The Halloween Costume That The Boy Chose Himself

He loves to dress up. With the exception of Woody, Micah's favorite toy is the dress-up trunk. He has several pirate outfits, an entire Buzz Lightyear getup, cowboy gear, hats of all shapes and colors, sports gear, skirts, a Hawaiian shirt, and his trusty man-bag. There's more, but those are the ones that get used regularly. Micah loves to dress up.

Any time the kids have a dress-up night at church, he declares it a free-for-all and dresses up, too, even if his class isn't in on the dressing up.  Micah dresses up to play a certain character that he's watching on TV, and dresses up to jump on the trampoline. He never needs a reason to dress up, either. He'll just dress up for the sheer love of dressing up.

This Halloween, we figured Micah would have a blast choosing his outfit. I even got him a new pirate costume so that he'd have something original to wear if he wanted. And he did, for the Halloween parade and trunk-or-treat in town. He wore his new pirate costume with his striped pajamas underneath to help ward off the cold. I sent the pirate costume to school the next day for the Halloween party since it was obviously approved by the boy.

So the night that we went trick-or-treating came around, and the kids were dressing up again. Becky and Josh, the nephew and Luke - all were in costume. But Micah was focused on going to grandma's house. His bags were packed, and he asked on his Voice every 5 minutes if we were going yet. Trick-or-treating is fun, but he was going to grandma's. Don't bother him with a costume, please.

But we were going trick-or-treating, and he needed to put clothing on because while we're all sorts of loose in our dress codes here, we do insist on more than boxer shorts when it's snowing. I figured that since he was not all that into the costume thing, I wouldn't give him a choice but would just get the same old pirate that he wore earlier in the week. I layered his pajamas on, and he asked if we were going to grandma's. Yes, Micah, we're going to grandma's after we go trick-or-treating. He was happy, but he was done getting dressed. There was no getting clothing on over those pajamas. I did what I could in the 2.5 minutes we had before running out the door and made him an impromptu stocking cap to go with it.

This year, Micah went trick-or-treating as The Boy Who Wore His Pajamas. You know, he went as himself.

*Yes, I know I said it was snowing. And I know there is no snow in this photo. This was the first stop of the night. By the last stop, we had a very good dusting of snow collecting on everything that should have been covered in Halloween instead.

We've Got A Reputation To Uphold

Pennsylvania is not a state you think of for horrible winter conditions, or even excessive snow, but our particular county has a reputation for winter nastiness that is well earned. We can be an hour away in Pittsburgh, or three hours downstate, or the whole way across the country, but if we tell people where we're from, and they've ever been here, it's predictable what they'll say.

"Wow, your winters are horrible."

Sometimes, that'll be followed by, "Isn't that where Flight 93 went down?" or some other reason for remembering our location on the map, but if anyone has ever been here in the wintertime, they'll remember it. And nine and a half chances out of ten, it won't be a pleasant memory. Cars get stuck on the turnpike, travelers get snowed in and can't get out, freak snow storms dump several feet of snow overnight and shut down roads. But hey, we've got decent skiing, so there's that. Except we don't ski. Of course.

This weekend, we got a jump start on keeping up our winter reputation. That nor'easter that hit the east coast hit us pretty hard as well. For the first time ever, we cancelled the corn maze due to snow. That is something I hope never happens again. Enough snow in October to cancel an event is just WRONG.

But a very strange thing happened this weekend that I just didn't predict. Besides the snow. I love it. The snow, that is. I loved  the snow. I have always loved winter, but the last two we've had have been rather excessive, and I declared myself So.Over.Winter. In fact, I was So.Over.Winter that I was living in mortal dread of this year's snow. It was next thing to a panic attack coming on every time I'd think of winter. I think it's most disturbing because I'm far too young to be a snow bird.

But when I woke up Saturday morning to this:

I was Christmas morning kind of giddy. I hated myself for loving it, but that didn't change the fact that I did. How can you NOT love the beauty of that? Gosh, it's breathtaking. That was Saturday. On Sunday, it started to warm up enough to melt off, but we're still left with way too much in October.

Luke spent his Sunday afternoon making this.

And while it's very impressive, and something that he'll probably never EVER do again in October (THANKGOODNESS), it doesn't diminish the wrongness of it.

So just for the record, I am now over winter. For the year. If what we have now just melted off into spring, and lasted through until June when it slowly warmed into summer, I'd not complain. Unfortunately, we live in Somerset, the county with a reputation to uphold. And this county takes it's reputation seriously.

Frosty

You're Invited

It's October. The end of October, actually. I know you're not shocked by this because we've lived in October for several weeks now, but I waited until the end to mention the fact that we're living the corn maze again. It's just something we do on the weekends.

