It' that time of year...

Sewing season! Not that I don't sew anything the rest of the year, but this is definately my "busiest season". And naturally, Andrew's costume includes a challenging coat (as usual), so now that it is out of the way, I can move on to some of the simpler to sew items. Well, until I get to my own. Think I may have bitten off a little more than I can chew. So! Thought I would take a minute to look back at the last couple of years of creations. I only have two Halloweens under my belt, so it's a short look. And I realized that I do not have any good digital photos of last year's of just our costumes. Bummer. And I did not sew the boys skeleton costumes.

A Scary, Friendly Ghost

After dropping Liam off at the bus stop one morning recently, Caleb and I were driving on some errands and he began the game of "Pretend you heard a spooky noise, and you didn't know what it was". So I played along, and in my best frightened voice said, "ooh, I hear a spooky noise, and I don't know what it is". Then he proceeded to make his best "spooky, ghostly sounds" and started talking like a ghost. The conversation when something a little like this (with his best spooky voice throughout the entire thing):

"I'm a spooky ghost."

"A spooky ghost? Oh no! That's so scary!"

"I'm a spooky, friendly ghost"

Me:"Oh, a spooky, friendly ghost like the ones at the Haunted Mansion at Disney World?" (there's been a lot of talk about that ride in our house lately, even though neither of them have been on it)

Pause.

C: "Yes, I am supposed to be at the Haunted Mansion."

Me: "Oh no. What should we do?"

Caleb (still in spooky voice): " You're going to have to take me to Disney World!"

He's definately creative in his arguments for the things he wants. :)

I'm beginning to understand...

Why my mother cried at touching scenes in movies, moving talks in church, and poignant moments in life.

When I was young, and whenever she began to tear up at so many of these things, I found myself looking at her a little strangely and wondering what had made her sad.

Today was a thought, and tear, provoking day. At church there were some wonderful talks given by an amazing couple who had been through some heart wrenching things, and their testimony of the power of the Priesthood blessing their lives was so powerful, I cried. Then I let myself get my feelings hurt about some silly thing or another, got frustrated with my son's disrespectful treatment of me, and I cried. I arrived home from church to find the neighbors dog emptying his bowels on my front lawn (the mystery of the multiple deposits left over the last few weeks was solved), and I was so angry I thought about hitting him with my car (of course, I didn't), then came inside the house and cried.

The boys have never scene the Wizard of Oz and on the way home from church today, Caleb kept asking for "the Dorothy story". Once I had finally figured out what they meant, and they had determined that we had the "real movie of it", they wanted to see it. So, following my meltdown over the animal control issue, I put the movie on and we watched it, Caleb snuggled close at my side. And I cried...multiple times. As I stifled a sob toward the end of the film, Caleb, who felt the sharp intake of my breath, turned and looked at me. And I saw in his eyes the same question I had as a child looking at my own crying mother. I smiled through my tears and said how much I loved the movie, but I knew he didn't understand. And that maybe someday he might.

I get it now, Mom. And when I say that I am turning into my mother, I can't think of a better person to become.