The Perfect Mix

Some Halloweens are cold. Some are rainy. Some are scary. And some are the perfect mix of not-spooky spooks, candy buckets filled with chocolate instead of those weird orange and yellow taffy things, and hours of giggly fun with friends. We hit the perfect mix this year. 

I have never seen so much chocolate. I'm not kidding. There are Kit-Kats, Snickers, Heath Bars, and peanut M & M's. My children owe a mommy tax on their buckets of candy; after at putting together least three costume changes, orchestrating at least 7 pumpkins, and ensuring the proper mix of long underwear and costumes, I earned it. 

She was Cinderella for her school party,

along with her fairy godmother--because someone had to get that child's hair into a bun, and that really did take a magic wand. 

Her prince charming masqueraded as Batman this year, but I totally caught him stealing a kiss in line at the fall festival. Watching these two together is a lesson in friendship and coupledom. They naturally navigate to each other, nonchalantly hold hands, and regularly fight and make up. Here's hoping the weirdness of adolescence doesn't get in the way of friends. 

She was Anna for her dad's office party, 

 and the tears were real when her tiara washed off in the bath. 

She was her grammy when we ran errands (yes, really, complete with the jean jacket and bun). 

And Halloween night? 

Oh my goodness. 

Her brother didn't suffer such an identity crisis. He knows what he's about: 

 Luke Skywalker all the way. 

He was extraordinarily excited Luke Skywalker when he "won" the pumpkin toss at his little Lutheran school. Spoiler alert: there were no winners. It's 2015. Every child is a winner. Just don't tell RJ. 

He was blown away Luke Skywalker when his Auntie Amy surprised him at his school party. (We're working on our picture smile). 

And he was Luke Skywalker, Mama's Boy. 

Luke Skywalker, Halloween 2015. 

Even Luke Skywalker had a sister. 

A really adorable little sister who tries to steal the spotlight every chance she gets. But this year, Halloween was the perfect mix, and the spotlight shined equally on each kid.

The mommy tax has been paid in full (and I will be going for a run shortly).  I have an extra hour today, and soon, the jack-o-lanterns will give way to cornucopias, and things will settle down.  I'll have time to catch up, write Gigi's birthday letter (because she's 4 years, one month, and 6 days at this point) and capture the magic that is family vacation. Or you know, hit the panic button because Thanksgiving is about three weeks away. Happy Fall Y'all!

Wiggle It, Just a Little Bit

We interrupt this regularly scheduled (ahem, and woefully behind) blog for a very special announcement: The Tooth Fairy is coming!

He thought it would never happen. I thought it would never happen. His dentist said it had to happen, because his big-boy tooth was already all the way in (see above Exhibit "A").  "Wiggle it, buddy," I told him, "every chance you get." The dentist appointment was set for tomorrow afternoon, and really, where's the fun in that? At precisely age 7.504 years (2,740 days), RJ bravely went where every man has gone before. He wiggled it just a little bit, and out it came!   The Tooth Fairy will be arriving in T-minus 15 minutes, just as soon as the glitter glue has a chance to dry. The going rate these days according to USA Today is $3.40 per tooth, down 30 cents from last year due to the weak economy. We live in Oklahoma. The economy is weaker, and the standard of living is lower. The tooth fairy will be tucking two Susan B. Anthony dollars under RJ's pillow along with a note penned in pink ink.

Sigh. He's precisely 7.504 years old tonight. I have been a mother for precisely 2,740 days (and a tooth fairy for precisely 65 minutes. So far.). He asked me to hold his tooth in my pocket while he played in the bounce house at our little Lutheran school's fall festival, and I finally understand why my mother has a box of my baby teeth in her jewelry box. He's only 7.504 years old, and tonight he's sleeping with his Bare Bear snuggled next to his cheek. I already kind of hate the tooth fairy, that sparkly spendthrift. Each time she visits, my boy will be closer to full grown. Susan B. Anthony's won't fill out the budget when Hot Wheels are no longer a hot commodity. Tonight, I'll don my fairy garb (or you know, some flannel PJ bottoms), sprinkle some fairy dust (and make sure to leave a little something extra for the house cleaner who will blessedly deal with the glitter mess), and kiss my sweet 7.504 year old's sweaty cheek.  Two thousand, seven hundred and forty days have gone by awfully fast.

Harry Poppins and a Spoonful of Cheetos

I love Mary Poppins.  I want to wear high button boots and long dresses that swirl when I walk. I want to sing like her, and I want the horses on the carousel to leap from their posts to take me on fantastic adventures. Most of all, I want to snap my fingers and have the dishes wash themselves. Until then, I've committed to finding the fun in the every day's so that snap! each every day will become a game. 

When Gigi and RJ were very little, I would load them into the car, fill their sippy cups with milk (long before the milk ban of 2013 was handed down in the Official Code of Motherhood, Section 114 governing consumption of food and drink in the Swagger Wagon),.  I would pack extra pants, and tune the radio to Disney's greatest hits. "We're going on an ad-ven-ture!" I would sing-song. And, away we'd go. We adventured to the dry cleaners. We adventured to the post office, the grocery store, and the tag agency. We adventured every weekend and some weeknights, because, when you're very little, all of the little things can be an adventure. Snap! The little every day's became a game. 

When Gigi was about two, I lost the snap. Adventures became chores, and so did everything else. I dreaded bedtime and breakfast. The every day's lost their zing. There was no spoonful of sugar that could make it all better.  

