Lion King and Monster Mash

I know I say that October feels like the new December with the amount of stuff going on for families to do.  This weekend is not going to prove me wrong.

Last night after work the W. family headed out to dinner and off to the Lion King. I had good intentions of heading home from work a few minutes early, spending a few minutes touching up my hair and makeup, and then leaving for dinner so we could take our time eating before going to the theater. But you know what they say about good intentions, right?

I wound up going to another building to work the final hour of my shift, then I got stuck in traffic, which got me home later than I would have if I had just worked until my normal time at my own building. Luckily I thought ahead enough to a) call the restaurant for reservations and b) call Duane and ask him to grab my makeup bag so I could just touch up my makeup in the car on the way to dinner.

We made our reservation and had a nice dinner together. Wesley and Ryan liked putting their napkins in their laps because that made it acceptable to wipe their hands on their legs. We even had time to share some dessert before going to the show.

My handsome guys outside the theater

The show was fantastic! Wesley and Ryan were impressed by the opulence of the theater and spent the few minutes before the curtain was raised just taking it all in. I wish I could have gotten a picture of Wesley's face during the show. He was enthralled. Ryan enjoyed himself, but I'm pretty sure Wesley had Lion King dreams last night.

Tonight we went to a "Monster Mash" at the local Boy Scout Camp with some friends. The guys wanted to try the "scary trail" so we followed a lantern lit path through the woods as scouts and den leaders acted the parts of the monsters. Wesley, Ryan and Jack put on brave faces, but I'll admit I was holding on to Duane's hand pretty tightly - and I may have jumped once or twice. There was also a maze, a haunted graveyard, a hayride, snacks and pumpkin carving.

Wesley is ready for the monsters

Ryan, a little less so.

zombies!

Ryan and Daniel enjoy some popcorn

Wesley and Jack found a new buddy

Wesley and Jack took it upon themselves to try and scare anyone that walked into the cabin

Let's get this hay ride started

Wesley decided to give hot chocolate another try

Trying to cool the drink down

Jack pulling the guts out of his pumpkin

Mommy and Daddy selfie

Glow bracelet handcuffs

Craig's new look

It was a fun way to spend the evening and it was just scary enough for my guys - a few jumps, but probably no nightmares. I'm starting to get in the Halloween spirit now.

Hot Chocolate: Friend or Foe?

Wesley is developing a real love/hate relationship with his favorite cold weather beverage - hot chocolate.  You may have read about the scare a seemingly innocent cup of chocolatey goodness caused us at All Hallows Eve. Well, hot chocolate seems determined to continue it's game good vs. evil within our own four walls.

Duane and I purchased some hot chocolate K-cups for the kids to use in our Kerig coffee maker. We figured it would be an easy way for them to make their own drinks. We were right, but it's almost too easy. We've had to limit the number of cups they are permitted to make each day or we'd be going broke on K-cups!

That's actually the "friend" part. The foe part is that Hot Chocolate seems determined to make Wesley pay (in blood) for his fix.

Take this morning. This morning Wesley made his hot chocolate with no issues. No overflowing the cup, which happened once, and no spilling it on the way to the dining room. We were off to a rockin' start. But then Wesley attempted to sip it.

"It's too hot!" he cried.

"Dude, that's why it's called hot chocolate. If it wasn't hot, it would be cold chocolate, or just chocolate milk."  Yes, Mommy is a tad sarcastic.

"I need three ice cubes to cool it down."

I dutifully went to the ice maker, got out three ice cubes and handed them to Wesley. He took aim over his mug and dropped them into the hot chocolate, sending splashes of steaming liquid all over the table.

Sigh...

I handed Wesley a napkin and he cleaned up his mess. Then he decided the best way to cool his hot chocolate down would be to blow on it. He filled his lungs full of air, puckered his lips and blew over the surface of his drink with all his might. That might have been effective, but he blew so hard that splashed up and managed to get him in the eye.

Sigh....

Wesley  wiped off his eye and waited a few more minutes before deciding his hot chocolate was cool enough to brave a sip.

