While we were waiting for school to let out this afternoon, Blessing #s 3 and 4 were bickering and fussing in the back seat. This was disturbing my reading time (as I was trying to finish my current book Bygones so I could move on to the next, a Karen Kingsbury novel I've had on hold at the library).

With all the poking and pestering, irritation and tears, this frustrated Moma might have said something to the effect that if I had to get out of the car and go back there, then maybe, just maybe, they'd have to stay home from trick-or-treating.

Idle threat? Yeah, pretty much so.

But I didn't fib. If I did say it, I said maybe.

Guess it worked, though. B#3 turns to B#4 and with great enthusiasm exclaimed, Hey! Let's wait! And then we can fight when we get home!

More happy, happy, joy, joy when B#4 responded with an eager Yay! Okay!

Come trick-or-treating time, seven set out- three princesses, a superhero, a sheriff, a daddy escort, and a weary moma tag-along.

There's a new sheriff in town. No walking for this big guy. As his shoes have been misplaced, B#5 rode door-to-door on his four-legged wheeled steed. His sack was forgotten at home, so he only gathered a few pieces of candy, which he collected in his lap and gnawed on during the short stint around the loop.

The Reese's and Milky Way were crushed but withstood the gnashing.

The M&Ms did not.

Forget the motto. M&Ms melt in your mouth, in your hands, and on your white-felt Holstein chaps.
Even so, B#5 may have fared better than Thor, whose bag developed a hole, as he kept dragging it along the sidewalk. Evidently, it was not a little hole either. He came home with just a couple small pieces of candy. But his happy-factor was still big, especially when Moma moved candy from the other kids' bags into his. :)

This superhero did a marvelous job of beefing up his public support. No generic "trick-or-treat" and general "thank you" for this one. His good-natured, innocent banter was in proportion to his good-sized muscles.

Don't I look fancy? This is my Thor dress-up! I'm a hero! Look at my big muscles! (Insert courtesy muscle flexing here.) The last house gave me three pieces of candy! Whoop! Whoop! Hey you funny scary face! Hallo-hallo-ween-een-een! Ohhh... double thanks!
Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, and Ariel were adorned in blue eyeshadow and ruby-red lipstick... Need I say more? A little make-up and these girls were in princess-costume heaven. In spite of Because of the blue eyeshadow and the ruby-red lipstick, B#s 1, 2, & 4 couldn't stop talking about how pretty their faces were.

When they weren't out trick-or-treating, B#s 1 & 2 were talking to their mirrored reflections. And from the cooing I overheard through the half-shut bathroom door, I have a feeling Prince Charming was on the other side of that mirror.

B#4 didn't have time to hang out in front of the mirror. She was far too busy sneaking into the sugar booty that Moma had already stashed away.

Zacchaeus did not wear his floppy-antlered reindeer costume this year. Instead, he made a showing as a naked Ewok.

To end the night, Yassir showed up in the living room where I sat with my sheriff. B#5 protested, grunted, and let out a few nuh-uhs. But he got a hug anyway.

Yassir's reception was equally not so warm when he, unbeknownst to me, showed up in the bathroom last night while I was leaning over the sink brushing my teeth. He rubbed those scraggly whiskers on my skin as he leaned in to kiss me on the neck.

A stomping-feet, waving-hands, EWW!-shrieking mini-moma-tantrum ensued. Then to accompany the squeamish tummy he gave me, Yassir got a donkey kick to the leg.

I let out another moaning eww. Beloved Husband just laughed.

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WARNING: This is addictive.:)

Play the game...
and see how many
grains of rice
you can donate!

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...for the perfect pint-size jack-o'-lantern!

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We made a quick trip to the library after school. I needed to check out a book that was on hold. The stop at the library was unplanned, and I told them we were only staying for a couple minutes.

No computer games, I said. "That's okay, Moma," they oh-so-sweetly responded. "We just want to color!"

When we arrived at the coloring table, my kids were the only ones. The coloring pages were neatly filed in the slots, and the crayons were all in the bucket. It was tidy and orderly.

That was when we arrived. After two milliseconds, Blessing #5 stormed through.

I was retrieving my library card out of my wallet and turned my head to find B#5 grabbing fistful after fistful of crayons, piling them on the table.

In case you weren't aware, a pile of crayons rolls.



