Because I love Halloween and Candy Corn!

I only bought the candy corns to fill the little pumpkin candy jar in the kitchen, thus creating a festive center piece. Now, after only three days, I have eaten over half the jar all on my own. I love candy corn. I love candy corn almost as much as I love Halloween itself. Unlike my love for the dark holiday, my love for candy corn goes completely unrecognized all year long then all of a sudden the leaves change color and bam! I'm craving orange cone-shaped candies. But, awe, Halloween itself could last all year long and I would never tire of it.

My love for Halloween started back when I was just a little girl. My brothers adored the holiday and started preparing for it months in advance. I remember spending hours letting Kirt practice his garish makeup applications to my face, transforming me from a little girl to a dead victorian-aged ghost. The look didn't fit  well with the summer time, which made parading around outside in ghoulish makeup and costume even more fun for me.

When Halloween night itself finally arrived, I felt like a movie star about to hit the red carpet. Usually, my brothers had me (in full costume and scary makeup) standing in my parent's long windows upstairs, a green light luminating my eerie figure from behind. I would pantomime a desperate scream and slide my hands down the window as if trying to escape my  evil captor. It was always a big attraction. Children who came trick-or-treating in their rainbow bright and he-man costumes would stand under the window for extended amounts of time staring up at me in horror. It was all I could do to keep from cracking a smile and killing the whole effect.

Sometimes my brother, Troy, would dress as a mad-scientist and bring some real science "accessories" from his laboratory into the fun. One year, my brother, Kirt made my brother Ryan's face look as though it had been hacked to pieces by a meat cleaver then told him to hide in the irrigation ditch out in front of our house and slither up out of it whenever kids came trotting by. That one actually got us all in a little trouble later.

Halloween always had this way of bringing me and my family closer in a way that no other holiday could. Some families bond while sipping egg-nog and singing christmas carols, but a family as strange as mine, well, we bond over the screams of small children.

I love Halloween. I love the crisp air, the brightly colored leaves littering the walk ways outside. I love the spooky decorations and eerie black lights. I love the dusty old costumes and smell of pancake makeup. And, most of all I love being able to be someone else for a night. Someone uninhibited, who dares to be dark or strange or mysterious. I love the memories I have that  shaped my perception of this magical holiday. Memories I have of my brothers and I collaborating ideas to make a haunted house that could put any Hitchcock film to shame. Halloween reminds me of these things, and of us being together and happy and uncomplicated. And, of course I love it for the candy corn.

Silly Bandz and other annoying trends.

Are we done with these silly things yet?

What started out as a semi-cute little trend for kids, Silly Bandz are now driving me batty! I find these little rubber bracelets everywhere. They're all over the car, my living room, bathroom, I've even found some hiding at the bottom of my purse. And thats the least of the problems I have with  Silly Bandz.

I can't even tell you how many times my seven-year old has come home bawling over an unfair Silly Bandz  trade or whining that so and so has the glow-in-the-dark ones and why can't she have them. Feuds between my girls have ended in the mutilation of many of these bands. Personally, I can't wait until this trend is completely extinct. Luckily, for me,  extinction doesn't seem too far from the brink.

Many schools across the nation have already banned Silly Bandz from the grounds for being disruptive. With any luck the rest of the elementary schools won't be too far behind that ban-wagon. In the mean time, popularity of these stupid things does seem to be diminishing rapidly. I've only seen Brooke wearing a band once this month and that was because a friend at school gave it to her in exchange for a fruit snack. And my older child has completely grown out of them all together. This fact does much to ease my conscience every time I suck one of these bracelets up in the vacuum cleaner. 

So, I can't say I'll be very unhappy to see these things take their place in the book of one-minute trends along side the "M.C. Hammer happy pants" and slap bracelets of the early nineties. The only draw-back: What annoying, messy trend will be next?

The strange people I meet while working!

I work part-time as a phlebotomist, (I'm the one who draws your blood) So I see a lot of the same people when they come to get their blood levels checked for medications or whatever. Anyway, there is this one guy who comes in about once a month or so. He's quite tall, quite thin and very bald. He always wears scrubs, so I assumed he was coming straight from his job in something medical. His scrubs, however, are never just the typical solid colors you see most men wear, but have cartoon characters or race cars on them.

I never put much thought into this gentleman other than to mentally write him off as a weirdo, based on his choice of scrub tops, and eery habit of staring me in the eyes.  The other day, however I must have been in an unusually charitable mood because I actually engaged in friendly conversation with the man. What I discovered during our conversation was a whole new way of looking at life.

