Happy Halloween!

We have been squeezing all we can into, and out of, October, wringing that towel for every pumpkin-spiced drop we can get. The week has been full: welcoming a childhood friend and her family into our neighborhood; putting the finishing touches on Halloween costumes; and making plans for a certain soon-to-be-four-year-old's (really!?) birthday. And while I have some catching up to do in this space, tonight I'm going to spend the last hours of October thinking of the weekend past and its sweetness, inside and outside of those candy bags.




You might recognize Audrey's costume. I made these wings from a pile of leftover felt back in March with plans of giving them to Audrey as part of a birthday gift. Then, a couple months ago, she informed me that she wanted to be a butterfly for Halloween this year. Not one to stand in the way of a Halloween wish, she received the gift early. Saturday morning, I covered a headband with felt matching the wings, and attached antennae by covering some thick floral wire with felt and twisting it around the band before sewing some pink circles (with light green circles inside the front pieces) on top. The costume made her sing, literally. She fluttered around the house Saturday morning sporting the wings and singing a made up tune. It may have been the before-bedtime sugar, but she woke up singing this morning, and those butterfly wings found themselves making a second appearance in, ahem, church.




Nathan spent his first Halloween buzzing about in this costume (actually he spent it sleeping in the little red wagon while his sister dashed through the neighborhood), made from a black fleece that once belonged to my sister. The fleece found its way into a pile intended for Goodwill a few months ago, where it sat, because, good as my intentions might be, I just can't seem to make it to Goodwill. Once I began brainstorming warm Halloween costumes for Nate, that fleece got pulled back out (sorry, Goodwill), which may be my best rationalization for procrastination yet. The fleece gained a few yellow felt stripes and a pair of wings fashioned from floral wire and a pair of my pantyhose that had a run in them (yep, he's going to love knowing that when he's older). One stinger and a hat made from the same fleece later, and he was ready for his close up (or at least, running away from it). Two sweet winged creatures zooming around your house? Precious. One full bag of Halloween candy for a preschooler ready to devour it? Frightening. Two memorable costumes without paying a dime? Priceless.

Fall in a Hot Pocket

The weather may be reading spring (complete with its crazy storms), but my appetite only sees fall. Fall with its emphasis on meals meant to warm, decadence that nourishes. As the leaves turn I begin to daydream about steam rising off soups and food stuffed in all manners of speaking. So when I ran across this recipe for Chicken Pocket Pies, they seemed like the perfect meal to kick off this last week of October. The crust comes together in the food processor. The filling is creamy and rich (we filled ours with roasted turkey leftover from a turkey breast Jason made over the weekend instead of chicken). I was a fan. Jason said he liked the idea, but something about the dish was a bit too tangy for him. He's requesting that the next time I make them, I fill them using my own recipe for chicken pot pie filling. Done.

Weekend

Fall makes me want to fill my shopping cart with the magazines lining the grocery checkout stand - the ones with spreads of fall tables decorated with fall foliage, grumpy-looking gourds, and desserts that quite frankly, deserve their own season. I want to pour over pages of handmade wreaths and garland strung from book-pressed leaves and imagine how I could turn the house into a pumpkin-spiced, gourd-and-foliage-filled wonderland of gingerbread house proportions (spirit-wise, not size). But something happens here around fall - things get busy. The days before important birthdays and holidays dwindle as quickly as chocolate on your tongue. We are forced to prioritize. We get down to the business of simplifying. And, just as often as I imagine myself taking the children for a scavenger hunt through the woods to collect the perfect materials for an all-out fall crafting extravaganza, I find myself doing a little bit of this, instead:



Scouring for a recipe for homemade play dough (this one using paprika to color the play dough orange from FamilyFun's October 2009 edition).




Scooping out pumpkins to be brought to life by tiny carving hands and glowing tea lights.




Roasting the saved insides.



And taking some time out to enjoy the rare warm weather, and chance to rest, right before the tickling match ensues.

Maybe we'll get around to that wreath and garland - next year.

