2011: the year in review

it's 8:30 pm on new year's eve, and, like 100 of our closest friends at our club,  we have already partied and eaten and danced and celebrated and even counted down and rung in the new year.  the balloons all dropped at precisely 7:30 amidst a chorus of thousands dozens of horns being blown by our children, and if we were cautious not to wake up on january 1st with a hangover, we'll now all certainly have one based on the sheer volume that's still echoing in our heads.  think i'm exaggerrating?  check out the footage below, courtesy of a friend of ours:

but with the closure of one year brings some reflection.  on our way home tonight i thought about our highlights.  here are the top three for each of us, in random order. 

susanna

• teeth:  after months and months of rockin' in its socket, susanna finally lost her first tooth.  and a few weeks later, she lost her second.  she corresponded with the tooth fairy herself, and is now sporting an attractive gap on her bottom row .

• the pageant:  surprising all who know her well, she took on the role of mary in the christmas pageant like a broadway star.  no insecurity or uncertainty like we all expected; she just accepted the role with excitement and smiled her sweet little smile the entire time she was in front of an audience of 500.  and it occurred to me that the next time she'll be walking down the aisle of st. michael's in a veil will be on her wedding day.   (and when that happens, let's just hope that there will be no baby involved.)

• kindergarten: she was a teary mess the afternoon i picked her up from her evaluation day (when they meet the new kindergartners in smaller groups), but after she was assigned a teacher and learned that she already knew half of her classmates, she perked right up.  she loves her class, absolutely adores her teachers, and enjoys the bus ride home in the afternoons.  and with a big brother to walk her to her classroom each morning, how could her introduction to elementary school be anything but stellar?

liam

• school: we had a rocky start to the school year with a new principal who tried to dismantle the plan we had in place for liam this year, but after a transition period, i'm happy to say that he's getting what he needs.  he has exceptional teachers who understand him and challenge him and motivate him.  and as long as he's happy and continues to love school, that's all we'll ever ask.(below is his first-ever project, a study on sunrise and sunset times for december.)

• sports: i thank God every day that sports were invented.  for if not, i'm not sure what liam would do with 95% of his time.  this year he's played baseball, winter soccer, spring soccer, fall soccer, tennis, golf, swimming, and basketball.  and if that weren't enough, he received a football and a (street) hockey goal for christmas and has spent the past week out in the cul-de-sac playing those.  if you ask him his favorite, his answer is always whatever sport is in season; he loves them all.  and you want to know what he likes to do just about as much as playing sports?  watch them.  he's been to hockey games, college basketball games, PGA golf tournaments, soccer tournaments, high school basketball tournaments, college baseball games, and professional hockey games (and i'm sure others that i'm forgetting).  and you want to know what he likes to do just about as much as playing and watching sports?  read about them.  the very first thing he does every single morning is run to the end of the driveway to pick up the newspaper so he can devour the sports section over breakfast.  the boy is obsessed.  (because i will never let him play organized football, i decided to indulge him a bit and chose a football picture to include in this post.  the boy can throw a perfect spiral ... too bad it's the most dangerous sport in this country and his overprotective momma won't let him play it for real.)

•  Y guides: raleigh's Y guides program (the Y stands for YMCA) is the largest in the country, bringing together a dozen first grade boys and their fathers in a tribe that meets once a month and plans amazing outings.  different tasks and activities earn them patches that they put on their vests, and each of them have their own Y guides name.  (chris's is The Artful Dodger, in reference to his love for the los angeles baseball team.  liam's is Wee Sports Fan, in reference to his love of Wii Sports.)

sara

• the renovation:  i have a kitchen i can cook in!  and an office i can work in!  and a breakfast room we can eat in!  sure, the renovation process took twice as long as it was supposed to, required way more money than we'd anticipated, and necessitated us moving out for the majority of the summer, but all the pain was worth it.  i still walk into my house and smile at what i see (and marvel at how we survived the house in its previous state for all those years.)
  

