Happy Halloween

So that's where M got that hickey!

PumpkinOops

We got the pumpkin home and began the carving process. This started in the back yard, where M and A washed the pumpkin with the garden hose (A's favorite backyard toy). Then it lived on our hearth while J cut various eyes, nose, and mouth shapes out of black paper for A to choose. It was sort of like visiting an optician -- "Do you like the triangle eyes, or the spiral eyes?" A wasn't sure about the eyes, but the mouth needed to be a frowning one.

We divided the actual carving into two days to make it more managable. On the first day the pumpkin got a lid and the insides were taken out. We made A wait on the sofa (mostly) while the knives were being brandished, but he really wanted to help with the goop.

On the second night -- we watched "It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown." Once we got post-dinner videos out of the way, M asked A, "What should we carve on the pumpkin?" A thought about it for a moment, then said, "AlphaOops!" (AlphaOoops is one of his favorite books and he has a signed edition from Alethea Kontis.) We asked him again, but it was clear that he wanted us to carve a mixed up jumble of letters on the pumpkin.


So we took turns. No, A didn't get to use a knife.

Corn and Pumpkins

Today we went with our friends to the Corn Maze. JW, KW, and MW were able to make it, but Bubba wasn't. It was too bad because we actually got really lost this time (and somebody said the maze looked simple this year).

M made special shirts for this year's corn maze, so we matched. This year's theme was rats! I think I only sang the Metallica song once. At one point in the maze, when it looked like we might actually solve it, M managed to make up a song called "Down With People" that was pretty funny.

After the Corn Maze, we said goodbye to the W Women and went to the Pumpkin Patch! Don't let this photo fool you, the Pumpkin Patch was about two miles away from the corn maze and we had to walk. OK. We didn't have to walk; we could have taken a horse and cart ride, but we were too cheap to pay. And it was a nice day.

Once we got to the Pumpking Patch, there were pumpkins everywhere. I won't include the photos I took of some of the nastier pumpkins that had gotten chomped on by some wild animal and left to rot. There was one that looked like a beached whale next to an abandoned baby's sock.

We decided that we wanted to get a traditional looking pumpkin -- so that cut out the ones that were cylinders, or green, or white, or too Cinderella-coach like. A wanted one with a good stem. We wandered around finding different candidates and taking them back to our wheelbarrow.

I kept finding ones that I thought would be nice and they kept getting vetoed as too big. I suppose that it makes sense not to have something hanging around the house that outweighs your child. We also agreed to get just one pumpkin instead of a bunch of smaller ones, although it will be fun in a few years when we can get one for each of us to carve.

A enjoyed himself a lot. He did start to lose interest in the pumpkins in favor of the many fascinating rocks and dirtclods lying around. And he also figured out when I was too busy taking photos to intervene in some puddle stomping.

By the time we had been in the patch for about twenty minutes we had found five likely candidates. We kept asking A which one he liked, but by this time he was much more interested in other pumpkin hunters (and rocks) to make such a complicated choice. We cut it down to two, and that was still a little too much for him (and by this time it was about two hours past his usual nap).

Finally M asked him if he cared which one we took home and he said he didn't. So we chose one that looked more head-like (and had a more interesting shape). We tried to get A to walk with us, but by now the puddles and stray flowers and pretty much anything were much more distracting and interesting than heading two miles back to the cashiers' lines.

So we plunked him in the wheelbarrow behind the pumpkin. I think he would have fallen asleep except the horse-drawn cart passed us.

A Day at the MET

We visited Grandma and Grandpa Thursday.

The big ritual is making pizza with Grandpa. However, I think using the air popper to make popcorn with Grandma is a very close second. Of couse at the end of the day, we had to watch the tail end of The Magic Flute

Mr. Rodger's Food Channel

OK. This is about eighteen minutes long. I figure if you like something that is "Mister Rodgers meets Rachel Ray" then you'll like this. Or maybe it's "Mister Rodgers meets The Barefoot Contessa." I'm the disembodied voice reminding people to use their manners and unplugging mixers until their ready to use.

Marvel the Mustang Rides Again

Do you know how long my folks have been waiting for this moment?

When A asked what the little rods (where his feet are supposed to go) were, I said that Marvel had broken his ankles and the doctors hadn't taken the pins holding his feet together out yet.

Both my parents groaned in osteopathic sympathy.

Gross Stories

Well, I hadn't seen this before, but M had...

So, yesterday, A said he was hungry and I found some strawberry yogurt for him. He ate most of it in about five minutes. Then he took the tiny orange plastic baby spoon and shoved it into the back of his throat. He's discovered his gag reflex, you see. The result was textbook and reminded me of the best way to get a drink out of a Vogon. Then he did it again. And again. Yes. Partially digested strawberry yogurt. All over him and all over his highchair.

M thinks A likes either the taste or the sensation.

I had to leave the room.

All I Want for Christmas...

This evening I went to a lecture on campus and A came with me.

There was some sort of scavenger hunt going on, and there were balloons next to the campus museum. Of course, A ran over to them and began malling one of the less-than-bouant balloons hanging on the display. After a little prompting, A explained to highly amused undergraduates that helium went into the balloon's belly-button and that would make it go up into the sky.

He went on to say (along with some other things) that he would fix the balloon by taking it home and sticking it on a helium tank. When I pointed out that he didn't own a helium tank, he responded with a request for one for Christmas.

Gee, and it's not even Halloween, yet.

Yes, Magic Helmet. . .

Yesterday, A and I were driving along listening to the radio when Beethoven's pastoral symphony came on. We listened and then during the storm movement, I said, "Hey A, do you hear the lightning in the music?" And he said, "It sounds like 'Spear and Magic Helmet.'"

I just about had to pull over. "Spear and Magic Helmet" is from "What's Opera, Doc?", and A had just compared Beethoven to Wagner.

Granted, he's compared a French coffee press to an elevator recently... but still.

Intrepid Back-Napper

A and I went to the woods so M could do some housework. A would like to help, except that most of the work we're doing involves toxic chemicals and really tall ladders. I probably planned our trip for a bad time, as A was more interested in being carried and having a nap than in wandering around through meadows and groves. Oh well, he cheered up when we stopped (after a grueling five minutes) for a snack.

Backhoes and Pizza

There are construction machines near our house, so almost every day we go to see "The Diggers." The construction is near a local market, so we almost always follow up our Adventures in Construction with a trip to a candle store. Or to the produce section for a banana to eat -- which we do in the grociery store's lounge (TV and fireplace). I suppose that I should be slightly worried that A can say "Barefoot Contessa", except that we don't have a TV at home.

A's brand new best friend is a small pumpkin. M was a little upset with me for not having video tape of A saying "A sleep with Pumpkin. Pumpin A's friend." (This was before the sharp pumpkin stem incident). A is also interested in assigning people gender by stating weather or not they have a penis -- he doesn't always get it right, and I'm not sure if he's misassigning gender on purpose, or if certian archaeologists have become the butt of a two-year-old's jokes.

Yesterday we went and visited J's folks. Probably the two big events were making pizza with Grandpa and playing at their church's playground. OK, and A asked to see their copy of The Magic Flute, which pleased dad. I'm still not sure which one of them enjoys playing with toy trains more (and neither is my mom).

You Are Getting Sleepy...

A has a minor cold. And he's been waking up at 6 AM for the last few days. Cranky. Then happy. Then cranky. Then happy.

And not sleepy.

Thank the goddess for Dr Hawass and National Geographic DVD's of Egyptian Archeology. After about five or ten minutes in the Land of the Pharaohs I'm entertained and he's asleep.