Familiar...

This morning I woke up, not to the sounds of slot machines and sirens, but the sounds of two boys and their instruments in our living room.  I jumped out of bed, smiled when my bare feet touched the cold wood floors in our room, and quietly made my way to the living room to be immersed in my familiar.

And as I came around the corner and turned on the lamp, two little brown eyes met mine from across the room.  He was in the middle of play, the middle of his favorite familiar, but he got up and almost without thinking, made his way to my side, wrapped his arms around my leg, and hugged me tight.  I scooped him up, he placed his head on my shoulder, and softly patted my back as I sat next to Daddy and his guitar.  No words were exchanged, simply because there were none available to describe the love we felt in our little room at that little moment.

So happy to be home.  Back to my favorite familiar.

good to be HOME

After a whirlwind weekend to a new city, a national conference, and two 4:00 am book-ends, home hasn't felt this glorious in a long time.  We had an early morning this morning, spent over six hours on a plane or in a car, and pulled into my parents' driveway at about 4:00 this afternoon and ran like two crazy people to the house to see our peanut.  We were homesick for him, and were more than ready to be back to the Midwest --- to the comfort of our home and the peaceful rhythm of our family.  And as I sit here tonight with bags unpacked, my favorite blanket on my lap, and Black Friday catalogs awaiting me from the mailbox, I am soaking up the quiet, soaking up the anticipation of the holiday week ahead, and soaking up that sweet little boy tucked in upstairs.  There's nothing like a weekend in Vegas to make me appreciate the quiet blessings I have to return home to.  

More from our weekend away this week!  My brain is entering shut-down mode and my very own bed awaits...

So, so good to be home, sweet, home.  

 
And thanks to all of Cruz's grandmas and grandpas and papas for taking such good care of our little man.  It's times like these that we really step back and realize how good we have it to have all of you so close and so willing to alter your plans to allow ours to work.  Cruz is one lucky, loved little boy!   

I Mustache You a Question...

...have you thought about your Christmas card for the year???

This is always both a daunting and exciting experience for me, and every year I struggle knowing what to include and how to best represent our family and reflect on the past year.

The Paper Mama's got a fun little diddy going on over at her blog, featuring favorite past and present Christmas cards from her family and her readers.  She's giving away some prizes, but even more importantly, sharing some unique and hilarious ways to spice up this year's card.

Can't believe we're into Thanksgiving week already.  I'm not sure I'm quite ready for trees and Santa and Christmas music quite yet...:/  

Hobbies

  
I've experimented with a lot of hobbies over the years, a few sticking like hot glue on a pom pom, and most fading away for a variety of reasons.  I've always been a memorabilia fanatic, filling boxes upon boxes of school awards, movie ticket stubs, and pictures, and once took up scrapbooking as a way to organize and display my piles of papers.  Not only did this require frequent trips to Hobby Lobby for the perfect piece of scrapbook paper, but my perfectionist self would spend hours on a single two-page spread.  This hobby of mine became more of a burden than an escape, and I soon let it go, along with my paper hoarder tendencies (thank you modern-day technology, especially my external hard-drive).

Then there was crocheting.  A few months before Cruz was born, I decided on a whim and trip to (what do you know) Hobby Lobby that I wanted to make a baby blanket for my soon-to-be firstborn.  I thought it sounded like the perfect escape from Facebook, Pinterest, and Blogger, and had visions of sitting with my feet up at night, crocheting scarves and booties and fabulous sweaters for sweet babies.  This hobby of mine lasted for about a month, and included a few nights at crochet club with a group of old ladies drinking wine and showing off their latest stitch and pattern and mahogany crochet needles.  I was intimidated by these old ladies, and grew frustrated when I couldn't make it past two rows on my blanket.  I think the worst part, however, was when Beau starting calling me Annabelle.  Or the time I thought I'd have to go through extra security in order to get my crochet needles on an airline.   

Sometimes I fear that our society isn't very good at cultivating the importance of hobbies.  We work too much, spend too much time on our smart phones, and have equated the art of spending money with a logical hobby for far too long.  To me, true hobbies involve both pleasure and escape, and should be something that require a bit of vulnerability --- something one should work at, and improve on, and feel the freedom of making and learning from mistakes.  

I love to cook and take photos, read, write, and craft with Cruz, but it was time to discover a new hobby, one that would require me to start from scratch, learn by doing, and make and learn from my mistakes.  And besides, with all the music permeating through this house lately, it was time I picked up my weight around here.

