Halloween Fun!

Halloween was great fun this year! We went to the church for the annual "Trunk or Treat".

Before going, Doyle decided he needed to dress up somehow but wasn't sure what to do. Quickly donning long hair, taped glasses and sporting a John Deere cap; he instantly transformed into the local Nerdy-Redneck-Hippy-Biker dude! Doesn't he look pleased? His sullen face was just part of the act. He really had as much fun as anyone.

Gavin had talked for months about being a vampire. So...
Gavin was a vampire!! And surprisingly I don't remember any others.

One of the funniest was Mom and Dad. Dad was a punk rocker and he wore it well! Mom was Maxine; the real Maxine. She was adorable. I don't think Mom could find it in herself to be as brusque or frank as Maxine but she looked wonderful! They were an absolutely great couple. Halloween at it's best.



I had worked hard to make my costume. Bought felt for my shoes and hat but found out that elf shoes take much more felt than I had figured... Therefore, my hat was crocheted. It was cute enough that someone actually told me she would love to have a hat like mine. Guess I should have taken orders and crocheted while passing out the treats! Topped that off with a green "elf" tunic made out of fleece. And WaaLaa! Santa's Helper!


Usually costumes around our house are whatever we can come up with. (Lots of hobos and pirates when my kids were young.) *smile
But it was so much fun making my costume this year, I think I will do it again.

There were so many more creative and inspired costumes. I can't remember a "Trunk or Treat" where I have had as much fun!



It was nice to spend the evening with my favorite guys. And in case you wondered: If you cross Santa's helper with a Nerdy-Redneck-Hippy-Biker dude, you will get an adorable Vampire!


Can't wait to see what we come up with for next year!

Rebel with NO Cause!

See that cutie with his Dad; all dressed up in his Sunday best? Have you ever laid eyes on a more innocent, sweet, naive lad?

Let's be honest, his father and I have created a monster! this little man has the spirit of a Tiger. He has the heart of a Trojan. He is as lovable as a teddy bear! BUT he is truly his Father's son. In every way he aspires to be "just like Dad". They are like twinkies of a different size...packaged together!

Recently Gavin set some goals. There were things he wanted and he determined to have them at any cost. For several weeks Gavin saved every penny. He worked hard around the house and stowed away every cent that he could. Every day he would pull out the piggy bank and recount. He kept telling everyone about the MP3 player that he had seen. Just a tad longer and it was his! Every chore that he performed brought him a little closer to the goal. It was gratifying to watch. I was amazed at his perseverance. He worked untiring and his little 8 year old spirit never ceased. I couldn't help but think there are adults that could learn from him!

Just a few months ago he would have taken that money to town and bought the latest bakugan or a water gun or maybe even new bike accessories. An MP3 player was merely a step up. I smiled as I thought about "boys and their toys".

But guess what? All of a sudden my sweet son decided to assert his manliness! And

overnight everything changed. The money he saved did not buy a MP3 player. He became an

instant rebel.

I think I will blame this on his father. Afterall, rebellion is certainly NOT in my nature! :-)

First of all the music player became a BB gun! This with the understanding that he needed to keep the birds out of our fruit trees. And no shooting with other children there. Along with a list of safety rules he readily accepted. Just look at that smile. He was very agreeable and complying.

The innocent face remained!

....at least for a few days.

Now you need to understand the "father-son" relationship shared between this boy and his father. When they have nothing to do they watch the knife channel!! Do you know about the knife channel? It is nothing more than a shopping channel for knives. They can sit and admire those silly knives for hours on end. Sometimes they just mute the television and watch like a couple of redneck insurgents on the revolt. Gavin has become so adept that he can tell you an approximate cost before they put it on the screen...and he is only 8!

My husband has a special drawer where his knife arsenal is kept. Knifes of every kind. And this is like a playhouse for my son. He will take out every knife; and there are MANY, and lay them out on the table and drool!

So it was no surprise when he decided that he needed to spend money on a machete.

So now my pure and spotless child has become somewhat of a rebel; albeit an adorable one. He has no cause. He just loves the man his father is. Fortunately so do I.

Pictures of Gavin with his weapons require a practiced look of dissent. It's a guy thing!

But I must say, I certainly hope this new look is only a phase!

In our footsteps...

