|Our train jack-o-lantern. Littles was thrilled.|
If you didn't make it to our house before then, tough luck. At that point, Tiny was crawling after me to the door for every trick-or-treater, sobbing desperately. It could be because he wanted to nurse and go to bed OR because in my distraction, I'd allowed him to chew on a bite sized Butterfinger that he'd managed to rip open with his extremely pointy teeth. Guess we can now rule out a peanut allergy. I kept Littles from being terrorized by the creepy children coming to our door by allowing him to watch all the way through The Pirates Who Don't Do Anything, which will probably terrorize him in a whole different way (cheese curls?!?!). I think he thought the kids at the door were bringing us candy as I kept coming back to the couch with the bowl full again (topping off in between, you know). Anyway, another Halloween come and gone. Hurray...? Worst. Holiday. Ever.
But if you want to see some cute kids in costumes, I did semi-dress up the boys for the fall festival on Sunday.
|Lumberjack Tiny. His beard was a bit sparse, |
but his pimple could've had its own zip code.
|Prepster by day. |
Superhero by night.
There is one last thing I want to say, in regards to the below picture. Really, there's enough for its own post, but I'm not going there, at least right now. Do you see my beautiful little son? All he wanted to do at the fall festival was sit and watch the horses. Bouncy house? No. Take a picture with the person dressed up as a dog? No. Go around and see the trunks at Trunk or Treat? No. Ride the horses? No. Touch the horses? No. Just sit and watch them. I did get him to throw some "mean"bags, but only if I held his hand.
Initially, I felt a little frustrated for him. Frustrated is probably the wrong word. I just know how much fun he could have if he would let himself. Bouncy houses used to be his favourite thing in the world; now he just wants Mommy. But I am learning to be grateful for the son I have right now. Not just the son I used to have and not the son I may want to have, but the son I have right now. This goes for Tired Tiny (who sleeps in two hour blocks) as well. And for my husband who is frequently the undeserved brunt of my "fixing" spirit (that's a nice way to say "critical"). Every time I look at this picture of Littles, at his perfect smile and his happy eyes, I'm going to try to remember that. Because if I can just chose to enjoy who and what I have in that moment, if I can just say thank you, if I can just sit down on the grass and watch the stinking horses for a change, I might find myself with a memory that transforms everything.
|And may I say, he didn't get the horse thing from me.|
They kind of creep me out.