Trick or Treat

Curtis as "Bones"

We attempted a group shot. It didn't happen.

Lindy

My two girls.

And now we have far more candy than any of us need. But we have three happy children.

Happy Halloween!

Happy Halloween!

A little trip down memory lane. This is Halloween 1979. Jeffrey is on the table, yours truly in the middle, and Wade on the right. As you can see, Karen went all out for this particular holiday...decorating every inch of our kitchen in a glorious pumpkin orange. (You gotta love the 70's.)

Post Edit: I should apologize for the lack of a little sister in this particular photo. She's there...somewhere. Probably being doted on by one of her parents while the rest of us were left to our own devices. Smooshing pumpkin guts in our hair, no less.

MEOW!

Today was Ellie's preschool Halloween party. She (and her sister) begged to be cats this year for all of the festivities. And here we have the result:

Isn't she cute? She had such a blast playing all sorts of games at the party. At the end of the fun and games her teacher gathered them all together for story time. I was able to catch photographic evidence that Ellie does, in fact, have moments of focus. Trust me when I tell you that this face of rapt attention:

is never directed at me.

My Boy

Normally I don't post pictures that include me. I'm much more comfortable behind the camera than in front of it. But what's a mom to do when she has such a cute little boy? Holly C. took our family pictures (big thanks, Hol) and she caught this near-candid moment with Curtis and I. From this picture you wouldn't suspect him capable of the numerous (and often successful) attempts at escaping confinement during our photo shoot. Trust me, I was nowhere near this calm...or smiling...during the ordeal. Luckily, we managed to catch a few great shots (which I really am working on posting).

What a cute kid.

Note To Self

Don't let Curtis have pens.

Crazy Hair Day

As part of Lindy's school's Say-No-To-Drugs week, they had a "Crazy Hair Day". After much deliberation Lindy and I came up with this awesome idea:

It looked great. And she loved it. Unfortunately a snowstorm blew in during recess and all but demolished her crazy hair. When we picked her up from school she had a perfectly normal ponytail. Bummer.

First Snow

You would think my Canadian upbringing would endear me a little more to the snow. It did not. As I remarked to someone earlier today, "Why do you think I moved south?...I just didn't move far enough south!"

So here we are. Snow in October. Disgusting.

Other members of my family apparently see things differently. Little Lindy eagerly dressed herself for snowman-building with dad. And, if I'm not mistaken, that's a HUGE smile on that face.

While I snuck out to snap a few photos of Frosty, Curtis managed to venture out (in sock feet) to satisfy his curiosity about all the white stuff on the ground.

Boy, is he going to love the winter time. I just hope he enjoys it from inside. Or at least in boots.

Fashion

On a whim I bought a mullet wig. It was on sale. (What would you do?) I tried it out on Curtis yesterday afternoon. He did NOT like it. For some reason, however, he refused to touch it. So he wandered around for a while, crying in desperation, as his mom snapped picture after picture of his adorable mulleted face. (I eventually had pity and took it off.)

(Notice how blurry the picture is? I seriously couldn't stop laughing!)

In other fashion news, someone please tell me why my daughter thinks these two colors create an "awesome" ensemble?

My Poor Sweet Husband

Last night Lindy and I finished the last chapter of Anne of Green Gables. As a follow up we watched the first half of the movie this afternoon.

As we reached the tearful scene where Anne and Diana are saying goodbye to each other, fated to never be "bosom friends" again, Ian plopped himself on the couch, rolled his eyes, and proceeded to complain about the dramatics of women.

Poor Ian. In a roomful of overly-dramatic females he is not about to gain a flood of support. After giving him my version of the "stink eye" I suddenly had a vision of the future...and it was at that moment I experienced profound sympathy for my dear, innocent husband. In 6 short years we will enter the teenage years...with two daughters.

He won't know what hit him.

Episode II

Before anyone accuses me of bad parenting...I'd like to point out that Lindy set it all up on her own. I just happened to arrive, camera in hand, for the grand finale.

She's a brave little girl.

Funny

Today I made a stop at The Dollar Store.

The guy in front of me in line holds an item up to the cashier and asks, "How much is this?" (And I assure you...he was completely serious.)

