The One Where Allison Rambles About Guests and Child-Rearing...

After Jesse's visit for the 4th, the front door just kept on revolving. I think this is one of my favorite aspects of this NYC experience.

July brought three more sets of visitors and one ridiculously adorable 2-year old to the Riley home.

Though I don't know we actually get to claim "hosts" to Tim and Kurt (but it was a lovely 15 minutes, sorry I never actually saw you again) and really, we just kept Kurt and Dani (I did NOT notice until just now there were two Kurts in the lineup) up until an unholy hour in our futile attempts to be social between meetings (please come back; we're more fun than this, I swear). So we managed zero photos and/or photo opps with the pairs.

But we got Danina (almost like Dani - this is getting spooky) and Brandon for an entire 4 days, and we had the camera in tow.

During their visit, Danina made a new best friend:

A man in a flag leotard front flipped over Danina and four strangers:

Brandon, infamous for causing scenes, causes a scene by trying to carry a suspicious bag into Yankee stadium; security was summoned:

The Yankees creamed the A's:

Noah found his namesake on the cathedral on 110th: We checked out one of our favorite campuses in NYC:

Noah stole a kiss at the High Line while my chin looked a little Leno-esque:
And they made us Sunday dinner, which means they can stay forever.

During Brandanina's visit, we also managed to babysit one incredibly easy-going, adorable 2-year old. And it took all four of us to do it.

Not because the kid was tough at all (in fact, we suspect there may have been a mild sedative in the apple juice, because truly, are kids normally this chill?). Quite the contrary, it's because I am still a little unsure as to how parents actually accomplish tasks. Superhumans, I think.

Because what do you do if one of you plays the organ and the other has to keep stepping out of the chapel for church duties? Well, leave her on the pew with Thatchers, of course. And who picks her up from nursery when one of you has a public affairs meeting and the other has ward clerk responsibilities? The Thatchers, of course. So now I'm convinced we need a good 4:1 ratio of adults to kids to make this happen.

Of course, three minutes of clear thinking tells me - dude, just take her to the meeting. But why is that not my natural inclination? Do I have a dormant gene somewhere that inhibits rational care-for-your-young thought?

Little T. - little did you know while we were splashing in puddles at Central Park after a summertime downpour and keeping you occupied with the camera feature on the phone while we ducked for cover during said storm, I was seriously pondering how on EARTH I'm going to ever keep one of you alive.

Okay, alive is probably a gross overstatement. But future Riley kids - please accept my sincerest apologies in advance for forgetting you in nursery. And while I'm at it, I should warn you - the house probably won't always be clean.