"Ugh! It's all watery!" he exclaimed.

"Wesley, that's what happens when you add ice to it. The ice melts and cools the drink down, but -"

"Oh! I know!" Wesley interrupted. "The ice melts and becomes water and since it was in the drink the drink is a little more watery."

 He took another big sip.

"I was wrong. This is perfect," he announced before promptly draining the mug.

Sigh....

Not Me Monday

Welcome to Not Me! Monday! This blog carnival was created by MckMama

 I did not spend a couple of days trying to talk my hubby INTO going to play cards with the guys on a Saturday night. What kind of wife does that?

I am not somewhat grossed out whenever I go into the bathroom after my kids. Just....YUCK!!

I did not stress for at least two days about what to wear to meet one of my favorite authors off all time. Like she cares what I wear. 

I know I didn't feed the kids before taking them out to an event, saying that I wasn't going to buy them more than one treat a piece, then, two cookies and a caramel apple later, end up sharing bacon cheese fries with Wesley. Nope didn't happen.

I did not accept an impromptu invitation to go out one night when I normally like to plan things weeks in advance. And even if I did go, I certainly didn't end up having a really good time and start to wonder if maybe I over plan things a bit after all. 

Earning His Keep

Duane taught Ryan how to use the leaf blower today.  It's about that kid started to earn his keep.

Next up - the lawn mower!

Truly Frightening

Last night Aunt Susan and I took the kids to All Hallows Eve at the Ohio Historical Center. For the most part it was a lot of fun, and the many pictures below will show that, but I have to tell you the scary part too.

No, I didn't lose one of my kids there. To be honest, I think that would have been easier. There were a few minutes I was truly afraid that one of my children was going to be taken from me. Not abducted, but taken from me by security.

Let me explain.

Wesley and Ryan each wanted a hot chocolate to drink last night, so Aunt Susan and I hooked them up. Despite warnings, Wesley took a big sip of his hot chocolate as soon as it was handed to him - and this was VERY hot chocolate. I think he burnt his tongue and throat a bit, but when he reacted, he splashed some on his hand and then dropped the entire cup on the ground and burst into tears. Aunt Susan stuck his hand in a cup of water right away and when he pulled it out, there wasn't even a small red mark - thank you, Aunt Sus!

However, we could not calm Wesley down. All he would do was cry and cry and cry.  He wouldn't talk to us, and just sat on the ground with his face buried in his arms. Aunt Susan got him another hot chocolate (and added a bunch of cold water to it) but we couldn't get him to take a sip or anything.  After more than five minutes of this, I took Wesley aside to talk to him and try to help him get under control again.

As I was holding on his arm, trying to get him to take some deep breaths with me, a security guard and a costumed character approached us. They ignored me and spoke only to Wesley, "What seems to be the matter, young man. Do you need some assistance from either of us?"

A warning light went off in my head. I've been trained in child safety and Code Adam procedures. These gentlemen weren't talking to me, they were talking to Wesley. They maneuvered themselves expertly between me and Wesley. "Oh my gosh!," I thought. "They think I am either hurting him, about to hurt him, or trying to abduct him."

"He spilled his hot chocolate on his hand and burned himself," I heard myself say. "We're just trying to get calmed down."

They turned to Wesley, "Can we see your hand?"  Wesley showed it to them, and, like I said, there was no mark on it. I couldn't decide if that was good or bad in this situation.

"Well, I don't see any marks on it, young man. That's good," said the costumed character.

"It's NOT MY HAND!" Wesley hollered.

"Crap!" I thought. "What's he going to say?"

"It's my throat! I burned it!" he cried, with tears continuing down his cheeks.

I have to admit, I breathed a sigh of relief. Even more so when the security guard and character visibly relaxed and told Wesley to drink a nice cool cup of water to make it feel better.

So that was my Halloween horror story. Luckily we met up with some friends and the rest of the night went really well. I think Wesley forgot all about it and just enjoyed himself the rest of the night.

