Halloween forecast: patchy with a chance of pumpkins

I decided to combine my Halloween pictures with pictures of our recent trip to the pumpkin patch. My reasons are two-fold: 1) I kind of forgot about taking Halloween pictures until it was too dark to take good pictures, and the pictures we took before the downtown trick-or-treating a few nights before just weren't very good; and 2) the pictures at the Patch are awesome.

We ventured to the Pumpkin Patch a couple of weeks ago with Clara's Pre-K class. It was extremely reminiscent of the last time we went to a pumpkin patch, which was three years ago, when Jonathan was a brand new baby. Crazy. Not much was different about this year's experience, other than that we now live in Missouri and Jeremy has new glasses. And technically the baby is different, though to look at the pictures I can't be totally sure.



The Patch was just a family farm about three miles from our house, but it felt like we were deep in the country (who am I kidding? Almost everywhere feels like deep country around here!). Clara lived it up with her Pre-K friends, Jeremy walked around with Cole, and I hung out with Jonathan when I wasn't busy wondering why Clara likes her Pre-K friends and teachers about a billion times more than she likes me. Sigh.

And then, of course, yesterday was Halloween. We had a fun Halloween this year, all said.


Clara decided to dress up as Elphaba from the musical Wicked, though she quickly figured out how few people (at least in our neck of rural Missouri) know who Elphaba is, so she just started telling people she was a good witch whom everyone thinks is bad, or, more often, she just said she was a good witch. And she didn't even once use the word "whom." I'm debating whether that's even the right usage, but I think it is.


Jonathan decided to dress up as a stereotype, I mean as Spiderman. I think I've mentioned his latest passion for superheroes. It's a phase that's holding strong. Anyway, I thought he looked pretty cute in his muscly spidey suit, and I know he felt pretty awesome, so I guess that's what matters.


Cole primarily dressed up as a hungry, chunky baby.

Jeremy showed up to teach his classes wearing a sign around his neck that said 7,000,000,000. My alert readers will be able to tell that he was dressed as the world population--kind of a scary costume, depending on your view of the world. Certainly it was an apt costume for a human geographer.

I dressed up as a crabby mommy. It's a well-worn costume.


At any rate, it was a pretty magical night, as far as Halloweens go (crabby mommies aside). The weather was very mild, which made trick-or-treating a relative pleasure. Watching the kids run down the street in the cool evening air collecting handfuls of loot from the neighbors just warmed my cold, grumpy heart.

Buckety-Bucket-List

(I am struggling to figure out this new blogger format! Why is the spacing either immense or nonexistent between lines?)


This is my shameless effort to win a giveaway on another blog. Here's the official pronouncement: 


This is my entry in the Just Ask Bucket List Getaway Giveaway. Just Ask offers a breast and ovarian cancer screening and is encouraging people to share 15 things that I want to enjoy in my lifetime as a reminder to be aware of my health. Want to enter? Head over to TodaysMama.com to get the details.


That said, I do not like the phrase "Bucket List." I can't explain why. But I do have things I'd like to do, and here are fifteen of them:


1. Win a blog giveaway. (Seriously!)
2. Learn to use a kitchen knife really well.
3. Travel in Europe.
4. Buy a house.
5. Have a basement playroom. (Do these things all count as "buckety"?)
6. Sleep in a treehouse.
7. Have an awesome wall tent in my woodsy backyard.
8. Touch a dolphin.
9. See orcas in the wild.
10. Go on an overnight backpacking trip.
11. Go to Alaska.
12. Hike Half Dome.
13. Learn to take great pictures.
14. Be debt free.
15. Give my kids a happy childhood.


That was harder to come up with than I thought. I've never really thought about bucket lists before. It takes enough energy just to get through my day, let alone think about the future. :)


This has been a pretty lame post. Hope everyone is having a grand day!

A walk in the park

We ventured into the "big city" today to 1) get out of town; 2) get a little shopping done; 3) go to the park; 4) get frosties (frostys?) at Wendy's. Obviously we can go to the park right here in our own home town, but there's something exciting about an "exotic" park 45 minutes away.

And we can't get frosties where we live.

The kids had a great time, even though the playground was in the middle of extensive renovations, leaving only a pair of swings and one of those old-school tall metal slides. I've always thought those slides were a bit hazardous, and I'd be surprised if they left it up when the new playground is done. But seriously, there's almost nothing better than zipping at top speed down a slick metal slide. It's one of the truest joys of childhood.

Jonathan's motto: Carry a big stick. Walking softly is optional.
    Cole's motto: Feed me, change me, love me. Will do, sweet baby.