• work: i took on an additional online teaching job in august, increasing my hours to an almost-full time schedule.  so i still synchronously teach local seventh graders who have been expelled, but now am  asynchronously teaching special education high schoolers from all over the state as well.  it's been a huge adjustment for me but now that i'm four months into it, i think i'm finally getting the hang of time management.  (i've never been a quick study.)
• an empty nest:  i'm not sure i'll ever get the hang of having the house to myself from 8:00 in the morning to 3:30 in the afternoon.  most of those hours are spent on work, but i also spend a lot of time volunteering at the kids' school, being involved in activities at church, and playing tennis.  i love the flexibility i have now that both kids are in "real" school, but my favorite part of day is at 3:25 every afternoon, when super and i walk to the end of the cul-de-sac to meet the bus.  does seeing your children's smiling faces as they bound down the steps, eager to regale you with stories of their day, ever get old?  i hope not.   

chris

• a new car: my poor husband had been driving around a car with 150,000 miles and a peeling sorority sticker on it for eight years. it was way past time to get a new set of wheels, and he finally did this fall.  
• vestry: chris was elected at st. michael's and will serve a three-year term.  a huge honor, a lot of work, and it couldn't be suited to anyone better.  (in my humble opinion.)
  
• the shed: so i get a new kitchen, and chris gets a new shed.  seems fair.  but this shed is nice!  it has plenty of space to store all the outside crap and tools and toys and miscellaneous items that would otherwise have no place to go since our previous storage room is now our breakfast room.  and to make it even more spectacular, he received a solar panel for christmas that he's attached to the shed's roof and can now generate power.  how cool is that?  (okay.  it's not as cool as the kitchen.  but still.) 

family

• a baby!:  my little brother, ben, and his wife, laura, are expecting!  they shared their happy news with us over the phone the night we came home from the state fair --  already on a sugar high from our funnel cakes, this just propelled us into another realm of joy.  each night as we say our bedtime prayers, we thank God for "the baby in aunt laura's belly".  and to make it even more special, the due date for my first nephew or niece (and the kids' first cousin) is actually may 18 -- susanna's birthday.

since we obviously don't have a picture of the baby, i thought i'd share one of us at the fair less than an hour before we learned the big news

• a ring!:  my little sister, leslie, is engaged!  and the story behind how she shared the news is a good one ... on christmas eve, there were ten of us seated around our dining room table for dinner: the four of us, my parents, chris's parents, and leslie and richard (her longtime boyfriend.)  the conversation was pleasant until liam decided to use his best seven-year old tactics to bring out the awkward.  "so, aunt leslie, why aren't you and richard married yet?"  but instead of an uncomfortable silence, leslie simply smiled and held up her left hand for us all to see.  richard had proposed the day before in minnesota, and she hadn't breathed a word of her big news!  (thank goodness for awkward seven-year olds, right?)  we're now looking forward to flying out to california for the wedding sometime in 2012.

• disneyworld:  and speaking of trips, the highlight for the four of us this year was our venture to disneyworld in february.  it took a lot of planning, a lot of driving, and a lot of $$$, but it will surely go down in the books as one of the best vacations we'll ever have.  (and that's why, kids, we likely won't be going back any time soon.  why mess with success?)

i say this every year as i sign off ... but our true highlights are the health and love and happiness and faith we continue to be blessed with.  we strive each day to show our gratitude for all that we've been given.

and as the kids have been saying to everyone they've seen today ... "see you next year!"

the pageant

thirty-one years ago the story goes that my mom hung up the phone one december afternoon and excitedly told me that i was going to be mary in the st. michael's christmas pageant on christmas eve.

and i promptly told her i had no interest in being mary.  nope, i insisted, after she suggested i think about it.  not gonna do it. so she called back the coordinator and let her know that i had declined the offer.

of course, as early evidence of my severe issue with indecisiveness, i woke up the next morning with a new attitude.  "okay," i said.  "i've decided that i will be mary after all."

and in an early lesson of tough love, my mom barely looked up from the paper.  "too bad," she replied.  "they've already found someone else."

i was devastated, but vowed to be the best pageant angel i could be. and then ... my luck changed.  my mom got another call from the pageant coordinator on the morning of december 23rd, informing us that mary had come down with the chicken pox, and wondering if i'd like to take over.

and a star was born.