The maze, of course, is a good time. It twists and turns and circles back on itself. There's the bridge to view the lost and wandering, or to scout out where you're going next. Or to find your way out if you need to.

There is the water balloon sling shot, which is a favorite of everyone except the one filling the balloons. And no, we don't ever shoot at people. That was for photographical comic only.

The go carts are Micah's newest love. He is big enough this year to pedal all by himself, and pedal he does. Round and round and round...

Josh proudly drives kiddos on the train, with his own lawn tractor. He's far happier to do that than fill water balloons.

But one of the most fun things to do at the corn maze is the slide. The great big huge giant slide. The one that dumps you out in a heap of straw at the bottom to stop you from plowing into the corn field. The kids love that like they love nothing else. See the size of it?

And see the sheer joy the kids feel while riding it?

If you're ever in our neck of the woods, you'll have to be sure to stop in. It's the best few hours of your entire October.

Halloween Funness

Halloween is traditionally all about candy. Candy is awesome, so I totally approve. And every year I try to find something a little more fun to do with candy than just give it. We get no trick-or-treaters here, so the creativity has to be directed toward Micah's class. The other kids have what seems like half the county in their classes, and creativity is hindered by finances. Sad, but true.

This year I found this cute little thing to do with Hershey bars.

And this cute little thing to do with Tootsie Pops.

Pinterest is awesome for sharing fun ideas like this. And I got super excited about making these fun things for a treat bag for each kid in Micah's class. I bought a full size Hershey bar for each kid, and a bag of Tootsie Pops, and a bag of googly eyes. It was fun. I was excited. I should have seen it coming, of course.

Some of the kids in Micah's class have allergies and can't have candy.

First of all, I really feel badly for these kids. Halloween is all about candy, and the other 364 days of the year are fun days to have candy as well. While a candy allergy would probably do me a lot of good in the health department, I'd be totally bummed about it. Hence, I feel totally bummed on behalf of these poor kiddos.

Secondly, I needed to get really creative in getting non-candy things for the friends in Micah's class. While I could run out to get stickers, Play-Doh, and Matchbox cars, I have this thing for homemade goodies. I wish I wasn't so weird like this. On my to-do list are things like silly putty, and finger paint, and crayons.

I mastered the crayons, and it was actually a whole lot of fun. Back to school time is the most fun time to be in Walmart because all the organizational stuff makes me very happy. And the prices! Ohhh, the prices. I get Crayola crayons for less than half a dollar. And I buy no less than a dozen packs every August. They come in handy for times like this.

Becky and I spent some time slipping off crayon papers (kindergartners all over the world are now jealous of us)  and chopping crayons into itty bitty pieces. We filled muffin tins nearly full with coordinating crayon colors, then popped them in the oven for a few minutes until they were all melty.

And then we just let them sit there for a few hours, cooling. I wanted to be sure the centers were completely firmed and cooled. The one that we tested wasn't quite. That one will be Micah's. And miraculously, once they're cooled, they just fall out when you turn the pan upside down.

See how fun these things are?

And I know they're huge, but considering that Micah's class has kids much like him, they all benefit from big, chunky things like preschool pencils and extra huge crayons made in muffin tins.

Now I've just got to get that other stuff made, along with the kids' Halloween costumes. Procrastination is da bomb.

It's Pumpkin Mutilating Time Again

He's A Demanding Little Thing, And I Love It

After that seminar we attended last week, we came home and reprogrammed Micah's talker completely. We added more than a dozen more buttons, and even more words, and it's so overwhelmingly confusing to all of us that we figured it'd be forever before he learned to use it. Again.

We'd contemplated hiding half the keys to make things easier for him, but he's a little techie and grasps things so much quicker than my old and tired mind does that we figured we'd give it a week or so and see how he does with it first.

We showed him how to use buttons to make words that he would have to read, and couldn't, like "I" and "want" and "is" and other things that may or may not have a descriptive picture to help him. He was all sorts of interested when we showed him the new things, but his attention span for learning new things is clearly not the same attention span he has for watching videos. It was fun, but he had a life to get back to.

Over the weekend, we'd show him how to ask for things. "I want a sandwich" was typed in, and he was just frustrated because I wasted time on "I want a" when clearly the only operative word in that sentence was "sandwich."

And then today, just out of the blue, he said, "I do I need milk." There's a lot we could say about this sentence, including the fact that it's completely incorrect, gramatically. My guess is that he accidentally pushed "do" and then started over without clearing. And I love the fact that he doesn't ask for milk, but demands it. There is no wanting, mind you. He needs milk. But the most amazing thing about that sentence is that he produced it all on his own.

Communication is an amazing thing. I never thought my heart would leap for joy when a computerized voice demanded things of me, but that day has come. That computerized voice is my 8 year old son, finally able to communicate with me in full sentences. I may be a biased mom, but I find him to be nothing short of genius. And I will look foward to hearing everything that has been swirling in his head for the past 8 years.

