Way Awesomer

Wow...would you look at this...my blog is still here. 

I've dropped in to say, "Hi."  Many of you have been really sweet about missing me.  Though those of you who actually know me, and see me in person, (and by in person, I mean on Facebook, because let's be honest...I don't get out much), I know it is not me you are missing when there is no blog.  It is the blog.  Which is a way awesomer.  

But, I am rusty.  (I can barely type anymore!  I had to ask Hubband where to find that exclamation point.)  And, I feel like I need to catch everybody up before I just start posting again. 

So, let's catch up!  (Found it myself that time.) 

September to January is our busy season.  And this is why...

There's school.  I do that at home.  You might remember this big day back in mid-August.

Then in late September, we celebrated Sam's birthday.

If you think he has a blue smile, he does.

That used to be Cookie Monster.

Then, two days later, I left on vacation.  All alone.  [A hush falls over the room.]  Well, not completely alone.  My mom and I went on a whirl-wind cruise of New England and Eastern Canada.

It was awesome!  I finally got to meet Boston, and my friend Jane, and the Rockettes (yes, in Boston!), and my first Dunkin' Donut, and Canadian airport security.  I was nude-y scanned and they took my maple syrup.  There is a lot of story here.  But, I should save it for another day.

By the time I got home it was October, and we had to catch up on school.  This involved, baking an apple pie...

..."churning' our own butter...

...and, some "real" work.  Like building and using an anemometer. 

There was the annual apple picking trip...

 and the annual pumpkin patching trip...

and the annual Halloween.

In November, Cate turned three.



We celebrated by taking her to her first movie.

Yes, she look a little manic.  She's drinking a soda, and eating popcorn, and watching the biggest TV she's ever seen.  And, it's her birthday.

We had Hubbnad's family stay with us for Thanksgiving.  I cooked.  The turkey was dreadful, but the sides are always more interesting than the bird anyway.  My oven has never been so proud of itself.

After Thanksgiving things slowed down a bit.  There were only three more weeks of school until Christmas break, when there would be time to breathe.

So, we decided to move.  On the tenth of December, we decided to move on the nineteenth.  We could have waited until the first, but I thought I would rather spend my school break unpacking the new house than living half-in and half-out of boxes at the old house.  It sounded reasonable.  It would have worked too, if it weren't for that meddlesome Christmas.

We spent it at my mom's which made it easier.  And, Nana enjoyed having all of her grandkids under one roof, and they enjoyed being there, even if you can't tell from the best picture I could get of the four of them.

We rang in the new year with family, and more family.


Then Jonah turned 7.

Notice how there are no pictures of Jonah's birthday party or cake?  That's because he had neither.  We chucked him a new box of Legos, and told him we'd make it up to him next year.  Okay, so it wasn't quite that bad.  We did celebrate the way he wanted to.  And Hubband and I promised each other that next year, we will pace ourselves.

Well, that's it.  You're caught up.  

Also, I have widened my page to allow for bigger pictures.  I am interested in feedback.  Is it too wide to read?  Are the pictures too much?  If you have an opinion, please, don't keep it to yourself.

There Ought to be a Law

In California, where I live, you need permission from the government to do almost everything.  To drive a car, you need a license.  To ride a motorcycle, you need a different license.  Your car and your motorcycle each need a third and fourth license of their own.  You need permission to open a business.  If that business sells food, you need another license.  If  it sells liquor, you need license.  If it allows dancing, you guessed it, you need a license.  You can even smoke marijuana legally if you have the right license.

At this point, you may think I am on some political rant about how big government has insinuated itself into the minutia of our lives.  But, no.  This is about Halloween candy.

You should need a license to buy Halloween candy.  And I don't mean the mail-in-or-pay-online kind that you need to become a certified navel piercer.  I mean the kind you need to carry a concealed firearm.

