In a Manor of Speaking

The manor where Beni and I held our wedding reception nearly a decade ago was the site of tonight’s matrimony of trick and (or?) treat. The estate’s owners opened their gates to the little cows and vampire hula girls of our community.

Urine for a Treat

Reed is proving to be as stubborn in potty training as his sister was at that age. He sneaks away when it’s time for that number greater than one but less than three (Reed: forgive me when you’re old enough to read this), and we certainly haven’t had much success in convincing him to use the proper place for tinkling, which leaves us begging him to give pees a chance.

For reasons that may have something to do with the incentive of a blueberry slush, we found gold in his pot at the end of the rainbow this morning.

The Penknife Is Mightier than the Gourd

The funny thing about this post—besides the playful title, of course—is how spookily similar the kids’ smiles are to the ones they carved out of their respective pumpkins.

Check it out:

Seeing Double

We were flipping channels tonight when we landed on a countdown show on VH1. Reed happened to be strolling by the TV when Norah Jones came up for “Don’t Know Why.” (The show must have been VH1’s list of the greatest songs of the 2000s.)

He put down his toy, pointed at the screen, and yelled “Mommy!”

Don’t know why? Here’s why:

Seeing Things in Black and White

Because elephants are Reed’s favorite animal at this time, Beni picked up a pachydermous getup for him for this year’s Halloween. However, he’s refused to take the thing out of the trunk, if you will, having repeatedly told us that he won’t wear it today, tomorrow, or any day. I’d like to think that this means that he’s already rejected the Republican Party, but I’ll admit that this thinking is wishful fantasy. In fact, his favorite float from the recent parade we attended was the one that featured a giant elephant, which was sponsored by—you guessed it—the local Republican headquarters.

Reed recently settled on the cow costume that his sister wore five years ago, which is a good thing with Halloween around the corner and his school’s costume parade happening over lunch today. Our cow poked his way along the route and eventually made his way into the loving arms of his moo-my. (Sorry—that pun stinks worse than spoiled milk.)

Bus Boy

Setting Wheels in Motion

My parents laugh about all the non-motorized vehicles we have in the back of our garage. We have bicycles, wagons, Razor scooters, strollers, roller skates, tricycles, and push carts. We threw a bunch of them in the back of our car this evening, and the kids gave them a spin at a local school. When Reed got tired of riding his three-wheeler, he headed for the playground—where he went first to the tire swing, of course.

Parade’s a Hit

To our kids, homecoming is about one thing: the parade. Every year, we make our way downtown to see the participants and the floats, but also—and this may be reason number one—to collect the candy raining down from said participants and floats. I kid you not: the kids will risk being run over by a tractor wheel to get another lousy Tootsie Roll. The two got their fill of pre-Halloween candy, and Reed didn’t freak out this time when he saw the school mascot. It was a good morning for all of us.

Social Class

We, the contributors to and consumers of social media, show different sides of ourselves on the various platforms. Let’s take, for example, my reporting of tonight’s parent-teacher conference with Olivia’s second-grade teacher.

If I were on Facebook, I’d go the proud/brag-gy/self-deprecating route, offering something like, “Just got back from our parent-teacher conference with Olivia’s teacher. Glad to learn she’s as wonderful, kind, and intellectually curious at school as she is at home. Don’t know from where she got those traits! :)”

Twitter, given its character limitations, requires an economy of thought, and is ripe for sarcastic expression. On it, I might write something along the lines of, “Olivia’s teacher reports our boisterous child is quiet in class. Need to run this claim by PolitiFact. #pantsonfire #mistakenidentity”

On this blog, I’d go where the whims of inspiration take me, but I’d most definitely incorporate some wordplay and puns along the way. Unless, of course, I’m suffering from writer’s block, at which point I’d just throw up some photos of Olivia’s contributions—flora and fauna—to her classroom. (Pictures that should have been edited in Instagram, and then shared in Facebook and Twitter, of course.)

Put a Bug in One's Sphere

Olivia is now officially a Girl Scouts Brownie, and so she and the others in her troupe are busy learning about their community and the wider world—and earning badges and patches along the way. Here she is with her Grandma Randi getting a view of a bug’s eye (and other parts) in a class at the nature center.

Wrong End of the Sticky

It seems the glue that was destined for construction paper took a wrong turn and dead-ended on Reed’s hand. At least that’s the story he’s show-and-telling me.

The Cart Before the Horsing Around

Family outings to the grocery store are a challenge in child containment. The stores do their best to lend a hand, er, cart. Some stores keep a couple oversized carts—complete with double seats—in their corral. But these carts are most suitable for families with youngsters of similar or same age. Other places build seating out the back—Target’s on the mark with this style. Our kids prefer the places where they can ride around in—or on, in this case—a car attached to the front of the shopping cart.