Me with my boys

Hanging with Aunt Susan

Wesley as Oogie Boogie

Stupid Human Tricks

It's a wonder Ryan didn't lose his pants in this

 

Ryan digging a grave

Wesley watching the grave digging

Tug of war with a school friend

 

Aunt Susan and her mysterious masked man

Who will you marry? Someone whose name begins with the letter you stick the pin in. Ryan did NOT get the letter M.

And Wesley did not get the letter L

Aunt Susan and Wesley waiting for the Headless Horseman

Mommy and Ryan

Wesley and his buddies J and B.

Grandma's is Not a Drive Thru

Ryan came downstairs in his pajamas the other morning and asked if he could get his shoes on and walk over to his grandma's house. Grandma lives around the corner, so normally this would not be an unreasonable request. However, at 7:45 on a school morning.....well, that's another story.

Mommy: You are not walking over to Grandma's.

Ryan: But I want to go there.

Mommy: Ryan, they probably aren't even up yet.

Ryan: Well, what time do they get up?

Mommy: I don't know exactly, but they probably aren't up yet. Besides, it's a school day. You need to get dressed and eat breakfast and get ready for school.  What do you want over there anyhow?

Ryan: I want cinnamon rolls for breakfast and Grandma would make them for me.

Yes folks, my six year old son wanted to walk to his grandma's, in his pjs, before 8:00 in the morning, ring her doorbell, possibly get her out of bed and ask her to make him cinnamon rolls for breakfast.  Spoiled doesn't begin to cover it!  I told him "no" one more time and said we'd either get cinnamon rolls or the things we needed to make them at the store that night. Just because he wanted cinnamon rolls didn't mean he could bug his grandma for them.

However, the truth is, Grandma totally would have hooked him up because she's just awesome like that. And he knows it. 

Fangirling. Seriously, It Isn't Pretty

image from Sourcebooks

Last night I got to indulge in a bit of fangirl time.  There are two YA authors that I really love, Laini Taylor and David Levithan. I savor their books. I always say I want to eat the words they write, to just spoon them into my mouth.

I have had the opportunity to "meet" both of these amazing authors at various book conferences. But meeting an author there generally means standing in line for a long time for a quick autograph or picture and maybe you get the chance to exchange a few words while they are signing your book. It's better than nothing, but still leaves something to be desired.

I've tricked myself into thinking that I actually know Laini Taylor. We've talked on Facebook and Twitter a couple of times and follow each other on Pinterest, but that's not really knowing someone.  She commented on my blog once and I felt like I won the lottery, but again, that's a cyber friendship acquaintanceship at best.

So, Laini was invited to come speak at an ongoing author series my library does and she said yes! I quite literally squealed and did a little dance at my desk when I found out she was coming to our event. And then I began worrying. What if I was asked to pick her up at the airport? I'd be tongue tied and self conscious and, just, ACK!

I bought my ticket to the event and when my boss asked me a few other staff members if we would like to join her and Laini for dinner the night of the event I said yes, but part of me was terrified by it.  What would I say to this writer I adore? Would she remember me from our past meetings, or from online, or do I blur in with all her other fans? I'm telling you, I was in agony!

There was a small, but public, reception prior to Laini's talk last night. I stood around with some of my librarian friends, anxiously looking at the door, waiting for this person whose writing has touched my heart to walk in the door. And I'm happy to report that when she arrived, she was just an awesome, normal person. Now, that didn't stop me from breaking into to a HUGE grin when she said to me, "Now there's a familiar face!" Or from giggling when she told me I pin the cutest dresses on Pinterest. And I may have gotten a bit giddy when she called on me by name at the Q &A after her talk. But I did OK on keeping it together. I think. I'm pretty sure I didn't even embarrass myself too much when I got to sit next to her at dinner.

I warned you it wasn't pretty. But I had a wonderful time and maybe, just maybe, I'll manage not to fangirl too much the next time I see her.

