Tricks, treats
Hip-happy Halloween! (And ginormous birthday wishes to my sweet niece, Olivia, and my long-lost fairy godmother, Stuart. MWAH! Smooches to you both!)
Truth time: excepting the above great reasons for celebrating October 31, I'm not overly enthusiastic about this particular holiday. Not that I don't love the candy. (Because I do. I really, really do.) But the pressure to come up with fabulous, creative costumes that are lovingly hand-crafted: well, that's not my bag.
Happily, the muppers managed to look absolutely adorable in one recycled costume (Carter, the giraffe) and two snatched-from-the-bargain-bin foam shells (Spencer, the spider, and Katie, the pumpkin). Want pictures? Take it up with the big guy who's currently snoring on the couch. That's his domain.
Maybe next year I'll channel Martha Stewart and become a costume queen. Till then: sorry, kiddos.
One tradition I'd sincerely love to carry on is trick-or-treating with our neighbors, the Neylons. Carter and Daniel were so cute tromping around together: nudging each other to ring bells and knock on doors, pondering how much candy to grab when presented with a giant bowl of goodies and generally having a high old time. Our block wasn't very active, but we hit about a half-dozen houses (some neighbors we knew and a few we hadn't met before) and the boys didn't seem disappointed in the least when it was time to head home for some barbecue.
Surprisingly, our two young'uns held up pretty well this evening; poor Spencer has a nasty ear infection that kept him (and most of the Franklin five) awake for much of last night. To add insult to injury, their reward for suffering through the indignity of having their tender ears poked and prodded by our funny new pediatrician was: flu shots. But with cool band-aids! (Yeah, that made it better.)
Two bits of good news: first, K's ears got the all-clear. Second, they (the tots, not the ears) tipped the scales at 22.6 pounds apiece. I think that keeps them pretty firmly in the pee-wee categories, but it's always nice to get an update.
As always, there's so much more to tell than there is time to type, and I've just got to get a decent night's sleep. The big snoring guy has got the right idea, if the wrong location. So off to bed I go, with a belly full of miniature Reese's cups.
Tomorrow: NaBlaBla begins! Who wants to make bets on how soon I'll flake out?
Love,
Amy
P.S. It's not my news to share, so I will happily delete this if asked, but... dearest friends who have been so patient, persistent and faithful, we are over-the-moon happy for you and your sweet family tonight!! xoxox F5
P.P.S. The big guy is an early bird; see above. Thanks, sweetie!
Truth time: excepting the above great reasons for celebrating October 31, I'm not overly enthusiastic about this particular holiday. Not that I don't love the candy. (Because I do. I really, really do.) But the pressure to come up with fabulous, creative costumes that are lovingly hand-crafted: well, that's not my bag.
Happily, the muppers managed to look absolutely adorable in one recycled costume (Carter, the giraffe) and two snatched-from-the-bargain-bin foam shells (Spencer, the spider, and Katie, the pumpkin). Want pictures? Take it up with the big guy who's currently snoring on the couch. That's his domain.
Maybe next year I'll channel Martha Stewart and become a costume queen. Till then: sorry, kiddos.
One tradition I'd sincerely love to carry on is trick-or-treating with our neighbors, the Neylons. Carter and Daniel were so cute tromping around together: nudging each other to ring bells and knock on doors, pondering how much candy to grab when presented with a giant bowl of goodies and generally having a high old time. Our block wasn't very active, but we hit about a half-dozen houses (some neighbors we knew and a few we hadn't met before) and the boys didn't seem disappointed in the least when it was time to head home for some barbecue.
Surprisingly, our two young'uns held up pretty well this evening; poor Spencer has a nasty ear infection that kept him (and most of the Franklin five) awake for much of last night. To add insult to injury, their reward for suffering through the indignity of having their tender ears poked and prodded by our funny new pediatrician was: flu shots. But with cool band-aids! (Yeah, that made it better.)
Two bits of good news: first, K's ears got the all-clear. Second, they (the tots, not the ears) tipped the scales at 22.6 pounds apiece. I think that keeps them pretty firmly in the pee-wee categories, but it's always nice to get an update.
As always, there's so much more to tell than there is time to type, and I've just got to get a decent night's sleep. The big snoring guy has got the right idea, if the wrong location. So off to bed I go, with a belly full of miniature Reese's cups.
Tomorrow: NaBlaBla begins! Who wants to make bets on how soon I'll flake out?
Love,
Amy
P.S. It's not my news to share, so I will happily delete this if asked, but... dearest friends who have been so patient, persistent and faithful, we are over-the-moon happy for you and your sweet family tonight!! xoxox F5
P.P.S. The big guy is an early bird; see above. Thanks, sweetie!
posted by mrsf5 at 9:52 PM
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