Beau has been learning guitar for a few months now, and it's been neat to watch him progress and develop a passion for something brand new.  He's taking lessons and learning so much, and I absolutely adore the sounds of his strings filling our house at night (except for that opening number to Simple Song which I now hear in my sleep).  And then there's Cruz, who identified a deep infatuation for music at the wee age of a few months.  From his Let's Rock Elmo, to his Woofer Guitar, to watching Johnny Lang play the blues every morning while I got ready for work, anything musical has been on the top of his 'play' list for, well, ever.  He loves his drum, flocks to any sort of instrument in the Target toy aisle, and is at his happiest when the three of us congregate on the living room floor and jam.  

 We took our jam session outdoors last weekend, and took advantage of the 70-degree November day in one of our favorite places, Alice Wyth Lake.  We had lots of fun.

I may not be able to play Somewhere Over the Rainbow quite yet, but I am getting pretty skilled moving from the 'C' to the 'G' chord.  I know two strum patterns and six chords, and can play something that sounds a little like Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.  I'm a work-in-progress, but am soaking up the humbling feeling of learning something I know next to nothing about.

  
Maybe next I'll decide to learn Italian. 

I'd love to hear from all of you out there.  What hobbies have stuck with you over the years?  What's something you've learned recently?  What's something you've always wanted to learn to do, but have never made it happen?  

That's it from me for a few days.  I'm heading to Sin City for my first ever NCTE Conference this weekend and have loads of packing to do.  It's pretty much the bees-knees for English teachers and is chock-full of authors, sessions, and free stuff to inspire and motivate educators.  It will be a weekend of firsts for me --- my first solo national presentation, my first trip to Vegas, and my first experience getting up close and personal with a few people I consider to be the near top of what they do.  Stay tuned for updates from the city that never sleeps and let me know if you have favorite restaurants or must-sees on the strip!

:)

  

     

Book of the Week

This summer, you may have followed along as Cruz and I imparted on a quest to learn his rainbow by declaring each week a specific 'Color of the Week.' We explored red and green and blue and orange and yellow, and while I'm quite convinced it helped with his colors, it also put our creative energy to good use during the summer season.  I filled a discovery box each week with objects and treasures that matched our color of the week.  We cooked things like red popsicles and orange peel cookies and blue jello, and did lots of neat crafts that continue to hang and add color to various rooms in our house.  I loved color week and have big plans to throw in some letters-of-the-week next summer.

Notice the 'summer' theme here?  I am blessed with a job that allows me more time at home during the summer months, which means more time to devote to fun projects and adventures with Cruz.  And while we're blessed with a daycare center that provides so many wonderful learning opportunities for my son throughout the school year (they walk in lines, let me tell you!), I do miss throwing together these little bouts of curriculum for Cruz and I to work on together.

So this weekend, I decided to start something new.  Instead of an entire week devoted to a color, with crafts and foods and adventures to go with it, I'm starting a book-of-the-week project.  One book, or a series of books, that become our focus of learning for the week, with one or two activities to go with it.  Since Cruz loves his books perhaps more than anything else, this should be easy for me to integrate and will push me to make a habit of introducing him to crafts, creation, and construction.  It's simple, it's easy to throw together with the supplies I've accumulated over the months, and it provides a break from the redundancy that seems to inch our way into our house during the cold winter months.

This week, we took a closer look at one of Cruz's favorite series, How Do Dinosaurs... by Jane Yolen.  These books, especially his favorite, How Do Dinosaurs Play with Their Friends, are one of a handful of books that Cruz will choose to read every day if he had the choice.  We read the book, talked about dinosaurs, sharing, and the letter 'D', and did some painting with green dinosaur paint.  Afterwards, we combined pieces of Cruz's painted masterpiece with some green construction paper to put together a 'D' shaped dinosaur.

 

         
Dad even got in on the painting adventure, devising his own dinosaur/godzilla creature.  I think it's rad.

  

 

Cruz First Trip to the Silver Screen

I'm a sucker for the big screen.  It's my idea of a perfect date night --- a blustery cold evening or Sunday afternoon, preferably with rain, wind, and an easy reason to wear sweaters and boot socks, hiding out in a cozy theater with a tub of popcorn, and snuggling up with my sweetheart for two plus hours of escape to a new world.  

I love the movies for so many reasons, but most of all for their magic.  In the comfort of a simple movie seat, I've traveled to the towers of Hogwarts, and walked the streets of District 12 in the country of Panem.  I've stood with outstretched arms at the bow of the Titanic at sunset, and literally stepped into my subconcious with the help of Dominick Cobb.  I've traveled the world in the comfort of a movie seat, and to me, these experiences are worth the $8 movie ticket.  