I have no idea how our contact information was shared with the people who hosted that seminar last week, but I have very strong suspicions that God had a mighty finger in it. And we are so grateful for what we've learned, and how it'll allow our son to grow beyond our feeble imaginations.

A Photography Walk

Micah is not a fan of the camera. He'd rather not have my lens all up in his grill, and is very subtle at ignoring it. And by ignoring it, I don't mean he pretends it's not there. I mean, he turns his back toward me. Or at the very least, he turns his face away. He is so skilled at this that it's become his super power. And he does it so nonchalantly that to the unobserving eye, it looks very much like he is completely unaware that I'm there and he is simply playing.

This is one I got recently that shows the fact that he knows exactly what he's doing.

As far as picture quality goes, it's pretty much crap, and I had to edit to even get his face lightened, but just look at the every-so-tiny grin on his face, and the way he's looking over his shoulder at me. He was very well aware that I was snapping pictures. He tossed Woody down off the swingset, and I was there waiting for him to come down. He walked to Woody with his back to me, leaned down to pick up his friend, and turned to grin, clearly saying, "Ha! Who's the smarty now?" I was lucky enough to catch that half-second look on digital image forever. So despite the crap quality of the photo, it's one of my favorites.

Today was a super rare day and Micah was in the mood to pose for me. This happens approximately once every other week, if I'm lucky. And usually that pose is for something like, "Hey, see the dress-up outfit I pulled together out of your discarded scarf, a Hawaiian shirt, pirate pants, and a superhero mask? Take my picture!" Not exactly something you'd want to hang on the wall, or even really keep on the computer's hard drive taking up space.

Today, I got the boy's full cooperation. And I learned a few things. Posed pictures are not my favorite, by a long shot. I am in love with captured moments of real time, not stand-there-and-do-that unnaturalness.

While this is as cute as you're going to get from the boy who avoids the lens, it's not my favorite. And yet, it'll most likely end up framed somewhere because it is cute, and that level of cooperation needs to be rewarded. (And for the record, I did not pose him. That was all The Ham, showing a rare appearance.)

This one would be my favorite, though. I don't know why, because it needs cropped, and exposure is off a tad, and a few other glaring things are screaming at me. But I adore it. He'd just taken his shoes off and was swinging his feet in pure glee. It's so very Micah.

I also learned today that when you have the perfect spur-of-the-moment shot in focus and the boy is still for more than 1.3 seconds so that I can capture it, his face will always be in a shadow. Always. And because he is so skilled at avoiding my lens, I cannot ever just move to get him into the sunlight. He will also move, right back into the shadows again. Truly, it's his super power.

And the last thing I learned today is that when I have willing subjects, and the weather is unseasonally gorgeous, and the stars align just right so that I can practice photography and come out at the end of 200 plus photos with some awesome winners, the battery will be the one to say, "Meh, I've had enough of this today."

There's absolutely no reason for that photo to be out of focus, and I am super bummed that it is. It was at that point that I realized my battery was in need of a fix, and the focus went downhill fast after that.  I swear, if it's not the kids or the weather being uncooperative, it's the equipment.

The Kiddos

I Learned All Sorts of Things This Week

We spent the last few days at a small conference, learning how to better use Micah's Voice. While it was mostly geared toward speech therapists vs. parents, and we spent a very large portion of our time discussing things like syntax and iconicity and semantics, it was incredibly enlightening.

First of all, I realized that I was clearly not a professional in a room full of professionals. While everyone showed up with laptops to work from, mine was the only one sporting Calvin & Hobbes. And coupled with the fact that I also had my bright multi-colored phone (set to vibrate) on the table and my blue and white flower-clad iPod in full display, I felt very much Legally Blonde. Clearly, not the professional. But that's alright, because those professionals have their jobs because of parents like us. We're just doing our part to stimulate the economy. Our boy is golden. Or something like that.

I was so worried about being away for 3 days in the middle of the week. If I am not home when Micah gets off the bus, he freaks out. I had a doctor appointment go late last week and Becky had to call me so that Micah could sob in hysterics into the phone. He was happier once he heard my voice, but still far from happy. What would happen if I wasn't there for 3 days running?

Nothing, that's what. The first day, Becky called me when he got home, and while he sounded a bit concerned, he was thrilled that I told him Luke would be home soon. I didn't hear from him for the next 2 days. And when we walked in the door after being going most of the week, he didn't even get up from watching TV to greet us.

Yep, broken up for sure. Probably scarred for life.

