OooOoo...This was Halloween

Sam wanted to be something cool--this year he was going to his first school Halloween dance.  He considered going as a color (blue--inspired by Matt's Blue Man Group last year?) but never really settled on anything despite long brainstorm sessions.  Then on Thursday night when I went in to say good night he had his whole costume assembled and lying on his floor, including the FBI i.d. and earpiece.  With no help whatsoever! Awesome. 

Lauren's friend Lucy is a ballerina so she brought over her tutus and they put together a good/evil ballerina duo for consecutive dances last weekend.  (This weekend Lauren went with her old queen costume from a couple of years ago for party-going on Halloween.)

Maddy and friends wanted to dress up in a theme together and decided on Snap, Crackle, and Pop of Rice Krispy fame (Maddy's coat and hat are from Target and will be well used long after Halloween).

We just squeaked in a pumpkin carving session on Halloween at 4 p.m. before everyone dispersed for trick-or-treating & celebrating with their own groups of friends.

We did a row of orange illuminarias leading up to our house but it was so windy that they were blown out and knocked over by 6 (plus it was freakily warm: 69 degrees). Some of my favorite trick-or-treater costumes this year: the Empire State Building (stacked boxes...so clever), a neon sign, the Constitution, and two little witches in a cardboard car.  Failing grade to the teenage "golfer" (wearing a golf shirt and glove).

Finally, a note:

Dear Teen Girl Trick-or-treaters, In my opinion, you must choose between sk@nky and candy.  If you are old enough to wear a sk@nky costume, you are too old to trick-or-treat with the little kids.  If you want candy, please cover up and be a sweet witch, not a sexy one.

Thank you,

The reluctant candy-givers at no. 22.

Permitted

Look who passed her driver's permit test!

(sorry, cell phone quality photo)

I guess that means she's allowed to get behind the wheel, huh?

(especially since she only got one question wrong)

Gulp.

(Those apron strings are getting stretched longer every day.)

Congrats, Lulu!

Notes on a Monday morning

Or: Hindsight is 20/20. And less grumpy.

5:00 a.m. G leaves for the airport for a business trip. Bye, babe.

5:22 a.m. I am the early seminary driver. I have had less than three hours of sleep due to very fun visitors. I don't do early mornings very well. Drag myself up for the 5:35 departure time.

5:30 a.m. I remind daughter (who is eating breakfast) that we have to leave soon to pick up E. and drive the 20 minutes to the church. Forget to use "good morning, Mary Sunshine, voice"

5:35 a.m. I wait in the car, watching through the windows while the daughter dashes upstairs to find something, then down, then to the kitchen, then back to the upstairs. My pet peevery feelings activate, with the assistance of early morning grumpiness.

5:41 a.m. Daughter comes out, juggling folders, toast, glass of water, cell phone. No backpack. Daughter dashes back in to find backpack.

5:47 a.m. Finally we leave the house. My grumpiness breaks the dam and I gush a flash flood/ loud lecture on the benefits of advanced planning, being on time, courtesy, adding a flourish by throwing many other items into my dawn discourse. Daughter sits, silently picking at her toast. I go on far too long. And I don't feel any better afterwards, incidentally.

5:53 a.m. Pick up E.

6:10 a.m. I drop off the girls at church and drive home feeling ashamed of my tirade. Think of how awesome it is that a 16-y-o girl wakes herself up at 4:45 in the morning and goes to daily early morning religious instruction not only willingly but with eagerness. I deflated that over a 10 minute delay? Sheesh.

Can I have a do-over?
{Well, yes I can. Every morning this week.}

I'm going to bed early tonight just to be sure.

Seize* the day

Never mind all the post-vacation unpacking, laundry, grocery shopping, email-returns, phone calls, cleaning, and everything else. I can't wait another minute to acknowledge and celebrate that she

turned 16 over this weekend.

Any words are inadequate to the task of expressing my feelings on this milestone. I love her dearly. She is the one who has taught me the most about myself and about mothering, the daughter who suffers from an inexperienced & flawed mother who is doing everything for the first time (and flying by the seat of my pants, mostly). We do clash sometimes (as mothers and daughters do) especially as I learn to hand over more and more of the "controlling interest" in this lovely life I have nurtured and cherished and played a role in creating (but, really, I know it is her life, after all). She is a vessel of light and laughter. She has a good heart. She makes us proud.

Look out, world, here she comes, with keys to the minivan in hand (very soon) and dates on her calendar...

Also, world, please be good to her.

*French for sixteen. I know, getting all fancy!

Notes from an anthropological dig

I changed my mind on this post. Does that ever happen to you?

It happens a lot to wishy-washy people like me.

Sorry.