Most Impressive

I know I've complained a lot this school year about how pokey Ryan is in the mornings. I guess he likes to keep me on my toes (or else he was REALLY hungry) because the other morning he finished a muffin, a pancake with syrup, a glass of milk and his vitamins before I had finished a single cup of coffee.

"Wow!," I said, looking at his plate. "I'm impressed!"

Ryan wiped his mouth on his napkin, smiled at me and replied, "I know! I bet you thought I was going to burp real big after that and I didn't!"

Guess that does count as impressive if you're a six year old boy.

It's Beginning to Look A Lot Like Halloween

The boys and I finally got our Halloween decorations put up yesterday. There are still a few finishing touches to do, like the spider lights in the front window, but other than that, the place is starting to look kind of festive.

 The best part is that I barely had to do anything. Wesley and Ryan were so excited to do the decorating that all I had to do was take the things out of the boxes. Ok, I'll admit that sometimes it was very hard for me to let go and not say "No! Not there!" but they were so proud of how they decorated the place all on their own.

The centerpiece of their decorating was the fireplace and mantle. It may be slightly crowded, but overall I think it looks pretty good.

Ryan came up with the very creative idea of hanging out spiderweb place-mats from the mantle. I like it!

Wesley added a few spider to the webs to help complete the picture

So the house is decorated, the costumes are gathered/purchased, the candy has been bought (as least some of it). I'd say we're well on our way to a happy Halloween.

Terms of Endearment

I use lots of terms of endearment when talking to the boys. Of course, I also sometimes use terms of annoyance (mostly when they are driving me nuts and are out of earshot), but let's focus on the good stuff, shall we?

My most common terms of endearment these days seem to be "My darling boy(s)" or "angel" or "my sweet boy." Nothing too out of the ordinary and, hopefully, not too embarrassing if I slip up and say it in front of their friends.

They must actually hear these terms instead of them going in one ear and out the other. Why do I think that? Well, the other night at bedtime, Ryan came over to give me a hug before going upstairs. After hugging me he took my face in his hands, looked me in the eye and said, "Good night, my sweet."

It was one of those moments that made my heart melt, but might be considered a little creepy in a couple years. However, if he pulls moves like that on his future love interests - well, look out!

Not Me Monday

Welcome to Not Me! Monday! This blog carnival was created by MckMama.

I was not mocked by my children one morning just because I could not form a complete sentence before having my cup of coffee.

I did not stare blankly at the self checkout machines at work one day, unable to figure out what to do next when I was trying to check out a book, despite the fact that I use the darn machines on a daily basis.

I was not so hormonal on my birthday that I actually yelled, "I can't believe we've been married for ten years and you don't know what size shirt I wear!" at my husband. And there is no way he is so wonderful and understanding that I am still happily married after that incident.

I did not refuse to go camping with my scouts (and hubby) because it was my birthday and cold, only to spend my birthday morning standing in freezing rain, sleet and wind to watch those same kids play soccer. 

I did not have a night alone with a queen sized bed all to myself and was unable to sleep because I missed my husband. That would have been kind of pathetic.

Happy Birthday with Friends

Yesterday was my birthday and although it started off rough, it ended really well. And I have to publicly admit that it started off rough because I was hormonal and totally blew stupid stuff out of the water. Once I got over myself (and away from the hailing, freezing wind on the soccer fields) I had a really good birthday.

There was lunch from a taco truck I wanted to try. There were pastries. There was a mani/pedi with my mom.

But probably the very best thing of the whole day was going out to dinner with a group of ladies that make up some of my girlfriends. While there were some notable absences (we missed you Danna, Cheryl, Erika, Rachel) I looked around the table and realized that these are some of my closest friends.

These are the women that I know without a shadow of a doubt would be by my side if life threw me a curve ball. We laugh together, drink together, b!tch together and accomplish a lot together.

At the table sat someone who has known me since high school, although we've really because good friends in the past 3 years or so. There was someone who has known me for probably 13-14 years. That person has held my hand through my tears when my life and the life of some of friends fell apart, inspired me to be the best I can be at my job, and always has time for me when I need her. My sister-in-law came by to wish me a happy birthday and brought her unique sparkle of life with her, reminding me how precious the life we are given really is. There sat women I have only known between 2-4 years, but I can't imagine my life without them. Around the table sat some of the greatest, most fun women I know.

