Fuzzy Love

Happy Hallowe'en!

 

It's all over. Both kids fell asleep easily before their bedtimes, so it was a successful day, I think. We met up with some friends for a little party in the late afternoon (mostly for picture-taking) and then Mark took Liam around the block for a touch of trick-or-treating. Liam was thrilled with the whole experience, and then got to dole out candy for another hour or so (in his monster pajamas), which I think he found almost as fun as going door-to-door himself.

Olivia stayed home with me while I handed out the candy, as it was much chillier today than it had been and Mark didn't need to be carrying her just for cuteness sake. Plus that poor girl was getting tired of being a duckling, I think.

Speaking of Mark, he dressed up as a Canadian hockey player. He wore his Canadian Olympic hockey jersey, a white and red hat and scarf, jeans, and a black eye made from my mascara. He also carried a (plastic) beer bottle. I wanted to black out a few teeth, but I couldn't find the proper stuff at the last minute.  He won a prize at work for it. Too bad I didn't get a picture, eh?

So Liam got a good haul for a three-year-old, and good thing, too. We got more kids than last year and I don't have quite the leftover candy I thought I would.

And Olivia has already figured out what's inside all these shiny packages.

Stockton's Plum Creek Stables

What's that? You haven't had enough of my kids in their Hallowe'en costumes yet? I know, it isn't even the big day yet and they are getting lots of mileage out of their outfits. Today was the Fall Festival at Liam's preschool. It was held at Stockton's Plum Creek Stables, just southwest of the city, and it felt like we were in the middle of nowhere. We had a hayride (my first, Olivia's first, Liam's second), Liam collected some candy and threw some sticks into a little pond, and there was general playing and a picnic lunch.  It was a beautiful day and the whole thing was really nice.

   

Hallowe'en Parties

I am having much more fun celebrating Hallowe'en as an adult than I ever did as a kid. Of course, the end of October is usually downright cold in eastern Canada; every year we hoped and dreamed that we wouldn't have to cover our costumes with our winter coats, but we always did. Plus there wasn't nearly the hype then around the day that there is now. It has been such a busy weekend that my legs are aching from about the knees down, both kids are wiped out, and I'm betting the whole household will be in bed by nine.

Yesterday we attended one of those sponsored trick-or-treating events that seem to be popping up everywhere. Although I wouldn't call it loads of fun (since it was essentially just a long line), Liam did enjoy getting the bulk of the candy he'll get this year and had lots of practice saying "Fank you!" Of course every piece of candy came with a coupon, but both kids also got a new toothbrush from a local dentist. Why did we bother? Well, a few reasons:

1. I love their costumes (and Liam loves his costume) and want both kids to live in those costumes for a few days.
2. We really only trick-or-treat at the houses of people we know and I thought it would be nice if Liam got more than ten pieces of candy this year (and when I say Liam, I mean Liam and Mark and I).
3. I like seeing all the costumes and we'll probably only get about twenty kids at our door this year, half of which will be teenagers dressed in their regular clothes.

Then last night we went to a party given by some friends. They had tons of beer and food and bubbling "witch's brew" punch and a bouncy castle in their garage. And I seriously think Mark and I were the only two people there not in costume. So now, of course, I think we need costumes, even though that hadn't really occurred to me until we arrived at that party yesterday. Patterns will go on sale this week, and I might remember to pick a few up. Then we'll see if I ever get around to making any.

Today we went to Boo at the Zoo. It had a wild west theme, hence the straw roping. Since it was such a nice day (about 70 degrees), half the state turned up and it was tough to move, especially while towing two kids in a wagon. And yes, Mark made his annual comment: "Wow, this place is a zoo." But we did manage to briefly run into some friends before the crowds whisked them away again (here's Liam with Emma).

It was too crowded to see much of the animals, and the lines were too long to get much candy, and everywhere Olivia went we heard comments like, "Oh, it's Big Bird!" and "Look at the little chicken!" (for the record, she's a duckling). But there weren't many other cowboys, and Liam was feeling fine. Most costumes, as usual, were of  the Disney princess/Power Ranger types (especially Tinkerbell, usually over a white turtleneck).

We did see a boy dressed as the sun with all the planets in orbit around him, a very tall Napoleon, an inflatable Fat Bastard, and Elizabeth I (complete with jewels). And a pirate in a wheelchair who transformed the chair into a giant ship. Unfortunately it seems that most creativity goes toward making the seven-on-up boys look as gory as possible (can't wait for that phase). And I include ourselves in that un-creative group, since, after all, Olivia's costume was off the rack and a cowboy (even a very handsome one) doesn't exactly surprise anyone. We are even going to try for a little gore on Tuesday when Mark has to get dressed up for work. (Don't worry; I'll take pictures of that too.) Still, it's disappointing.