A Case of Mistaken Identity

Micah was dancing Woody on the floor the other day, having quite the dialogue about who knows what. He was dressed as he is in this photo. As I walked by, I said, "Woody, what are you doing?" (Because it makes Micah laugh when I address Woody. He finds it highly amusing.) He didn't that day, though. Instead he looked at me like I grew a third eyeball on the tip of my nose, and he patted his chest in gravity.

How could I have missed it? He was Woody that night. Obviously.

And on a complete side note, I will miss the day that Micah stops dancing Woody on the hardwood. I will know that my baby is really and truly grown up, and I will mourn just a little bit.

Anti Sandwich Snarfing Maneuvers

Micah started eating all his meals in front of the TV a very long time ago. We fought it at first, forcing him to join us at the dinner table, but we soon realized why the baby in the family is so spoiled. Seriously, the boy is eating. Is it worth a forty minute screamfest to make him eat where we choose vs. where he wants to? We have no problem letting him eat in front of the TV for snacks and his own impromptu meals, so why make it a fight when the rest of the family eats a meal? It's just so not worth the effort.

Of course, since we decided that where the boy eats is irrelevant, our family has somehow fallen out of the habit of nightly dinner around the table. It's sad, and we sometimes miss it. And when we miss it, or if I remember, we gather around the table again. A few shocking things happen when I set the table for a meal. The teens gather for dinner with no fussing at all. Micah will turn his movie off and excitedly join us at the table. And the kids will sit and talk long after the meal is over. It's like magic. Very special family magic. I love it.

But even knowing this, we still don't eat dinner around the table every night. And Micah still eats in front of the TV. And we have daily struggles over this. While we really don't care where the boy eats, we do care if he walks away from his plate and lets the dogs clean it up. Nothing irks me more than dropping everything to make him a sandwich, only for a four legged shedding machine to snarf it up while Micah runs back into the kitchen for a drink. My cries of, "put your plate on the coffee table" generally fall on his selectively screened ears.  It remains on the floor, and I keep a vigilant eye on the pack of canines milling around in the living room.

The other day, after I fixed him a sandwich, he laid it on the floor in front of the TV and returned to the kitchen to get a drink. I instantly looked in the direction of the living room to take inventory of the dog pack. They were milling around in front of the TV, sniffing underneath the entertainment center. There was no plate in sight.

Dadgum those dogs, snarfing up Micah's sandwich, and then being greedy enough to push the plate under the stand while trying to lick the crumbs. And yet, instead of just jumping into making Micah another sandwich, I watched as he took his drink back to the living room, parted the sea of dogs, and pulled his plate out from under the TV stand. His sandwich was waiting for him, completely untouched.

I never fail to underestimate that boy.

We Shall Be Photoless

After homeschooling for a few years, I was under the delusion that we had to take full advantage of all that school had to offer once we enrolled the kids. I read every single word on every single paper that came home. I joined the PTA and attended meetings. I went to all the Meet The Teacher nights, even if I’d already met that teacher in that grade with another child. I bought school picture packages like they were the only photographic evidence that my kids existed that year. There was little that I didn’t do.

I have wizened up over the years and realized that I don’t have to do everything to be considered a good parent. Or maybe I got lazier, but we’ll go with the first. It just sounds better. I know the PTA is very important, but also realized that it was more of an exclusive club of disorganized friends who weren’t all that open to outside ideas. I kindly bowed out after the first year. I decided that if I’ve already met that teacher, it’s kinda redundant to meet that teacher again. I already know that I can contact the teachers at any time via the internet, because they gave me that information the first time I met them. And this year is the year that I didn’t buy any school pictures. At all.

This one took a while to learn, because I love pictures. I take them all the time. I have albums and photo books full of recorded history, and a chest full of pictures in the living room, waiting for something to happen to them. But last year, I had the kids on a personal holiday when school pictures were taken, and while 2 boys were there for the make-up day, the third boy had just recently broken some arms and was home, high on pain killers. And last year was Becky’s first full year of cyber school so she didn’t get any school photos at all. And no. I do not stage my kids in front of a blue wall with their head cocked to the side and a fake smile declaring how uncomfortably they’re posed. Last year, I have school photos of half my gang, and there’s nothing I can do to undo that.

So this year, I figured it was safe to not buy school photos. At all. I am sure the schools now thinks I’m the worst of uncaring parents. I mean, who doesn’t buy school pictures to proudly display on walls and exchange like trading cards? Me, that’s who.

But it isn’t like I don’t have photos of the kids. At every stage of their life. Several times over. I’ve earned the name Mamarazzi honestly. In a day’s outing with the kids, I’ll come home with several hundred pictures to wade through. And the walls bear evidence of this. It was pointed out to me recently that all I have displayed on the walls are photos. I don’t have purchased art, or fine paintings, or even crafty type knick knack kind of things. I have photos. Photos on canvas, photos in frames, photos hanging from ribbons by clips. Photos. Dozens of them. And I just don’t feel as though a hastily snapped shot from an assembly line at school is going to be anything better than what I already have.