ha!  hardly.  for all the hype and hoopla surrounding the casting of mary every year, she really doesn't do much.  gabriel, of course, steals the show, and even gets to hold a microphone to proclaim the good news.  joseph talks about how his wife is going to have a baby and asks about room in the inn.  shoot, even the innkeeper gets a few lines.  but mary?  nada.  she just walks down the aisle looking as serene as possible and later places a baby doll in a wooden trough.  still, i practiced all that day and the next, leading up to my big moment.  and i suppose i did a satisfactory job, because there aren't any family stories of failure or embarrassment; of course, there aren't any pictures either.  (maybe i have made this event into a bigger deal than it actually was at the time.)

but here's where i think the story actually does become a big deal, at least to me.  thirty-one years later to the day, i sat in the front pew of the exact same church, and watched our daughter walk down the same aisle in the same costume.  susanna was also mary -- a serene, sweet mary -- and surprised us all with her confidence.  i felt sure that she'd get to church that morning and balk, since she has a tendency to change her mind at the last minute.  (not quite sure where she gets that.) so i was mentally prepared to resort to bribery to get her to walk down that aisle.  and who could blame her?  it's one thing to agree to do it a few weeks ahead of time; it's quite another to stand at the back of the church and muster up the courage to trek down a 50-yard aisle with 500 pairs of eyes focused solely on you.  but apparently we didn't give our reserved second-born enough credit -- because she never wavered.

and when i looked at her, i could actually see in susanna's eyes the same kind of reaction to gabriel's tidings that mary has in the bible.  i could see her half-smile, her reluctance to bask in the limelight but her willingness to do what was asked of her.  i could imagine susanna quietly accepting gabriel's news, surprised to be chosen, but sure of her abilities.  decades ago, i had initially declined the offer.  i wasn't sure i wanted to take on that responsibility; i didn't know that i was the right choice.  but susanna?  she knew that she could do it.  she never doubted the outcome.  she said yes.

"i am the Lord's servant," mary says in the gospel of luke.  "may it be to me as you have said." with those two sentences, mary became one of the most important people in the bible, and certainly the most important in the story leading up to Jesus's birth.  despite the amount of lines that are uttered in the pageant, we all know that it's not joseph's, or the innkeeper's, or even gabriel's big moment.  it's mary's.  mary really was the star of the show -- thousands of years ago in nazareth and bethlehem, and on christmas eve of 2011, in the form of a quiet and trusting blond-haired, blue-eyed, five-year old little girl.

receiving gabriel's message

mary, the little gray donkey, and joseph

lovingly placing baby Jesus in the manger

wordless wednesday, christmas style

meeting the big man at our club's santa brunch

enjoying the craft table at the museum of history family holiday party

one of the four main christmas food groups: cookie dough

making gingerbread houses at school

gofster's back, making snow angels on the dining room table

gofster vs. barbie in a game of guess who (notice that they've chosen the characters sarah & chris) ... my money's on gofster to win

stuffing build-a-bears at the club for duke children's hospital

they were thrilled to be given matching christmas pajamas ... wonder how many more years that will last?

an instant message

this is a story i first shared on the blog a few years ago.  i revised it and contributed it to our church's annual book of advent devotionals. 

I stared at my computer screen on a December day a few years back, feeling the same emotions that had plagued me for months.  I was frustrated.  Disappointed.  Bewildered.  This was not the career path I had envisioned when I graduated from college with a degree in mathematics.  

Once upon a time, my career path was what I had envisioned.  After dreaming of becoming a teacher for as long as I can remember, I saw my dream realized; I taught middle school math for eight years in three different school systems and loved just about every minute of it.  I challenged and motivated and inspired my students, forging meaningful relationships with them that lasted long after they left my classroom.  Last spring, my own children were even in the wedding party of a young woman I had taught when she was in the sixth grade.  At every point in my life, I just knew that God had called me to teach, and I received daily affirmation that I was indeed answering His call.

But then I became a mother, and I answered God’s call to step away from the classroom, leaving behind a job I loved but eager to begin my new one.  I missed my students but I always knew I’d return.  So when, five years later, I was offered a part-time position teaching high school math online, I jumped at the chance.  What could be better?  I thought.  It’s the best of both worlds: I’ll be teaching, but I’m still at home with my children.