It wasn't a late night out. No one was overindulging and we spent a lot of time talking about our husbands and our kids, but I would take a quite night out with these ladies over any raucous party any day. Because, as sappy as it sounds, friendship really is the best gift.

Just a Little Smackeral of Something

I often joke that I look forward to the day that my picky eaters become teens and start eating everything in sight.  I think I got a bit of a preview of that fateful time this morning.

Wesley came downstairs for breakfast and said that he didn't want to eat anything because he wasn't hungry. I don't want to force my kids to eat when they honestly aren't hungry, but I also know how horrible Wesley gets when he hasn't eaten in awhile and I wasn't about to send him to school without something in his stomach.

"How about just a pumpkin muffin?" I asked.  They are whole-wheat, with little sugar and no oil, so I figured it would sit okay on his stomach and give him some decent energy for the day. "You need to have something before you go to school because you eat lunch really late."

He consented, "Just a little something because I'm really not very hungry at all today."

"Just a little something is good," I agreed.

Wesley busied himself in the kitchen and when I peeked at his plate while he was eating I discovered that "just a little something" means to a growing nine year old boy. Apparently it means a muffin, bacon, a pop-tart and milk. I'd hate to see what a full breakfast looks like to him. 

Slow Poke

One of my biggest pet peeves (and I have a number of them) is tardiness. I can't stand to be late someplace. To me, on time to just a bit early is best. Luckily for me, Duane feels the same.

Unfortunately, this does not seem to be the case with our youngest son. I think I recounted an incident last week when it took the child darn near half an hour to eat a bowl of cereal. I'd like to say that was an odd occurrence, but Ryan is usually the last one at the dinner table, still picking at his (now cold) food while the rest of us are clearing the table and loading the dishwasher.

It's not just at mealtimes either. Getting out of the house in the morning has turned into a real misadventure. I am a slightly OCD, Type-A, anal retentive, creature of habit. I have a morning schedule and have created one for the boys too.  I get them up at 7:45. That gives them 15 minutes to get dressed, make their beds, and comb their hair. I figure breakfast starts somewhere around 8:00 and lasts 15-20 minutes (roughly). That means there are 10-15 minutes for playing/brushing teeth and taking care of the cats before it's time to get shoes and jackets on at 8:30 and leave for school at 8:35.

It's not like I stand in the house with a stopwatch, but I do try to keep a eye on the time and keep us roughly on the above schedule.

Except some days, like today, my youngest child conspires against me.

Everything started off okay. I actually woke Ryan up a few minutes early, so when he complained that he was still tired and wanted to sleep some more I could say "yes" and look like a nice mom. He got dressed without complaint, ate breakfast at something more than a snail's pace and remembered to feed the cats. Sounds like a good morning, right?  Well it was until 8:30.

At 8:30 I told the boys to put on their shoes and socks, jackets and get their book bags.

At 8:32 Wesley had his shoes and socks and jacket on, had grabbed his backpack and was climbing in the car. Ryan started looking for socks. 

At 8:33 I yelled up the stairs for Ryan (who was still getting socks) to hurry up.

At 8:34 I went upstairs, grabbed a pair of socks out of Ryan's drawer and said it was time to go.

At 8:35 I told Ryan I was leaving without him and backed the car out of the garage. I wouldn't really leave without him, but figured if he saw the car wasn't in the garage it might drive my point home.

At 8:36 Ryan threw open the door from the house to the garage and screamed, "THESE SOCKS ARE TOO SMALL!!!"

At 8:37 I was back in the house half yelling "I don't care if your socks fit or not! We need to leave and you are holding us up! Come on!"

At 8:38 Ryan tried to leave the house again - this time with shoes on, but without a jacket or backpack. "Ryan! We're late! Let's go! Get your stuff!" I yelled.