There should be a back ground check, complete with blood work, an assessment of need, and a psychological questionnaire, at least, if not a full profile.  Is the applicant diabetic?  How much trick-or-treat traffic can reasonably be expected on the applicants street, based on historical trends and census data (adjusted for the fact that Day Light Savings Time now ends after Halloween).  Has the applicant ever consumed twenty mini Recess Peanut Butter Cups in one sitting, or more than fifty in a twenty-four hour period?

These are questions we, as a society, should ask before we let people walk into Target and buy seventeen pounds of candy a full six days before Halloween.

That brings me to the last step in the application process.  A waiting period.  Successful applicants would be required to wait until noon on October 31 before making any licensed purchases.

You see, this, like seat belt laws and cigarette taxes, will allow the government to protect us from ourselves.  And, set a really good price for the seventeen sixteen and a half pounds of black market candy hidden in the back of my closet.

C'I Go To Halloween?

This year's Halloween story is a little late.  Sorry about that.  We've been busy recovering from old, and getting new, illnesses.

Last Halloween, Jonah was a boy obsessed.  He had poured so much energy into his anticipation, that when the candy bowl was empty, the last trick-or-treater had left, and I turned out the porch light, he was completely devastated.

This Halloween, it was Samuel who became fixated.  "C'I go to Halloween?  C'I go to Halloween?"  He started obsessing asking shortly after the Fourth of July.  "C'I go to Halloween?"  When the day came, and the answer was finally "yes," he seemed a bit taken aback.  I guess that's why he kept asking.

"C'I go to Halloween?"

"Yes, Sam.  You are in your costume."

"C'I go to Halloween?"

"Yes, Sam.  We are trick-or-treating."

"C'I go to Halloween?"

"Yes, Sam.  This is Halloween."

As the night wore on, he indulged his sweet tooth, pleasantly surprised that candy was part of the deal.  Even though he was fixated with the idea of Halloween, I don't think he knew exactly what that meant.  But, he soon found out, and he liked it!

Then came the moment I was dreading.  How would Samuel take the end of his new favorite holiday?  As badly as Jonah had?  I braced myself for tears, wailing, and heart-wrenching disappointment.  Just like last year.

"Samuel,"  I started calmly.  "We are about to run out of candy for the trick-or-treaters.  I am going to turn out the porch light.  When I do, that will be the end of Halloween."  Then I held my breath.

Samuel did not miss a beat.  "C'I go to Christmas?  C'I go to Christmas?"
____

We have since explained that Thanksgiving comes next, prompting the question, "C'I go to turkey, gobble, gobble?  C'I go to turkey, gobble, gobble?"

The Week in Kids

This week...

...should be called the week in vomit.  But, I shall spare you.  While it is true that I am blessed/cursed with the ability to see the amusing side of almost anything, even half-digested puddles of my son's dinner, you may not be interested in reading about it.  You probably don't want to hear the story that starts whith Hubband scurrying out of the bathroom with a wet baby, hitching his thumb over his shoulder toward the bathtub, and saying, by way of explanation, "Poop soup."  I get that.  So, I'll move on.

And, since I missed last week's The Week in Kids, what you are about to read may have happened last week.  I don't want to mislead anyone.  I'll keep moving on.

Also, this week (or maybe last)...

Cate got her first pig tails.

Also, this week...

There were costumes (that's their Nana with them)...

...and candy...

...and very happy children.

Also, this week...

Cate moved into a toddler bed, even before the age of two.  Just one of the differences I have found between boys and girls.  I kept my boys in their cribs until they were well past three.  Since they did not climb out, or use the "potty" in the middle of the night, I saw no reason to give up that control over them.  Sometimes, I just needed a safe place to put them.  Cate, on the other hand, is a little Houdini.  On Halloween night, I caught her in her bed (when we thought she was sleeping) with a lolly pop in her mouth, pawing through her bag of candy.  And, we have no idea how she got the bag.  She's not even TWO people.  We, her parents, are doomed.

Also, this week...

My children surprised me with their knowledge...

ME:  Cate, what do you have?
CATE (waving a shiny, silver disk at me): CD, CD.
SAM (not the be outdone):  And, EFG, too!

