My little runaway, my run-run-run-run-runaway...

Yesterday A broke a Very Important Rule. He received a very expensive toy from Auntie Sux for his birthday and the Rule was: give it back to mommy when you're done playing with it and DO NOT take it apart because the (very small) pieces will get lost. Sure enough, while I was working on the computer he came down with the toy in pieces. And, of course, one major piece was lost (I should mention the toy is made out of Lego). Since he had about 100 Lego pieces on the floor of his room, I told him to clean up his room and look for the piece at the same time. He scooped all the Legos up into the bin but didn't find the missing piece. I told him to keep looking and I sort of poked around in the bin but didn't really see it and didn't really have time to dig around looking for it. Anyway, he couldn't find it and so the Consequence of Rule Breaking came down: I took away the entire Lego bin. He ran downstairs, crying and grabbed his backpack. Then he opened up the dress-up box and started throwing costumes all over the floor. "What are you doing? Put that stuff away! "I say. "I'm packing my suitcase and I'm leaving! I'm going to live in another house," says A. Still with tears streaming down his face he opens the fridge, takes out a few apples, finds his wallet and puts his few little quarters in it and continues packing. At this point, sad as he was, it was all I could do to not burst out laughing at his adorable patheticness. So instead I pointed out that it's really cold outside. His answer was to pack "2 coats." "Well, then, which house are you going to?" He thinks about that for a second and then declares, "I'm going to live outside in a sleeping bag!" "How will you get to school?" Again, more thought. "You'll have to come and tell me when it's school time and take me there." He really had a good plan going. I took his little face in my hands and it was just so sweet with those big brown eyes, long eyelashes with tiny teardrops clinging to them, his little eyebrows all furrowed in sadness and I suggested that we wait for W to come home from school and maybe he could find the missing piece. "So will you stay in our house until then?" Sad nods. W came home 10 minutes later and he found the piece in about 2 seconds. So the bag was unpacked, the Legos returned and all was well again. At least until next time he decides to run away. Hopefully it will be to college!

P.S. this morning W was asking him how he was going to watch TV out in his sleeping bag and A answered that he'd build one. W suggested he get a job and buy one and A agreed that was a good idea and his plan is to go work with Daddy since he already has "2 quarters so I only need a few more!" Too sweet!

The Requisite Halloween Costume Photo

I didn't even bother with costumes until Friday afternoon because they kept changing their minds. It was a half day at school so once W came home we started work on the costumes. How lucky that I had just bought him these bright orange pants! As you can see his costume is mostly duct tape, silver spray paint and various hoses and tools from around the house. A wanted to be Ben Kenobi and his costume is an old long sleeved shirt of Eric's and my raincoat. I put cornstarch in his hair and made him the beard (W kept teasing that he looked like Santa Claus). He has a green lightsaber made of, yep, green duct tape and foam pipe insulation. We ran into Princess Leia and Darth Vader out trick or treating. Unfortunately we did not get a photo of the little dog dressed as yoda - so cute. M wore her purple and gold princess costume, it's her favorite. We went to Strafford for candy and then to Barrett Hall for their annual party. It was a great time, beautiful weather. One really nice thing about Halloween in small towns is there's not much candy when you get home!

Lost Curls

I know it happens to all of us, but I've managed to avoid the "Look mommy I cut my own hair" experience for this long. I had my fingers crossed; maybe it would never happen! Could I be so lucky? Nope. Last night, while getting M ready for bed, she proudly told me, "I cut off my bad hair." What? What bad hair? "Right here." (points to the side of her head where I see that, indeed, she has cut a large chunk of her hair off). Baby, I say, where's your hair? She points to the floor behind the rocking chair. There, on the carpet, next to a pair of safety scissors, are several blond curls. I didn't know how to react but I wanted to make it clear that she is NEVER to cut her own hair again. So instead of getting mad I was sad; "Oh, M, you cut off your beautiful curls? Why did you do that? You can't be a princess without your beautiful curls! (manipulative, I know)It makes me so sad to see these curls in my hand. It makes me want to cry." Sure enough, her face was getting sadder and sadder until she burst into tears and promised to never cut her hair again. Poor girl, she was so proud of herself. I'll have to get her one of those dolly heads where you can style the hair. Although then she may go cutting off her brother's hair! At least I have a sweet, curly memento for her scrapbook!