Ok, It's Confession Time...

I’m not that big on Halloween. Really, I’m not. I just don’t want to decorate for it, spend a whack of money on costumes, or have to get myself all dressed up. In fact, this year, I didn’t even buy any pumpkins *gasp*! not a single one! And I have been known in the past to buy pumpkins, and never even carve them *oh the humanity*! They just sat on my porch (and one year in my garage) and rotted, until one night some neighborhood kids smashed them in the street. They didn’t know it but they did me a great favor because now I didn’t have to worry about trying to dispose of the mushy messes, it was done for me! Thanks neighborhood hooligans! I just don’t have much interest in getting pumpkin guts all over my house, kids, floor and kitchen. Pumpkin carving is really something best left to adults and teenagers if you ask me, but then again, being that I’m not into Halloween, maybe you’d better NOT ask me! I know, how can anyone be so un-fun? Frankly, to me, Halloween is just the last commercial bump in the road until the stores bust out the Christmas stuff, and that’s where my heart really is. I LOVE CHRISTMAS!!! It’s my favorite holiday, and no, it’s not about the presents. I love the snow, the carols, the trees, the decorations, the holly, the angels, the nutcrackers, the old holiday cartoons on tv, the nativity, the fun of surprising my kids, I just love everything about it! I noticed that our Wal-Mart already started to get their Christmas stuff out and onto the shelves 2 weeks ago, so I have already begun browsing the shelves in the back, checking out the new ornaments and wreaths, mentally picking my favorites for when I’m ready to buy. I know, I’m such a Halloween Scrooge. But guess what? I don’t care, I’m too busy smelling the sugar cookie scented candles, ogling the Christmas dishes, and checking out the stocking display to notice that your egging my house and t.p.-ing our yard.

Five Little Ghosts

A while back, H asked me if we could make some ghosts for Halloween. I’m not that into the whole “Kleenex tied on the top of a tootsie roll pop” thing, since I am not a big fan of having a bunch of candy in my house (what can I say, I’m a mean mom), so I went in another direction instead. Haven, Noah and I sat one night and drew all sorts of ghost shapes, faces, bodies, and such, until we had a whole assortment to choose from (designing ghosts with those two was a lot of fun, and I plan on doing some more projects like this with them again). Then I had the two of them pick their favorite ghost body shape, face, and piece of ribbon for a tag, and then had Mathes and Gracen come and choose too (I chose Finn’s ghost for him). I cut the pattern pieces out of cardboard, traced them onto white fleece, cut them out as well as the face pieces from some black fleece, and pulled out my sewing machine (in between showing the house to potential buyers) and temporarily set up in the kitchen. It didn’t take me long to sew and stuff all five of them, and they have each been snuggling with their ‘ghosties’ in their beds every night since. They were quite a hit, and I had a lot of fun making them for each of them too.

A Chumich-y Explanation

When Ciel was very little “chumich” was her go-to word of choice, especially when it came to naming stuff. Her favorite doll was originally called “Chumich” until Heidi, Mark, and Holly re-christened it Rowsdower. If you asked her the name of a lot of things for a while, they were all “chumich” (such as the rescued baby bird, the Beta & several gold fish, various other stuffed animals etc…) And also used the word in her everyday vocabulary to describe things too, just because I think she liked that word (it was chumich). Ciel had a VERY active imagination, and was not above making lots of stuff up to suit her own tastes, she had many other words that were all of her own making. She was very entertaining, and we had endless fun with her as a little girl. Can you believe she will be 13 in just a few days? Not me, I can assure you.