Within weeks, however, I began to question my decision.  This was a far cry from the kind of teaching I was used to, from the profession I so adored.  My new students were all teenagers who had been expelled from school; they had committed an offense so serious that they were not allowed back on campus for the remainder of the year.  All of a sudden, I wasn’t sharing my love of algebra with a room full of gifted and inquisitive children who hung on my every word.  Instead, I was speaking through a webcam to a group of juvenile delinquents who often paid attention only during the commercial breaks of Jerry Springer.

It was on that December day that I had finally had enough.  I had spent hours creating an interactive lesson that required my students to insert their responses on our webpage.  But instead of insightful answers that demonstrated their mastery of the algebra curriculum, I saw my screen begin to fill up with phrases and drawings that were clearly gang-related.  (The Crips all used blue ink; the Bloods used red.  By this point I was already well-versed in gang vernacular.)  Disgusted, I shut down the webpage and just sat there for a few moments in silence.  This was not, I felt, what God was calling me to do.  So why was I doing it?  Why do I teach?

And then an instant message appeared on my screen, from a student who had just recently joined my class.  I stared at the blinking icon for a few seconds before opening it.  “Heyyyy Mz Mann,” it began.  “I’m being induced to have my second baby tomorrow so I might miss class.”  I typed a response immediately, letting her know I would help in any way that I could, but before I hit enter she had logged off.   I wondered if I’d ever see her again.

But the next day, her username appeared in my virtual classroom.  I texted her, asking if her plans had changed.

“I already had my baby,” she replied.  “He’s in the crib right next to me and I’ve got my laptop in the hospital bed.”  And not only was she present, but she participated in the class, answering questions and solving problems and stepping away only once, briefly, to change a diaper.  When our class ended and everyone else had left, I spoke to her through my headset, telling her how much her dedication impressed me.

"Oh Mz Mann," she replied, "I need this.  I need to finish high school.  I got to show my kids that school's important.  I don't want them making the same mistakes I made.  I know I don't do that good in math, but I'm trying hard.  I'm learning.  I'm doing the best I can."  I then realized that this online program was the best chance she had of finishing high school while taking care of two small children.  This program, which I had begun to doubt was even worthwhile, was her lifeline.

I thought a lot about her that month, as we counted down the days to Christmas.  Surrounded by images of Mary holding a baby Jesus, I couldn’t help but think of my student, a teenager herself, bringing a baby into this world in less-than-ideal circumstances.  As we read Luke’s Gospel describing Mary’s total acceptance of the role that God had chosen for her, I began to evaluate my own role and what God had chosen for me.  I wondered if Mary had mentors to guide her, and vowed to serve as a mentor of sorts to my student, who desperately needed role models in her life.  

I knelt in church that Sunday in Advent, pondering God’s wisdom and timing with the birth of our Savior, and humbled by His wisdom and timing in my life, thousands of years later.  I had asked a question, and the answer was so perfect and so complete that I had no doubt it was from Him.   Because this – well, this is why I teach.

wordless wednesday

as i seal my last christmas card (which has been even more of an ordeal than usual, given that i somehow lost my type-A excel spreadsheet with my addresses that i've maintained since the beginning of time), i was inspired to take a trip down memory lane.  seems memory lane is rather short and only goes back to 2005, since i'm missing liam's first christmas card.  still, looking back at these makes me realize how far we've come.

it also reminds me that getting an acceptable photo to use has always been, and i'm afraid will forever be, not for the faint of heart.

2005: a bald liam, and an announcement that another bald baby was on the way

2006: two new family additions: a teeny tiny susanna, and super.  (incidentally, this is the only time super has graced our christmas card.  you think getting a picture of two children is tough?  try two children and a dog)

2007:  matching smocked outfits ... how i long for the days ... this might be my favorite so far

2008: a move to raleigh necessitated a change of address card.  look at those chubby cheeks!