..and, their sense of humor.

While I was in the kitchen, doing the dishes, Samuel stood at one of the gates I use to keep his kind out while I do the dishes, and started to rant at me, an impish grin on his face the whole time.

"Got damage!  [Something inaudible] tell you twice.  [Something inaudible] tell you again.  Stop it!  I mean it!  No, no, no!  Got damage!"

Then Hubband pipes up from his place on the couch.  "Hey, I think he's doing you."

Gee, you think.  The little stinker.  Got damage, indeed.

Also, this week...

There was some nice "boy" play, involving no bloodshed, real or imagined.

Also, this week...

On election day, to be exact, my friend Marissa came over to watch the boys so I could vote and sleep, after a particularly difficult night with sick children -- who, by the way, were only sick at night.  During the day, when I was completely wiped out, they were full of their usual healthy vigor.  Brats.  But, I digress.  Marissa came by, and showed off one of her hidden talents.  Face painting.

You rock, Miss Marissa!

See you next week!!!

The Week in Kids, The Pictures

Last week, when I posted The Week in Kids, I did not have the pictures of them all dressed up in their costumes for the Fall Festival.  Better late than never, I've heard folks say, so, here they are.

Happy Halloween!

Okay, so I am a little ahead of myself.  But it has been unseasonably cool around here lately (80 degrees is cool), making me think of Fall.  Football, pumpkins, costumes...  Oh, how I love Fall.  And, as with Christmas, I think I enjoy the anticipation as much, if not more, than the event itself.  It is never too soon to anticipate.  So...I bring you these.

 Oh, do I know a little boy who would look good in this, even as he was knocking things off the counter, and younger children in the head, with those wings.

Even though the little boy himself would probably prefer this.

Yes, give a boy a sword and then pump him full of sugar.  Let the Crusades begin.

I know a little girl who might like to wear this.

 But not my little girl.  She has to choose between...

The Tulip Faerie, or...

The Lilly Faerie. 

I am going to dress her like this now, while I can, because I am afraid, that as she gets older, she might prefer Supreme Court Justice Faerie or Secre-faerie of State.  It is going to be tough, but Hubband and I are going to stand firm.  No princesses or liberals.

And, if I had a wee one this year, I might choose one of these.

All of these costumes, and dozens more, equally adorable can be found at One Step Ahead.  And they are not even paying me.

Halloween, Another Boy's Life Lesson

My son Samuel just turned three. This is his first Halloween of any consequence.

Samuel does not talk much, so we are never sure what he "gets" and what he doesn't. But, they must have been teaching him about Halloween at pre-school because he came home last Thursday (the 29th and his last day of school that week) with a small paper bag stapled closed. He carried that bag, still stapled, around the house saying "trick of trick ... trick or trick." Finally, he brought me the bag and said, "bag off." Off, on, open, close ... interchangeable to him.

I opened the bag to find two lolly pops and a plastic spider. (The teacher might tell you that she also put a "fun sized" Three Muskateer bar in there, but I will deny to my dying day that I ever ate, er, saw it.) "Lolly pop ... lolly pop." He had learned another new word. So, I unwrapped the lolly pop and gave it to him. He did not eat it of course. He carried it around the house. "Trick or trick ... trick or trick." It was sweet. Then mildly amusing. Then I was easily distracted by some bit of housework.



"Hey, Mommy." Sam had learned a new trick (or trick). The old lolly pop in the ear gag. Silly boy.

He dressed as a cowboy this year. We took him to Trick-or-Trunk at Jonah's school. He was very cute. He had a trick-or-trick and a thank you for every trunk. Then he looked around, saw the costumes, realized the grown-ups had lost their minds, and was ready to go home. We got him out of there just in the nick of time. He was about to lose it.



