Reason to hope

For the last four months, our yard has looked something like this:

Beautiful, right?

And it is, really. 

Or was, until we seemed to get stuck in an endless cycle of snow followed by arctic temperatures, a minor reprieve, and more snow, and more cold.

Thankfully, we have sloooooowly started to thaw. More grass is now visible than snow, and even though it's the ugly grass of early spring--sort of a grey-brown color that is but a shadow of the vibrant green of summer--the fact that we can see it at all is reason to celebrate.

On Monday, when the temperature finally got above 50 (thank you, God, and hallelujah amen), I decided to venture out to see if any of my daffodils had braved the thawing ground. In my head, I was half hoping that they had miraculously sprouted from the ground and were in full bloom, like they were last April (apparently I expected them to skip ahead a month while they were at it...but what is hope, after all, if not optimistic?)

I was hoping to see this:

 No such luck.

But I did find something encouraging, something to keep me hoping for the warmer days where we can spend evenings outside, where I can clean out the flower beds that were woefully neglected last fall when it got cold like whoa fast, where the sun that brightens the day a little longer also finally feels warm.

I present to you, the hope of March:

Grow, babies, grow!!

And something else gave me hope today, too:

Someone was feeling sooooo much better today. She laughed and bounced and ate mostly junk, and I couldn't care less because it is just so nice to see her smile.

Sweet baby and sweet flowers. And lots of reason to hope.

The Worst First

I had looked forward to Monday for weeks. Or, at least 10 days, when I saw the forecast for sunny, above average temperatures. To celebrate, I declared that Monday would be the "First Dairy Queen of the Season". I announced it to family, to co-workers, and that morning, to the girls. And so, even though the day was decidedly less sunny than advertised, and a little bit cooler, we piled into the car and headed into town after dinner Monday night.



It was just as lovely as I had imagined.



Both girls had a strawberry sundae (this born out of Elaina's request for "pink ice cream"), and Josh and I split a Georgia Mud Fudge blizzard. The girls had such fun, and it was everything I had hoped it would be, even the drive down to the river, where we often go to eat our Dairy Queen in the summer. The river itself was chunks of ice, and more snow was in the forecast, but snow and ice be damned--we got our Dairy Queen.

The rest of the evening passed without excitment. We walked around the yard when we got home to see if any more brave bulbs had started to make an appearance (yay, tulips, for giving me hope of spring!), and then the girls took baths and went to bed, and Josh and I spent the evening watching Talking Dead, reading, and relaxing.

And then, around 10:30, I heard a cough from the girls' room. When I got there, Ellie was half-standing, half-crying. An unfortunate reminder of her evening treat was on her pillow, on her jammies, and on the care bear she had been hugging in her sleep. I picked her up, cleaned her and changed her, and got her settled back into bed. Ten minutes later, she was sick again.

The rest of the night was long. Poor baby was sick every hour, almost to the minute, until around 8:00 yesterday morning, when she was finally so exhausted she fell asleep in my arms.

Her day ebbed and flowed, and she was most content to lay on the couch and either nap or watch cartoons. She cried relentlessly for water, but any time she got more than a few sips, it came right back up. Around 3:30, she fell asleep again, and when we roused her an hour later, she was burning up.

I called Mom, who recommended I call the after-hours nurse hotline. Because she had had so little fluid throughout the day, and because she hadn't been wet and was now listless, feverish, and not easily roused, the nurse recommended that we bring her in to the emergency room. So around 5:45, I loaded her up and off we went.

Definitely the worst first of parenthood so far.

For Ellie, most of her first trip to the emergency room was spent asleep. She drifted off while we waited to be called to a triage room. After triage, where it's safe to say getting her temperature taken rectally was a wakeup call she did not appreciate, we were put back in a private room, and she promptly fell asleep again. She slept until I had to put her in a hospital gown, and right then I decided few things are more pathetic than a baby in a hospital gown, especially when it's clear how pathetic she felt.

She slept through the first nurses' visit, and through the first doctor's examination. He was concerned that her heartrate was high for her state (asleep), and, after waiting forever for him to come back, he said they'd give her an anti-nausea medication and see how she'd tolerate water. Which would have been fine, if she would have stayed awake long enough to drink anything.


She slept, and I waited and texted family with updates. And ate the cherry poptart I'd thrown in my purse for "dinner". And waited. And watched Chopped, once the nurse showed me how to turn on the television. And stared at my sweet baby and wondered what it would take to make her better. And waited, and waited, and waited.