2009: on day six of chris's annual i-don't-shave-at-the-beach week.  next time, we'll take the picture on day one

2010: liam's missing some teeth and a belt (funny what i obsess over)

2011: and we're back on a swing.  seems we've come full circle

farewell, chloe

we said goodbye to a member of our family last month.  actually, she was a member of our family before we were even a family, or before chris and i were even a couple.  her name was chloe and she was the first car i'd ever owned.  (i think back when i was 21, it was cute to give names to cars.  i have since ceased this practice.)

chloe was my college graduation present, and i remember picking her up at a dealership outside of D.C. where i moved to start teaching at an alexandria middle school.  it turned out that i was the salesman's first sale ever, and when he surprised me by taking a picture (with a polaroid camera -- this happened in such ancient history that digital cameras weren't yet mainstream) i think he was doing it as much for me as he was for himself.

even more impressive than my scrunched socks and high-waisted shorts is the fact that i actually located this photo among the thousands of pictures i have from the 1990s.  apparently i used to actually print out pictures and put them into albums

chloe has certainly led an active life.  less than a year after i got her, she was stolen and raced around in a high-speed chase in old town alexandria before the joy ride came to a sudden halt when the driver crashed into a police cruiser.  an interesting tidbit: the thief was a fourteen-year old student at my middle school, who happened to find my keys in the stairwell and decided to grab a few buddies and take her out for a spin.  i had unknowingly dropped my keys while lugging up a few boxes of manipulatives and didn't realize i had lost them until that afternoon, when i prepared to leave.  i caught a ride home with a coworker and had chris drive me back that evening with my spare set.  i'll never forget arriving to a completely empty parking lot ... and asking him to circle around one more time to see if the car might magically appear.  it was all a bit surreal.

poor chloe.  i've often wondered what happened to that kid who stole her.  i'm still awaiting the restitution that was promised me ...

after two months of almost-total reconstruction (why the insurance company did not calculate it as a total loss, i will never understand) and 15+ years of driving around DC, raleigh, asheville, and raleigh again, the 145,000 miles began to catch up with her.  she'd shudder when we braked on hills; in the summer, whenever we turned, cold liquid would seep out near our feet.  this fall, we knew it was time to say goodbye and actually donated her to a local charity, who seemed incredibly grateful to inherit our family member.

chris is thrilled to finally have a new car that doesn't have a tri delta alumnae sticker on the back left window (and probably even more thrilled to have dry feet when the air conditioning is on.)  the kids are excited to ride in the back seat any time they're given the opportunity.  and i'm enjoying the stick shift -- it reminds me of the car i drove in college, when i was younger and carefree and without booster seats and goldfish crumbs all over the floorboard. i calculated that if this replacement car lasts as long as chloe did, we could very well be driving it when we drop off the kids at college.  (shoot -- in 15 years, we could be driving it to liam's college graduation.)

so here's to a fresh odometer and a new set of wheels.  here's to another 145,000 miles and the adventures they'll entail.  and here's to chloe, beginning a new life wherever she may be.

the tooth shall set you free

susanna lost her second tooth a few weeks back and began peppering us with questions that only the tooth fairy herself could answer.  (and yes, i know i'm the most terrible mother of a second child, whose first lost tooth didn't even garner a passing mention in the blog ... suffice it to say that it happened sometime in late summer and it thankfully did not involve me in the least.)

so i suggested to susanna that she write down her most pressing question and leave a note for the tooth fairy beside the pirate doll that was holding her lost tooth.  (to rub more salt in the wound, not only have i been remiss in sharing such an important milestone, but we also at some point have lost the special ballerina doll that is supposed to hold susanna's lost teeth, and have had to resort to borrowing liam's pirate instead.)

here is susanna's inquiry:

"Dear Tooth Fairy, What do you do with the tooth? 
Love, Susanna" (punctuation mine)

 and this is what she found tucked next to her special two dollar bill:

what i'm thankful for

this was the conversation on the way to school one morning last week.

susanna: i don't think i really need you to walk me to my classroom anymore, liam.

me: you mean like he did the first few days of school, when i asked him to?

susanna: i mean like he has been ever since i started.

me (with an incredulous look in the rearview mirror): liam, have you really been walking susanna to her classroom for three months now?

liam: well, i didn't want her getting scared.  that hallway has lots of kids in it and they're mostly older than her.

me (tearing up a little, i admit): well, you can stop doing it now if you want to.  i think susanna's saying that she can handle things on her own. 

there's a pause while susanna apparently mulls things over.

susanna: well, maybe i'll be lonely.  so can you keep going with me, liam?

liam: sure.

