Calvin and Hobbes

This may have been my favorite Halloween ever!

• Improv Thriller dance party; the punk has some serious moves!
• Family lunch at Five Guys, where the punk loudly wished the adjacent table full of missionaries a "Happy Halloween, missionaries!" and elicited an "Aaawwwww!" from the sisters, who then shook his hand.
• Soaking in the surprisingly warm sunshine before naps. Last day in the '60s?
• Trick or Treating with the punk's two little buddies. The punk loves his friends, and could the weather have been any nicer?!
• Chili, cornbread, pumpkin chocolate chip bread, and chocolate cake with family.

Rugrats

The punk had recently done his business at the grocery store, in the "unisex" bathroom where I could fit myself and the basher, who was strapped into the obnoxious spaceship grocery cart full of purchased groceries. So I knew that after we read our nap time story, he would just be able to lie down and go to sleep. I left the punk lying cozily in his bed and fed the basher his afternoon meal of mixed grain and squash. Then we retired to the rocking chair for a final thirst quencher and a descent into dreamland. It all sounds so magical, doesn't it?

Well, as the basher was finally dozing and I was about to detach him and place him in his crib, the punk opened the door and smiled, as if to say, "I'm cute. Therefore, I am exempt from punishment." In a whisper, I instructed him to go back to bed, to which he loudly replied, "WHAT?" Luckily, the basher was tired enough that he only fluttered his eyelids, but did not wake up. After I made silent strangling signs, the punk understood. Just kidding. But he did go back to his room. When I tiptoed out of the dozing basher's room, the punk had come out again and was placing his stool by the toilet so he could get to it. He demanded that I let him do everything himself, which takes forever, but okay. It made him happy to accomplish something so magnificent. With his business done, I again led him back to bed.

Finally, a deep breath. I put the groceries away and picked up a few things. I even managed to resist the java chip ice cream I just bought; all I wanted was a minute on the couch and some silence.

Right when I sat down, I heard a door shut loudly upstairs, a shrill, tired cry from the basher, and the punk's footsteps down the hall. Awesome. The basher had slept for 30 minutes and the punk, not at all. Only 3 more days until my man returns home. No, that's too long. Only 5 more hours until bedtime? No, that doesn't work for me either. Only 2 1/2 more hours until my brother comes over to wrestle with my boys and make yummy noises as he eats dinner with us? Yes, I can deal with 2 1/2 hours.

After all, they have their cute moments too:

Let's Hear It For The Girls

Friendship. It's on my mind. Tonight I find myself incredibly grateful for my girlfriends. There was a time in my life when I didn't feel like I needed my girls as much. Namely, during the dating and newlywed phases. All I needed, all I wanted, was my man. I didn't care about chatting with friends I had known all my life when a brand new man was in my arms and on my lips.

But I am now 8 (lovely) years into my (perfect) marriage. (Ha!) The honeymoon is over (just barely) and I have rediscovered how much we women need each other. For support, for inspiration, for ideas. For running, for food, for conversations about boobs. For laughing, for crying (sometimes in the same breath).

I am fortunate to have many different girlfriends who have been in my life for different amounts of time, but who are all important to me. Last week I brought post-surgery dinner to a friend I've had since before Kindergarten. We have always been chums, but there have been times in our lives that have brought us closer than other times. As children, we jumped on the trampoline and had picnics in the front yard and played barbies. Now we talk about kids and husbands and our changed bodies. The kind of longevity that our relationship has is remarkable. I love her and always will.

Yesterday a newer friend delivered some chocolate cake to my house while I was away at a yoga class. (I am kind of, but not really, embarrassed to say that I ate all three pieces before going to bed.) I have known her for only the two years I've lived in her neighborhood, but her presence in my life has taught me so much about friendship and motherhood, photography and running, loving oneself and loving others.

Tonight I had dinner with some friends I've known for 14 years. At the end of the night, I said goodnight to a fellow redhead and was reminded that we will always be there for each other when we both need it. A couple years ago, we were going through similar difficulties with our families. Through our pain, we found comfort in our friendship and even now, we can rely on the honesty, the healing, and the faith that we found together during that time.

Because of my friends, I am stronger, more creative, more giving, more inspired, and more full of chocolate cake than I would have ever been alone.

Tired

I'm tired. I'm tired because I have fallen out of a solid workout schedule. (I'm also tired because the punk thinks getting up at 5:30 am is the right thing to do.) I'm tired so I don't work out. I don't work out, so I'm tired. We've all been there, right? Even though I hadn't run (or exercised at all) in 2 weeks, I joined my friend Brittany in running the Murray Moonlight Run (whose worthy cause is to fight online bullying).

It was a perfect night for a race. Temps in the mid '60s, a nearly full moon... Perfect! I really do love running at night. We all wore glow sticks and glow in the dark body paint. I had jammed two glow sticks in my shoes, which was uncomfortable, but necessary. Necessary because it was awesome. Brit sprinted off the starting line and never looked back, so I ran alone. Just the way I like it most of the time. We both accomplished new PRs (personal records). Brit beat my time by nearly 4 minutes, but we were both happy. And there was pumpkin pie at the finish line!

I got to bed around 11:00, then got up with the basher at midnight. The punk waltzed into my room at 5:30 this morning. I'm tired.

12of12: October (Wednesday)

1. The basher now happily crawls all over the house. The punk thought it would be fun to join him on the floor during breakfast. 2. My great friend Brittany offered to take the punk during the basher's morning nap so I could have a break, as my man has been traveling quite a bit. However, the basher has been taking shortened naps, presumably because he wants to practice his new crawling and standing skills. I was counting on more time to clean, but decided to make the most of his wakefulness and enjoy some one-on-one time with my baby. 3. My man called with some good news: he will be home from his current business trip one day early! (This photo was taken long before I met the guy. Yowza!) 4. I went to retrieve my punk and join Brit and her girlies for a delicious lunch of roasted red pepper soup and grilled cheese. This is my lovely little friend D.

5. The kiddos painted pumpkins from their great-grandpa's garden. 6. This photo is misleading. It shows what I was going to do after I cleaned and before the boys awoke from their afternoon naps. Again, the basher had different plans. No break for me. 7. Although the leaves have turned on the mountain, our yard is still holding on to summer. 8. I am loving my new role as piano teacher. I even paid my babysitter to stay 30 minutes longer so I could practice, uninterrupted.

9. The boys and I went on a short walk in Millcreek Canyon. It turned out to be colder than I had anticipated and the punk wanted to go back to the warm car. 10. But the colors were so beautiful! 11. This gorgeous sunset welcomed us back into the valley. The orange clouds swept the entire sky. 12. My friend and neighbor does a weekly dinner swap with me. I cook for both our families on Mondays. Tonight was her turn to cook: beef and broccoli, garden salad, & pear and raspberry tart. I enjoyed my dinner while watching Modern Family after I put the boys to bed.

Astrological Observations

While on an evening walk, just the two of us, the punk observed, "The moon doesn't have glue. It just sticks [to the sky] by itself."