It's a Party

Borrowing on Next Week

Because I woke up with burning in unspeakable places accompanied with cramping and fever, I found myself at the doctor's office this afternoon. The plan was to get in, pee in a cup, stop by for meds, and be home by the time Micah got home from school. But in the event that I would be delayed (one can never count on doctor's offices to be as prompt as all that) Becky was waiting at home for the boy to get off the van.

(Oh, sorry about that TMI right out of the gate. Maybe this should have come with a warning.)

And because nothing is ever what you think it is, I was delayed. Immensely. The good news is that I'm not pregnant, just in case you thought that might be an option. Which it's not. And apparently isn't. The bad news is that I wasn't home when Micah got off the van.

I got a phone call as I was checking out because my cell phone only rings at inopportune times. It's my phone's super power. My phone will not ring for 3 days straight, but the minute I am paying the cashier, or sitting in a public toilet stall somewhere, the phone will ring. Loudly and annoyingly. In fact, just as I got to the doctor's office and was being shown the ins-and-outs of the restroom's pee-in-a-cup routine, the cell rang. It.Is.A.Gift.

It was Becky who called while I was checking out. She said Micah was very distraught because I wasn't home, and when she handed him the phone, he most definitely fit that description. I reassured him that I'd be home soon, and he handed the phone to Becky when we were done talking. She said he calmed very quickly after that, but he was most certainly glad to see me when I got home.

I know this is a direct result of the day I wasn't home when Micah got off the bus. I fear we'll be suffering the repurcussions of that for a loooong time, and my guilt will increase a zillionfold every time Micah remembers it. Next week, however, will prove to be interesting when we go away for a few days. We have a plan to implement, and with his new concept-grasping skill it just may be what keeps him from unraveling. Or I may come home to a boy who is not only scarred for life, but will never trust anyone ever again.

Moms worry a whole lot.

Unexpected Neon and White

It was a very quiet and low-key kind of day, which is so very welcome around here on occasion. Micah comes home at 2:30, and breaks up the afternoon in a nice kind of way. We have an hour, just Micah and me, before the other boys get home from school and chaos happens with homework and dinner and evening activities.

His bus driver relayed the message that his aide reported a rash on his tummy after swimming today, and wanted me to be aware of it. Micah beelined to me, dropped his bookbag, shed his coat, and stripped out of his shirt. There was definitely a rash. And it was definitely bothering him.

Mom senses kick in in situations like this. Mom senses start analyzing everything. What is it from? Just getting on and off the swimming raft like the aide thought? What else could it be? Too much chlorine in the pool? Is it just on his tummy, or is it elsewhere, too? What should I do about it right now to help him feel better? Is salve alright, or should I have something else? Is it severe enough to call a doctor? Is it an allergic reaction? Will he not be able to swim again? Because his life would end if that were the case.

And these thoughts (and a zillion and thirty nine more) race through a mom's mind in approximately .382 seconds. In a full two seconds I was in the medicine bin looking for something to apply to that huge and itchy rash that was bothering my boy.

We did not have Benadryl. Mostly because it was my first choice, but probably also because nobody in this family suffers from poison ivy, allergic rashes, or any other reason to need Benadryl. I did find the Neosporin, and figured it would at least add a soothing and protective barrier. But then I spotted a bottle of an unidentified something and figured it was worth reading the label.

Benadryl Spray. Bingo. Bin-Go. And I sprayed the boy's tummy, hoping it didn't freak him out with the cold spray. I was in luck, he didn't notice the cold. That's because the burning made his screams reach a decibel that nearly shattered eardrums. I watched as the red rash started glowing neon, and small white bumps grew before my very eyes.

And the boy screamed.

That was a huge fail. I got a wet washcloth and wiped down Micah's tummy, trying to soothe the anger and pain I caused. Micah's go-to in situations like this is a bath, so we tromped upstairs and ran some water. In the meantime, I called the pediatrician to see what they recommended to soothe the rash. They recommended being seen. Of course.

And of course, by the time we got there, the neon faded, the white spots were completely gone, and it was determined that Micah had a rash from swimming. It could have been too much chlorine, or sliding on and off the raft too many times. And Micah was bummed that I didn't stop at Red Box to get him a free movie.

Another Perspective

Mom Knows Best. I Wish I'd Remember That More Often.

