Miles some love:


Grandma Jane had some turns, of course:


Carrie's dad Tom (or "Santa" as he introduced himself to Sophie, who was thereafter VERY well behaved around Tom) tucked Miles into his arm while he chatted up Martin:


Sophie whispered secrets into Miles' ear, which of course we could all hear.  The secret went something like this, "Hi Miles.  Hi Baby Miles."


Miles is a hip little baby with his cap and "snowmobile rentals" onesie:


When we arrived on Friday we celebrated the February and March birthdays while we were all together.  Martin received a new doll named Steven to add to his collection of Power Rangers and army guys. 


He was very quickly renamed Barack and my dad and Marty spent quite a bit of time talking about how they wished they had a Barbie doll who could be renamed Hillary so that they could have a mock debate.  Political politically incorrect jokes - such a good thing to teach children.  Miles heard their jokes and he didn't think it was funny.  He's for change.  Or to be changed, I'm not sure.


And also, my dad plays with dolls.


Stephen made his way around over the weekend, spending most of his time with Sophie.  She liked to comb his hair and help him with his sunglasses.  But for awhile they weren't getting along.  Here he is kicking Sophie in the leg:


The baptism on Sunday was lovely, and like at every important event, I cried.  But I was in good company, because at one point I heard my mom say from the other end of the pew "Am I the only one who cries at stuff like this?"


My mom and I weren't the only ones crying, we were just joining Miles, who was so good and only cried a little bit.  Probably less than mom and me, but his tears were definitely more endearing.


Here are the Mitchell Three, Miles with the baptismal gown that has been in our family for 115 years, first worn by my Great Uncle Al.


And here they are again, this time with my kids in tow.  Martin showing everyone his button-down shirt, I guess he must have thought it would make for a better picture.


It's a good thing we were there for only a few days, just imagine how many photos I'd have if we'd been there longer.