The inaudible howl of the biggest-littlest wolf

I can think of three times in my life when I have been creeped out by my own home. Case #1 was when we once picked up some bed bug stowaways at a (nice) hotel and had to endure extermination procedures followed by months of picking up every conceivable piece of fuzz in the house and examining it with a strong light and a magnifying glass. (True story. There are more details, but I'll spare you. And in Jeremy's defense, I should add that he was not the one picking up pieces of fuzz, but you probably could've guessed that on your own.)

Case #2 was when we first moved to Missouri and started finding smallish beetle-ish bugs in our house. I don't know exactly what they are, other than that they live in the grass but also enjoy venturing into more civilized territory from time to time. They really bothered me at first, but we don't find many of them and they're really not that bad, all things considered.

Case #3 is what we're dealing with at present: the robustly-sized, fuzzy-wuzzy wolf spider. I thought about posting a picture, but then I realized that I might never open my blog again if I had to face seeing a hairy-scary close-up of a nasty spider every time I did. Gross. But it's also a bit gross wondering whether I might see one every time I turn the corner.

We're working on a few things to mitigate our little blossoming problem, like sticky traps, but I seriously do not like those spiders. And they're poisonous! Websites like to point out that they're not aggressive and won't bite unless provoked. But why, then, call them "wolf" spiders? Wolves are predatory and often aggressive. They are hunters. If I were naming a poisonous but shy spider, I would've chosen a more innocuous name. Like maybe "pantywaist spider" or just simply "the wuss."

But I was not around when spider names were being doled out, so until something changes, we'll just be listening closely for the cry of the wolf.

The sound of silence

Yesterday I took Clara to the doctor for her 5-year well child check (is she really almost five years old??). I wasn't sure how much of the visit she remembered, since she was largely preoccupied with her increasing anxiety about whether she'd be able to get a flu shot or the much beloved flu mist. (Answer: I opted for the flu shot this year on the off chance the live virus might somehow infect Cole. She was most displeased.)

Anyway, at one point the doctor asked me whether Clara took a nap. I scoffed. "Neither of them do," I said, gesturing in mild disgust at my two older children. She said, "Well, that's a horrible thing! You would all feel better with a bit of rest every day."

Tell me about it, sister.

Before I go on, I should say that until this summer we actually were pretty regular with an hour of "quiet time" every day. This was a most beneficial exercise--for me if no one else. But between our seven week stay in Utah, family reunions, moving to Missouri, enduring excessive heat (and excessive pregnancy), and having a new baby, "quiet time" kind of fell to the wayside.

This is no longer true.

Since Clara has immense respect for teachers, doctors, and basically any authority figure with the notable exception of her parents, I thought I'd casually bring up the doctor's recommendation for a rest time every day. So today, I picked her up from preschool, we came home and had lunch, and then I told them they'd be spending the next hour having pleasant repose in their room, including a half-hour of time spent doing nothing but lying in bed reading books! (Seriously, what is wrong with children?!?? I can't think of anything that would be more wonderful than 30 minutes of lying in bed reading a book!)

And guess what? My suggestion was met with absolutely zero resistance! So for the last hour, they have been quietly playing in their rooms, looking at books, etc., with nary a scream, hit, or yell. Such a blessed event.

I called Jeremy to tell him about it, and I expressed my concern that it might never happen again so easily. His response: "But it happened today."

Yes. Yes it did.

Our new favorite hobby...

Cole Samuel

On Tuesday morning, I drove to my 39 week doctor's appointment with Jonathan and Clara in tow. Five hours later, our cute little Cole was born. Obviously, we cannot have a baby without some sort of drama and trauma, but all things considered it was a relatively mild delivery, and we're so happy he's here safely!

When I met with my doctor at around noon on Tuesday, Cole's heart rate did a few unexpected decelerations. I tend to be a source of stress for my OBs, so when I looked at her with tears in my eyes and said, "That does not sound like my baby," she said, "Listen to me, with any other patient I would not be worried, but you're here and I'm here; let's just have this baby right now."

I, of course, was immediately emotional and worried, and I was an hour from home (the joy of living in a small town as something of a high-risk pregnancy: you have to go afield for your babies), had two kids with me, and Jeremy was at his office with no car. I tearfully called him and told him I would find someone to pick him up, then I called a dear and willing friend who dropped everything to pick him up, drive him an hour away, then take my kids home with her (thank you, Kristin, truly! We couldn't have done it without you!).