Wonder-ful Woman

When I was a little girl, I LOVED Wonder Woman, and wanted to be her with every fiber of my litte girl being. I even dreamed I was her on more than one occaision, saving my siblings from mortal doom, magic bracelets and all. So for Halloween one year, after much begging, pleading and constant bugging, my Mom caved and said she would sew me a Wonder Woman costume. Oh, I was going to look SO COOL! I could hardly wait for Halloween, and I hung by my Mom’s side, watching everything as she cut and sewed my little girls dream together a few days later. But the farther the costume came along, the more I realized that it was basically a shiny satin swimsuit, with no other coverage (yeah, I know, how did I miss that? What can I say, I was still pretty little). How was I going to wear this to school? Or go from house to house at night when it’s a lot colder? Suddenly, I wasn’t quite so excited anymore, but didn’t know how to tell my Mom. She was slaving away at it, working so hard on what I had been begging her to make for me. I didn’t want her hard work to go to waste, but I also was worried about wearing so little clothing. My Mom, with super powers of her own, saw my anxiety and also realized that the costume, even with the cape, wasn’t going to be a great idea after all. Not a problem! She quickly came up with a great solution, so that year I was a gypsy (the first of many). And a very happy one at that. Since my ears weren’t pierced, my Mom got creative, and I loved the ”gold” canning rings she attached to the kerchief to look like huge dangling gypsy earring. So cool! Thanks Mom, you never said a word about all of the wasted time, effort, or fabric on the Wonder Woman costume either. And by the way, you really did an awesome job on it Mom, it looked really cool, and just like her real suit, even halfway sewn.

This is *yawn* Poison Control, how may I help…zzzzzzzz

Yesterday I had the pleasure of calling the phone number above. Yep, that’s right, I had to call Poison Control. Somehow Miss G got ahold of a bottle of hand sanitizer, and the next thing I know she turns up in the kitchen, hands me the nearly empty bottle, reeking of Germ X and pointing to her mouth. I asked her over and over if she ate it, and she kept telling me ‘yes’. I examined her room to see if there was any in there and I found a bunch she had poured onto her floor (Ahhh! The new carpet!) and then there was a ton down the front of her dress (Ahhh! It’s all over her stomach and hands!), and I thought I smelled it on her face by her mouth (AHHH!!! SHE’S BEEN EATING IT!!!), but I couldn’t be exactly sure if she had actually swallowed any or was just refferring to the bad taste in her mouht from licking her hands or something. So, like any neglectful responsible and hysterical concerned parent, I immediately call Poison Control to see what, if anything, I should do.

The Poison Control associate on the other end sounded really bored when he answered, almost irritated in fact that I was bothering him, but I started in explaining my dilemma right away. He asked me if she was she vomiting, unresponsive, or lethargic, and how much had she possibly ingested and I explained that I wasn’t sure but that I was calling to be on the safe side. Still sounding completely bored and a bit cranky as if he gets this kind of call from panicked moms all of the time, he said that he doubts she had ingested any serious amount of the hand sanitizer since it tastes so bad, and I really shouldn’t worry. Yeah, duh! I thought about that too, but like I said, better…safe…than…sorry (you darn dirty jerk!) After taking down our info, he told me to give her liquids, keep an eye on her and watch for any signs of drunkeness, and to take her to the ER immediately if she exibits any, then he promptly hung up on me.

Um wait, drunkeness!?!?! Seriously?!?! 

Great, I was NOT calling that jerk back. So we watched her, no signs, she’s fine, and my stomach began to un-knot several hours later.

Still irked by the guy on the other end though. Thanks for making me feel like I’m wasting your time with my call (lousy human mustard).

Hank Aaron She Ain’t

I was about 10-11 years old, living in California, and upstairs in my brothers room. I was having an argument with my brother Scott about something I thought was important at the time, but now I can’t remember the silly little details. At some point he chucked a large paperback book at me and said something that really ticked me off (again, I don’t remember what, but my brothers were always good at making me mad when they wanted to). So I picked the book up off of the floor where it had fallen, and threw it right back at him. Sadly, I have crummy aim, and I watched in slo-mo horror as the book sailed neatly past his shoulder, and went right through the glass in the window behind him, leaving a large, gaping, book sized hole in the bottom left corner. I stood there horrified, Scott and I looking at each other in disbelief and shock. Then my Mom ran in, and began to go ballistic. Can’t say I blame her. I can still feel the knot in my stomach as I stared at that hole in the glass. I was always amazed at how quietly it sailed through, I never even heard so much as a tinkle of glass as it broke a book sized hole in the bottom left corner of the window. I still can't believe the whole window didn’t shatter either (thankfully). That pretty much cured me of ever wanting to throw something at someone again. Ok, I have wanted to, but prefer not to tempt fate again. And as for my punishment, I was severely scolded and sent to my room. Could have been worse, I could have been grounded. Actually surprised I wasn’t. And of course I was even madder at Scott afterwards because I felt like he “made me” throw the book at him, so it was his fault really. Yeah, made sense to me then, not so much now though. Ah, the mini dramas of my youth.