Dr. S. finally came back. He sat next to Ellie and held her little hand in his, and said, "Well, Mom, what would you think of putting in an i.v. to make sure she's getting her fluids?" And as much as I hated the thought of that experience, I looked at him and said, "If that's what we have to do to make her better, let's do it." As he got up to leave, he hesitated and said he'd check with the senior doctor, that maybe since her diaper had been wet when we arrived, she wouldn't need an i.v.

And so I waited again.

Dr. S. came back and said the wet diaper had saved Ellie from the i.v., but he was still concerned that her heartrate was elevated and that she hadn't woken up really at all since we'd arrived. He asked what she had eaten that day (nothing, really, except for a couple oyster crackers), and when she'd eaten last, and then decided to take her blood sugar. When the nurse came in with the meter, I stroked Ellie's hair and told her I was glad she was sleeping so she wouldn't know what was coming. Dr. S. looked me in the eye and said, "Okay, if she doesn't flinch when we do this, we're putting the i.v. in." So as they prepped her finger, I thought, "Flinch, baby, flinch!" And thankfully, she did. Her blood sugar was 62, but the stick to the finger roused her enough to get to pick out her own juice. She drank some apple juice and ate a couple teddy grahams (and fed me one or two too). And then we waited a while more, and she fell back asleep, and then we got to go home.

We got to the hospital around 6:00 and left right before 11:00. As we were walking out, I noticed the emergency room waiting room was full. I was thankful we had come when we did, that Ellie had gotten the care that she did, and mostly, that we got to go home.

Today was markedly better than yesterday. Ellie came out to see Josh while he got ready for work, and when he and Elaina left, we fell back asleep until close to 9:00. When we got up, she smiled and chatted and seemed so much more herself. Ellie asked me to dance the Hot Dog dance with her at the end of Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. She drank juice and held it down, and ate a couple goldfish crackers and two tiiiiiiiiny bites of jello. In the afternoon, we watched The Aristocats, for which she provided a complete running commentary until her little body had had enough and she fell asleep again.

Like yesterday, she succumbed to a slight fever after her nap, and took another when Josh got home. As she began to wake up, we started talking about our plans for the evening, and whether I would just stay home with her while Josh and Elaina went to the store and to the library. I said, "I'll stay here," to which a half-awake Ellie protested, "No, I don't wanna stay!"

So, we went.

She seemed to be doing better tonight. Ate a tiny bit for supper. And enjoyed part of an orange popsicle when we got home.

The last two days have been the worst first of parenthood so far.

But I am hopeful the days will only get better from here.

Catching up

Over winter break, Josh and I found out that we'd finally be able to come out of the dark ages where Internet service is concerned because Frontier actually services our area. They came out, installed a box on our house, and told us they'd put a work order in to have a line run under the road to our new box. Bottabing, bottaboom, Internet.

That was, of course, right before the Endless Cycle of Snow and Polar Vortex began.

So needless to say, no we are still stuck with only being able to hotspot at home.

I've still been diligently taking pictures every day for Project Life, but I'm not posting them until it is cost-effective to do so on a weekly basis. This week's highs are in the teens to mid-20s, so maybe...eventually...like in May, I'll be able to post them. Until then, here are few highlights :)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

2013: Looking Back

I wanted to take a look back at 2013, so I used some questions from the Voss's blog as a guide to remember the highs and lows. Here are a few reflections on this past year.

What was one goal you accomplished in 2013?
I started running, and I stuck with it. I haven't exercised regularly really ever, minus a short stint when Josh and I lived in Rockford, and I have always maintained a strong and unabating hatred for running. I hated the burn in my side, I hated the three hours of coughing that followed every time I tried, and I hated how easy people made it look. And then, around the end of May, I decided that I was going to give running one last go. I needed to do something to feel better about myself physically, and I figured if I could keep with running (which I hated), maybe I could change for the better in ways I didn't think were possible. So I laced up my 10-year old Nikes and strapped my phone to my arm and set out to see where my legs could take me. A new pair of tennis shoes are in my closet, and we now have a treadmill upstairs. I've run nearly every week since the beginning of June. I can run more than 2 miles without stopping. And I don't hate it anymore. Mission accomplished.

What is your favorite memory of 2013?
This fall we had a couple errands to run in Peoria, and as we were driving through the city, Journey's song "Don't Stop Believin'" came on the radio. We rolled the windows down, cranked up the radio to ridiculous levels, and taught the girls to sing their best Steve Perry's while raising a finger. It was a beautiful, simple moment, and so much fun.