the kids clambered out of the car, just like they always do, slinging their backpacks onto their shoulders and heading up the sidewalk to the entrance of the school, side by side, just like they always do.  but that morning, i held up the carpool line for just a few extra moments to soak it all in.

indecision

i swear i must be the most indecisive person on the planet.  well, maybe not the most indecisive, but i'm pretty far up there.  no -- i take that back.  i actually do think i'm the most indecisive.

but in all honesty, i hardly ever make a choice that i don't later question.  was there a better option?  should i have waited?  did i act too soon?  did i get too many, or not enough?  and so on.  (and on, and on.)  i've always hoped that this is one (of many) personality traits that skips a generation, but tonight, i saw genetics rear its ugly head in our daughter.

"what book should we read now?" susanna asked me as we were nestled into her bed for storytime.

"why don't you go over to your bookshelf and surprise me," i suggested.  we had just finished the most awful story ever written -- something about barbie surfer girl turning into a mermaid -- and i knew that no matter what she came back with, it had to be a vast improvement.

she stood facing her bookshelf, studying the spines intently.  she finally returned to the bed with three paperbacks and asked me which one i wanted to read.

"sweetheart, it's your decision," i told her.  (and let's be honest.  it's not that i necessarily wanted her to exercise her decision-making skills; i just couldn't make up my mind.)

"i know what to do!" she replied.  "i'll do eeny-meeny-miney-mo."  so she lined up the three books atop of her bright pink quilt and poised her finger in the air to begin, but then faltered.

"this is NOT going to work!" she sighed, exasperated.

"what's wrong now?"  i asked.

"i can't decide which one to start with."

love notes

it's amazing the effect kindergarten can have on a child in a mere nine weeks.  susanna has gone from a timid, apprehensive little girl who came home from her staggered entry day (the day when smaller groups of kindergartners go for a few hours to be evaluated prior to the beginning of school) crying, to a confident, excited student who bounds out of the car at dropoff and never looks back. she adores everything about kindergarten and loves to regale us with stories of her days.

her metamorphosis is not only in her demeanor, but also in her learning.  she now has an incredible grasp of numbers and is reading simple books fairly independently.  but her favorite thing to do now is to write.  she'll grab anything nearby -- a marker and a napkin, or a colored pencil and a notepad -- and sit down to document whatever's on her mind.  i have to admit that it sometimes tries my patience just a tad when it's the end of the day and i'm scrambling in the kitchen to get dinner ready and am being bombarded with questions like, "how do you spell 'excited'?" and "how do you spell 'bicycle'?", so i just try to remember that this interest in writing is a really incredible thing.  (even if i still sigh inwardly from time to time.)

i came across an interesting article a few months ago that really resonated with me, titled "how to talk to little girls".  i'm embarrassed to admit how difficult it has been to change my habits since reading it -- i had no idea how much i, and everyone i know, emphasize little girls' appearances over their far more important traits.  (please take the time to check out the article here to fully understand what i'm trying to say.)  

so all that she's mastering in kindergarten has dovetailed nicely with my new goal of recognizing her achievements as much as i possibly can.  my favorite projects of hers are the ones she does completely on her own, partly because she's showing more and more independence, and partly because of the pleasant surprises they are to us -- gifts, really -- when she proudly displays her work that we had no idea she was even doing.  yesterday she grabbed my hand and said, "come, mommy!  i made some treasures for you to see!"  and in the kitchen, i found four little post-it notes affixed to various drawers and cabinets, and one more upstairs near super's bed.

but i was happiest to see the fifth one.  it wasn't "i love my princess dress" or "i love my pretty hair".  it was far more important.  one that, as her parent, i will continue to remind her, and emphasize with her, and instill in her.  one i hope she'll continue to say, and believe, for the rest of her life.

a quite wordy wednesday

so here's the situation: i'm sitting downstairs, by myself, in a quiet house when everyone else is asleep.  i'm at the computer (where i always am these days, trudging through work) and i begin to hear noises outside.  i try to convince myself that it's just leaves rustling in the yard, and not some masked escaped convict prowling around the place, ready to murder me.  i start to ponder strategies: do i scream?  do i make a mad dash to the kitchen to grab a steak knife?  are the steak knives in the drawer, or all still sitting in the unloaded dishwasher?  would a paring knife be a better choice? or perhaps a pair of scissors that happen to be next to me at my desk ... or a nail file ... and then i begin to think back on the self-defense class i took in college to satisfy my p.e. requirement.  i wonder where the white karate-like robe i had to buy for that class wound up, fifteen years later. 

