Scared You, Didn't I?

Then there was October 31st.  This year, the big kids were amped up about Halloween to a level I didn't think was possible.  How many consecutive days can a parent be expected to patiently answer the question, How many nights til I can wear my costume?  And when there are no more nights until the one that they get to wear their costume, how is it possible to get them to sit and eat dinner when there are friends! and candy! and outside! and you are the only thing standing between them and the most awesome school night ever?

Stop looking at my dirty laundry pile in the corner.

Why does Greta look not totally in love with the Rapunzel Bride costume she chose?

Because she really wanted to be a ninja too.

Three ninjas and an Iron Man

I don't agonize the way I once did about the amount of Disney Princess exposure I have allowed in my home.  She loves them.  They are completely flawed in their representation of beauty and femininity.  She loves them.  Not so much that she didn't ultimately make the choice to wear her puffy coat, pants and socks under her full body "linja" gear on a 40-degree night, though.  We argue over many things.  Let the dress up box not be one of them.  The end.

Next year I will likely be back to my DIY self, inspired to create the kids' costumes from scratch, making a thousand trips to Jo Ann Fabric and spending way too many hours and dollars sewing what ultimately look like homemade costumes.  My inspiration far outstrips my crafting ability.  This year, it was fun to just click through pictures and open the boxes that arrived on the porch.

My favorite Leo:

Maggie only made a handful of houses, but Noah and Greta were on fire.  They may have ding donged some of our neighbors three times with different groups of friends.  Remember when they were shy, had to be coerced to ring doorbells, then prompted to say Trick or Treat on every porch?  Those days are gone.  Now they just need to be reminded to shout Thank you! over their shoulder and to not leave the little kids too far behind as they sprint from door to door.

I remember Halloweens with my cousins in Sheboygan, mostly.  I remember the neighbors who gave out  the full sized candy bars (there is always one), and the post-trick-or-treating piles of loot dumped out on the carpet so we could all compare what we got.  I remember the stash of candy that Natalee would hoard through the winter, after mine was gone in a week.  Where is that candy bowl anyway?