All the same, all the costume-assembling and party-attending is a great deal of fun. Good thing we're enjoying it, since there are two more solid days  of parties before it's all over.

Clearly, I Need Help

 

Dressing a little girl is nowhere near as simple as dressing a little boy. Shopping for Liam has been easy from day one: a couple pairs of jeans, blue pants, beige pants, army green pants, whatever cute shirts happen to be available, and we're done. Oh, and don't forget the one pair of blue shoes and the one pair of brown shoes. You really can't go wrong in the world of boy's clothing (unless, I suppose, you put him in a beige top with khaki pants). Piece o' cake.

But girls are (in so many ways) complicated. For example, there are many shades of pink (pale pink, peachy pink, salmon pink, fuchsia pink, burgundy pink...) and many of them clash with each other. And of course almost every item of toddler girl's clothing seems to be embellished with embroidery, just to make sure pink is involved somehow. Now, I have to admit that all the extra frilly bits make girl's clothes a lot of fun, but all these clashing pinks mean that mixing and matching is really limited. So Olivia and I have been focusing on the clear pale pinks (avoiding the dusty ones), the clear bright pinks (not the peachy ones), with touches of burgundy for fall, and so far so good (I think. You guys would tell me, right?). But now the holidays are approaching and red is required. Since even Olivia's shoes have pink on them, I can't just casually toss red into her wardrobe, so apparently she also needs new shoes (black patent Mary Janes, I suppose) and maybe a new coat as well (she has a pink one - that's out - and a brown one).

More laid-back mothers of older girls tell me that I will get over it and that someday I'll be dressing Olivia in salmon and fuchsia with abandon, but I doubt it. I am one of those anal sorts that will have everyone in the car waiting while I switch from my brown purse to my black purse because I wish to wear my charcoal coat that day (ask Mark; he knows).

So it was in anticipation of the Christmas party season that I bought that god-awful bow that sits on Olivia's head. Don't worry, she didn't wear it outside or anything; I was testing it. It's just a simple bow, and even I know it should be worn on a special occasion, with a dress of some sort...but how the hell does it work? Should it be in the middle of her head like that? Should I pin back one of those wisps over her ears? Should I wait until she grows some more hair? 

And speaking of hair, Olivia barely has any now, so it isn't a problem yet, but soon I'll need to understand fancy braids and symmetrical pigtails and god knows what else in order to convey the togetherness of my parenting, right? I really hope there's a class or a book or something, because I don't even own a hairbrush.

Snow Day

It just wouldn't be Denver if we didn't have a heavy snowfall before all the leaves were off the trees. Today, just south of the city, we got about six inches of snow. Heavy wet stuff of the sort that makes good snowmen. Very wet, actually, with chilly puddles forming underneath the snow so that a quick trip out to run an errand resulted in my boots getting soaked through.

From the moment he woke up, Liam was on fire to get outside. I put him off for a little while (to allow the sun to come up, for one thing), but of course we couldn't let a day like this pass us by. We ran out to pick up some favors for Olivia's birthday party (more on that later), Shantaram for me, and a book to color for Liam. After getting back home Olivia and I played outside with Liam for a little while, but then he struggled through the knee-high (to him) snow in the backyard while I cheered him on from inside and Olivia toddled from window to window trying to keep her eyes on him. She also ate a lot of snow.

I felt like such a, well, mom today: making sure Liam peed, then stuffing him into his snowsuit, boots, hat, and mittens so that he could plow his way out into the cold world until his mittens soaked through. Then I let him inside and got him out of all his gear, keeping his toes out of the cold little puddles on the floor and listening to the story of his adventure.

Then we shared a hot chocolate.

Lady Olivia and Liam: Space Ranger

Don't they look sweet?

Of course you don't know that Olivia has been waking up at night every two hours and that we are undergoing Operation: Tough Love. Again. And that I am, as a result, exhausted. And that Liam threw a complete and utter fit this evening  upon remembering that he'd have to go to bed early since he did not nap today (and because he's been up until ten every night this week for some unknown reason. In bed at eight, but awake until ten). And that Liam finally fell asleep lying on top of me with his head on my chest just like he did as a baby from months zero through six.

Deep breath. In. Out.