then i hear noises that are even closer, snap out of my reverie, and finally stand up and peek over the window that overlooks my desk.  and there, directly on the other side of the window -- literally three feet away from me, with merely a brick wall separating us -- is the nastiest raccoon i've ever laid eyes on. and not only is he nasty, but he is FAT.  and why is he fat?  because he's perched in the middle of super's bowl, chowing down on the dog food she left behind after dinner, which i'm starting to realize has been going on for months now by the looks of his size XXL behind. 

i'd like to say that i was brave and took care of the problem myself.  instead, i somehow ran upstairs with my toes curled in my slippers, aroused my poor husband out of a deep sleep, and made him take care of the thing.  which he did simply by flashing the porch light and rattling the door knob a few times.  (my hero.)

but that vile creature didn't sprint off the porch.  no, he just kind of casually glanced up at us, hauled his fat hiney out of the bowl, and sauntered out through the ripped screen on the porch door.  (chris must have repaired that thing a dozen times, and always, within twenty-four hours it's back to being ripped again.  we've been blaming super all this time.  falsely accused AND robbed of her food to boot -- poor pooch.)   i'm surprised the raccoon could squeeze his body through the slats after gorging himself on the iams, but he did, and then had the audacity to linger on the steps, obviously waiting for us to leave him alone so he could return to the scene of the crime and lick the bowl clean.

anyway, rather than focus on this disgusting chain of events, i'll choose to share pictures of our recent family outing to a pumpkin farm.  you'll see that the farm has added tons of things to do, from slingshots to cornhole to zip lines to tractor rides.  we had so much fun; so, you see?  there are even more things that i like about halloween than just the steady supply of candy.

come to think of it, i better make sure there isn't any candy sitting on the back porch.  with the dog food, the raccoon's a nuisance.  but if that thing were to get into my butterfingers, well, i might just have to go buy myself a rifle and become the redneck woman i was born to be.  no one messes with my the kids' chocolate.

corn maze

rolling around

liam hit the target with his very first try

ours went maybe two feet

 zip line!  that thing was fast

each "car" had a different name -- how fitting that the last one available was Susie Q (chris's nickname for susanna)

and, as they say, a good time was had by all

the H word

"why don't we have decorations on OUR house for halloween?" i hear from the back seat, as we drive through the neighborhood with the kids (apparently) marveling at the yards and homes of people far more festive than i am.

"because, kids, i hate halloween."

"MOM!" comes the swift admonition of the profanity police.  "you said the 'h' word!"

"you're right.  sorry.  i detest halloween."

and i'm not kidding.  i really don't like halloween.  i never have.  i don't like the ghosts and the goblins and the witches and the vampires and the monsters and the other nasty things kids dress up as, which can be downright scary, even to a 36-year old.  i don't like eerie music and fake fog and black cats and tombstones that litter people's yards in the attempt to, i don't know, get into the holiday spirit.  and i will never understand why the same people who hire housecleaners to get rid of their cobwebs, then go out to a craft store and buy materials to PUT cobwebs on their bushes and front porches.  (side note: i don't mind so much the pumpkins and haystacks and candy corn, so we do have a few decorations out.  i'm not a total halloween scrooge -- although as soon as november 1st hits, they're boxed up and back in the attic.)

you know what else i hate strongly dislike?  halloween costumes.  this i can link directly to my childhood, with a mother who never really got into the whole halloween thing herself.  i swear every year on the afternoon of october 31st, my younger sister and i would be racking our brains, trying to come up with something that could suffice as a costume.  we'd go find mom, who would shrug her shoulders and suggest that we go down to the basement to see what we could find.  inevitably we'd wind up trudging up the stairs holding the same rabbit costumes we had worn for the previous three years that were hand-me-downs from my dad's business partner's children.  the final year i wore my rabbit costume it wouldn't button in the back and the legs ended shortly below my knees, and that's how i knew i had officially participated in my last trick-or-treating.