What is your least favorite memory of 2013?
Losing Grampa.

What was the best trip you took in 2013?
For our anniversary this year, Josh and I drove up to the mall in Naperville and spent the day shopping and reminscing about our beginnings. Then we took the "long" way home, through Dekalb, so we could eat at Bea's Wok-n-Roll on the way home. It was just as delicious as when we ate there as poor grad students, and I savored even the leftovers the next day. It wasn't an exotic trip, and it wasn't a far trip, but it was much-coveted time together, with no obligations except to one another. Maybe in 2014 we'll be able to go somewhere further, or somewhere overnight, but for this year a trip that doubled as a trip down memory lane was definitely the best.

What was your favorite purchase in 2013?
Probably the Traverse. Our Pontiac was showing its age, it was something of a gas hog, and it took forever to heat up in the winter. So when we traded it in for the Traverse, which has room for storage, gets good gas mileage, and has heated seats (!!!), I was pretty excited. A close second would probably be a new lens for the Canon. I can't wait to see what pictures I'll get from it next year.

What was the best book you read in 2013?
Running with the Demon by Terry Brooks. It is one of Josh's favorite novels, and he's been pestering me for years to read it. I finally gave in this summer, and it did not disappoint. The story was captivating, the pace was great, and the payoff at the end was immensely satisfying. I finished it on my birthday, taking it with me in the car on the way to church and spending every free moment we got home trying to finish it before leaving for an engagement party for Josh's cousin. Josh earned his "told-you-so" on that book.

What were you proudest of this year?
Leaving a toxic relationship and taking time to heal before pursuing another. In May, Josh and I left the church we'd been attending for almost a year and a half. It was a simultaneoulsy easy and difficult decision to make. Easy because we knew it was the right one. Difficult because we thought we had found a "home," because the signs had been growing week after week and it had taken so long to admit that the harm being done was as great as it was, for myself as well as for Josh. We didn't want it to be as it was, but it was. And when the straw broke the camel's back, we left, too, brokenhearted. We didn't go to another church for four weeks. We couldn't. I couldn't. I couldn't face the possibility of walking into what we had just left. We took time. And when we ventured out into the search for a new church, a sweet friend who loves us and our girls extended an invitation. It turns out her invitation is the only one we've needed.

What changed about in you in 2013?
I started to recognize some serious shortcomings in myself, and I started working to improve them. Running was part of that. My approach as a wife and a parent have been a part of that, too. I still have a lot of work to do, but I am doing something. And that, itself, is something.

What made you cry in 2013?
Losing Grampa. Recognizing how much growing I have to do as a wife and a mother. Deciding to leave our old church.

What is one home project you accomplished in 2013?
I did a little decorating, but by and large the biggest and best home project was all of Josh's work in the yard. He created a beautiful gravel pathway for our berry garden, built 10 boxes for next year's square foot garden (as well as a trellis for some clematis), and built a sandbox playhouse for the girls. It was a lot of work, and he did a great job. Our yard is really something to be proud of--not bad considering four short years ago it was a lot covered with scraggly trees and overgrown underbrush. I can't wait to see what he does next year.

Best meal of 2013?
The crispy herbed chicken sandwich and handcut fries from the Publik House, followed by an iced mocha from 3030 coffee. I will order that meal every single time we go, and I will never regret it.

What made you want to scream in 2013?
In August we went through a really rough transition with Ellie. She screamed and screamed in her crib, and we had no idea why. We were so beyond frustrated, and I didn't know how to fix it. I hated feeling so inept, but more than that I hated that she was screaming and I didn't know what to do. Finally, one night Josh went in and calmed her down enough to have a conversation with her. And it was then he learned her screams were born out of fear: she was afraid of the dark. One of the most frustrating moments, though, became one of my proudest. I watched Josh approach her with the patience I didn't have, and soothe out of her the answer to the why, which I had not been able to do. I watched Elaina, not yet even four, take her sister's hand and try her best to comfort her. She offered her "mama bug", she gave up a nightlight, and finally, she offered to share her bed with her sister. Elaina and Ellie have been sleeping in the same bed ever since.

What was your verse of 2013?

Psalm 90:12 - "Teach us to number our days, that we might gain a heart of wisdom." I think that might be "my verse" for the rest of my life.