But now it is 7:45, both kids are blissfully asleep, and I'm sitting in my pajammies (as Liam would say) with a cup of hot tea. After this post I might get up the energy to move to the sofa and watch something crappy on tv or I might just go right to bed.

Anyway, let me show you pictures from our idyllic romp through the fall leaves this afternoon.

Today was actually a day for Olivia's baby book: she got her first pair of shoes. I had read somewhere sometime that a baby (or, I suppose, a toddler) should get pair of real shoes when he or she can take ten consecutive steps. Olivia is now doing that several times over, so today we trooped over to the mall for a fitting. We came home with these:

Aren't they great? They're also huge. Well, for baby shoes, they are. Olivia is a 5 1/2 already, which, believe me, is pretty big for an eleven-month-old girl. She also has borderline narrow feet, but we're not having any of that this time around: Liam has wide feet and only one shoe maker that I know of makes different-width shoes for the little tykes (Stride Rite), and they ain't cheap shoes. Now a little boy may do just fine with one pair of blue shoes and one pair of brown,* but that won't do for a little girl. So here are her new 5 1/2 M shoes in action (although that action is limited; with shoes on she's back to taking just a couple of steps in a row before falling).

So, suddenly, Olivia is a toddler and we're planning her first birthday party. And, in a lot of ways, she's starting to act so grown up. She drinks well from a sippy cup (and has for some time). She says, "Mamamama," "Da!", "hi," and "bye bye." She has begun to mimic all kinds of other sounds that we make, like a certain laugh or a gasp of surprise. She is highly attached to her soother, adores her brother, and does not allow me to leave her sight (okay, that's not so grown up). She gives kisses and hugs and will rest her head on you (anywhere she can reach: tummy, legs, face, feet) and contentedly say, "Awwwww." It is unbelievable to me that we didn't even know her a year ago and now we can't remember what life was like without her.

But can anyone explain to me why two separate people at the mall today assumed that Lady Olivia (dressed in this exact outfit) was a boy?

Liam, on the other hand, has been spending his days as a super hero, saving the world.

There he goes as Buzz Lightyear, Space Ranger (note the wings). He was recently introduced to the Power Rangers (in party invitation form, not in tv show form), and he believes them to be part of Buzz's crew. Well, within a week of the introduction, a very well-loved pair of Power Ranger pjs were passed down to Liam from his cousin Oliver, and Liam's been wearing them every possible moment since.

Wait, I have a picture:

That's a super hero pose, in case you don't know. Liam is actually the secret identity of several different super heroes, and you can never be sure which one you're talking to. At times, I seriously have to ask to talk to Liam, and he'll say, "Just a minute."

*For the record, Liam does have more than two pairs of shoes, but we are very lucky to live close to a Stride Rite outlet store and he just gets whatever they have in stock.

The Pumpkin Festival

While Olivia and I were away, Mark and Liam, along with Mark's parents, went to a nearby Pumpkin Festival. I'm sorry we missed it, not only because it would have been another opportunity to put Olivia in her duckling costume, which she is bloody adorable in. And they didn't even carve the pumpkins, which I would have been thrilled to have missed. But they did pick out a couple of big orange beauts, right off the ground, which are still sitting uncarved on the kitchen counter (where they are likely to remain, unless we get a burst of creativity and energy next weekend). Liam also chose a bunch of those funky green and yellow gourds, which add to our ambiance of thanksgiving.

Mark and Liam partook of the hayride (I'm guessing there were a lot of hayrides scheduled, since Mark and Liam had the hay to themselves) and Liam was thrilled to ride a donkey led by a  local prospector.

Until he fell off.

 

There and Back Again

I haven't posted recently because I've either been getting ready for a trip, away on a trip, or recovering from said trip. I went back to Halifax (for the fourth time this year) to visit primarily my mom, although other family members snuck in some time as well. I don't really feel like getting into how my mom is doing, but I will tell you about the trip.

I took Olivia with me, but left Liam behind. This literally gave me some sleepless nights. Olivia is still nursing, so of course she had to come. Besides, I'm not sure how I would have handled this trip without at least one of my children to keep in a security blanket strangle hold the whole time. But with Mark's new job (and, therefore, a lack of vacation days), he couldn't come and I knew I couldn't handle both kids on my own: although Olivia can be plopped down pretty much anywhere with a bowl full of kitchen utensils, Liam requires planned entertainment that was outside of my ability to provide.