There were crayons scattered all over the table, all over the bench, all over the floor. So, the conscientious mother that I am, I scolded the little cherub and started cleaning the crayons.

You know the rule: Always leave it cleaner than you found it.

Ha. That was unlikely. So I went by the next best rule: Leave it clean enough that you're not embarrassed to be seen walking away from it.

I got all the crayons back in the bucket. B#5 was no longer interested in coloring. He had moved on.

I grabbed him as he wiggled the mouse with one hand and was about to push the power button on the computer with the other. I told the kids we were leaving. Now.

B#5 was irritable. Mom's no fun, and he hadn't napped yet.

I sent B#2 and B#4 out the door and told them to wait on the chairs in the lobby. I was holding B#5. B#1 and B#3 were still coloring. I gave them the exaggerated jerk of the head, motioning toward the door. B#1 reluntantly left the table.

B#3 said he was still coloring.

Exaggerated head jerk accompanied by the you-had-better-get-up-now look.

Boy, that boy can be stubborn.

I went over to him, leaned down and said that we were leaving and he could color at home.

Boy, that boy can whine.

With the I-have-loud-kids-in-a-quiet-establishment supermom strength, I picked up the hollering child by the underarm and carried him to the exit... where he then collapsed in a heap like a pile of wet noodles.

I pushed that pile of wet noodles out the door with my foot.
Some people might say "kicked."

Noooo. I say "rolled."

With one book in hand (and a crying baby, a fussing preschooler, and two barefoot children), I left the library.

Ah, a drive-thru. Wouldn't that be handy. Or a complimentary delivery service.

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Psalm 23:4 took on a deeper meaning for me this week.

I guess it seems that there are some times in life when it feels inappropriate to laugh, but if there's one thing I've learned over this last week, it is that laughter really is the best medicine.

There can be joy even in the grief. There can be smiles even in the tears.

And it is healing.

As I spent these last days with family and friends saying good-bye to my youngest brother, I became so aware of God's grace. Even in sorrow, there is peace. I did not spend the week questioning God's reasons or God's timing. Rather I spent the week recalling the memories and rejoicing in the knowledge that Jesus had called my brother home.

Nobody was prepared to say good-bye. My brother went to sleep that night thinking he'd wake up and spend another day at Disney World with his family. But as the pastor said in the memorial service, I'm sure no one was more surprised than my brother when he woke up, not in that hotel room, but in the arms of his Savior.

And how can I not smile at that?

It's bittersweet, but "yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me."

And because Sixbit wouldn't have wanted it any other way, I make my "return" to blogging with something silly... because laughter really is healing.

1. MY ROCK STAR NAME: (first pet & current car)
Heidi Suburban

2. MY GANGSTA NAME: (fave ice cream flavor, favorite cookie)
Mocha Biscotti

3. MY “FLY Guy/Girl” NAME: (first initial of first name, first three letters of your last name)
S-bow

4. MY DETECTIVE NAME: (favorite color, favorite animal)
Orange Piggy

5. MY SOAP OPERA NAME: (middle name, hospital where you were born)
Michelle Lovelace

6. MY STAR WARS NAME: (the first 3 letters of your last name, first 2 letters of your first)
Bowsu

7. MY SUPERHERO NAME: (”The” + 2nd favorite color, favorite drink)
The Pink Fizzy

8. MY NASCAR NAME: (the first names of your grandfathers)
Pershing Ganum

9. MY WITNESS PROTECTION NAME: (mother’s & father’s middle names )
Jane Ray

10. MY TV WEATHER ANCHOR NAME: (Your 5th grade teacher’s last name, a major city that starts with the same letter)
Hood Houston

11. MY SPY NAME: (your favorite season/holiday, flower)
Autumn Daisy

12. MY CARTOON NAME: (favorite fruit, article of clothing you’re wearing right now + “ie” or “y”)
Cantaloupe Fleecy

13. MY HIPPIE NAME: (What you ate for breakfast, your favorite tree)
Yogurt Willow

14. MY ROCKSTAR TOUR NAME: ("The" + Your fave hobby/craft, fave weather element + "Tour")
The Snapshot Rain Tour

Join in the fun. It's good for ya.:)

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.

We are hard pressed on every side,

but not crushed;

perplexed, but not in despair;

persecuted, but not abandoned;

struck down, but not destroyed.

~2 Corinthians 4:8,9~

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