A Day in the Life

I've been seeing "Day in the Life" posts floating around some of the blogs I frequent, and it seemed like a fun idea to remember what typical life looks like. I decided to document yesterday, since it was the last "typical" day of the year, and since tomorrow is my last day of the year (Praise the Lord for holiday shutdown and leftover vacation days!). So here goes!

5:19 a.m. - My internal alarm clock has an annoying habit of waking me up about 20 minutes before my alarm goes off, and today is no exception. Though I tried to fall back asleep, it didn't really matter because...

5:26 a.m. - Ellie cries out for me, so I get up and bring her back to our room for some cuddles. This happens a couple times a week--usually we are met with the pitterpatter of little feet and Elaina climbs up on Josh's side of the bed and Ellie stands at mine with upstretched arms. This morning I enjoy the cuddles and hope to get her back to sleep before my alarm goes off. Before I know it, she is breathing peacefully beside me.

5:45 - Alarm goes off. Up and at 'em!

6:00-6:20 - The morning routine commences. I pack our lunch bags (today there is less to pack, because lunch is out!), which always includes a piece of fruit for the morning and some half and half for our coffees. Then I get dressed and make sure the diaper bag is packed. 

Elaina comes bounding out of her room and happily joins me as I "put my face on" and brush my teeth. (Confession: I have been known to put my makeup on in the car on the way to my mother-in-law's, but I had to stop when the sun was still down when we left.)

(yes, that is a bandaid on her forehead....long story)

Soon, Ellie is awake. I change her diaper while Josh loads up the car, and then we put on coats and head out the door.

6:40 - Arrive at my mother-in-law's to drop off the girls. We usually chat for a few minutes and leave as Rita is discussing with the girls what they will have for breakfast. Inevitably, Ellie will request Lucky Charms.

7:00 - Arrive at my desk after the five minute walk from the parking lot. If only I were joking about that, too. This picture was taken at one end of the hall, near my desk. The teeny, tiny light at the center is the door I come through.

7:00-9:00 - Check my email, start on my to-do list, and listen to Bob and Tom. This morning I have breakfast at my desk, too, since I accidentally bought extra neufachetal cheese and had to get some bagel this so as not to waste it. (Side note: whoever created bagel thins may be a personal hero of mine. I am fairly certain a small addiction to everything bagels contributed to some extra poundage earlier this year...and the thins are only 110 calories!). 

9:00 - Time for coffee! I like to pack a chocolate to have with my coffee, but today I get a chocolate bolt from one of Josh's suppliers. Yummy!

10:00 - I step away from my desk for a couple of minutes to call Rita and talk to the girls. I've done this for so long that I don't really remember not doing it. It started when I went back to work after Elaina was born--I would call on my way to the Mother's Room (yet another five plus minute walk from my desk) to see how she was. When Elaina got older, she went through some pretty significant separation anxiety, and then Ellie came, and now...well, honestly, it's one part of the day I really look forward to. I love chatting with Rita and hearing the girls' little voices on the other end of the line.

11:00 - Josh's group invited me out to lunch. We go to Sugar, where I have the Cubano Nuevo (deeeeelish). While we are eating, I notice the sun has finally come out, so I snap a picture of the sky.

12:30 p.m. -3:30 - Back to work. Knowing I have so little time left to get certain things off my plate, it is a busy afternoon. I nearly have a George Constanza moment and briefly consider banging my head on my desk but power through and survive the rest of the day.

3:50 - Arrive back at Rita's to pick up the girls. This is the scene that greets us.

Why hello, girls! So good to see you, too!

We chat for awhile and hear about the girls' days, which were equal parts good and not so good, due to circumstances out of Rita's control. Thankfully, she made them feel extra-special to make up for the bad, and they seem no worse for the wear :)

4:30 - Home again! Josh entertains the girls while I get dinner around. Tonight we are having breakfast for dinner--pancakes and bacon. Elaina helps for a bit and then retreats off to find her Elf on the Shelf (Lyla) and to watch the Winnie the Pooh Christmas with her dad and Ellie.

Such a good daddy

5:05 - Dinner is served!

Beautiful? No. Tasty? Of course!

Though we have to fight with Ellie to eat her pancakes (why it was even a fight is beyond me. What kid doesn't like something drenched in syrup?), she chows down on the bacon and we finish the meal with only one timeout. Josh cleans up the dishes while I gather our library materials.

5:50 - Off to the library, with a quick pitstop off to Rita's to grab the diaper bag we forgot. The girls each get to pick out one book and one movie. As usual, Elaina heads straight for the Mercer Mayer section

...and Ellie heads for the blocks.