All the same, I was worried that Liam would feel left out or unfavored or in some way be horribly deprived due to five days of motherlessness. I shouldn't have worried; While I was aching for him, he barely knew I was gone. This was largely made possible by a timely visit from Mark's parents on their annual drive through to Scottsdale ("Oh, by the way, Olivia and I won't be here this year; do you mind watching Liam for twelve hours a day?"). Liam had a busy visit with them that included the kind of spoiling that only comes from grandparents (popcorn dinners, new toys). Although he did make time to speak to me on the telephone each day, the calls were brief since the action around him (even if it was just that popcorn) was more enticing. And, since much communication with a three-year-old requires some lip-reading, body language, and, most importantly, context, those calls just left me with a greater longing to be home.

Not that I didn't want to be visiting; I just found this trip more difficult since my little core family was split across three thousand miles. But it was good to see the extended family. I stayed with my grandparents, even though they are in their eighties and I didn't want to be trouble to them. Of course I asked them not to do anything special and of course they did. Every day I'd toss our dirty clothes into a corner of their guest room and every afternoon they'd appear, cleaned and neatly folded, back in my suitcase. And no matter where I was at mealtime (even when they were clearly informed that I'd be out for dinner), a plate would be waiting for me when I returned.

Olivia and I were in and out a lot, since she still naps twice a day. Mom isn't really mobile, so we'd pop up to visit my mom and then race back for a nap, then back again for another visit and race back again. By the end of the trip I packed Olivia's pajamas for our evening visits so she'd fall asleep in the car and I could just pop her into bed. This, of course, was tough on Olivia (and, frankly, on me) and she was about as clingy as she could possibly be. Other than a dicey ten seconds with my brother, Olivia was not held by anyone other than myself the entire trip. Nor was she outside of my sight except when she slept (not even for a shower - then she would sit on the floor of the bathroom and play with my makeup). But she did begin to warm up to a few people by the end of the trip, most notably my mother, whom Olivia covered with kisses one day.

An additional note on flying: Olivia and I took the red-eye on the way out. It wasn't so bad, actually, since we both slept most of the way and the plane rides just flew by (sorry). But even under those circumstances she was not completely silent, which is exactly what all passengers on red-eyes expect you to be. So we made a few people just a little bit grumpy (although they obviously weren't thinking that I too had to stay awake just to get Olivia asleep and then all subsequent sleeping for me would happen with a baby on my lap). And, just for the record, each and every airport on earth should be required to have a bookstore, a Starbucks, a toy store, and a playground. So there.

She's Walking!

That's right; Olivia took her first steps today. She was cruising along the sofa and then, all of a sudden, let go and took three steps - one two three - right toward me with a big smile. Mark was there and saw it too. We then spent the next ten minutes trying to get her to recreate it, to no avail. I then spent another ten minutes teary-eyed because my baby will soon be a toddler. If time continues to pass this quickly, soon my baby will be away at college and Mark and I will be all alone (I know, I'm probably the only thirty-two-year-old worried about empty nest syndrome).

Funny that Olivia spent our whole outing today strapped down and unable to move.

We went to the corn maze! Now, how much fun is a corn maze? A whole lotta. Actually, it's fun but also a bit creepy and I totally understand why horror movies keep setting scenes in them. Even when everything else is quiet, a corn field makes rustling noises that had me looking over my shoulder for something that would take a bite out of us. If you are really brave, you can do the corn maze at night, with flashlights, but I'm betting there aren't a lot of three-year-olds in the night-time crowds.

Liam, however, knows nothing of those movies and he thought the whole thing was pretty cool.

And, despite what that picture shows, he did a great job of staying close to us, thank god. In the back of my mind I was picturing Liam, in tears, being led out of the corn by strangers because he took a different turn and disappeared (if he wasn't eaten by the children of the corn first, of course). But that didn't happen. We also didn't find our way out of the maze.

That's a whole lotta corn. Instead, once Liam got tired and had to be carried and once my arms got tired, we headed for the nearest emergency exit to take the walk of shame back to the entrance. (But please be aware: this corn maze is eight acres of twisty turny fun - it is not for the faint of heart or short of legs).

Oh well. It was still a good time. After refueling with Gatorade and kettle corn we discovered the children's maze, which, being approximately the size of our backyard, was more our speed. It helped that a little kid in a SpongeBob t-shirt (or "SpongeBob Boy," as Liam called him) greeted us at the entrance with, "I know the way through. Do you want me to show you?" and led us through the whole thing, free of charge.

All in all, not a bad way to spend a warm fall day.