Three Men and a Little CRaZy: 2010-10-31

So it's the week after Halloween and I suppose it's time to write a blog post.

My mom wants to see pictures, my grandparents want to see pictures, my loyal reader (this is sarcasm) in Dusseldorf, Germany probably wants to see pictures (who are you anyway?).

I hate when I'm supposed to write a blog post.

I've got nothing.

I like to think that I'm talking to myself and that no one actually reads my gibberish. Sure I say that, but I also seem to type as if I have some huge audience. Strange, no? And I do post them to Facebook (otherwise known as the ~~entire world~~ a lot of people I know), so what is my problem? I think I like to pretend that I'm someone important; like I'm someone who people are really interested in. But really I know I'm just me, with my silly old stay-at-home-mom ramblings. Take it or leave it, I suppose. I think it started when I realized how uncomfortable it sometimes felt to be me. I became a wife and mom and started to lose myself. Life became more about what I was supposed to be and less about what I wanted to be.

I keep reading that women tend to not "find" themselves until their forties.

Umm, hello?!

Who's got that kind of time? Let's get this done now, I say!

I decided to get my rear end in gear and find myself before I hit forty...something about how life is too precious to waste...blah blah blah. The blog has helped. I write (fairly) honestly and I'm coming to terms with people seeing my true self, my poor sentence structure, and the fact that I'm not perfect and sometimes want to strangle my children. Did I just say that?

And I get to put it all out there in a take-it-or-leave-it fashion. If this is a side of me you'd rather not know about, then don't read it (no offense). See, perfect example. I would never say that to your face, but I can say it on here. Clearly I'm not perfect and I like not being perfect, although I often find myself striving for perfection. Clearly I'm a contradiction in terms.

Whoa!

I did it again.

Where did that come from?

95% of me wants to highlight all of that and click delete, but the other 5% says grow a pair and leave it. I guess we'll see which side wins by the time this post is done.

Okay, so all I need to do is put up some pictures of my silly kids in their Halloween costumes and be on my way.

Here it goes...

Yes, I made these costumes (with help). And yes, I am an idiot. I honestly don't even want to look at them anymore. You know that feeling when you've spent hours following a really detailed recipe, and there was so much love and time and effort put into all, that by the time you sit down to enjoy it you just want to throw up at the mere sight of it? Well, these costumes (particularly the owl) make me want to hurl. The lion was made two years ago (thanks again for your help, Gram!!!), so that one nauseates me a little less.

I should be on here thanking my dear friend Amy for helping me through it all. For giving me words of encouragement even after I cut out 160 of the WRONG size feathers. For giving up four nights to pin and sew and gather, all while I complained about the creepiness of the faux owl fur (which by the way felt like and resembled something that you might find on one of those curly-haired guinea pigs at the pet store -- Gaaa!).

Yes, I should be thanking her for all of that, but in truth I sort of have other feelings towards her. You see, Amy is my enabler. She gets me into trouble. Sort of like if sewing projects and cute cupcakes were my drug, she'd be my dealer. Know what I mean? Probably not -- that was weird. She's the friend you show a cute picture from a cupcake book, and she says. "We can do that. No problem!". Then two weeks later we're still hunting down the right colored sprinkles and the perfect size ginger snap that also resembles the backside of a turkey. She's the friend when you show her a cute idea of a bunting flag for hanging your kids' art -- even though you have a billion other projects you need to complete first -- she says, "You can do it. You have until next week." (because she knows you work best under a deadline). And she's the friend that when you're working on the aforementioned cupcakes and sewing projects together, you can go on and on about how cute they're turning out because she knows you're not being egotistical, but rather amazed at the creations you can tackle.

So Amy, thanks so much...and cut it out, would ya?!

I'm busy enough as it is. :)

But back to Halloween. It was fun. It was FOUR days long and included FIVE parties. Geesh, these kids have busy calendars. It started with a party at the library...

Then there was the Noah's Ark parade at their preschool...

Zach's class

Luke's class.

Funny how the two-year-olds are more cooperative than the four-year-olds.

Story of my life.

Then there was our playgroup's party...

Whoops, no pictures.

Then we went to a party at Arleen and Juan's house...

Pictures stolen from Arleen's blog...

Dora (Arleen) and Diego (Juan)
Love them!

There were more, but they didn't load correctly. :(

Man, did these people go all out! If I was ever going to attempt a fun theme-y party, I am not now. It was that good!

And last but not least, the Urbans took pity and invited me and the boys for trick-or-treating.

Why pity?

Why just the boys and not my husband?

I'm glad you asked. :)

Because Steve was sitting in a suite at Game 5 of the World Series. What is up with these sports people scheduling important games that my husband just happens to have tickets to...all on Halloween night?! Recall my rant last year? It must be a conspiracy. Or these men don't have trick-or-treating age children. Or they're divorced and the kids will be with their mom anyway, so why not stay up late drinking beer and watching sports. Whatever it is, it's annoying.

But the kids had a blast riding on a trailer around the neighborhood and knocking on doors...