To which the cashier calmly responded, "One dollar."

I laughed the whole way out to my car.

What Curtis Has Been Up To

Remember when I was nervous about having a boy? Remember how I forgot about all that nervousness simply because he was just SO DARN CUTE?

Well...I do believe I recall now why I was apprehensive to begin with. Boys don't sit still. I mean it, they're always moving. Yeah, yeah, I know some of you already know this little bit of info all too well. I'm just saying that, at 18 months, Curtis has figured out how to keep his mother in a perpetual state of neurotic jumpiness. Caused by:

His newfound love of bugs (and other creeping things):

His independent need to self-serve from the kitchen cupboards:

His passion for bike-riding:

His habit of emptying each wipe individually from every container possible:

His compulsion for trying on others' shoes (a precursor to constant tripping):

And last, but not least, his erroneous belief that he is a Junior Spiderman:

I'd also like to mention that I don't have photographic evidence of him stranding himself on the bathroom counter between the wall and a sink-full of water, emptying all the dishes out of my kitchen cupboards, climbing the bookshelf, climbing into the fridge, jumping off the couch, jumping off the coffee table onto the couch, drawing on himself with a pen, diving in (and OUT) of the bathtub, OR peeing on the floor.

I do like to take pictures, but sometimes you just have to nip some things in the bud. Right?

The Tooth Fairy

It's been 68 days since we noticed the loose tooth. 68 long and dreary days of impatient waiting and wiggling. There were times I didn't think she'd make it...it was just too much to expect of a 6 1/2 year old. But...somehow she endured.

To be honest, I'm not sure the tooth was actually ready to pop out of that cute little mouth. And this is evidence of the impatience of my child: she simply couldn't wait any longer and actually allowed, nay, encouraged, her father to stick a pair of pliers in her mouth and yank the offending tooth out.

This yanking was followed by more blood than either of them expected, and some coaxing by her father to make sure she was okay with it all. But, as you can tell, the loss of the tooth was a victory to be celebrated. And celebrate she did. I don't think she has stopped grinning and/or showing it off since.

Congrats, kiddo! Save those "Tooth Fairy Quarters" for something worthwhile!

Nostalgia

As a kid I loved summers. And not just because school was finally out. I loved summers because I knew there would be a couple weeks spent with grandpa and grandma in Idaho. Mom and dad would pack us up in the pea-green Ford Maverik (yea...it was awesome) and drive 10 hours to foist us on our maternal grandparents.

Those summer days of my memory were full of magic. We would spend hour upon hour exploring the farm and all it's nooks and crannies, building dams in the river, catching frogs, sneaking fresh peas and carrots from grandma's garden, shooting cans off the fence with bb's, and basically living the care-free life of children. Grandma and grandpa were strict, but in different ways than our parents. And they did allow us little concessions that would never fly at home. My favorite concession was that each child got to pick out one box of cereal. Whatever cereal we wanted. And, as you can imagine, we came home with the most sugary-sweet box we could find. My brother's pick: Captain Crunch. Mine: Froot Loops. Seriously awesome.

The other day I happened to pick up a box of Froot Loops (because they were on sale and I'm not as smart as my mom). This morning I told the girls they could have some. I cracked into the box and opened up the bag. And, the second I did, the smell of those sugar-filled loops made me homesick. Homesick for the farm. Homesick for the smell of the woods. Homesick for my grandparents.

It was at that moment I realized that while I was having the time of my life, there was also a fantastic side-effect. I got to know grandpa and grandma in a way I never would have any other way. And I'm so lucky...and grateful.

Grandpa, I miss you. I know you're in a much better place, but the world isn't the same without you and your "bang!" to keep us hopping.

Grandma, it's been an incredible blessing to have you around to meet my children. They love you...almost as much as I do. And we all hope to see you real soon.

It's Hopeless

This evening, as Ellie was in her bedroom trying heroically to put on her jammies, I heard a sudden fit of foot-stomping. I walked in to find her confused and upset. She just couldn't match up the buttons and button-holes the correct way. Finally she turned to me, nearly in tears, and said, "Mom, it's hopeless!"

Luckily, mom has some serious buttoning skills or all would certainly be lost.