Mug (for the Camera) Shots

The next time you catch me in a bad mood, or I’m coding blue—that state of being down in the dumps—please refer me to these pictures of Reed:

Sad—Cow(s) Deceased

On the way home from school, Olivia spotted a cattle truck heading toward the highway. Below is an excerpt of the conversation that she had with Beni about the fate of those cows.

O: "How many cows are there on that truck?"

B: "About 100."

O: "So that’ll make about 10,000 hamburgers, right?"

[Olivia starts to cry thinking about this.]

O: "Do they ever grind up people and then people eat them?"

B: "No, you’re not allowed to do that. That’s a law."

O: "Well, has it ever happened?"

B: "It might have happened a long time ago."

O: "Like when Abraham Lincoln was alive in the 1800s?"

Scooby Derring-Do

So this news story has gotten a lot of attention over the course of this week. It seems some people were aghast that a five-year-old boy would want to dress up as a woman – in this case, as Daphne from Scoobie Doo – for Halloween. The child’s mother did what any self-respecting parent would do in her situation – she took to her blog to make public her dismay for those dismayed, passionately defending her son’s right to individuality.

This hit close to home because Olivia went trick-or-treating as a man this year, a year after she picked out her duds from the boys’ side of the Halloween-costume store. But since the societal expectations that we place on boys are different from girls, I understand what the blogger means when she notes that “[I]f my daughter had dressed as Batman, no one would have thought twice about it. No one.”

Olivia got nary a disparaging remark or snide comment for her Lincoln get-up; if anything, she was lauded for her creativity and originality. Sadly for this boy and others in his shoes/boots/whatever, their social norms are such that transgendered expressions are often met with scorn and derision. I try to imagine how I’d handle everything if, in four years, Reed insists that for Halloween he go as Cleopatra or – gasp! – Lady Gaga. Would I handle things as gracefully as this mom, or would I bow to societal pressures? Could I muster the wit to disarm the critics with a “…I am not worried that your son will grow up to be an actual ninja so back off”?

Elect-ile Dysfunction

There were many predictions that were made about yesterday’s national elections. One that came true was Beni’s foretelling that our last name would be butchered and commented on by the polling volunteers at our voting site. (Note to these people: our disclosure of our “ethnic” last name should not be accompanied by sighs, eye rolls, and nervous laughter. Your attempts at humor are not funny. Go back and read your training manual about decorum. And immediately remove your head from your insensitive ass.)

We, as voters, faced the choice of the same versus the same of not long ago. If only we had a more compelling option, such as the one we faced as we walked in our polling place:

And young people of legal voting age of Democratic persuasion, a message for you.

Please don’t shoot – I’m just a messenger. But consider this: if the six-year-old below was excited about the prospect of one day casting a ballot, then you shouldn’t waste the opportunity to point the country, state, city, township, or municipality in the direction you see fit.

Teach a New Dog Old Tricks (and Treats)

After a year off, we joined with Aiden and Alayna once again in the quest for candy, this time with a puppy in tow. Reed, who at age six months last Halloween was too young to trick-or-treat, got a taste of this sweet tradition this time around. His sister, who for days was waffling between her new favorite of rock star and her old of Abraham Lincoln, finally realized that a house divided against itself cannot stand, and went with the presidential look.

In the First(-Grade) Place

(Photos courtesy of Laura, the party's host)

It’s time to play the Pyramid!

Get your heads together, folks. Let’s do it!

Hayrack rides, bonfire, wiener roast, glow sticks, candy bags, games of tag, lemonade, hot chocolate, friends from the two classes…

Basket Case

There’s nothing quite like grabbing a good book, settling into a comfortable couch – or a plastic clothes basket – and reading the morning away.

Witching Hour

Christine O’Donnell, U.S. Senate candidate and Tea Party darling from Delaware, famously declared that she is not a witch (as did SNL’s brilliant Kristen Wiig, in satire), but there were plenty of witches – and goblins, superheroes, doggies, and rock stars – at the Halloween party at the UU this evening.

It's the Great Pumpkin Patch Jumping Pillow, Charlie Brown

The local pumpkin patch just added this giant bouncy thing to their list of to-do activities. The sign said that it was for kids of all ages, which we took to mean that it was okay for those of us who are kids at heart.

On Leave(s)

Yard work is hard work, and so it’s best that I rest.

You Know Where I’m Homecoming from

The nearby public university goes all out for their homecoming, especially when it comes to the parade, which snakes through the downtown area and campus, and always attracts a sizable crowd. The kids like seeing the floats, but they’re most excited about the amount of candy that’s thrown in their direction by the parade participants. The parade serves as a pre-Halloween Halloween, and although their teeth and bodies will face a barrage of sugar at the end of the month, it’s mighty tough to tell your children, even the 18-month-old, to hold off until then.

A Star Is Born

Stellar means outstanding or immense, of course, but in its literal sense it means of, relating to, involving, or resembling a star. It is born of the Latin word stella, meaning star.

I introduce to you Stella Rose, the stellar names of the first child of my dear friends Gaston and Kathleen, for she is both bright and beautiful.