Any parent will tell you that they know their child better than anyone else does, and it's the truth. But I'm finding that in the world of special needs, so many professionals think they know what's best for your child more so than the parent does. I believed them for so many long years. I mean, they're professionals, and I was so new to this world. I kid you not when I say that parenting Micah (our 4th child) is like learning to be a parent all over again. The rules have changed. All of them. And some have been completely reinvented based on circumstances. It's intimidating, and if I can rely on a professional to tell me what to do, I'm grateful for their help.
But this summer has taught me that it's alright to trust my instincts. Parents know their children better than anyone else does. This summer, I chose not to take Micah to speech therapy. At all. This summer, Micah's speech has come so very far. It's not because I chose not to have him therapized. (It's a word. I invented it.) It's simply because Micah continues to work so very hard on his own, and 30 minutes per week of someone telling him what to do won't make any more difference.

This summer, I chose not to send Micah to summer school. I did once, that first year that the professionals recommended it, and I regretted that decision. Micah hated to be away from the family when the other kids were home. And really, what was the point? Summer school for kids with delays is to help those kids retain as much information as they can so they don't get too far behind their peers when school starts again in the fall. In the past, Micah hadn't really learned much to forget. This year, though, he did. He learned his numbers and can count to 10 all by himself. He learned the alphabet, and can recognize them in print, write them, and say their sound. It's a huge accomplishment. There was knowledge to be lost. And yet I chose to keep him home.

I had doubts. I mean, the professionals made it clear that Micah would lose so much of what he learned if he wasn't tutored over summer. But I made my choice, and resolved to help Micah with his letters and numbers on my own. That resulted in pasting the alphabet in the upstairs hallway, and counting things on an infrequent basis. I rock the commitment, let me tell you.
But just a few weeks before school started, I went over the alphabet with Micah. He knew every single letter, and not only did he know them as I chose randomly from the stack, he knew their sound and the accompanying hand sign.

I am making public note of the fact that I know my child better than anyone else does. I am going to come back and re-read this in the future when I have doubts, and the professionals try to tell me that they know what's best for my son. I will stand firm in the knowledge that I know my own child and am able to make my own informed choices for his future.

I am a mother. I guess that's all I needed to know all along.

Saved By A Skin

Our family has fallen in love with the iPod Touch. We've all got our own, and of course they're all personalized to fit each owner. The problem comes in when someone picks up a random iPod that isn't theirs. I know you're thinking that they'd recognize that device as Not Theirs, but you'd be only partially correct. They do recognize it as Not Theirs, but they also Don't Care.

We all have our own personalized outsides as well as personalized content, but we don't seem to be very creative. Two have Otter Boxes, one has a plaid hard case (Mine! Mine!) and two have no covers or cases at all. And because we have older generations of the Touch, the only color Otter Boxes available are black. So yeh, we've got 2 black Otter Box cases, 2 with no differentiating marks, and one that stands out. And the kids just pick up one of the doubles and pretend they don't know it's Not Theirs.

In an effort to differentiate, we got Micah a skin for his Touch from InvisibleSkinz.com. It's one of the many companies out there that offer skins for electronic devices. It's the first skin we've had experience with, and we're quite impressed with the quality of both the skin and it's ability to differentiate Micah's iPod as Micah's iPod. Even from across the room, we can tell the other kids, "unhand that and give it back to your brother."

And they're totally busted. Because despite accusations to the contrary, it's not only Micah who runs a battery down to zilch and lets a device lay. We have saved the nonverbal one from unfair accusations.

The Road Less Traveled

Micah is Most Likely Going As Himself This Halloween. It's The Trend.

We are at that time of year when Halloween costumes are thought about in earnest. The decision making is narrowed down to just-one-yes-one because I have to have time to scour thrift stores for the necessary items. Luke has decided in a last minute twist that he will be a minion, which will be super fun and fairly simple to pull off. Score. Becky got a dress the other day that not only is the most flattering thing she'll ever wear at the skinny size 2 she is, but also could double as her Audrey Hepburn costume dress. Double score. Or triple if you count the fact that she got that thing for $2.50. (I've taught that girl to shop well.) Josh and I are still arguing about what he will be, mostly because I'm not loving what he's throwing down in front of me as options. He may end up going as a bag of trash. I may or may not give him eye holes to allow maximum oxygen flow. Heh.

I'm sure you noticed that I let Micah out of the above mentioned list. That kid loves to dress up, and has a trunk full of the most awesome dress up clothes you can fathom. Yet, for reasons unknown to mankind, he has a knack for shunning costumes on Halloween. In the past, we've been all "see what super fun costume we got for you to wear? Wow! Everyone else is dressing up, too! Here, let's get dressed in this super fun costume and go get candy!" And his reply has pretty much been, "that costume sucketh. I won't be seen in it."

