Happy Halloween!

Wish I had a spooky story to go with these, but I don't. Make up your own.

*Photos courtesy of John

Mummy love

Last month I felt super ambitious and confident that I could make a costume for John this Halloween.

Last week that ambition and confidence waned, but I was committed. As I was soaking, cutting and imagining the finished product, my confidence returned. This would be a piece of cake. I mean, how hard is it to make a mummy when my friend Sara was busily sewing Little Red Riding Hood?

I'll tell you how hard. HARD. Especially if you don't have the meticulous patience of a perfectionist. I eventually started slapping cheesecloth together and abandoned the needle and thread all together. That's right, the look was accomplished with spray-on adhesive, Spra-ment if you will.

I was afraid the finished product was going to be a shotty toilet paper-esque swamp thing. BUT... with a little blood and make-up, and here's the secret-- cheesecloth falling off everywhere-- the final product looked kind of cool.

Someone won Best Overall Costume at the ward Trunk-or-Treat!

Someone else did not.

Means to an end.

I am posting this because I am soooo tired of looking at those awful pictures from the last entry. Unfortunately, my house doesn't look much better, in fact it's worse. BUT, I did have a day or two of semi-cleanliness between this post and the last one.

This time I have an excuse, I think they call it the swine flu. Just kidding, I think it's just a bad cold. Either way, my two favorite kids were left to their own devices for most of the day yesterday and you can just imagine the havoc that ensued, and now remains.

Oh yeah, and by the way, when someone posts some horrendous pictures the only polite thing to do is comment about it. As much as I might pretend they don't, your comments give me a much needed boost. They bring a little smile to my face and help me know that I am not alone in this world. If you happen to be one of three who like to comment, you know who you are and will know to disregard this rant. But to the rest of you-- I will try to comment for you if you will comment for me.

Balance

Bogda was on a rant again the other day. Our elementary school is in the process of obtaining IB Certification. If you are unfamiliar with the IB programme (yes, they spell it that way because that makes it more exotic) you can get no real information about it here. From what I can gather the programme (doesn't it look sophisticated?) focuses on analytical thinking and using our experiences to learn about the world and then somehow kids learn how to read, write, and do math (aka CORE curriculum) along the way.

Bogda's second grader has started a new IB Planner (aka "unit") in which the concept of "balance" is explored. The importance of balance in one's life will be examined through learning about a balanced diet, literal balance in science, and balance in our personal lives. Her homework has entailed bringing in an "artifact" of what balance means to her (no math, no reading, no writing). This week her homework is to record her healthy food choices and exercise for a week.

Bogda is up in arms. She is refusing to let her daughter do the diet homework because "what are they going to want to know next, the last time I went to the toilet?"

The concept of a balanced life is foriegn to my foriegn neighbor. It is obviously a concept I am not familiar with either. When my life is out of balance the first thing sacrificed is housework. So I took a few pictures to illustrate that balance is essential to a happy life. I hope you enjoy looking at them as much as I love living in it!

Scheduling conflict

"John, I am NOT going to fight about that with you right now."

"Ok. I'll fight with you about it later. I won't forget."

Hittin' the Hard Stuff

Jared answered a call from the school today. Apparently John brought an empty bottle of vodka into class this morning. When confronted he said that yes, it was his and, yes, he did drink it. I guess the teacher freaked out a little.

Jared explained that we don't have vodka at home and that he was 100% certain that John did NOT ingest anything close to it.

When Jared finished his conversation with the teacher he came and told me. Of course I knew exactly what it was about.

Yesterday on the walk home from school John found a small EMPTY bottle of vodka in the gutter. It was the tiny bottle kind that you get on a plane trip or from the minibar in your hotel room. I told him to throw it away, but he insisted that he wanted it to add to his "poison" bottle collection for his Halloween decorations. After a few minutes I had forgotten about the bottle and he had placed it in his backpack.

I asked him about the incident this evening.

"It was in my backpack so I got it out with everything else."

"What did you do with it?"

"I put it on my desk of course. And I am still mad because they never gave it back."

A Little Belt Tightening

So we are tightening our belts around here.

Oh how I wish that was literal... wouldn't it be great to tighten your belt for real?

But I digress, we are trying to save a little and make what we have go further. And guess what? It's not easy. Mostly because of my habits and ideas of what makes something special.

In short, something qualifies as special if it came from some place other than my home. Here are some examples:

Dr. Pepper- special if it comes from Sonic or a gas station fountain, boring if it comes from a can in my fridge.

Ice cream- special if it comes from Dairy Queen, McDonalds, or Chick-fil-a, boring if you have to scoop it from your freezer.

Tuna Sandwich- special from Subway, boring from my kitchen.

Low quality T-shirt- special from Target, boring from last year's wardrobe.

Jeans- I just want some that fit and are comfortable, I don't care where they come from.

The lesson I've learned?

My kids don't care if the ice cream comes from DQ, they just want ice cream. Dare I say it was MORE special having it at home?

My kids would rather have two hours of uninterrupted play time with me than any toy from Target (and can I tell you that I am embarrassed to say that was really difficult? But the joy it brought to Kitty while John and Jared went shooting was priceless).

So... it's not my kids who are making me spend needless money, once again this is my problem.