The cold, blustery, and rainy weather on Sunday swept Beau, Cruz, and I out of our living room and into the theater for Cruz's first silver screen experience.  We chose 'Wreck-It Ralph', and were more than ready for whatever we were gonna get.  We weren't sure if he'd be scared, or make it through the entire thing, or not want to stay in his seat, and went in knowing we may not make it through the entire film.  To say we went in without expectations was an understatement; what we got was even cuter than I could have dreamed.

Cruz LOVED his first movie experience.  He knew just what to do with his kid's sized popcorn and lemonade, and didn't bat an eye when his chair folded up on him because he wasn't quite big enough to keep it in place.  He sat on my lap quietly, munched his popcorn, and occasionally responded with a quiet 'oooh,' or 'whoa.'  The previews hadn't even started, and our boy seemed to fully grasp the nature of his new environment.

Soon, the previews commenced and one of the most magical shots in the whole world found its way on the screen.  The crescendo'ed music, the magnificent white castle, and the fireworks exploding in the sky proved to be too much for Cruz to keep to himself.  With eyes lit up like a circus, he exclaimed a very passionate 'Yea!' that sent the entire theater into a chorus of laughter.  

As the lights dimmed to darkness and the volume reached its height, Cruz settled into his seat and watched the entire movie with what I only can describe as childlike wonder and amazement.  He laughed when he heard other kids laugh, cheered when Ralph scored his gold medal in the hero's duty, and every now and then turned his head to make sure his mom and dad were still experiencing this magnitude with him.  A few times, he even reached up and touched my hair, as if the familiarity was a comfort to him in this new and exciting place.  

The most surprising part of the movie, however, happened when Ralph sacrificed his friendship with Vanellope in order to protect her from the evil King Candy.  And just as Vanellope pleaded with Ralph to not destroy her racing car, Cruz had had too much.  He buried his face into my chest and sobbed.  In complete surprise, we consoled our sensitive one and kept telling him to keep watching and that it would all be better soon.  We would have never guessed he would have been able to pick up on the different emotions of the characters like that, but he responded just as he should have.  Well, maybe more than he should have ;). 

During more parts of the movie when it wasn't looking too good for Ralph, I would look over to see Cruz with the sweetest frown on his face, trying his hardest not to cry, and for a moment, I second-guessed our decision to bring him to the movies.  But, as all good Disney movies come to an end with upbeat music and a very fitting 'happily ever after,' Cruz was overjoyed with applause at the end.  He said goodbye to the screen all the way out the door, and at one point, I caught him blowing kisses to the credits.

Beau and I had no idea how Cruz would respond to the movie theater, but after yesterday, I have a feeling we'll make the Sunday matinee a frequent part of our weekend plans.  We both found ourselves laughing and smiling at our little boy's unrehearsed reactions, and both realized it's now time to watch what we say and watch around him.   

       

our senses were at work this weekend...

I decided late Friday night that our Saturday morning would start with breakfast in a brown paper bag.  With nothing on the agenda for our weekend, I was determined to start it off the right way --- a trip to Starbucks in my pjs, hands eager to welcome a warm cup of joe, poured ever so carefully into my first red holiday cup of the season.  Lattes from Starbucks and bagels from Panera found their way to our kitchen table early Saturday morning, kicking off a weekend full of the finer things of this November life.
 

Isn't it incredible how susceptible we are to marketing?  How just simply changing the color of a paper coffee cup can not only make your mouth water at the thought of a warm cup of something, but can literally define a season and give you that warm, fuzzy feeling of happiness at just the sight of it?  I know I'm not the only one who feels this way about Starbucks' red holiday cups, as IG, Facebook, and the drive-thru line itself is exploding with red cheer right now.  I remember one time last year, I left work in a snowstorm for a red cup of pick-me-up, only to find out that our local Starbucks had ran out.  And if an onlooker were to have observed our conversation, they would have thought that the Grinch himself had arrived at Starbucks.  Never mind that my peppermint mocha tasted the same as it would have in a red cup, it wasn't the same and it definitely wasn't instagram-worthy.
 

  
No, we are easily manipulated by our senses, and the changing of the seasons and its signature scents, tastes, and sights only emphasize this fact.  Can you imagine peppermint in June, or coconut in January?  Pumpkin spice for the 4th of July, or the smells of a barbecue grill on Christmas Eve night (don't answer that, Beau).  Although I often take my senses for granted, some days they are working so hard I can't help but recognize their power.  And this weekend it seems they were working overtime...
 

