One Costume Crisis Averted

Thank you, S. F.

She got out the old skunk costume and convinced S. D., the 4 year old, to try it on. She immediately started to wiggle the tail of the costume which sent Little G, the 7 month old, into hysterics. S. D. is now happily proclaiming to everyone that she's going to be a skunk for Halloween.

Thank you! Thank you! Thank you, S. F.

Now we just have one costume to figure out. If only I could convince S. F. to be a ghost. ;)

Halloween Costume Dilemna

Halloween is less than a week away, and here I am searching the Family Fun website to come up with ideas for simple, homemade costumes for my 12 and 4 year old daughters. Nothing like waiting until the last minute. :)

The 12 year old wants her costume to be cool, which probably means creepy. Thankfully the 4 year old doesn't get scared by creepy things, and creepy is easy - a little face paint, black garb, teased hair, you're good to go. But the 4 year old, she's hard.

I pulled out the skunk costume my 12 year old wore when she was 4, but of course S.D. says, "No way!" So much for frugality. Even telling her that Grandmother helped to make it, (meaning did all the sewing part because I would have sewn my sleeve to the thing) didn't work. S.D. wants to be a Super Spy. The trick is trying to figure out how to make a Super Spy costume for a little girl that's recognizable. Trying to explain what the costume is as you go out trick-or-treating is really not much fun - been there, done that. Maybe I'll just print up a costume explanation on a business card and hand it out as we get questions and quizzical looks.

Maybe I'll just convince them both to be ghosts or vampires. Wish me luck.

Tomatoes

Mom: How was school today, honey?

S. D.: It was great! We had P.E. and music.

Mom: That's great.

S. D.: But I don't want the tomatoes to get me.

Mom: What do you mean? Tomatoes won't get you. We eat tomatoes.

S. D.: No, Mommy. We had to practice today about the tomatoes. That way they won't get you.

Mom: Was this something to do with Halloween?

S. D.: No, I'm talking about the tomatoes! How they spin around and around and the wind is really fast.

Mom: Oh, tornadoes!

S. D.: Yeah, that's right. Tomatoes.

Dear Stranger in the Mall, Grocery Store, etc.

Dear Stranger,

Please take my advice. When there is a seven month old baby sitting in a stroller in the mall elevator looking up at his mother with a very worried face and obviously looking for reassurance from his mother, do not choose this moment to coochy-coo the anxious baby. I can assure you from personal experience that the baby is not likely to smile up at you or giggle. What is much more likely to occur is a blood-curdling scream followed by several minutes of inconsolable crying. Of course by this point, you, Dear Stranger, will have more than likely already vacated the scene.

Also, Dear Stranger, when you see a four year old girl with Shirley Temple-like curls, a sunny disposition, and an angelic face, please resist the temptation to touch her hair. Shirley Temple curls are adorable; however, if this were an adult whose hair you found beautiful, ask yourself, would you reach out to stroke the hair? Why is that you think it's acceptable for you to stroke the beautiful hair of a child you don't know, but you wouldn't dare do the same if the hair was attached to an adult?

I realize that I have been blessed with three very cute children. I think this is nature's way of ensuring they'll make it to adulthood when they do things like spill milk all over the bills on the dining room table and neglect to mention it, but instead cover it up with other papers, so that when their father or I find the bills hours later they are nothing but a massive clump of illegible gobbledygook. Just because my kids are cute and fairly well behaved in public most of the time, this does not mean that you, Dear Stranger, should take this as in invitation to man-handle them. Instead, please just offer a compliment on their cuteness, behavior, or hair. I'm sure they'd appreciate it, and I know I would.

Sincerely,
The Mom Who Deals with the Fallout

The Last Cookie

"Dad has the last Oreo!"

"I want it!"

"No, I want it!"

"Please, Dad, please."

"Come on, Dad, share."

"No, it's mine."

At this point S. F., the 12 year old, goes off to sulk over the loss of the last Oreo. S. D., the 4 year old, gives Dad her most cute and sweet please. I can see by the look across Dad's face that the cuteness has worked its magic; he's going to give up the cookie to the girls. They, of course don't know this.

Dad breaks the cookie apart and gives half to S. D., she beams at Dad and then does the most generous thing. She walks over to her big sister, breaks her half of the cookie in half and gives that half to her big sister. She didn't realize that Daddy was going to give the other half to S. F.

The most amazing part of the story is that just 30 minutes before this, the two of them were driving each other up the wall.