As I gloved up and prepared to poke Mr. Cartoon scrubs, he told me about the motorcycle accident he was in a few years ago.

"Yeah, the other guy got the ticket and I got life support." He said. "Since I woke up from the coma, I've just been so happy to be alive that nothing really gets me down."

Geeze, I was totally bummed out for an hour today because the pharmacy was out of peanut butter m&m's.

The gentleman went on to tell me that once he recovered well enough to leave the hospital he never took another moment for granted. After discussing it with his wife, he went back to college to work on a nursing degree. He now works at a Veterans hospital helping soldiers recover from their war injuries. I'm betting that his inspiring recovery story and genuine sunny disposition is better than any medicine he can dole out to these guys.

I asked him what the secret to being happy is and he told me to "love life". "Get out there and enjoy every moment. Play with your kids, take them on trips and experience new things together. Create that bond with them and raise them right because they are our future."

His words really made me think about how much time is wasted every day with mundane activities that really don't matter and all the moments that could matter slipping past me. How much time do I waste for instance, fussing over the toys on the living room floor when baby and I could be playing on the living room floor. How many times have I raised my voice to one of my older children when a soft tone would have been just as effective.

Mr. Cartoon scrub man will probably never know how much his words affected my mentality. He'll probably never know that because of him I was happier today and really enjoyed just being home with the children, cleaning off the inch of dust that collects on the top of the refrigerator. Mr. cartoon scrub guy will never know that its because of him that I remembered to love life.

I will leave you with the last thing Mr. cartoon scrub guy said as he left my lab and I arbitrarily told him to have a good day.

"They're all good!" He said, with a smile.

They're all good.

"Mockingjay" My thoughts. (spoilers)

So I finally finished "Mockingjay" last week.  This week, I worked tirelessly in an attempt to catch up on all the housekeeping that went neglected while I was sucked into the book last week. Today, though I should be cooking or whatever, I will instead use my time to jot down my thoughts on this national addiction that is the "Hunger Games" series and more specifically "Mockingjay".

I'm going to start by being brutally honest. I wasn't really into "Mockingjay" until the last half of the book when Katniss and Gale travel to district eight. Other than a few intriguing snippets of life underground in thirteen, nothing really happened up to that point. I'm sure Collins was merely using the first half to convey the feeling of sadness and loss as well as the uncertainty of starting over, I just think it dragged on a bit too long.

One of the most disheartening parts of "Mockingjay", for me, was Peeta's torture and mental hijacking. I could feel Katniss' heartbreak over what had happened to Peeta and the realization that he may never recover. Then, Collins masterfully twists this knife when Katniss is forced to recall her fond memories of Peeta in an attempt to help him separate his true memories from those that were hijacked. It was sad and horrific and very well done.

I thought it was interesting that Katniss had reservations about being the rebels' face of the rebellion. Wasn't this what she had been hoping for all along, a rebellion? I understood, better when she finally decided to go through with it and the leaders like Coin and Plutarch brought in the make-over team. It was a sickening deja-vu feeling. Here these people are trying to change the horrors the capitol had been reigning down on them for so long, then showing no better character.

Another very disheartening part for me, was the slow digression of Gale from spirited warrior to calloused killer. I had expected more from Gale and I was deeply disappointed.

One thing that didn't hurt as much as I think, Collins wanted, was the death of Prim. It was ironic and fitting that she end the series killing off the one person Katniss wanted to protect more than anyone else. She just didn't make me love Prim and so her death wasn't as jolting as it could have been.

Overall, the one feeling that stood out more than any other,  despite the supposed "happy ending" was sadness. Sad for the fact that in war there is no completely happy ending for anyone. Sad that this story was so true to the nature of human beings. That there is no end to what horrible things people will do to one another all in the name of money, or power, or entertainment. It makes you think, and wonder if a real life hunger game is not really that far off.

When Back to school is no longer fun.

So the first couple weeks of school went surprisingly smooth. I was even starting to have fantasies that my children were maturing out of their childish behaviors. Then, today happened and all my fantasies were horribly crushed. Okay, that was a bit of an over-kill. It was more like today happened and I thought, "Okay, now those are the children I know."

I think by the second or third week of going back to school the excitement of it all has worn off and nothing is left for the little darlings but the harsh realities.

