Harry's ballet class in action

Today was the last day of Harry's first fall ballet session (session 2 starts next week), and Harry's teacher invited all the parents in to record the lesson.

Amazingly, Harry was asked to move up to the next age bracket for the next session.

We finally carved some pumpkins

Harry went elbow deep in pumpkin, in fact

Jack was just really into the lids.

In the time it took me to carve one measly face, Ben carved 3.

Harry was Buddy the freaking Elf-- he was THAT excited about carving pumpkins.

Jack, again, was a little more reserved.

I couldn't resist

Seriously, he's a fast carver.

Our little pumpkin family


I was chatting with the boys before bed last night, and I asked them what they wanted to be when they grew up. Harry is holding firm with stay-at-home-dad, and Jack wants to be a police officer, or as he says, "a please." I asked him why he wants to be a police officer, and he said, "I punch da bad guys. Put Harry jail." Okay then, little buddy.

In other random news, today was Jack's first day of school sans Pooh Bear, and it went really well. Harry has his first boy-band infatuation-- he just can't get enough of Big Time Rush on his iPod, which he insists on playing every time we get in the car. Except for this morning on the way to school when I couldn't take it anymore and played the Beatles instead. Harry walked into the building tonelessly bleating "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds," making everyone we passed giggle. Seriously, he was better than a cup of coffee this morning.

Irresponsible or therapeutic?

I am totally copying Sarah and have signed up for NaNoWriMo. That means next month, I am going to write a novel just for the hell of it.

Why yes, yes I do have other things to do.

Why yes, yes I do have other things to write.

But yes, yes I am going to do it anyway.

I don't know if I told you guys this, but I kind of lost my shit for awhile right after I defended my dissertation and got my PhD.

Firs there was the total meltdown about toxic chemicals in my beauty products. Then I thought I smelled smoke all the time and convinced myself I had a brain tumor. There was a particularly bad elevator ride where I got off on nine and made us all walk down some rickety hotel stairs with our stroller and made Ben stay at least a flight ahead of us so he could check and make sure the door to the stairwell opened on each floor, so we could have an escape route.

I saw a really nice therapist and worked through some shit, namely that my anxiety stems from my work. I am scared to write, which explains why I fill my days not writing and feeling really anxious about it. It's a cycle. I have tried yoga and massage and other relaxation techniques, but at some point, I just need to freaking write something.

Enter National Novel Writing Month. I am going to spend November writing fiction everyday-- at least 50,000 words by the end of the month. Not because I think I can write a good novel in 30 days (and how much do real writers hate all the effing jackasses like me who pound out 30 days of crap and call it a novel?) but because I want to remember why I love to write-- the process, the craft, etc. My advisor always told me that what made me a successful grad student was my ability to write total shit, and I have lost that ability. I used to sit down at the computer each day and write-- not because the muse was with me, but because it was my job.

Now I stare at a screen and feel stupid.

Then I eat something.

So, NaNoWriMo? Anyone with me?

Pumpkins Again. Now we Have 13. No Joke.

ETA: (THANK YOU for the recipe ideas in the comments of my last post-- can't wait to cook up something spooky for Harry's class breakfast (that I have to miss because I teach in the morning. ugh).

On Saturday, we met Amy and her adorable family at a pumpkin patch in the middle of nowhere and had so much fun! I would have updated my blog sooner, but I have been face down in the best apple pie I have ever eaten (from the pumpkin patch in the middle of nowhere) pretty much ever since. It has sugar cookie topping, this pie, and crust that tastes like monkey bread. OMG. NOM NOM NOM.
We brought the Unabomber with us.

And his brother, who is clearly much less sulky.

Dude! You guys! On the hayride? Some guy was SMOKING. And no one seemed to care. And at the gift shop? Ben bought 2 different kinds of smoked meat. I freaking love Wisconsin.

Also? These shoes? Are fur lined. Making them the worst choice ever for the rocky dustbowl that was the pumpkin patch. I had to VACCUUM them when I got home. On the insides. Dreamy.

While Amy plopped her 3 photogenic and obedient children in pile of pumpkins for pictures, my kids sat on the edge of the pumpkin pit and beat the crap put of each other. I should have intervened, but instead, I took pictures.
They started out okay, but kind of handsy.

And then...



They cooled off and looked contemplative for awhile


Then we hit up the make-your-own apple buffet (except for Jack-- he went with Ben to the meat shop and got a ghost cookie the size of his head which he licked all over and taunted the other kids with. Nice.


It was a delightful afternoon-- I love it when my kids have fun doing kid stuff and I get to simultaneously have fun with grown ups.

Today, Harry started his drama class. Where he asked the teacher if it was time to leave yet because he was bored. Awesome. And Jack and I started our yoga class. This kid. He is always 2 knuckles deep.
Namaste.

iPhone Pictures: an Ode to Fall

Every year, I fall for fall.

Such promise in the end of blooms, the bewitching rustle of leaves, cold mornings and chilly evening winds that make me want to watch scary movies under a blanket.

Pumpkin spice lattes, personally chosen apples, the anticipation of spending a few months barefoot in my Uggs.

