Of Joey's New Favorite Celebration

In case you didn't know, last week was Halloween. Having grown up trick-or-treating (yes, I was the teenager knocking on doors through high school with the ever-ready response to the obvious question, "You're never too old for free candy" - and I still stick by that, though I don't carry my own bucket, sadly) with a husband who had never trick-or-treated in his life (apparently the children of preachers and missionaries only celebrate Halloween if it's called "Fall" and it's done at the church - because that's when costumes and candy become holy) we have often debated on how to pass this inevitable evening. And we've taken varied approaches each year.

This year after celebrating at the church's fall festival Sunday night, and spooking the dorm of the local university Tuesday night, I wondered what we would actually do on Halloween night. Because I'm too stingy to pour out money on candy to give to other children (though our daughter does love answering the door, so maybe I should have taken that into consideration) and it's hard to just sit by and miss out on what others are doing.

So I convinced my holy husband to allow our children to haunt the street - just our one little street - for the night.

The kids had no idea what they were in for. Especially Emmett, who continued to whine at the plan, "I don't want to walk up and down our street!" Trust me, kid, I thought, you're gonna love it.

And he did. As we meandered home with full buckets at the slowed pace evoked by an hour or so of knocking and walking, I asked him, "Are you glad we walked up and down the street?" "Yeah."

But the biggest fan of the evening was little Joey. After our two previous costumed bag/bucket carrying events earlier in the week, he knew what was coming. I dress funny, I carry this and people give me candy. He was so ready.

Our Little Lumberjack

It took about two houses before he had the routine and he would wiggle himself out of our arms, dash to the door on which sissy had already politely tapped (shy Emmett always hanging behind the others just a little) and bang his little fist. Mommy would then have to pull him back so the poor candy-giver inside could even open the door and then, if it was in reach, that tiny fist was in the candy bowl, no questions asked.  Sometimes he hollered a courtesy "Or-teet" - which was about all he could muster of the famous phrase - before diving in. Sometimes the occupant was a little more cautious (understandably so) with the loot and would simply hand him a bar or two of chocolately goodness, which he would grasp and then stare as he waited for more. Then, after giving the obligatory, "Tank oo", he would drop it in the bucket hanging from his arm and turn, running, ready for the next stop.

And that little guy raced up and down our street - seriously, those little legs pounded the pavement for a full half-mile without wearing down.

Yeah, I'd say he's discovered his new favorite holiday. Then again, I doubt he remembers last December, so I'm pretty sure he has an even bigger surprise in store.

Happy Fall from our Crazy Crew!

Of the Costume Conundrum

I kind of maybe really enjoy coming up with fun Halloween costumes.  Not since the days of plastic smocks and cracking masks have I ever longed to simply purchase a costume.  The fun for me is in the creativity.  So, when Micaiah told me what she wanted to be this year, I was kind of excited about the prospect for a family costume.

True, I might have thrown together the details at the last minute, but it's because I knew we had what we needed.  Re-purposing our own clothing to create the perfect ensemble?  Priceless.

Problem?  Apparently no one knew what we were going for.  Do you?

Tromping around our church's Fall Festival on Sunday evening, beaming with pride at my old swimsuit made new as Mama Bear's dress, my spirits fell when we began hearing guesses.  Dogs?  Mice?  Farm animals?

Clearly my creative spin was not quite as clever as I had envisioned - even the well-read among us missed the Bear Family references*.

Micaiah, of course, was all too happy to remind them, "I'm a Berenstain-Berenstain Bear!" (she always says it twice and it always sounds a little more like "Bouncy, bouncy bears"), but I was taken back to my high school days (my theory was we're never too old for free candy - apparently others don't feel the same way), my face painted entirely in blue, with blue turtleneck, white skirt and white gloves and only the one inebriated door-opener who called me for what I was, "Hey, look!  A smurf!"

Really?  Am I so bad at costuming that one has to be under the influence to recognize my work?

Apparently so.

Oh well.

At the very least, Micaiah was thrilled to wander around, collecting her sugar, declaring to the world that she was Sister Bear and her parents were Mama and Papa Bear.  And that's all that really matters.

Joey, by the way, was the male version of the littlest Berenstain Bear: Honey.

*To be fair, nearly everyone who was told immediately recognized us and announced, "Of course - now it makes sense!"  I was more sad that it wasn't more obvious without a caption.

1,000 Gifts:
994. A pocket of electricity for loved ones
995. Warm days and cool nights - fall is here
996. The full moon behind hazy clouds
997. The light of the moon, orangey as it rises
998. Our children, discovering for the first time the changing colors of the "waterfall" - the wonder of the Fountain for a new generation
999. Paper airplanes - the simple joy of every day
1000. "God, I love you. . . I just told him." - Micaiah's response to being told we obey to show Him we love Him - evidence of a child-like faith
1001. Emmett's constant declaration: "A spaceman's got to do what a spaceman's got to do!" - such assertiveness from our shy one