My doctor said as soon as Jeremy walked in the door we'd go to the operating room, and she was true to her word. Once he arrived and put on his "nurse's clothes" (as Clara calls them), we wheeled over to the OR. The c-section went well, other than the tarp/curtain was too close to my face and when they peeked Cole over the tarp he dripped two big drops of goopy-ness into my hair. I thought he looked truly enormous, but he's a pretty normal-sized baby: 20.5 inches and 7 pounds, 12 ounces.

After he was born and made his way to the nursery to get cleaned up, people seemed to generally forget I was there. Jeremy followed Cole, only to be made to wait in my hospital room. The anesthesiologist left, the doctors were stitching me up and talking about the best museums in Washington, DC, and I stared at the blue tarp. Oh well. I guess at that point I wasn't feeling very chatty anyway. :)

When I was finished in surgery, they wheeled me to recovery, then brought in both Jeremy and Cole. That was actually the first time I'd ever had anyone other than a nurse with me in recovery. I liked it! It made up for being abandoned in surgery. After recovering from a big drop in my blood pressure (I have low blood pressure anyway, but this was low even by my standards), the three of us went to my room and have been there ever since. Jeremy has been able to spend most of his time here as well, other than a run to the airport to pick up my mom the night Cole was born (I'm so glad she's here!!) and to teach one of his classes. But other than that, he's been helpfully at my side, helping me in and out of bed, changing diapers, and getting chastised by me every time he's said something too funny (it hurts to laugh!). I sure dig that guy.

The first night was tough. I never sleep that well away from home, but between the pain, the dumb clot-preventing legging things (I seriously loathe them), and feeding Cole, I only slept for about an hour.


The first day after the surgery is always the hardest, by far, but by the day's end I was totally "wireless," eating solid foods, and walking around. And the best part of the day was when Jonathan and Clara came to meet baby Cole! Clara was particularly enthralled by him. She just wanted to hold and cuddle and talk about him. She is such a sweetheart, and is always a good big sister. Even when she fights us on picking up after herself, etc., she is nearly always willing to help Jonathan, and I have a feeling she'll be just the same way with Cole. She was also really interested in hearing about my "wound" and was very helpful in holding my hand and adjusting my legs to help me feel better. She even suggested putting a pillow under my feet. So thoughtful!


Jonathan was a champ about meeting Cole. He seemed a lot more mystified by the whole situation, and even though he was excited to see and hold Cole, he was a lot more happy to eat my cupcake from dinner and sit by me on my bed. It must be a really strange transition for the youngest!

And now I'm waiting for the doctor's go-ahead to go home today. Cole has already been green-lighted, and if my doctor is ever done with her surgeries I'm confident she'll release me as well. Even though home comes along with its own craziness, it is home, and cliche as it may be to say, there really is no place like it.

Happy Birthday, Jonner!

I am feeling very tenderly toward our youngest child today. Not only is it his third birthday, and not only is he a sweet and wonderful boy, but I am keenly aware that he'll be my "baby" for only a few days more.


What to say about Jonathan? He is truly one of the sweetest, most mellow, easy to please, fun to be around boys I've ever met. He has big, beautiful eyes, the best little Charlie Brown head, and a seriously infectious smile. He loves his family, and he borderline worships his sister. He is truly charming.

Jonathan has lots of interests lately, but the two most notable are riding his scooter and tricycle and anything to do with superheroes. I'm not sure where the superhero thing came from, but it has more or less replaced his previous passion with motorcycles (though a superhero on a motorcycle is a guaranteed hot hit).

He still loves the tiny, scruffy monkey I "rescued" from the Syracuse church nursery when Clara was a baby. He has been potty trained for about six months, and he enjoys Backyardigans, especially (you might have guessed) a certain episode he calls "Bubble Boy" where the Backyardigans pretend to be superheroes.

Speaking (again) of superheroes, Jonathan is not void of superpowers himself. His four strongest powers (other than super sweetness) are as follows:


1. Super speed. The boy runs everywhere, usually with arms pointing straight down and looking straight at the ground.

2. Super touch-of-invisibility. Jeremy and I are convinced that no one on earth can lose things more efficiently than Jonathan. We will see him with the object in question, and then five minutes later it seems to literally have disappeared from the face of the earth. Jeremy and I have spent many a frustrated evening stomping around the house trying to find that evening's must-have bedtime item. It really is a remarkable superpower.

3. Super spilling: I swear that boy can spill on clothes he's never even worn. It's incredible.

4. Super style: Jonathan has a keen eye for which clothes are "awesome" and which clothes are "not awesome." This poses a problem because, as it turns out, nearly all of his clothes are "not awesome." Sometimes it's tricky to get him dressed in the morning.