For Posterity's Sake: Week in Review 92

Transitions and the Names by Which we Call Ourselves:

We have felt like a family in transition for months. All signs point to it: a change in management and focus at Jason's job; leaves in all colors and stages of decay scattered about the yard; house organization and reorganization projects planned; and kids growing before our eyes. Of course, nothing emphasizes transition more than a ten-month-old steadying himself on his feet for a few seconds for the first time, or a growing-out-of-her-three-year-old status daughter letting you know how she sees the world, or more particularly, how she sees you.

Audrey's transitions often involve a change in titles. I remember the first time she stopped calling me mama or mommy and referred to me as mother, for weeks. Wednesday, she tried out a new tag. She called me Big Mama. Nonchalantly. Almost in passing. Attached to some mundane phrase like, what are you doing, Big Mama?

By the afternoon, she had decided I was something else. It began with an altercation of sorts. Audrey was hanging upside down, her hair fair game to her little brother's fingers. He took advantage, grabbing a handful. When I told him "no," he loosened his grip. I told Audrey to step away. She body slammed her brother, instead. I told her to go cool off in her room. She refused. I gave her the option of going to her room or having a bag of candy she had been gifted tossed in the garbage. She didn't move. I tossed the candy. She decided I belonged there as well. "I'm going to throw you in the trash!" she said.

An hour later she had, once again, traded her vocabulary. "Mom, you are the best girl in the whole world," she said, spontaneously. I guess she decided to recycle me.

Audrey's problem-solving skills never fail to show me just how quickly she's shedding her toddler skin. She was invited to spend the night with a friend on Thursday night. Of course, her suitcase would not be properly packed without a favorite toy, or twelve. I told Audrey she could take two stuffed animals and one ball. She packed four bags and stashed them by the front door.

"You can't take all of those," I said.
"But I'm going to carry this one in my teeth, this one like a backpack, this one like this (slinging it over her shoulder) and this one like this (holding it out straight)."

Jason found it funny that when I said she couldn't take all of her bags, she heard, you can't carry all of those. I think, perhaps, I should stop trying to carry all my grocery bags into the house at once in her presence.

The weather has been playing tricks on the season, masquerading as spring, swelling our sinuses and causing us to abandon our plans (or chores) in lieu of a blanket on a grassy patch of lawn and bare feet. I'm taking my lead from the weather, grasping these days with full fists and holding on tight until we must move on to the next growth spurt or house project or tumble in a pile of leaves.

Finding the Corners

Today, I found myself finally buckling down and addressing a few neglected areas of the house - the ones I only realize exist after I've tackled the mountain of laundry and dishes that have hovered in our midst the past weeks (or what felt like weeks). And while these jobs tend to include sorting out bins of cleaning supplies or finally assembling (with the help of my handy toddler) the new compost bin that thought it had taken up permanent boxed residence in the garage, something about these days causes my eyes to wander. To the corners. The ones I miss through the piles. The ones that give little clues as to how we spend our days and craft our lives. Ones like these.

This first corner is typically empty. But, this weekend, I found it like this: an Audrey-created pile that told the story of our weekend. The suitcase from her sleepover at Grammy's. The bucket that typically holds our umbrella misplaced by a couple of kids playing "let's drag everything out of the hall closet." Two quilts, passed down from grandmothers, recently taken on a road trip for a photo shoot with the great-grandchildren those women never got to meet, but somehow found a way to love, anyway. While I knew I should, it took me days to dismantle this corner. Each time I walked past, it was like a breath of all things good.



And this. The other kitchen corner that regularly catches my eye: the windowsill above the kitchen sink filled with things Audrey loves. Rocks - some collected and one with a tag on it that seems to have mysteriously been with us a while. A feather mailed to Audrey by a friend. A cool blue pot whose color reminds me of a calm day filled with an aloe plant that, bless it, keeps hanging in there (and that I have used on more than one occasion after burning myself at the stove).

Our corners. Our quiet reminders of who we are and how we spend our time, whether or not the laundry ever gets done.

For Posterity's Sake: Week in Review 91

I didn't write anything down last week. No cute antidotes. No funny lines. Instead, I spent each minute hanging out with family, or chasing little ones, or going about the minute details of our day without taking those little breaks to capture the moments as they come. So, come Tuesday, I can only share flashes: how Jason said "Good morning, sunshine" and Audrey ran to look out the window because, being a pancake, naturally, he would only be talking to the sun outdoors; that "bolution [solution]" has become a common word thrown about our house as we teach her about problem solving; and that Jason got the third degree concerning who he was with one afternoon when he called to say he was coming home and referred to himself and Audrey as "we" and she misunderstood.

