the sweetest halloween

i don't know if it was the lack of sleep (i've worked until 1 a.m. more often than is healthy recently) or just my permanent sentimentality, but i wound up tearing up on the couch last night watching our children sort their candy.  i wrestled with whether to post this on the blog because, well, it's a little on the saccharine side.  i never want to be that mom who boasts loudly to anyone who will listen about how amazing/brilliant/selfless/[insert annoying positive adjective here] her children are.  one only needs to look at the most recent post to read all about one of my children's flaws.

but then i thought -- screw it.  this is real life.  this is what happened.  and i want to document it.

an ecstatic princess leia with a very slippery wig, and a soccer player who apparently wants to look as tough and non-smiley as all the professional athletes do in their photos

 we got home really late on halloween night due to all the fun.  we joined the neighborhood "parade" (i use that term loosely; it was more like 50 kids en masse walking down the street before dispersing) and then tricked-or-treated for an hour or so.  i peeled away to return home and man the door and throw together a late dinner, and chris and princess leia and the soccer star returned home a half-hour later.  we were still eating at the time they normally go to bed, so when it came time for the annual tradition of counting and sorting their candy -- a math lesson of the highest level if i ever saw one -- i told them it would have to wait until the following afternoon.

so thursday found us in the family room, me on the couch as i waded through their bursting-at-the-seams school folders, and them sprawled on the floor as they waded through their bursting-at-the-seams plastic orange pumpkins. 

think they're excited about all this sugar?  how can you tell?

susanna finished counting first.  "92!" she proudly exclaimed.

liam finished a minute or so later.  "110!" he said.

i looked up.  i steeled myself for gloating on his part and pouting on hers. (i don't know why; that's typically not their style.  i guess it's my style.)  but before any of that could take place, liam took over.

"you said you had 92, right?"  she nodded.  "um, okay ... and i got 110 ... so that means all i have to do is give you ... um ... 9 of mine, and then we have the same number.  right, mommy?"

i just sat there, sort of dumbfounded, while he continued to work through the calculations in his head.

"right, mommy?  92 plus 9 is 101, and then i'd also have 101 ... "  he started to count out nine pieces from his pumpkin to give to susanna.  "mommy, why are you crying?"

who knows.  maybe most siblings are like this.  maybe most siblings, even at the ripe old ages of 6 and 8, are best friends.  i should hope they are.  but as i hastily wiped my eyes and had them pose for a picture, i thought for the gazillionth time in my life: we are so blessed.

how sweet it is.

susanna planted a big one on liam's lips right as i started to snap the picture.  i guess anyone who had just been given nine pieces of primo chocolate for doing nothing in return would probably have the same reaction