No Monsters, Please

Surprise! All your friends show up at your door wearing outlandish costumes -- some in tights. What do you do?

a) Run and hide. After all, you're wearing tights, too. Sssshhh... it's a secret.
b) Gasp. Then say, "Oh my gosh. It's Jack!"
c) Faint.


This morning turned out to be almost more fun than Christmas. I kept the planned visit a secret from Cooper. But I did tell him he should wear his Batman costume this morning. He gladly got ready, then went about his day. Around 10:30 a.m. the doorbell rang. Cooper squealed (he likes answering the door), ran to the door, flung it open, and froze.


His little jumble of friends and preschool teacher all cheered and greeted him with a rowdy, "Trick or Treat." Then Coop pressed his face up against the storm door (glass) and pointed his finger until it made that gross double-jointed bend and excitedly whispered, "Oh my gosh. It's Jack!" Then he went around to each friend trying to guess who they were. It was a scream!


Of course we passed out treats -- a pre-made craft package with instructions and a candybar -- and went out on the porch for some pictures with our pumpkins. It was spectacular. Cooper was SO excited to see his buddies.


I learned a great lesson today. We all need our friends to tell us when we look good. These little friends milled around in a tight little cluster and told each other things like, “I like your wings.” I even watched as Jack (who handed down the Batman costume Cooper wore) patted Cooper on the stomach and said, “Your muscles look big.” Cooper puffed out his chest with pride! It was awesome.


So, call up your friends and let them know you like their wings. It will do wonders.


PS -- We also spent some time blowing bubbles in the basement. Magical!

In All Seriousness

Mason is a good sport. He gets bumped and bonked and generally harassed by Cooper all day, every day. Usually he smiles or just throws an elbow. He’s a fairly lovey-dovey baby and still loves to be cuddled and kissed to his mother’s content.

But sometimes, I can’t help but chuckle at pictures of him. He tends to look a little put out or as if we’re all just trying his patience – even when he is being permitted to eat cookies for breakfast.

He takes himself very seriously. I guess we should follow suit until he lets us know we can ease up.

PS – In “firsts” news he has added HOT to his vocabulary. It’s a combo self-composed sign and “ha!” When he sees hot food he starts waving his hand over it, sniffing his nose and huffing out a little, “Ha!”

Lost and Never Found

Have you ever been driving down the road and noticed a shoe? There it is, all by itself in the HOV lane of the freeway. Often it’s a fancy, patent-leather mary jane. Obvious mate to another perfectly cute number on the right foot of a five-year-old girl. I can’t help but run through the thoughts of that parent.

Bright sunny Sunday. They decide to take the family to church, or to a wedding, or to family pictures. Get everyone all gussied up. Load the car. Buckle in the kids. Off they go. And then, as parents have a conversation about whether a man named Kucinich could possibly get elected with a name like that, cutie with the ringlets pops off her shoe – that undoubtedly cost more than mum’s – and tosses it out the window on University just after Lincoln.

You’ve felt the panic before. The driving-me-crazy, I-had-it-just-this-morning, where-the-hell-is-it panic of not being able to find something. I feel this panic just about every day. I loose everything from my debit card to my children’s left socks. So when I see those lonely shoes in the road I suck in hard with the dread of that parent, then I laugh off my bloomin’ arse!

Today, we saw a plush Lightning McQueen upside down and a bit scruffy. It would shudder a little as the cars zoomed past it. And my thoughts wandered to how it found itself lying on its hood, dust in its plush.

Beautiful fall day. Perfect day for the zoo. Come on kids, let’s go. Yes, you can take one toy. Then as the mother bee-bops along to Madonna’s, “Like a Prayer” McQueen’s biggest fan catapults beloved stuffed car out the window. Then, tonight as the kids are settling down for bed can’t you just hear the screams, the cries, the sobs for, “My favorite Lightning McQueen.” The parent will be turning the house inside out! It’s sad really.

But I will be roaring with laughter. I’m sick. Seriously. Sick.

Lost and Never Found

Have you ever been driving down the road and noticed a shoe? There it is, all by itself in the HOV lane of the freeway. Often it’s a fancy, patent-leather mary jane. Obvious mate to another perfectly cute number on the right foot of a five-year-old girl. I can’t help but run through the thoughts of that parent.

Bright sunny Sunday. They decide to take the family to church, or to a wedding, or to family pictures. Get everyone all gussied up. Load the car. Buckle in the kids. Off they go. And then, as parents have a conversation about whether a man named Kucinich could possible get elected with a name like that, cutie with the ringlets pops off her shoe – that undoubtedly cost more than mum’s – and tosses it out the window on University just after Lincoln.

You’ve felt the panic before. The driving-me-crazy, I-had-it-just-this-morning, where-the-hell-is-it panic of not being able to find something. I feel this panic just about every day. I loose everything from my debit card to my children’s left socks. So when I see those lonely shoes in the road I suck in hard with the dread of that parent, then I laugh off my bloomin’ arse!

Today, driving down Colorado we saw a plush Lightning McQueen upside down and a bit scruffy. It would shudder a little as the cars zoomed past it. And my thoughts wandered to how it found itself lying on its hood, dust in its plush.

Beautiful fall day. Perfect day for the zoo. Come on kids, let’s go. Yes, you can take one toy. Then as the mother bee-bops along to Madonna’s, “Like a Prayer” McQueen’s biggest fan catapults beloved stuffed car out the window. Then, tonight as the kids are settling down for bed can’t you just hear the screams, the cries, the sobs for, “My favorite Lightning McQueen.” The parent will be turning the house inside out! It’s sad really.

But I will be roaring with laughter. I’m sick. Seriously. Sick.

The Dark Knight

When is it too early to wear a Halloween costume? Is Oct. 1 too soon? And when is it too late? When are you too old? Where should you and where shouldn’t you wear a costume? Obviously church is out. But let’s consider the public library, the grocery store, and the ever-popular front stoop of a perfect stranger. And by which algorithm has the general populous constructed to determine the answer to these costuming questions?

Well, I have an answer for toddler boys. If you want to be Batman for Halloween, be Batman. If you want to wear your Batman costume 24/7 for the entire month of October, wear it. If I have to take you to the grocery store when you are wearing said costume, I’ll take you. Gladly. The question then becomes, when will my attitude about this change?

When you are 4? 24? 74?

Until then, I hope we have many more outings like the one taken Monday night. In which I actually had a man say, “Nice abs.” Then in a fluster he thinks I thought he meant me, when he meant you. No worries, of course I knew he meant you. And so I ask the stoic Batman Cooper, “Do you feel as fantastic as you look?”

“Yes,” he solemnly replies.

Do you, dear reader, do you?