another thing i hate strongly dislike: halloween catalogs.  my kids will spend hours poring over the costume section, oohing and aahing at every page. after declaring several different options his favorite, liam finally settled on wanting to be an Angry Bird this year.  i took one look at the price tag of $49.99 and became an Angry Woman.  (i did give in, somewhat, and bought a super mario costume at target for him.  i've actually never spent a dime on a halloween costume -- he was a soccer player last year and a baseball player the year before, both with uniforms he already owned, and we've borrowed the rest -- so i'm figuring an average of $2.50/year isn't too bad.  especially considering the fact that susanna was a carolina cheerleader, sporting the uniform she received as a christmas present last year.  from, come to think of it, my parents.  i suppose my mom has finally provided a halloween costume for someone.)

but none of this compares to how much i hate strongly dislike the kind of trick-or-treating we had last night.  normally, trick-or-treating is one of the small highlights of the season for me; i actually enjoy canvassing our neighborhood and seeing all the children on the sidewalks and watching liam and susanna's eyes light up as their plastic pumpkins grow increasingly heavy with candy.  but last night was not that kind of night.  it was FREEZING.  and it was POURING.  within two minutes of leaving the house, we were soaked.  i was dreaming of a hot bath and a glass of red wine before i'd even reached our mailbox.

at the end of the night, soaked to the bone -- but with smiles still on their faces. (mine was forced)

but the one good thing that came out of this dreadful day is sitting on my kitchen counter right now:  the five pounds of candy the kids collected just by walking down two streets.  each person who answered the door was so surprised/impressed/relieved to have trick-or-treaters that they wound up dumping their bowls into the kids' pumpkins.  and i'm extremely pleased to report that their loot isn't full of the junk like now-and-laters and good-and-plentys and organic gummy bears that inevitably wind up in the trash in early december.  this is five pounds of snickers and milky ways and twix and reeses, people!  kit kats and M&Ms and almond joys, all of which just so happen to be in the house all day, with me, while everyone else is gone.

so maybe halloween isn't so bad after all.

flight of fancy

when we caught wind of a Festival Day at a local regional airport a few weeks ago, our ears perked up.  (anything that's free tends to have that effect on us.)  it turned out that the family of one of my mom's friends owns a few planes that are housed at this airport, and they invited us for a private ride.  how can you say no to that?  especially when your daughter has never ridden in an airplane and has been hounding you for months about when she'll finally get the chance?  we figured this could buy us a few more years before she really starts complaining.

so we drove the 45 minutes south to this teeny tiny airport and patiently waited for our turn to ride a teeny tiny plane, and in the meantime, toured ancient aircraft and had our faces painted and tried our hands at cornhole.  when it was finally our turn, the kids eagerly clambered up the small set of steps and strapped themselves into a plush leather seat and craned their necks to see out windows that were just a tad higher than their heads.

i had to smile right before takeoff, when it struck me how totally laidback we were acting about this whole experience.  in a world where we sign our lives away for something as simple as a field trip where the kids walk across the street, there we were, about to be launched into air, and we had signed nothing.  there was no record anywhere of the mann family boarding this plane.  what would happen if there were an accident?  i didn't have any identification on me and even if chris did, it wouldn't even help us since surely his wallet would burn in the flames.  i supposed that my mom knew what we were doing and if a plane crash in sanford made the local news, she might get around to calling around to see if we might have been involved.  maybe.

some might say i was letting my imagination run wild.  but you might understand my thought process when i explain that we must have sat on the runway for a good fifteen minutes before the plane was really even functioning.  the pilot at one point turned around to us and said, "i'll just keep revving the engine until it turns over and sticks. this sort of thing happens whenever it's recently been in the air."  and he'd give it some more gas, and it would sputter for a few seconds and die again. the kids didn't seem to notice, and chris and i would exchange glances and then just laugh.  were we being laissez-faire?  irresponsible?   exceptionally trusting?  all of the above?

but my reasoning was this: we're all together.  i would have been freaking out if it were just two or three of us, leaving someone on the ground.  but we were with each other, and if something horrible happened, i figured that the four of us would all be headed to those pearly gates hand-in-hand.

and if it takes such a risk to get a free airplane ride for the kids, well, that seems like a pretty reasonable tradeoff.  don't you think?