Finally, to mark this momentous occasion I sat down and "interviewed" Jonathan about some of his most favorite things. I think it's an interesting snapshot of Jonathan at age three. He's a great kid:

Favorite food: cauliflower (that's what he said, and he did request homemade pizza and cauliflower for his birthday dinner, so it could be true)

Favorite dessert: chocolate cupcakes

Favorite 'special' (one of those can't-sleep-without things): monkey

Favorite toy: truck

Favorite song: "Belagu" (a Malaysian primary song)

Favorite song to dance to: Toss up between Beyonce's "Halo" and Katy Perry's "Firework"

Favorite book: Flying High, a riveting tale about the DC Superfriends

Favorite thing to do with Mommy: read books

Favorite thing to do with Daddy: jump high off beanbags

Favorite thing to do with Clara: play with garbage trucks when we get some

Favorite thing to do during the day: make up jokes for Clara

Best thing about being Jonathan: being Spider-man

Favorite color: blue

What he wants to be when he grows up: This got three responses: a dumb neighbor (???), The Flash, and Clara

Happy Birthday, Sweetest Boy! We love you!

These are days to remember

This week has been big on firsts in our family. Just this morning, for example, Clara had her first day of Pre-Kindergarten for this year. She has been waiting for this day to arrive for what has felt like an interminably long time, and I think we were all a bit relieved that the big moment was finally here.

In preparation for the big day, I told Clara we could have a special dinner on Tuesday night, and that she could pick any dinner she wanted. Her choice? Turkey, mashed potatoes and gravy, and broccoli, with chocolate cupcakes with sprinkles for dessert. Why? "Because turkey is what you should always eat for special occasions." In my current state, I thought the dinner was not as fun or fancy as I wanted it to be, but she was over the moon about it and kept saying, "This is the best dinner I ever had!!" After dinner she sat so peacefully and reverently while Jeremy gave her a father's blessing, which is a special blessing of comfort and counsel for the upcoming year. It was a special time for our family.

Clara's school is a laboratory school at the university, and she is really thrilled to be a big "university student." She's particularly excited that Jeremy will get to "stroll her to school" every morning before heading off to work. I am particularly excited that we live less than a mile from campus, which means that Jeremy can stroll her to school every morning! Her school starts at 7:30, and once the baby comes I think it'll be much better for me to only have to pick her up at 11:00.

One concern Jeremy and I had is that Clara would take to waking up ridiculously early for school. She has a keen sense of the sunrise, and every time I tell her she should try to sleep in a bit she says, "It's important for us to rise with the sun." I actually disagree. I think it's important for us to rise in the general vicinity of the sun, but I like to give the sun at least a little head start. Not Clara. On Monday, for example, she popped out of bed around 6:00 a.m. so she could be ready for her Pre-K open house which, as it happens, started at 5:00 p.m.

This morning, though, I had to wake her up at 6:45. When I gently rubbed her back and told her it was time to get ready for school, she sat straight up in bed, put both hands to her cheeks, and sleepily giggled and said, "Oh, I'm so excited!" She got dressed, had a healthful bowl of "honey oaties," as we call them, and put a few finishing touches on her back-to-school readiness, which consisted primarily of fitting a box of kleenex into her bag that I'd foolishly thought we'd just carry into school. Silly Mommer.



We woke Jonathan just in time to get dressed and head out the door, but he was excited for Clara's new adventure and didn't want to leave her side. They are a sweet pair. In all of the pictures we took of her this morning, he was never far away.



As we left Clara in the classroom and headed out to the car, I was surprised to find myself a little misty. I've been really excited for her to start school and to have a few hours away from home every morning, but when it comes right down to it she's still my little girl. I'll miss her!

Clara quite enjoyed her morning away from home, although she did tell me that "the girl in the white shirt and the piggies said we weren't buddies." Goodness. Clara has a very sincere love for everyone, and it really hurts her feelings when that love isn't instantly reciprocated. But I guess these are the kinds of potentially good lessons to be learned from being social. We talked about how important it is to be kind to everyone. I'm confident she'll continue to reach out to everyone around her!

And that's the story of Clara! Three and a half hours a day can really make a girl grow up quickly. After school we were doing our daily reading lesson, and I tried to get her to write "ant." Instead of pouting or refusing, she just handed me a pencil and said, "I'll let you do the honors, Mom." That's my girl.

Before I close, I want to be sure to give Jeremy a little shout-out for his first day of school on Monday. He even humored me when I told him to wake me up before he left on Monday so I could take his picture on the porch. He's a good sport. Here's to life on the tenure track and all the stress, fun and general hullabaloo that entails. Huzzah!

Out, damn'd spot! out I say!

