Yeah, this pretty much sums up Halloween

Halloween

We were ’sittin the night of the neighborhood Halloween party so Kim was good enough to send Ellie over as her true impish self. We hauled our little garden fairy and pardner on over to a neighborhood potluck, 5-gallon drum band/tap dance extravaganza and rock hunt.

We do things just a little different up here on the Hill.

Pictured are the Cowboy riding off into the sunset and the reclining garden fairy at home, Cowboy and Fairy at the party watching the percussion show and finally, Ellie, the tribal dancing fairy. That girl knows how to have her a good time.

Lucky for us we had several neighbors present who helped corral, feed and rock-hunt or we might have lost a kid or two over the course of the evening. Ellie was seriously channeling her inner sprite.

A boy, a horse, a truck and some poop.

Found in the stash

We went to the park in our sweaters and sunglasses because this was Seattle and it was only April.

We went to the park in our winter coats and our woolen hats because I had finally finished knitting them.

We went to the park with our pack full of spare clothes in case we got muddy or wet or just needed a change.

We went to the park and it was 60 degrees and sunny and all the other children were running around in shorts and flip flops.

My son refused to take off his coat.

Boy

FrogMonkey seems to have grown. A lot. He used to be 6 pounds. Now he’s over 30. When did that happen?

Pwe-skoow

FrogMonkey started preschool three weeks ago. He already has an arch enemy and a girlfriend. Every morning he wakes up: Mama aw we gonna go to pweskoow today?
Yes.
I’m ‘xcited.
Yes. You are. Let’s got eat breakfst, get dressed and brush our teeth so we can go to preschool.
I doan wanna go to pweskoow.
And so on til we arrive.
It’s co-op so I stay with him one day and he attends the other day without me. Or will one of these weeks. So far I haven’t found another parent to be in charge of him on my day off, a requirement of the school, I guess.
The group is a bit disorganized, the teacher and the administrator or “parent aid” being the only people who have done the whole preschool thing before and not being the super organized types. But it seems like a good group. 20 kids. 4 girls. 16 boys. It’s a little bit of an adjustment. Logan seems to be enjoying himself though and very responsive to the teacher and other parents. I think it will be good for both of us.

Our little mechanic

For the last month, FrogMonkey’s new hobby has been tools. Real tools. He discovered an electrical outlet box in the basement while hanging out with Papa. He acquired a screw driver set and promptly sat down to learn how to take the box apart and put it back together. The whole box: from metal stud bracket to outlet cover. For three weeks he would play with nothing else. He would not go outside. He would not eat other than upon pain of toy loss.

Then he discovered the wheel. Four screws and a piece of wood were produced and he had the beginnings of his “skate board”.

Dump trucks were then found to haul screws from one project to another and little Bill Ding men were sealed inside outlet boxes, er, “garages”.

Finally, a long board, a hammer and a variety of nails brought some excitement back to the game. The skateboard was promptly attached to the new board and after 3 days he managed to hammer a short nail all the way into the board. (With much kissing of banged up thumbs.)

Today he is learning the finer points of dismantling a deadbolt. Who knew there were so many pieces?

I don’t wanna be big!

FM doesn’t like to eat. He doesn’t like to put down his toys and take the time. He’s already heard all the arguments from everybody. So now when we announce meal time he commences the whine and sob, “I don’ wanna be big! I wanna stay wittow! Fo evah and eveh and evah!

I’m not wet! I’m all clean!

FM’s latest is to deny any need for a diaper change until he is standing in a puddle, soaked from the waist down or until his diaper is so full the weak velcro can’t hold it up any more and falls down to his ankles.

I’m Mister Heat Miser

I would really like to know why my heater has died every year since FM’s birth. First it was the thermostat, then it was some little mechanism in the heater. I have no idea what today’s issue might be. I’m just glad it’s not January this time.