I'm not a big fan of Halloween. Kelly, my perpetually young at heart husband, loves it. So we began dressing the boys in costume when they were 9 months old. At first, it was just for pictures to share with friends and family and then came the inevitable trick or treating last year. I have to admit that despite my horror at the absolute crap that is distributed (and allowed to be consumed) on this day, I've had fun choosing themed costumes for the boys (and even Mom and Dad last year). As we approach October, I'd begun thinking of my next clever family theme when B announced that he wanted to be a Great Horned Owl for "costa-tune" (this is what he calls Halloween). I expressed my interest in his very specific choice and we talked about the birds of prey we'd seen at the Chattahoochee Nature Center recently but I felt certain that this choice would be forgotten once the trip to see the owls was not so fresh on his mind. Ah, but he is a smart one and has become determined that this is what he will be. In light of his revelation, C has decided that he too would like to be a bird "with wings and a beak and I want to take off my hands because I just want wings"...what? C, it seems, believes that if he is costumed like a bird, with wings and all, that he can really fly, because "that's what birds do". I fear he may give it a try if we put him in wings. H has decided to be a lion (wearing a costume he wore 2 years ago when we had a Wizard of Oz theme). Maybe I can be the zookeeper - oh wait, I already am!!!
First Halloween 2004
The Coach and his Team
(these are the infamous jerseys - chosen by the boys)
- drive the car (not H though, he is just "going to sit in the seat next to someone" - a driver perhaps??)
- come back downstairs after everyone else goes to bed
- go to work in a big office
- go to Colorado (B is infatuated with the idea of the big, snow covered mountains...we've been talking about states a lot this week while assembling a giant puzzle of the US)
I'm sure there was more but a few hours later, it's becoming a blur. This post originally started as a look at the boys' growing independence and their exercising autonomy but I realize it's diverted and is not very cohesive. I feel like much of the last 4 years is a blur. We are moving at warp speed and there's little time to slow down and catch my breath or reflect. I am a terrible journaler (read: I do not do it) though I have tried to get started many times. I'd hoped this blog would serve as a journal but I find that most days, by the time I can actually think about what has transpired and mull it over a bit, I'm completely exhausted. I am also a little bit (okay, a lot) uneasy about sharing my innermost thoughts with the entire World Wide Web. I am drawn to mothering blogs by women who are brutally honest, sharing their vulnerability, their hopes, their selves. I am not sure I am that brave or that honest. For the sake of my boys, I will try. I will try to transcribe our lives so that this beautiful history is not lost. It may not make much sense to anyone else as I record our present and our past in a hodge podge of random posts, but it will be something. And I am grateful for that. I am grateful for this crazy life...
When one is grateful for every little thing, one realizes that
nothing is a little thing. Who does not thank for little will not thank for much.
(I took this quote from a post about Gratitude on another blog. I love the profound simplicity).Okay, I have been trying to format this for too long. Apologies if it is not laid out as it should be on the screen...I am a technological illiterate!!