Friday, November 26, 2010

Christmas Baby (not Jesus, the other one)

My sister Melissa is due with her first baby on December 26, so we refer to him/her (her, in my opinion) as the Christmas Baby - although personally I am crossing my fingers that Melissa delivers on the first of January, not Christmas. How cool would that birthdate be? 1-1-11. It seems fictional, kind of like having a 555- phone number. (Also, if the baby comes early enough on 1/1/11, she'll get media coverage).

Oh, are we excited about this baby! Christmas Baby is going to be spoiled rotten. My sister Deb and I threw a baby shower for Melissa earlier in the month.


Diaper cake


Sisters & Mom

Melissa with Abby & Gracie

Friday, November 19, 2010

Hello?... Hello?... Blogger?

Yes, we are still here. I've made a discovery: when life gives me lemons, I feel a greater desire to blog. However, family members who may be responsible for those lemons don't appreciate being the subject of the blog posts.

It may come as a surprise that I’ve never enjoyed keeping a journal, given that I manage to blog enthusiastically about essentially nothing most of the time. The problem (for me) with journaling is that it’s private, and I tend to broadcast my stresses to whomever will listen. Like many extroverts, I think best when I am talking, and like to talk out my problems with others. Even though blogging isn’t the same as talking, it feels like communication with others and is therefore rewarding to me.

Until there are problems too personal for the blog. That’s the case right now. No one over the age of three in the family is exactly open to living out an online reality narrative when it comes to Really Hard Stuff, and I can’t blame them. (Cavities and fury over one’s wardrobe are one thing; personal issues are another). The challenge for a certain extroverted blogger is that when jagged emotions are lurking just below the surface, making even the usual act of venting to friends painful, the blog would really serve a need, but it can’t be utilized.

And now, a light smack on my own head, in the form of a quote I like:
When I hear somebody sigh, "Life is hard," I am always tempted to ask, "Compared to what?"
- Sydney Harris

Saturday, November 6, 2010

A Jackson Kind of Halloween

Halloween is always a creativity challenge. Sometimes you start with a great vision, but when you try to execute it, your homemade hooded ghost costume results in your mother asking, “Is he dressed as a nun?” (see Ethan As Ghost, circa 2001) or your Yoda pumpkin requires extensive reconstructive surgery and 31 straight pins to keep its face from collapsing.

I am happy to report that 2010 was a pretty good year for pumpkins and costumes at our house. We made costumes for Abby and Gracie that turned out like what we imagined, and the jack-o-lanterns mostly stayed intact. (Abby’s spider web was the exception – straight pin city).

Mira assisted in the pumpkin gutting this year. One might assume that a toddler would appreciate pulling mushy stuff out of a vegetable, but this is a girl who doesn’t like her hands to be messy. Also, you may recall that she made her particular neatness known to us at a very young age. (She always brings to mind the kid’s song, “There’s a Place For Everything, and Everything In Its Place”). As such, she was uncomfortable with the pumpkin guts out of the pumpkin, and after a while we realized that she was putting all the guts back in the shells.

Randy was all set to hand her the carving tools and let her have a go at a pumpkin, but when I questioned the wisdom of giving a toddler a serrated knife, he admitted that he was motivated by keeping her busy, not by providing artistic freedom. (You don’t really ever imagine having to say to your spouse, “We can’t give a two-year-old knives just to keep her out of our hair…” But there you go).

We carved while she napped.

She was a darling little cow - or “moo,” as she called her costume. (I kept thinking affectionately, “How Now, Brown Cow?” when I looked at her. Is that weird?) She liked trick-or-treating with me, but wanted to be carried for some reason. I think she was a little weirded-out by the other costumed kids on the street. I didn’t mind carrying her, except I started to worry that I looked like one of those trashy trick-or-treaters my sister and I ridicule. (You know the ones. They come from a different neighborhood and go door-to-door for hours with their un-costumed three-month-old baby, filling a pillowcase with candy meant for children. Children old enough to have teeth). I swear, Mirabelle and I only went to see the neighbors we know!

Here are lots of pictures from the big night.

Pippi, cow and candy

Sweet little moo-er

Gracie as Pippi

Abby as our fave candy (Mmm, Reeses!)

"Aztec Sun" by Jules
"Carnivore" by Abby
"Toddler Tantrum" by Jules
(I have no idea) by Gracie
"Crazy Monster Face" by Ethan
"Grinch" by Jules
"Webby" by Abby/Randy
"Werewolf" by Ethan
"Stitches" by Gracie
"Three-Eyed" by Randy
"Snoopy" by Gracie