When the day itself arrived, he was very excited to get back in his cowboy costume. We made a brief stop at a party hosted by Abby, the best babysitter in the world. We got there early. The crowd was not huge. There were cupcakes and treats. Sam glanced around in a daze. It takes him awhile to decide if he is going to like a new situation, but this was a new level of uncertainty. He didn't even eat his treat. Though he may be saving it for later. There is still a nutter-butter covered in white chocolate and decorated to look like a ghost (with one bite missing) somewhere in our garage.

The next day, when he got up, he had a lot to say (very rare for him) and it went like this...

Get up. Get up, get dressed. Get dressed, cowboy. Get dressed, cowboy, Abby. Cowboy, Abby, cupcake. Cupcake. Cupcake. Cowboy, Abby, cupcake.

Poor kid. He's only three. What cold I say to him by way of explanation? Too little, too late. That ship has sailed. Next time, seize the day, live in the moment, get with the program while the program is still on. Three year olds don't speak cliche. There was nothing I could say. So, I gave him a hug and a kiss, and another lolly pop to stick in his ear.

Halloween, One Boy's Obsession

My son Jonah is four. If you ask him, he will tell you that he is four and three quarters. Both are true.

His obsession with Halloween began in early September. He could not get enough of it. He talked non-stop about costume ideas. He would gasp with delight at the sight of decorations in a store. He could sit still (not his strong suit by the way) for an hour looking at Halloween pictures on the internet. His favorite was to have me search Google images for "haunted cakes" thereby combining his current obsession (Halloween) with his previous one (fancy cakes).

So, this Halloween, I made him a costume. With my own hands and the sewing machine my Grandma Bunny gave me as a wedding present. He wanted to be a ghost. A sheet, some scissors, and a piece of elastic to hold it into place. Simple, right? Well, nothing is simple with Jonah. He has ideas. Vision. (Not visions.) He knew exactly what he wanted. He wanted to look like a real ghost. A lengthy metaphysical explanation that there are no such thing as "real" ghosts, proved unpersuasive to this four year old. But, finally, the night before his school festival, amid much wiggling, we transformed him into a satisfactory ghost.

Friday was "Trick or Trunk" at school. His Nana and I dressed up as witches, decorated the back of the station wagon, and handed out candy and bouncing rubber eye balls. That was followed by the class pizza party.

Saturday was a long day. A long day of thinking about Halloween. A long day of talking about Halloween. A long day of looking longingly at others' Halloween decorations. A long day of begging Mommy and Daddy for "just one more" piece of candy. And then. Finally. It came. Seven o'clock and the first ring of the door bell. Oh, he was so excited to hand out candy it was tough to get him in his costume.

Our first stop was a party thrown by our babysitter, Abby. She was hosting kids from the high school group at church, and she invited us to stop by. So, we did. Abby is quite the baker and the cupcakes were extraordinary! So, we stopped, the kids had a cupcake, we headed back home.

Once home, Jonah was too distracted by handing our candy to trick-or-treat himself. In fact, when we ran out of candy, he insisted that we start giving out the candy he got at "Trick-or-Trunk" the day before. What a generosity of spirit!!!!

It was just a frenzy of door bell ringing and trick-or-treaters. And then. At 8:30. It all stopped. My husband blew out the jack-o-lantern, closed the blinds, and turned out the porch light. Halloween was over.

In all of the obsessive discussion, anticipation, and planning for this day I had forgotten one thing. To prepare my son for its end. It came quickly and without warning. He was devastated.

At first his face contorted into that grotesque pre-meltdown mask so familiar to parents. Then the slow wail. The first sob. Then the tears. He was inconsolable. It made my heart hurt just to watch him. How could I not have predicted this? I pride myself on thinking things through to avoid heartache and inconvenience whenever possible. I failed.

He did calm down enough to get into bed, but I heard him whimpering in there for quite awhile.

By the next day, all the neighbors had dismantled their decorations. Some of them quite elaborate. It was as if Halloween had been two months ago. But not at our house. We lit the jack-o-lantern again last night. And probably will again tonight. And I think I'll let the spider webs and ghost-on-a-stick stay out front just a little longer. It is the least I can do for the kid. He won't be four and three quarters forever.