Halloween previews

Afternoon bike rides

Quiet mornings at our favorite park


Borrowing a sweatshirt to combat the playground chill because I told him it was cold but did he listen? No. because he doesn't listen to anything I say ever, no mater how many times I say it. "They" say if your preschooler refuses a coat, you should let them experience the cold so they'll make a better decision next time. But where were "they" when said preschooler took the sweatshirt off my back and left me shivering in my yoga pants and t? Also, that sweatshirt is not so very big on him. Not any bigger than the boys' XS REI fleece he's wearing today, which makes me think I could save a few bucks by buying myself outerwear in the boys' section.

Today, they even let me style their hair with a little product-- a fall fashion miracle.



Speaking of-- check out All Kinds of Pretty! There are some great new posts up, and this week we are launching a Fall Denim Guide!

Okay, I have a favor to ask you. Does anyone have a great recipe for adorable and healthy-ish Halloween treats? I need to bring something to Harry's Halloween breakfast at school, and my working mom guilt demands I make it from scratch and that it looks Halloween-y.

Pumpkins: 2010 Edition

Ben took Harry and Jack to the pumpkin patch while I was at the spa (what kind of a selfish mother goes to the SPA and misses out on family pumpkin patch day?? The one who went to a patch LAST weekend and has plans to go to another one THIS coming weekend. So I missed the trip where they actually selected our pumpkins? Hmmm...I doth protest too much, uh?)
They picked 80 pounds of pumpkin. 80 pounds, 10 pumpkins.

Ben couldn't resist-- they were so happy rolling gourds.

He even took their pictures on this rickety wagon, where we've been sapping pumpkin pictures for 4 years

Speaking of! Let's go down pumpkin memory lane, what do you say?

2006:

2007:

2008:
2009:


Cementing his reputation as BEST FUNNEST PARENT EVER, Ben also took the kids to Petsmart for a teeny aquarium and some teeny fish. Jack's is the yellow one named Bear, and Harry's in the orange one, iCarly.


This morning, Harry woke up asking if his fish were dead yet. I said no, and he said, "Good. Today is not the day." He's so creepy sometimes. Probably just because he's getting into the Halloween spirit.

If you are reading this, I made it.

I survived 60+ hours without Ben and lived to tell the tale. (I know that Amy, whose husband works out of state part of every week, and Sarah, whose husband takes long trips occasionally, and Kate, who was on her own with 3 little kids with an out-of-state husband for months, and Jamie, whose husband is in the army and was deployed when she gave birth to their second son all probably just rolled their eyes so hard their heads hurt).

But seriously, people. I am part of a parenting team, and I am not meant to be a solo act. We're like Siegfried and Roy, and when I am left alone, the TIGERS MAUL THE SHIT OUT OF ME.

Speaking of? Where has Ben been since Wednesday, you might ask? VEGAS. For work? NO.

I started off strong and optimistic when he left. We had a great morning at the gym, and Harry's swim teacher moved him up to the next level (he's a Ray now!). I took the boys to campus to walk around the lake, and we had lunch at the student center cafeteria. They LOVE cafeterias. Nothing is more exciting to them than piling random food on a tray.

Harry chose a yogurt, a yogurt parfait, a yogurt smoothie to drink, and some Cheetos.

Jack was trying to fit in with the college kids and snagged a slice of pizza and a milk.

They both ate cupcakes in their stroller while I sweated my ass off pushing them around the lake.

After that, shit pretty much fell apart. Around 3:00, I was minding my own business cleaning the toilet, and Harry came running into the bathroom sobbing that his ear hurt and he needed to go to the doctor. I was like, "Are you bored or something, dude? I'll play with you." He was all, "Yeah, sure. We can play. AFTER I GO TO THE DOCTOR."

I called our doctor's office, and while I was waiting on a call back from the nurse, Harry slugged Jack in the face, and Jack bit a hole in Harry's finger. The nurse told us to come right in (I love her!), and 20 minutes later, our doctor was giving Harry Tylenol and calling in an amoxicillin prescription.

I thought things had calmed down, but as I was cleaning up dinner, Harry asked to take a shower, and I said, "Nah, let's just do a bath," and he went apeshit crazy and SCREAMED for the next 2 straight hours. Ask Ben-- I called him at the Mirage and made sure he could hear every minute of it, too. (I also might have asked him to come home).

Of course, H didn't sleep at all Wednesday night, and you know where he did all that not-sleeping? Yep. With me.

Thursday, they went to school where Harry (thanks to a birthday pinata of one of his classmates) discovered his love of Silly Bandz.

Friday, we killed a good hour roaming Target and buying a ton of stuff we didn't need. Like all these Silly Bandz. (50. He is wearing 50 on his wrist).

And the ingredients for iCarly's favorite dish, spaghetti tacos.



Which I did not eat because who the hell eats that crap?


We also had a VICP (very important craft project). Harry missed his religious ed. class last week, and all the kids decorated tin cans to gift to classroom visitors this week-- they're supposed to be pencil holders. Jack made one, too, for Ben. The kids take their gluing very seriously.




Beautiful, huh? Almost makes me wish I didn't live in the digital age and still used pencils. Or pens. I just use my fingers. Ha!

It was a rough 60+ hours, but don't worry about me-- I am at the spa enjoying a 2 hour (!!) massage, and a mani/pedi.