At 8:39 I was wishing for something stronger than coffee in my travel mug

At 8:40 Ryan finally exited the house with everything he needed, climbed in the car in tears and hollered, "You didn't have to yell!"

At 8:41 (when I'm usually dropping them off at school) I explain that apparently I DID have to yell because we were leaving the house late because he couldn't get his act together.

We spend the next five minutes driving to school with Ryan crying about making us late. I tried calm my voice and be the grownup and explain that he was not going to be late to school and, while I might be a few minutes late to work, I wasn't going to get in trouble. However, we need to figure out a way to get through the morning without having a last minute battle to get out of the house.

Ryan finally calmed down, but as we turned onto the street where the school is, something occured to me.

"Ryan, did you ever brush your teeth this morning?"

Cue the tears again.

That that, dear readers, is why I walked into work and offered my youngest son to several of my co-workers. No takers though. Not even after I mentioned that he is housebroken, intelligent and knows a number of tricks.  Guess he and I are stuck together a while longer. And despite miserable mornings like this one, I'm more than fine with that.

I Do Believe That's a Dare

I don't like to think too much about Halloween until October hits. I mean, I love Halloween, but my birthday is in early October and I want my birthday to pass before I immerse myself in all things ghosts and goblins.

Unfortunately, having kids kind of changes that. They want to decorate the house before September is even over, and most importantly, you have to think about costumes.I don't know about your family, but in our family, once the calendar says "October" we seem to have at least one Halloween related activity every week -  most of which require costumes.

This year Ryan has decided (at least for the moment) that he wants to be a skeleton. Easy peasy. Wesley wants to be one of his made up feline superheroes from the Family Cat Team (also made up by him.)  We've found an orange cat costume and a red cape for him and a little makeup scar will complete the costume.

Or at least it will complete the costume in my book. Wesley seems to think that his costume will not be complete until his stuffed bear also has a costume. Preferably a panther costume with sharp claws.  I asked Wesley why his bear also needed a costume and he actually had a pretty good answer.

See, in our family the goblins sneak a rock into the child's trick-or-treat bag. Happened to Uncle Kirk and I every year when we were growing up and it happens to Wesley and Ryan now.  Wesley seems to believe that if he dresses up his bear in a scary costume and carries him around in the trick-or-treat bucket, the goblins won't stand of chance of getting past the bear to hide a rock in the treats.

Interesting theory. Kind of like a bear candyguard, instead of a bodyguard. But I've been watching those goblins for the past eight years or so and they are tricky little devils. All I can say is "Game on! Let the best goblin win." Winner determined on Beggars Night.

Blow to the Ego

Many of you know that my mom is one of my very best friends.  We do stuff together all the time and talk to each other pretty much every day.  Since my birthday is coming up this weekend, my mom and I have made plans to go get a manicures and pedicures that afternoon. Just kind of a girls outing.

I saw my mom last night and commented on how much I am looking forward to Saturday.

"What's Saturday?" she asked.

Oh, nothing, just the day she gave birth to me.   I gave her an incredulous look for a moment before we both burst out laughing.

And despite that little blow to my ego (since I firmly believe I should be the Queen of Everything on my birthday) I'm still looking forward to a great afternoon with my wonderful mom.

Not Me Monday

Welcome to Not Me! Monday! This blog carnival was created by MckMama.

I know I did not leave a scout meeting muttering curse words under my breath. That would have completely undermined the scouting way.

When the "check engine" light on my car came on, there is no way I decided I'd wait for a day to call the service center just in case the light decided to go off on it's own. And despite my reluctance to call, I was not ticked off when I discovered they couldn't fit me in for an appointment for over a week.

I was not mildly insulted when I had to fill out a waiver at the roller rink for myself in case I got hurt, because filling out said paperwork made me feel old. And I certainly wasn't forced to eat my words when another grownup there fell and dislocated his elbow.

I certainly don't have flashbacks of a high-school aged me hanging out with Cheryl whenever I do something with her daughter, Taryn. That would be kind of weird, wouldn't it?