So this year, we are trying a new strategy. Instead of pinning our hopes on one costume, we are putting forth a multiple choice offering for the boy. There is the faded Woody pajama outfit that he wore last year, as well as a Buzz pajama set that would be a viable option, and way less faded. There is also a real Buzz Lightyear costume from Disney that was the only real costume we ever bought because I couldn't figure out how to recreate that and make it look cool vs. painted cardboard box tacky, and trust me, we've got our money's worth out of that. Josh wore it when he was 6. (That was 8 years ago.) AND we have push-button-fold-out-wings for Buzz to wear as well that are supah cool in any boy's eyes.

Besides the Toy Story gang, Micah has random shirts and pants that he can pull together to make a baseball player, a football player (complete with nappy Troy Polamalu hair - it actually looks more like Darnell on My Name is Earl than anything else at this point), a generic cowboy, various versions of super heroes, an old lady (he loves wearing the full skirt and old lady mask), a businessman, and a few other things.

And in the interest of presenting something completely new and fun to entice him to wear an actual costume, I pulled together a brand new pirate costume for him after shopping Salvation Army. It cost me $5, and kinda rocks the pirate look if I have to toot my own horn.

But in reality, we have already decided that Micah will most likely go as Micah for Halloween. When he sees everyone dressing up, he'll go for his necktie, pirate hat, man purse, and baseball pants. And he'll demand candy, just being himself. He won't be alone, at least. One of Becky's friends is thinking of going as Micah for Halloween. He said all he'll have to do is throw together a random outfit of colors and patterns, toss on a tie, and put on a healthy dose of confidence.

He's Prepping For His Future

Micah went through a spell this spring where he insisted on wearing a tie to school daily, and preferred button down shirts. On occasion, he'd even carry his Bible case with him everywhere he went. The Bible was an optional feature in the case. Micah has his own style, and we just enjoy it.


As Micah was watching a movie the other day, he ran to get a tie out of the dress up box. And then he got his Bible case to carry back to the TV. And it finally clicked with me what he was dressing up as. He was watching Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium. Micah was dressing like The Mutant (aka, the accountant).

I mean, seriously? An accountant? In that fun, fun movie of people to imitate through flattery, he chooses the stodgy businessman? Micah has half as many hats as the little boy who collects hats, and who wouldn't want to be fun like Mr. Magorium himself?

Micah, that's who. Micah bypasses the fun people and hones in on the boring and uptight. We have been saying for years that Micah is a little old man in a little boy's body, and this just proves us right.

That Couponing Craze

We are generic shoppers. We do not buy brand name soups (except Cambell's tomato), we do not buy Kraft mac & cheese, we do not buy cereal in a box. And for the most part, we do not buy anything simple and easy to fix (like mac & cheese) because buying ingredients and making from scratch is almost always cheaper. It's all in the interest of saving money, because feeding a herd of teenagers will break the bank.

But recently, I have become a coupon addict. I have not reached Coupon Queen status yet, but maybe someday I will crowned such. For now, I dabble in matching coupons with sales, and nearly dance a jig when I can drop my bill by 40% of what it would have been.

Couponing has taught me a few things, like brand names, with a good coupon that's doubled, can be cheaper than generic brands. And that once you start buying brand name things en masse, the cash register will print out more coupons for you to use for more of those brand name things. It's like a savings cycle, and I'm just learning how to ride it.

So now we have brand name things in the house, and cereal that comes in boxes. And because we're feeding a herd of teens (and a few others for good measure) we buy cereal like there's no tomorrow. We look like an episode of Extreme Couponing as we're checking out, but TRUST ME, we're not hoarding that stuff. If you've got kids, you know that an entire box of cereal can (and most likely will) be consumed in one sitting, because Kid A has the biggest bowl ever (just before dinner, and another just after), so Kid B has to have a bowl as well because, "hey! New cereal!" This means that Kid C needs to have some, because everyone else is. And then Kid D figures if they don't get a bowl now, they won't get a bowl at all. Kid E (and any others that are currently at the house) have a bowl shoved at them because one can't eat in front of friends and not share. At this point it's pretty much CEREAL DOWN! CEREAL DOWN! and you just watched $2 disappear before your eyes.

We now also know that Box Tops come on brand name cereals, and this makes Luke very happy. He is the Box Top collector, hitting up grandparents to collect since we did not purchase items that sported Box Tops in the past. We do now, though. And not only do we get Box Tops on boxes (and bags) of things that we buy, but sometimes we get bonus Box Tops printed out at the cash register, up to 150 at a clip. On the first day of school, Luke went in with just over 250 Box Tops. He was so sure he'd be the only kid that collected all summer. He was wrong.

That Girl collected, too. That Girl that's been in his class every year since kindergarten. That Girl that's been in his reading group since they started dividing up in 1st grade. That Girl that's been his rival in academics, and a thorn in his flesh. (Side note: That Girl is the cutest thing you'll ever see, and just as kind and sweet as you'd imagine her to be.) And the kicker is, That Girl brough Box Tops to school on the first day and had the nerve to try to undermine Luke's top spot of Box Top Earner. She had 20 less than he did.