I wish I could say that I snapped my fingers and every task became a piece of cake. I'm not Mary Poppins, and I'll never pull off those high button boots. But, as we near Gigi's fourth birthday, it's very plain to see that something has changed. 

The little every day's have become adventures again. I'm finding the element of fun in every job that must be done. And, snap! Each job's a game. 

Today I adventured to Boiling Springs State Park near Woodward. The highway was long, and I didn't see another mini-van for two hours. But, there were amazing wind farms, and I think I saw all the way to Colorado across the plains. I listened to books on tape (do we still say books "on tape" or am I that old? I did find my Walkman last week.). I snacked like a toddler and sang to Disney's best. I taught a class on lien avoidance and marveled that the girl who got hives when she was called on in class managed to stand in front of a crowd of fifty without a stutter. 

Best of all? I made it home in time to paint my little girl's toe nails and hear about my little man's first loose tooth. Change comes hard for that one; he cried when he discovered it was loose. We'll really have to find the song to move the job of pulling that one along. 

Last weekend, the boys went to a soccer game, and I got to introduce Gigi to Mary Poppins. 

We had a tea party:

"Mommy," Gigi sighed at the end, "I just love Harry Poppins. Can we watch it again?"

She also loves Cheetos. 

And tea.

And as for me, this little bit of sweetness is the spoonful of sugar that has helped me find my snap again. 

Losing a Great One

Lawyers aren’t well loved. We aren’t particularly well liked. But, if we’re lucky, every now and then, we’ll cross paths with a truly great lawyer—someone who teaches us; someone who excels; someone who makes a difference. The legal community lost a great one this weekend. Sonya Patterson was sunshine personified. She loved her job. She loved her clients. And, she made me want to do good things. She fought for people who couldn’t afford her services, and she worked for far less than she was worth. Her confidence far exceeded her years of experience; and her years of experience fell short of her skill level. She was remarkable, and beautiful, and I wanted to be more like her.

I won’t miss daily lunches with her, because we weren’t those kind of friends. I won’t miss passing her in the hallway or seeing her on Friday nights. Those friends will miss her the most of all, and I’ve shed tears for their loss.

But today, the biggest loss of all is that future generations of young lawyers won’t hear her say, "I love my job!" Future lawyers won’t see her greet the poorest of clients with the same grace that she would show in greeting the president. And, those clients won’t see her reassuring smile across the table in court or hear it through the phone. The legal community has lost one of the best. I will miss her, and the world is a sadder place today with her passing.

Summertime, The Highs and Lows

The cicadas are singing outside my window tonight, and I have fresh mosquito bites on my legs after spending a few minutes bouncing away the day on the trampoline.  The dishes from supper are clean, and the littles are already sleeping even though the sun has just barely set.

Today marked the end of our summer. We packed the kids off to our little Lutheran school once more for a first day:

As I pulled into the parking lot this morning, I hummed the theme song from Cheers. Don't judge. I'm Lutheran. We're okay with an adult beverage every now and again. And sometimes, you really do want to go where somebody knows your name, and they're always glad you came. We've been away for a couple of months, but everyone still knows their names. And, it seems they were glad to see us again.

There is comfort in consistency. And, we're glad to be back, even if (according to RJ), "That first grade teacher is rough. She really works us hard!"

(Thanks, Mrs. Gaines. He came home tonight and spent an hour reading about the solar system. Keep knockin' 'em down and pickin' up; you're doing something right.)

But, even though I was glad to be back where everybody knows our names, I was sad to say goodbye to summer. It was a good summer. Much fun was had (as evidenced by the lack of computer time and plethora of selfies):

We put some miles on the cart (and learned a little about cart maintenance too).

I'll take my snuggles when I can get them; he's a big first grader now after all. 

So may pool meals. 

She still gives snuggles on demand. 

Someday, when I'm old, I'll smell pine needles and chlorine, and I will be overwhelmed with memories of this walk into the pool. 

The cart, day 65 of summer vacation. The towels might get laundered. Might just burn 'em--wouldn't want to stress the washer.  We've become less family-going-to-the-pool and more rolling-rummage-sale-who-needs-some-stale-crackers-and-lukewarm-soda?

We managed a trip or two back home. Gigi elected to stay a few days and waved us away happily. 

I turned 30 (again, ahem). 

And this kid. This kid. 

She danced. 

He played. 

So did she, when she forgot she was a ballerina.

We got silly.

I channeled my elementary school friend and managed twin French braids. 

(Lori, can you believe I managed it?!).

Gigi wasn't impressed: "But I didn't want French braids! I wanted Oklahoma braids!"

If you look closely, you'll see she has on Stuart Weitzman heels with her designer handbag and iPhone carrier. Her mother had a shoe and handbag habit in another lifetime. 

It's a good thing she's not afraid to get dirty now and again, or I'd be worried about her aspirations. 

When the boys are away, the girls will watch Frozen. 

It's a nail biter. 

And, 

it never gets old. 

We spent time on the water...

And shared a Coke with friends. 

Mom and dad celebrated 12 years of marriage and 16 summers of togetherness. 

Today, we said goodbye to our summertime highs (the lows don't get pictures, but trust me, there were a few); we say hello to our little Lutheran school; and, we welcome the routine that this brings. 

Study hard. Play hard. Welcome back to school, kids!