Halloween is my 'Nam

As I'm sitting here trying to come up with something to write about I am listening to my little people discuss what they want to be for Halloween. Also while I'm sitting here I can feel the control freak inside me coming up for air. I don't want them to be Batman or god forbid, Barbie or really anything mainstream. Every year I plan their costumes around a theme and since I have three (the teenager bowed/fought her way out a few years ago) to work with I can have all kinds of fun. But they are a little bit older now and have their own opinions. So as I'm getting ready to burst their bubble I remember a promise that I made long ago.

I promised myself that I would let my kids be whatever they wanted to be for Halloween, and if they wanted a store-bought costume then a store-bought costume they would have. I think I made that promise when I was around 9 or 10 years old and had just suffered through my mom's latest costume "creation". In her defense we had no money so whatever costume I wore generally had to be made out of whatever we had lying around the house. One year I was The Hunchback of Notre Dame. All that consisted of was a pillow, a sheet and a piece of rope to hold everything together. I already had the limp because I had twisted my ankle on the playground a few days before (We didn't go to the doctor unless a limb had been severed from our bodies and it had to be a really important limb at that). Another year I was a scarecrow. This costume was made out of a pair of jeans and an old flannel shirt that had a few rips and tears. But the "best" part of that costume was that the shirt was stuffed with hay to give it that "authentic" look. Oh, did I mention that I am deathly allergic to hay?! I spent that night wheezing on a hayride and being told to "stop whining". Again, in my mom's defense the doctors hadn't yet pinpointed what triggered my asthma attacks. But by far my most vivid memory of my childhood Halloweens involved a witch's costume. This costume was made up of black clothes, a witch's black hat (probably borrowed) and wait for it . . . face paint that was made from my mom's liquid foundation and black and green food colorings. In case you're wondering that does not come off the face with a simple scrubbing. More like it has to wear off . . . over time. So for the remainder of that school week guess who got to go to school with "green face"?!

For the nag

I received an email from my SIL nagging me about my blog and the fact that I have not updated it for a few months. I know I have neglected my blog but I've been BUSY! But since I did say I would try to post something every week not every 12 weeks I will try to update everyone on the last few months of The Stunning Six's escapades.

On November 18th YaYa turned 14. I don't know how that happened. Where have I been? I can still see so clearly the day the doctor handed her to me and said, "It's a girl!" Until that day 14 years ago I had no idea that my heart was capable of that kind of love.

On November 20th Little Bitty had her tonsils and adenoids out. The operation was a success and her recovery time was almost nil. She was a trooper and did amazingly well. The only lasting effect seems to be that her tonsils were somehow hard-wired to her self-control. With the tonsils out she has been a feisty little thing. Sometimes a real stinker. But still so precious. I have no doubt that one day she will rule the world.

In mid December I took YaYa and a friend to a concert. Wanna feel your age? Go to a concert with a couple of teenagers. Gone are the days of cigarette lighters lighting up the night. The lighters have been replaced by cell phone lighting. All different shapes, sizes and abilities. Some were videoing the concert, others were texting, and still others were letting friends who had not been able to go listen live over the airways. I should also note that it took me two full days to recover even though there was no alcohol involved. Yet another indication that I am old.

We spent Christmas at home. And it was bliss. We went back and forth on the idea of going out of town but 3 days before Christmas we decided it would most likely be a disaster ending with at least one of us left on the side of the road in a small, backwoods town.

In December we also learned that DH had received a promotion. He is now VP of Construction! To say, "I am proud" is an understatement. I continue to feel blessed that this man is my husband and the father of my four beautiful children.

For New Year's Eve I again forgot that I am a member of the "close to 40" set. I booked a suite and took YaYa and 3 of her friends to the hotel to ring in the new year. The girls had fun. I was exhausted. I finally went to sleep at 3:00am. The girls gave in at 7:30am. Again, even though no alcohol was involved it took me several days to recover.

So that's pretty much it in a nutshell. We continue to be blessed. All six of us are healthy, happy and loved. What else could I possibly ask for?