6:30 - We check out and head home. The girls chatter about all the Christmas lights they see on the drive. As soon as we get home, it's time for baths. Josh scrubs the girls while I set out their jammies, pick out clothes for tomorrow, and begin straightening the living room. I also use this time to call my grammas and Rachel just to check in.

7:15 - The girls are jammied and settle in for their end of the night routine. Ellie sits on my lap with her two lovies and watches a Road Runner cartoon followed by a Tweety Bird cartoon. Then we go "get the bed ready" for Elaina, which consists of me laying Ellie down and singing to her/sitting with her til she falls asleep. Then it's back in the living room with Elaina while she winds down for the night. When she goes to bed around 7:45, I say a prayer with her and then go take my shower.

8:05 - Tomorrow is a potluck at work, so I set out to make some Hard Apple Cider and cinnamon bread, only to realize I am about 2/3 short on the required amount of flour. I briefly consider not taking anything, but then I remember all those nice life lessons my parents taught me as I grew up, which included not going to a potluck when you don't bring anything to share. Time for Plan B: Chocolate covered pretzels.

For reasons still unknown to me, I decide to melt the chocolate coating in a skillet instead of in the microwae like I've done thousand times before. The chocolate seizes up, so being the Food Network afficianado that I am, I decide I am fully capable of rectifying the problem. Wrong. Word to the wise: milk will not un-seize chocolate. Then Josh threw some water in the pan. It didn't work, either.

Um....yuck

8:55 - After successfully melting more chocolate in the microwave, my contribution to the potluck is complete.

9:00-10:00 - I wrap Christmas presents and watched Chopped with Josh. It is a pretty productive wrapping session and I didn't quite feel 1000 years old when I stood up, so I consider it a success.

This is at least the 3rd year I've had this wrapping paper. To say I'm sick of it is a huge understatement....but there is so much left! Sigh...

10:05 - Doors locked, cats fed, teeth brushed, and off to bed!

Well, that was sort of exhausting. But it's good to remember the normal days, because life is mostly normal days, after all. And I want to enjoy them all!

On holey coats and promises

When I was a junior in college, my parents bought me my very first pea coat. It was black wool, lined with satin, and designed to protect against the bitter lake-effect wind that knifed through campus during the endless winter months. It made me feel grown up, professional. Ready to take on the world.

When I moved to Nashville a year and a half later, my coat came with me, though it was hard to fathom needing it in the suffocating heat of mid-August. Soon enough, the heat faded with the leaves, and the slate grey sky of winter settled over the city. I hated winter in Nashville. It was always, always grey, always, always a cold seep-into-your-bones rain falling because it wasn't quite cold enough to snow. I had wondered if I would need it, but I was thankful for my coat. By that time, it had seen better days. A button was loose, but more than that, the satin lining had worn out in the left pocket. More than once I'd dissolve into a panic thinking I had lost my keys, only to find that they had fallen through the pocket into the body of my coat. (Why I never just put my keys in my purse is beyond me). When the grey lifted and the cherry blossoms bloomed, it went back into my closet, and I thought little of the holes in the pocket which, by that time, had worn through the bottom of my coat as well.

And really, those little holes didn't matter.

Then on a frigid December night in 2005, when 8 inches of snow blanketed Dekalb and the little towns around it, Josh and I went out for a fancy Italian dinner to celebrate surviving the semester, which had ended the day before. I had gotten my hair cut earlier in the day and dressed in my best dress pants and cashmere sweater. He came to my apartment, and I slipped my camera into my coat as we left. After all, it wasn't often that we went out for a nice dinner--usually the $5 special from Pagilai's was all our grad school stipends could afford.

We went to the Zsa Zsa Tratoria, and Josh got something he couldn't pronounce, which was endlessly amusing to me. Then we went for a drive to look at the Christmas lights, and on a little country road outside of Dekalb that had barely been plowed, he pulled over and asked me to be his wife.

When I could finally pull my eyes off of the beautiful ring he'd placed on my finger, Josh and I took pictures of our happy moment. Selfies before the days of Instagram, on old-fashioned roll film, because what grad student had money for the new technology that was the digital camera? I remember thinking I would cherish those pictures because it isn't too often you get a photo of the moment your life changes forever.

We stopped by my apartment, and then headed back out for a quick stop (though for what I don't remember) before coming back to my apartment to call our families and watch Bridget Jones's Diary, the only romantic comedy Josh had. And it was as we were settling in to watch the movie that I realized that my camera was gone. There was no finding it. The satin had given way too much, and somewhere in our celebration, it had slipped out forever.