I have to hand it to Lady Macbeth for really hitting the nail on the head with that line. Because, I will admit this, I have been rehearsing that line over and over in my head for the last three days as I have done battle between light colored carpet and the new bane of my existence:


Actually, in all fairness to the august Kool-Aid Man, the real culprit in this tale is Crystal Light. Or, to be more accurate, the Wal-mart version of Crystal Light. Or, to be more accurate still (the devil is in the details), the real culprit is the sinister Red 40:


(I'll admit it doesn't really look that sinister as a chemical formula. It looked much worse on the carpet, but I was too upset to take a picture.)

Here's how it all went down:

On Thursday night, after the kids were in bed, Jeremy poured himself a cup of very red Crystal Light and set it on the coffee table in our living room. He proceeded to not drink the Crystal Light for over an hour. At about 10:00, after ordering Jonathan some birthday presents online, I put my laptop onto the coffee table, which in turn spilled the full cup of Crystal Light on the floor.

So, so horrible.

After some internet research (seriously, how did anyone do anything before the internet?) I stayed up until 2:30 in the morning steaming the stain out of the carpet. The next day--and I swear I am not making this up--I spent another four hours doing the same thing. Today I wrapped things up (which is code for "gave up") in another hour. So, all told, I spent nine and a half HOURS of my life getting rid of that stain.

Good news, though: the stain is almost entirely gone, just a bit of very pale pink to annoy me for the rest of my days (fortunately, the stain is unobtrusively located in the middle of the living room; what a relief).

The less good news is that Jeremy and I cannot agree on who is to blame in this sordid ordeal. Please help me out by passing judgment (on Jeremy). I will not be offended if you think it's my fault (other than that it's so very clearly Jeremy's fault). Really, tell me: who's to blame?

Waiting...

Now that I'm less than a month away from delivering our latest offspring, I thought I should post a recent photograph for my near and dear readers:


BAM!

I actually don't think the picture turned out too bad at all! I thought about posting a close-up shot of my swollen man-hands or cankles, but in the end I took a few pointers from my Syracuse friend Sami about taking a flattering picture and just went with it (I don't remember all the details, but the secret was something about the angle of the chin and the rump--like, pretend you have a chin and do not have a rump).

But back to being a bit largey and uncomfortable: You've all seen Wall-E, right? You know how the humans are so atrophied from lack of exercise and overeating that they can barely move? Well, that's just how I feel. I know every pregnant woman feels like that toward the end, but that doesn't really make it any more pleasant.

One thing about Missouri in the summer that makes pregnancy more challenging is that it's soooooo hot. And also humid. This means that even the simplest tasks seem more onerous. And the humidity has made me swell up like a puffy human balloon, which is both unsightly and unpleasant. Since I have two small kiddles, I spend a lot of time on the floor playing. And sometimes after playing I feel so stiff and swollen that I just remain there until someone happens by to heft me up. This has actually gone on for days, with everyone in the house wondering why I'm still sitting on the floor.

I kid, naturally.

Overall, though, I will say that I've been surprisingly un-stressed about this baby. This is quite possibly because every other area of our lives right now still feels so unsettled or stressful that I am simply incapable--physically, emotionally, and mentally--of doing my normal pregnancy stress. Sure, I worry about the outcome of this pregnancy, but I'm cautiously optimistic. I really hope everything goes well. I have even allowed myself to periodically feel excited about having a baby--something I haven't been very good at since we lost Sam. (Like it's any easier to have something go wrong if you convince yourself something might go wrong. Oy.) But here's to three more healthy weeks, a safe delivery, and a wonderful new addition to the fam.

The academic glamour shot

I took this head shot of Jeremy the other day for his department website. Isn't he handsome? I put it as the wallpaper of my computer for sort of a joke, and as it turns out it's a pretty funny joke because his head is truly larger than life on the screen, and the kids think it's absolutely hilarious.

A few highlights from the photo shoot:

-I said, "Where do you want to take the picture?" and he said, "Just in that little copse of trees in our back yard." Who says "copse of trees"?? (He is reading over my shoulder saying, "But it is a copse!")

-When I told him to turn his head at a slight angle to his body he told me I was not supposed to be taking his senior picture. But we both agreed, in the end, that it was a good idea.

-When he came out into the front room in preparation for the shoot wearing these glasses (which are new and which he hasn't really worn yet), Clara looked up at him and said, "When did you start wearing glasses?" (Where has she been her whole life?)

All said, I think it's a pretty good picture. We sure do like our Casio. :) Jeremy is fond of saying that Casio is super great at point-and-shoot cameras and digital watches--of which (I flatter myself) we own both.