Summer is officially over.
I do have to do my homework.
My teacher isn't as sweet and mild as I had thought, especially when I am doing obnoxious things.
I'm already bored of all my new clothes (and)
"Hey, my mom doesn't clean my room now that I'm at school working sooo hard all day?!"

Whatever the reason, my three school-aged children are no longer the little angels that were jumping from their beds before the alarm even sounded, eager to get to the bus stop, and helping each other find socks or whatever. No, today I woke up to retro-children, the Ash, Brooke and Matthew I have come to know so well.

Brooke couldn't find anything to wear despite the closet of clean clothes, some of which haven't even lost their price tags yet.

"But I don't like those jeans or those shirts!" She wailed.

"Well, I guess that's because when we went school shopping, you were more interested in playing tag through the store rather than to settle down and pick out some bloody clothes." I spat through clenched teeth.

After wasting most of the morning, Brooke finally settled on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, ( never mind the rain). But the effort was too little too late, all three had missed the bus and Ashton was bawling about not getting star student for never being late or something ridiculous like that. But I stayed cool. I packed the baby up, handed out back-packs and herded everyone out to the car. Almost. We were halfway to the car when Matthew reminded me about his peanut butter and honey sandwich. Some how I have managed to raise a boy who insists on getting the majority of his nutrition via peanut butter, honey and chocolate milk.  Ashton bawled even louder as I headed back inside to whip up his lunch.

When we arrived at the elementary school, the "pull through and drop off lane" was packed with SUV's and mini-vans, undoubtedly other parents who are having the exact same crisis with their own children. I waited patiently for my turn in the drop off lane and almost breathed a deep sigh of relief as I slid the mini-van door open. Until....Matthew decided he needed a bottle of water.

"Sorry bud, I don't have one handy, but people are waiting in line behind us, so I need you to get out of the van now and go to class."

He adamantly refused. Reciting the phrase, " I want a water bottle", over and over like some kind of little robot.  So I just reached inside the van, grabbed hold of his waist and tugged him out. I didn't however, take into account the sheer size of the kids will or his strength. As I pulled him out, he grabbed on with all his might to the side of the van door and held on tight. I even heard a little snicker from the patrol woman standing near the entrance as she beheld the cartoon-like scene.

It wasn't a pretty morning, but at least everyone got to school. Matthew was a few minutes late to his class, and I'm ashamed to say that its because I gave up on the fight. After two or three minutes of embarrassment in the drop off lane, I stuffed him back in the van, drove to the store, bought him a bottled water and drove a smiling Matthew back to school.

Harrison and I then went home and took a long nap!

Happy Birthday Kiddo!

 Has it really been seven years  since I first held you in my arms? 

It feels like yesterday, and a million years ago all at the same time.

You were so tiny and delicate...and purple.

We couldn't believe all your red hair.

I'd never seen your father cry, not until that day when he first laid eyes on you.

He said he'd never seen such a beautiful sight.

Seeing how much he loves you 

how you enchanted him from the beginning. 

That is the most beautiful sight for me.

Screaming and healthy, you knew what you wanted from day one. 

"Careful," said the nurse, "This one's got an attitude!"

We laughed then, but soon discovered she was sort of right. 

And now you are still you, spunky and full of heart. Just the way I like you to be.

You are The best part of me.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY BROOKIE!

Summer chronicles: escape to the deep blue

With our central air being out of service for the moment, and possibly all summer long, the kids and I often find refuge from the heat at the pool. It takes a lot of sunscreen to cover all my little albinos, but it sure is a nice little retreat. 

Of course Matthew has to be all decked out.

We're still trying to convince Matthew that he doesn't need three or four different flotation devices in order to keep his head above water, but with little luck. 

underwater eyes

Some days we pack a picnic lunch and stay for hours! Not a lot of laundry or dishes have been getting done on our "pool escape" days, as we call them, but the kids have sure developed a healthier relationship with aquatics. 

All four have learned quite a few different swimming techniques. Even little Harrison will dip his face in the water, blow bubbles and kick around like a fish.

sea monster!

I'm especially proud of Ashton. At the beginning of the summer she was afraid to even put her face in the water, but now she's swimming very well and just keeps getting better.

Hawwison and his witto water weenie.

The best part of mixing kids with sun and water is that it pretty much always results in exhaustion! This means that once we've spent a good few hours horsing around in the pool all are ready to crash for a couple hours, leaving mom some time of her own...to do laundry, of course. ha ha!