One of the things I like best about Halloween is that I can legitimately claim no credit when people oooh and ahhh over our families costumes. This year’s idea was a group effort that I walked in on in the final stages of hammering it out. A suggestion that we be planets became a suggestion that we be the gods that the planets are named after and I said, “Cool!” And Micah, as always, took it from there.
This year he took it to another level by learning to use foam to create costume pieces. Each god had a prop or two—a staff or a spear— and then their symbol as well. And as if that weren’t enough, Micah made trick-or-treat “bags” that were painted to look like the planet/moon that each child was embodying. So, you know, business as usual.
The only disappointment about this year was that a couple of the props were lost before we actually went trick-or-treating, which was probably more disappointing for me and Micah than for the children who lost them. Somehow the show went on.
The minutes before the curtain went up found the stage directors frantic and stressed, the actors dazed and confused (and, in one case, exhausted to the point of tears with no pacifier in sight), backstage a mess of fabric scraps, unused pieces of foam, and discarded clothing (not to mention a sink full of unwashed dishes), but as soon as we walked out onto the stage of Halloween night none of that mattered. Smiles all around. Magic in the air. Everyone played their part and no one noticed or missed the missing props and imperfections.
It’s a good trick that turns out to be the perfect treat at the end of a harried but joyful month.
If someone has any words of wisdom on how to handle birthdays that are only a day apart, I would love to hear them. Oliver’s birthday always overshadows Micah’s just a bit because, well, the boy has expectations. Micah is a good sport about it of course, but I just want to celebrate him a little bit more than we are able to manage. It feels like a box to check before we move on to Oliver’s birthday—and that doesn’t sit right with me. So . . . I’m all ears.
Having said that, I think this year was my most successful attempt so far. We woke Micah up on his birthday with a flaming pumpkin pie and sang him the birthday song. This was because we had a date planned for that night but I wanted the kids to be able to celebrate with him as well.
But aside from breakfast pie and a date night, Micah’s birthday is mostly prepping for Oliver’s birthday. I actually spent Wednesday night working on a bat-shaped birthday cake for him and a good bit of Thursday making bat-shaped cookies for him to take to school, finishing up the cake, and getting the last of the gifts ready.
The only reason there were lots of presents to prepare was because of the running joke we’ve had going that all he was going to get for his birthday was something that rhymes with “smunderwear.” So the first several gifts he opened were underwear wrapped in different ways. I think it was among the best moments of the week to see him totally get into the joke and laugh and laugh and laugh with each new pair he opened. He was equally gracious with the rest of the gifts as well—and was especially excited about the plush Bob-omb from our friend James. (Bob-omb, from the Mario video games, has quickly become another member of the family.)
I definitely feel that birthday week was a success. We had a great time and we loved celebrating Micah and Oliver. They are totally top 5 favorite people in this house. But if I could just spread the love and energy out a little more evenly . . . you know, that would be great.
He kinda sorta bear crawls. He squirms and rolls and sits by himself. But mostly he likes to pull himself up.
It’s all fun and games until he can’t figure out how to get back down. Or, even better/worse, until he falls down and hits his head.
But he is happier standing up. So while it stinks to have to rescue him in the middle of the night when he is standing in his crib and doesn’t know what to do about it, or to have to hear his head hit the floor again, it is nice to know that he is making progress. When he is happier, we are happier.
And before you know it he’ll be able to run away from his loving sister’s firm embrace if he wants to. Although I don’t know why he would want to.
If someone could please teach Felix how to sleep for more than two hours at a time, that would be greatly appreciated. I’m certainly no good at it.
This was especially tragic on Friday night when Micah and I went to bed at midnight (as usual) with plans to wake up at 5:00 (not usual) so we could get out the door and on the road to the Hartford temple open house as early as we could.
Five hours of sleep is not ideal, but we can make it work. Four hours of sleep, however, is brutal. So brutal. And that is what Felix did to us. Sometime around 3:00 he woke up and I tried several times and several ways of getting him back to sleep. It wasn’t until I played him a music video sometime after 4:00 that I was successful. I put him back in bed and fell asleep for another 30 minutes before I had to get up again.
But we did get out the door and on the road and we made it to the open house just fine. (I fell asleep on the road more than Micah did, which was probably for the best since he was driving.) It was beautiful, of course, and the kids were pretty impressed by the celestial room and by the mirrors in the sealing room reflecting each other forever and ever and ever and ever. I was happy to see that they were excited to take the postcard pictures home with them.