This is my incredible son and his incredible sons. I remember like yesterday the day Pete was born. He was my first. Since as far back as I can remember all I wanted was to be a mother and so when they put him in my arms the first time...I was in paradise!
Unfortunately for Pete, I was young and pretty hard on him. He survived my trial-and-error-lack-of-guidebook parenting. He also survived the tumultous and sometimes nasty fighting that went on between his father and me. Things were quite often wild, outlandish, and difficult. There was a picture of my husband and me next to the word dysfunction in the dictionary.
Don't misunderstand...we had good times too. The fights, however, were extreme. And often. I remember Pete having lots of nightmares when he was very little. My father in law told me they probably occurred because he witnessed his dad and I fighting alot. Perhaps he was right.
We divorced when Pete was twelve. By that time there were three other children. They all adjusted positively and became healthy adults and members of society. I am very proud of them.
Before Pete got married he expressed a concern that his marriage could end up like mine. I assured him that divorce was not genetic! He could make it work. We talked at length about marriage, responsibility, about putting God into the relationship; about give and take, about learning from the mistakes of our own parents.
Nonetheless, today my heart is aching for my son. My heart is sad for two little boys and their dad. My concerns involve a son who is getting divorced.
I think of all the times I could cover his boo boos with bandaids. I recall a five year old coming home from Kindergarten upset that some other children made fun of him. I could fix it with homemade cookies. When he was six he woke me one morning singing in my ear, "My buddy, my buddy and me..." We made it through Jr. High and puberty...together. Even when he was nineteen he emailed "Mom" with a serious concern. Together we found reassurance and peace.
But once again Satan's ploys and tactics have destroyed one of our greatest assets. The family. And it is my son's. No amount of bandaids, cookies or singing will fix it. And while his heart aches, mine does too. A mother's heartache is quite often not her own. I would speculate that the pain our children go through is harder on us than our own. Much much harder.
Fortunately, I also believe in a loving Heavenly Father that can heal and mend our broken hearts, that hears and answers our heartfelt prayers and that will be there for my son, Pete, when I cannot. Whoever said once "Life is a long lesson in humility" was so right.

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A season of Love

This morning after stretching, then carefully undoing the charlie's in my leg...I rose. It's an age thing. You'll see. It happens after years of self-inflicted body torture. The torture is done but the consequences of negligence continue.

It's going to be a beautiful day. The evidence is ALL over my refrigerator. There are as many weddings to attend this summer as I have toenails!

Just lots and lots of weddings. I'm happy.

It convinces me that the sacred bond and trust of marriage is still alive; that the establishment that has existed since the dawn of ages is still valid. That people still believe in a sacred commitment of marriage to their one and only. I'm delighted, thankful and relieved that it is still so.

I am reminded of the very moment I fell in love for the last time. We were on his Harley headed home from Pinos Altos.

He reached back and softly touched my leg. I knew I loved him. The feeling went ALL over me. I knew that very moment. I knew I could not live without him. I knew we would marry...

And we did.

It is truly a remarkable marriage. Not the first for either of us but the first time either of us have loved so completely. This is indeed my season of love; my season of love for eternity.

And now...

Leftover Insecurities!

So I was doing some thinking today...
Because of the downturn in the economy my husband went to work out of town. I miss him. He is not here to weedeat, to fix the plumbing, to advise me when the car is making weird knocking noises, to discipline the eight year old when mommy is tired and frustrated. He is gone all week when I need to talk 'til 2 in the morning, when I want to share a "cute" grandbaby story, when I am sitting on the porch reveling in the first thunderstorm of the season. And I so miss him!

And I discover that his absence brings old insecurities to the surface. Insecurities left behind by a former marriage; a former husband who did not know what faithful meant. A previous marriage fraught with infidelity and betrayal.

After he is home this last weekend I notice a phone number scribbled on a scrap of paper by the computer. I do a reverse lookup. It is a cell phone number with an out of state prefix. I block my number and call. I can't breathe. I am afraid to hear the voice that answers. All I get is a women's voicemail. No name. I put the number aside and tell myself I am being silly.

It is late but I can't sleep. I know that my husband is true. He is loyal, staunch and dependable and furthermore....I KNOW he loves me. But my sleep is fitful and I wake in the morning feeling hung over.

After I have been up, had breakfast and watched Regis and Kelly, the devoted love of my life calls. I ask about the number. He searches his brain but cannot remember whose number it is. Finally hours later, he calls and tells me it is my sister-in-law. I look into my cellphone. Of course, we never memorize numbers anymore. We just click on the name. Alas! There is it. My sister-in-law. I truly feel like an idiot. But I must blame it on someone or something... Surely it is not my own fault I suffer this paranoid psychosis.

Darn Ex husbands!