Week in Pictures

Family at Halloween party 2 of 3. We look cold. Wanna know why? Because it was SO STINKING COLD.


Halloween bracelets. We're just that awesome.


Can you feel the enthusiasm?


We have a wee obsession with neck pillows happening...


Heh.



(please forgive me, david gray)

Lonely

Sammy: Mommy, I'm lonely when you're downstairs and I'm upstairs.
Me: I'm sorry, bud, but you need to clean up. Daddy will be home soon and you need to go upstairs and clean up. I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere.
Sammy, snuggling on my lap: But I'm lonely!
Me: Honey, I'm sorry. Sometimes you're going to be lonely. Sometimes I'm lonely. Sometimes Daddy's lonely. You need to learn how to deal with it because you have us and Momo and you can pray and all of those things can help you when you start to feel lonely.

Sammy then bursts into tears. Not small ones, either, but big, ugly cry sobbing where he can't be consoled and buries his head harder into my chest.

Me: Baby, what's wrong? Why are you crying so hard?
Sammy: Because when you were just talking it made me sad!
Me: What did I say that made you so sad?
Sammy: Everything about being lonely! (Sob, sob, sob)

Oh. Man. You sometimes think, after leaving certain stages, that parenting, while not getting easier, will become more sane. Or logical. But nope. Just like that, nothing makes sense again. Just as you are congratulating yourself for ushering your kid into kidhood and our of toddlerhood, you find yourself rocking your four foot five year old, trying to ease his tears and wondering how on earth you manage this since you are a 37 year old sometimes sad and lonely one yourself.

A half an hour later, dinner is done. Dad has given his two cents and Sammy is snuggled into his bed, asleep, two seconds after his head hits his pillow. And the freak out, at least, makes a little sense, if this stage still does not.


(are you trying to be lonely, paul weller)

Top 5 Can't Help It

There are certain words that everyday people say in everyday conversation that elicit a certain reaction. Namely? Breaking out into song. Here's the top 5 "words": song. Ready? Go.

1. "It's Tricky": It's Tricky - Run DMC


2. "Silence": Nightmare on My Street - DJ Jazzy Jeff & the Fresh Prince


3. "Stop": Stop - Erasure

Or, depending on the mood...


4. "Do you have a knife (or fork)?": A Knife and A Fork - Information Society...in all reality, this just may be my sister and me.


5. "Lies!": Lies - Thompson Twins

Judgey McJudgerson

I really do try not to judge. Honestly. People can do whatever they want and I'm fine with it. I figure it doesn't have anything to do with me, so...why? And, well, I know I've been judged: a family member who doesn't like my parenting (which is fine since the feeling is mutual, you know?), or friends who have judged my opinions and experiences and altered relationships because of it. And I hate it. It makes me feel icky. So, unless you have a love of Glenn Beck to the point of tattoo, I really do try not to judge. HOWEVER...

There is this thing that I am unholy judging up one side and down the other. It's something that does not affect me. It's not even that big of a deal - in any realm. It's simply an activity a former friend of mine has decided to engage in and post pictures of for all the world to see. It's not anything illegal or even immoral. It's something I may even do, but definitely not post pictures of. But for some reason this thing stuck in my head and I can't get rid of it. And every time she updates about it, I make sure my friends see it. And I rant. And rave. And have terrible thoughts. And mock. A lot. I'm a terrible, terrible person. Clearly.

I refuse to believe that I'm doing this out of jealousy. But, sadly, it's the only thing that really makes sense. But! Oh, how I wish it was simply the utter ridiculousness of the situation. That would just be so much better. And easier to swallow.


(jealousy, pet shop boys)

I Ain't Afraid of No Ghost. Except. Well...

I spook easily. I always have. I would hide behind the couch on Sunday nights catching glimpses of Unsolved Mysteries and Murder She Wrote and my mind would run wild, making the solitary trip back to my room (staring at a full length mirror the entire time, of course) even worse. My older brother forced me to watch a movie while I was super young and impressionable (I have no recollection of what it was, other than an early 80s on tv B flick) that had green floating heads appearing in mirrors when people looked at them at night. STILL cannot look at a mirror in the middle of the night, thank you very much! And my school district forced me to watch Watcher In The Woods (the most evil movie known to man) when I was in second grade during a rain day. We all stayed in for lunch recess and packed into a dark cafeteria pit and got the be-somethings scared out of us. I'm pretty sure that wouldn't fly now, for some reason...

So I didn't seek out the scary. Other than my "held at gun points", the first scary movie I saw on my own volition was Happy Birthday To Me, which, looking back, was probably not as much scary as stupid, but to a 6th grader, it was terrifying and that long walk back home from my friend's (and, uh, next door neighbor...) house in BROAD DAYLIGHT was terrifying. I know since then I've seen bits and wholes of Nightmare on Elm Street, Scream and Rosemary's Baby (which may have had something to do with a reluctance to reproduce, now that I think about it...), but that's about it. Considering Icabod Crane can scare me, I don't really seek it out.

Growing up there are a few memories of scare. The 'haunted' abandoned hospital (where I was born). The house a few streets away that I had to walk by every darn day that I SWORE AND STILL SWEAR is haunted. That dip in the road where that guy my junior year died in a car crash (doing 100 while drunk and high and hitting a horse in his car). That doorbell..., retelling the legend of the wailing women with the lights out in the bathroom of my elementary school (DUDE! What was UP with my elementary school?).

The year between my divorce and when Isaac and I got married I was living in Provo. Around Halloween time, I was unknowingly (to me...) dating one of our neighbors (for like two months! Who does that?! Two months, people! Aren't most people married by then in Provo? Man. I was clueless...) ANYWAY...he took me to a haunted house. Which I had NEVER been through before. Three seconds in I begged to leave and we went and played mini golf, instead. Much better use of time, if you ask me! After, we went and sat on my porch talking until the wee hours (again, how could I not know? I may have been secretly betrothed and just not aware!).

We would always have haunted houses at church and school growing up, but I became VERY clever at circumventing them and never actually went through after that one time my church teacher made me stick my hand in a bowl of peeled 'eyeball' grapes. This was the same teacher I dreamed shot me in the back of our church chapel when I was about 11. I blame the grapes, people...

Even with all of this, I love Halloween. I love the parties and the dress up and the decor and the everything. But you'll excuse me if I'm not in a haunted house tonight. After a weekend of festivals, we'll hit one more and then I'll be holed up, partying with my boys watching Monsters vs Aliens Halloween and snuggling in with a jack o'lantern pizza from Papa Murphy's. Best tradition ever, by the way.


(everyday is halloween, ministry)