Dreaded anticipation

Do you ever have those moments of anticipated dread, or dreaded anticipation?  You know the feeling--when you know something has to happen, but you don't want it to happen.  At least not on your watch, but if you're the only one on watch, you're it.  And as bad as it is, if it doesn't happen, the consequences would be far worse.

So, you try your best to prepare.  And you wait.  With tremendous dread.  At the same time, you worry that it won't come, and then what?  Ugh, you don't even want to consider the alternative.  You have this tightness in your chest as your worry when and if it'll come, yet not thrilled that it's coming.  Your chest gets tight, your stomach knots up, and you even feel a little nauseous as you wait.  And when it does come, those feelings wash over you all over again.  They don't call those wrinkles on your forehead "worry lines" for nothing.

This happens in our family every single day.  During the week, the concern is not just if it's going to come, but where?  At home?  In public?  On the weekends, it's compounded because now it's not just me that has ants crawling in my brain as I wonder when and if it'll come; Sam is right there with me.

Then it happens.  It washes over everything like a tsunami.

Ethan poops.

A honeybee chicken and a chicken pig

Either I've become very busy with the kids' and families' schedules, gotten extremely lazy, or we have been caught in a time warp where I lost all track of time.  Here is my first attempt at a return to normalcy by updating this blog.

Ally is six years old now.  We put her in a costume when she was 2 months old, but did not force her to try to beg for candy.  No, we had the decency to wait until she was 14 months old, lest people would accuse us (rightfully) of abusing our child in an attempt to get candy.  If my math is correct, this year marks the 5th time we've put her into a costume and escorted her outside to get some goods.

The first year, she was a ladybug, and since she did not make it past one house before losing it, I failed to capture her in action.  However, I did capture her in costume on a very cold Halloween:

The second year wasn't much better.  Undeterred, we took her out again when she was three.  Well, that did not work so well either.  Finally, when she was four, she was Ariel the mermaid and went out with a neighbor while Sam stayed at home with Ethan (then only 6 months old).  That year, she actually made it around the block and got a respectable amount of candy.

Last year, Ethan, although sick, went out for the first time with his sister.  We started at Sam's office:

Success at the office!  Later that night,I figured they were super cute and would get loads of candy.  Right?  Wrong.  After 5 houses, Ally reasoned "Why should I walk when I have so much candy at home?"  So, she ruined Halloween for me and went home.  Ethan, on the other hand, realized he could get candy just by knocking on doors!  So, with a fever, he marched on.  Halloween saved for mommy!

Do we even want to talk about this year?  I put Ally into a honeybee costume she picked out at the Halloween store.  The very same store that sells adult costumes, which scared the living daylights out of her. She ran in, eyes barely open, picked out the first costume in her size, and called it good.  

She did so well at Sam's office, and with a gorgeous night, I thought she'd make up for years past and haul in the loot!  Wrong again.  Five houses later, she lost it when a group of teenagers made too much noise.  So, she turned in for the night, and in fact, hid in the corner every time other trick-or-treaters rang the doorbell.  

Ethan, on the other hand, wanted absolutely nothing to do with his chicken costume.  The best we got at Sam's office was a very angry half chicken:

Later that night, we accomplished a headless chicken that ate the candy almost as fast as he could get it:

At least the headless chicken said "bok bok" on cue to bring in a respectable amount of candy.  To sum up this year, we had a chicken for a honeybee and a pig for chicken.  No matter--I consider it a success!