So, since I have such scant offerings for last week, I decided to let Audrey tell you a little about herself in her own words. From an interview at the dinner table last night:

Mama: What is your favorite thing to eat?
Audrey: Oranges

M: What is your favorite thing to do?
A: Kick a pickle to a hogs. That's kind of tricky for you. (Kick a pickle to a hogs is a paraphrasing of sorts from the book Silly Tilly).

M: What is your favorite animal?
A: Horseys, I think. And Piggies.

M: What is your favorite thing about being a part of this family?
A: Putting the napkins out and the drinks out and the forks out and the candle out (I think she means blowing the candle out).

M: What is your favorite book?
A: The Fancy Nancy book at church (it has stickers that you put on the pages).

M: What is your favorite drink?
A: Daddy's water (Propel, Mama's water - tap - is too boring).

M: What do you want to do when you're older?
A: I want to do the oven and the toys and the refrigerator.

M: What's your favorite thing about Daddy?
A: For him to throw a pickle to a hogs just like I do.
M: What do you really like about Daddy?
A: His nose. And mouth. And feet. And his eyes because they're blue. And his eyebrows and his ears. And he's so ticklish to tickle.

M: What is your favorite thing about Mama?
A: About you? Your fingers.
M: Why do you like my fingers?
A: Because look at this (points to my wedding ring). That's why I like your fingers. Did Dad give you that?
M: Yes.
A: Was I correct?
M: Yes.

M: What is your favorite thing about Nathan?
A: (Leaves to go check him out). I like his neck and his hands. And his nose.

M: What is your favorite thing about Emmy?
A: Her tail.
M: Why?
A: Because it's really pully and Nate can even pull it. (Which is why the children are not Emmy's favorite things).

M: What is your favorite thing to celebrate?
A: Presents and toys and some books. I thought you were asking what I wanted for my party.

M: What is your favorite holiday?
A: Christmas.
M: Why?
A: Because it's snowing and we can build stuff and we don't have to do it with sticks anymore. And Halloween.
M: Why?
A: Because it's fun and we can get more candy.

M: What is your favorite candy?
A: Dad's favorite and suckers. What is Dad's favorite? Dad, what's your favorite?
Daddy: I like Tootsie Rolls.
A: Tootsie Rolls? That's what I was talking about and I like suckers and dots.

M: What are you really good at?
A: Doing sports and putting candles in the water for fishies on a plate. (I have no idea what that means).
M: Anything else you're good at?
A: Yes. And at being brave. And at giving butterfly kisses.

M: If you could have a super power, what would it be?
A: It would be (begins jumping around the room spinning and flexing and making fighting poses).
M: Would it be to be super strong?
A: Yes.

D: What is your favorite thing about football?
A: Kicking the football.
D: What's your favorite thing about watching football?
A: Just watching it.

D: What's your favorite thing about dinner?
A: Mom is asking me the things. Mom, are you still asking me things?

M: What is your favorite thing about dinner?
A: Eating.

M: Is there anything else we should know about you?
A: My nose.
M: What about your nose?
A: That boogers come out and we can't eat it.

As for Nathan, he's not much of a talker unless his big sister isn't around. He likes to spend his time cutting teeth and is never happier than when hanging upside down. He's a snuggling extraordinaire and enjoys dining on fine pureed cuisine. His favorite pastime is outcrawling his parents and they chase him with clean diapers. He can't wait until his diapers are a thing of the past, oh wait, that's us.

Here's to little ones and the moments they make so special, the ones we catch and the ones we forget to write down. And to noses. Apparently, Audrey likes them. A lot.

A Little Catching Up

My little sister made an improptu visit from California last week. Like most good surprises, it had me leaving the dishes, the laundry, even the camera (except for one day trip to the orchard with all the cousins) be while we let the other parts of life seep in and rush over us. This morning, my sister and nephew caught a flight back to the setting of their everydays, while the rest of us began to get back to ours. I have some catching up to do, here as well as at home. But not tonight. Tonight, I'm catching up on a little something else. Sleep.