Luke has clawed and scratched his way to the top, and he's determined to keep it. My couponing habit is earning him top honors, but it's not without criticism and conjecture. Luke's classmates have started questioning where we get so many labels, but he has an answer. "My mom just keeps buying stuff!"

There Are Sharks In The Sewing Room

The kids love those National Geographic things. Anything from National Geographic makes them happy. The magazine that comes in the mail are pored over for days. And those full sized 8x11 fold-out sheets featuring different animals (or ecosystems, or plants, or...) are stored away in safe binders to be paged through and ogled over for years to come.

Yes, years. My kids are total geeks that way. They get their love of learning from their mother, I'll fully admit.

It makes me happy when the boys break out the Calvin & Hobbes books, or sit in a corner and read a chapter book, or even go over the National Geographic things they love so much. Learning and reading is always a good pasttime.

I do get confused, however, when I find a bengal tiger page on my bathroom counter. Who put it there? And why?  Does it mean  something, or is that where it was laid when someone had to answer the call of Nature as they were reading? So many questions, but it's par for the course in a home of kids. You find random things everywhere. If you don't, you should probably question why not.

I gave it no more thought, until I stepped into the sewing room and saw a Great White Shark National Geographic page on the table next to my sewing machine. Now I'm really curious. Is someone trying to tell me something? Give me a hint? About a new pet? A Christmas gift? One may never know.

Parenthood is full of all sorts of unanswered questions. Like these underwear that Micah was wearing this morning. I have no answers. None at all.

Concepts & Anticipation

Micah used his Voice to ask to eat at Subway the other morning for breakfast. Because I'm an awesome parent, I laughed, looked him in the eye, and said, "we're not eating at Subway." He then chose to EAT EGG instead. While I was making him an egg, he asked to PLAY BOWLING. And then, to reiterate, he came over to the stove and pretended to bowl. It's a universal sign, perfected by the Wii, and easily understood. Clearly, Micah wanted to bowl. Unfortunately, being a school day, bowling wasn't in the cards and I had to nix that just like I did the Subway suggestion.

My kids are pretty sure I'm the worst mom ever. I've got a reputation to uphold at this point, so I've got a daily NO quota to fill.

On Saturday, however, the Special Olympics was meeting to bowl at 3:30. As I was making Micah his daily egg sandwich, I said, "we're going bowling today, Micah." Things like this are generally not processed and comprehended by my boy. We can tell him "we're going to Grandma's" but it's like it's just words to him. He just doesn't grasp that we're actually doing that. Once we are in the car, and he sees that we are headed in the direction of Grandma's house, he gets excited. It has to be a concrete thing to him. But vague concepts and intangibles (things we can't just hand him to show, like a video or a chocolate bar) aren't always grasped.

Saturday morning, after trying yet again to convey an intangible concept, Micah walked over to his Voice and said PLAY BOWLING. He got it! Micah understood something that wasn't concrete! It was a breakthrough of epic proportions, and I danced a jig inside my head to celebrate. And then spent the next 7 hours saying, "not yet."

It was brutal, those 7 hours of pestering and asking and begging to bowl. Micah packed my purse with socks (because while bowling over summer we wore flip flops to the bowling alley and had to take socks with to wear with the bowling shoes), he put my iPod in my purse, he brought my purse to me. He asked to go bowling. He brought me a change of clothes, he got my shoes, he put my purse in my hands. And this was all within the first 30 minutes. It was a loooooonnnnnnnngggggggg 7 hours, but the awesomeness of the fact that Micah grasped the concept of "we'll be doing this" made it all worthwhile.

Finally - FINALLY - 3:30 came around. I had a few stops in town before we went to bowl, and at every intersection he'd point the way to the bowling alley, then was clearly frustrated by my lack of cooperation when I turned the wrong way. But we finally, finally got there, and Micah was giggling with glee. It was super crowded as we signed in with the Special Olympics, and I got his shoes at the counter. As we were headed to our assigned lane, Micah noticed that I only had 1 pair of shoes in my hand.

This was completely unacceptable. He pointed to my shoes, asking that I bowl with him. "No, I'm not bowling today, Micah." At our lane, Micah realized there were people there that he didn't know. And I wasn't bowling with him. His discomfort was very evident. He started to walk away. I caught up with him, knelt down, looked in his eyes, and said, "Micah, I'm not bowling with you today. You're bowling with these people here. Do you want to stay and bowl, or do you want to go home?" He chose to go home.

The poor, poor boy. All that excitement, all that planning and anticipation, and then he didn't even get to bowl with his family like he thought he would. I got him a video at RedBox to make up for it.