In the 8 years since that night, I have sometimes mourned the loss of those pictures. I wish I hadn't put my camera in my coat. I wish I could see how happy we were--and how young. I wish I knew what they looked like. I wish I could show them to our daughters.

Last winter, I finally bought myself a new pea coat. It is purple and warm and fantastic, and I even have a nice fleece scarf to go with it. My reliable old black coat has been retired, holes and all.

I suppose, in the end, it doesn't matter. The beautiful ring Josh placed on my finger 8 years ago tonight has been joined by a simple gold band.

Every morning, I get to wake up with him by my side (though often Elaina and Ellie quite happily join us, especially on the weekends). Every day I get to share with him, the tedium of the normal routines, the miracles of our little girls, the pain that comes with loss and stress and fear, the day-in, day-out, dirty dishes and laundry and chores and laughter and deep conversations that never seem to run out, despite the hours and hours we've talked to one another since we met. And every night, I get to curl up into the nook in his side.

After all, promises are better than pictures, anyway.

Sunday's Storm

Sunday morning, we drove to church through driving rain and ominous skies. As we pulled into the parking lot, Josh said, "It almost looks like a tornado sky." The clouds were so low, and so dark.

When we dropped the girls off at DiscoveryLand, we were debriefed on where they would be taken should a take cover emergency occur. That scared me, to be honest. I was (and am) so thankful a plan was in place, but the idea that today might be the day they use it, that we would be separated from our girls during that time, was pretty unsettling.

But church went on without a hitch. We heard an incredible message by Bob Goff. And then we picked up our girls and ran out in the rain and went home. Leaves were all over the road, and the rain came in waves, almost like a carwash. But no tree limbs were down, no power poles on the road.

When we got home, we turned on the news, and then we learned that a tornado had hit Washington, Pekin, and East Peoria--all smaller towns just on the other side of the river. It is one thing to watch disaster strike some unknown town on television. It's a completely different thing when that town is home to your cousins, to your co-workers, to your friends. When people you know were a half block from the devestation. When they saw the tornado go by and heard its telltale roar. When the weather reporters you watch every day are on the national news because they had to take shelter during the storm.

Yesterday, the National Weather Service indicated that the tornado that hit Washington was an EF4, with maximum sustained wind speeds of 190 mph. The destruction is unbelieveable.

Please pray for all those affected by Sunday's storm, here in central Illinois, in Indiana, and elsewhere.

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Halloween Costume link up

Because Elaina's birthday falls two days before Halloween, I'm usually scrambling to find a costume for her and Ellie. This year, however, I planned ahead, and I couldn't have been happier with the results.

Elaina initially said she wanted to be a dancing flower for Halloween. But one day, Josh and I watched her playing at a park, hopping carelessly (and sometimes dangerously...) from one piece of equipment to the next, and we decided she was like a little spider. A few days later, I saw a Spider Girl costume on sale at Zulily, and our little superhero was born.

Coincidentally, Arcadia, the girls' cousin and Elaina's bff, also went as a superhero, so it was sort of a family theme :)

For Ellie, her costume was borne out of a nickname her Papa gave her. When she was little, he called her Ellie-belly, and then his little "belly-rina". A tutu and onesie from Zulily later, and her costume was complete. She loved being a ballerina and insisted on twirling for everyone. I loved asking her what she was going to be: "I'm gonna be a bawwereeeena!"

We took the girls out for Merchant Night the Friday before Halloween--in our small town, several businesses downtown and along the highway open their door for trick-or-treaters. They had a blast, and I'm so glad we were able to go, because Halloween night was something of a sloppy mess.

The cousins at Merchant Night

We stil went trick-or-treating on Halloween, first stopping at our neighbors', Hans and Jo's, to fill up on goodies. (They love the girls and the girls love them. We are so fortunate to have such wonderful neighbors.) Then it was off to Gramma and Papa's, where their buckets were filled again, and my tummy was filled with some delicious Mexican hot chocolate (made with the normal fixin's, plus cinammon and cloves). My camera decided to stop working right as we were headed out the door, so I didn't get as many pictures as I'd like to. We went up and down their street and hit another neighborhood before the rain and a tired ballerina sent us home.

This year more than others, I just so enjoyed experiencing the fun of Halloween through my girls' eyes. It is one of the best parts of being a parent--getting to relive your childhood and help make memories for your little ones. I think this year was definitely a success!