  
...I saw them in the early afternoon sunset at one of our favorite places, Alice Wyth Lake, and in the bright green color of paint that matched Cruz's dinosaur pjs.  They were in the ray of sunshine cascading through our kitchen window as the three of us painted at the table, and in the stripes of fabric of Cruz's henley and favorite navy striped blanket as he slept on my chest in the recliner.  
 

...I smelled them in the hickory bacon Beau had cured and smoked himself, and in the pile of leaves burning in our neighbor's backyard.  They were there on our early-afternoon walk, in the trees, in the leaves, and in the fresh warm air that moved around us.  They were in the top of Cruz's freshly bathed head as I rocked him to sleep, and they were most-definitely there as I sank my head in my pillow and inhaled the smell of line-dried bed sheets in the middle of November.
 

...I tasted them in my pumpkin pie bagel paired with hazelnut cream cheese, and in Cruz's warm and sweet chocolate chip muffie.  They were alive in my buttery popcorn at the cozy movie theater, and in my favorite roast beef, gouda, and horseradish sandwich at Newton's Diner.  
 

...I heard them in Cruz's laughter, in praise songs at church, and in the rain drops that danced on our roof on a cozy Sunday afternoon at home.  I heard them in Beau's guitar, and Cruz's sea of bowls or 'drums' on the kitchen floor, and I heard them in Green Eggs and Ham just before bed.
 

And finally,

...I felt them, in the warm 70 degree breeze that graced us this November weekend, and in the cold pre-snow rain that fell just hours later as we made our way into church.  I felt them in a new soft sweater, in the sweet little breaths against my chest as I snuggled Cruz to sleep, and in the warmth and coziness of the movie theater as we introduced our Cruz Man to the big screen for the very first time.  
 

To which he loved, by the way.        

It was a much-welcomed weekend at home, and a much-needed opportunity to take a deep breath and soak up the details of everyday life.  I know I say this a lot, but it seems November is flying by abnormally fast, and it's hard to believe Thanksgiving is just a little over a week away.  And although I'm quite excited to reopen our box of Christmas traditions and let the season swoop in like a January snowstorm, another part of me wishes these easy weekends without a whole lot on the agenda would stick around awhile longer.  Easy mornings in pajamas, long afternoon cuddles on the couch, and bed sheets drying on the clothesline (in November, mind you!) are just too good to wish away...
 

Cheers to the week ahead.  Happy slow time to you all...
 

 

Sometimes, Productivity Is Not Photogenic

My weekend usually comes to a close after Cruz goes to bed on Sunday night.  Beau and I curl up with our blankets and watch an episode of Boardwalk Empire while my computer does the work of downloading the captured events of the weekend from my closest tangible companion.  It's my sign the weekend has come to an end, and I'm usually filled with a similar mix of sadness, stress, excitement, and hope as I look to another busy week ahead.  

This weekend came to a close with a different kind of feeling.  I'm not sure if it's due to the time change, or the looming election tomorrow, or the feeling of being sort of in-between two holidays and two busy seasons, but I felt weird all weekend.  And to put matters in perspective, I didn't have a single picture to download to my computer.  The only picture I took this weekend was on my phone, after a grocery trip to Fareway with Cruz.

Nothing seemed camera-worthy this weekend, and one part of me hated that fact.  At one point, I told Beau it was maybe the least productive I have felt in months.  It seems I've become conditioned to think that if I'm not on the go, or making something, or capturing moments with my camera, I'm not being productive, when really, I spotted a different kind of at-home productivity that is necessary every now and then, too.  It's maybe not the 'blog worthy' productivity that's fun, and colorful, and usually accompanied with something delicious, or crafty, or Cruz doing something cute, but the kind of productivity that is real, and honest, and necessary.  

I've never done well being bored.  As long as I can remember, I'd fill my time with imaginative projects, schedules, and new adventures to embark on.  I couldn't just sit and listen to music without pausing, writing, rewinding, and then re-writing the words to every song on The Bodyguard soundtrack, seeking to know every word of 'Queen of the Night.'  I couldn't just play babies without having a written schedule for my sweet Cabbage Patch baby, Hannah, taped to the wall above her bassinet, feeding and changing her at all the right times.  I stored rock collections in Von Maur boxes, cut up entire JC Penney catalogs for paper dolls, and once gave a home to a polished acorn in my Fisher Price house.  One might say the productivity trait has been with me my entire life, and most of the time, it's reaped strong benefits in success and reward.  

Other times, however, it's proven to be hard work.  After all, a growing tree can only bend so far in the wind before it breaks.  And I guess without deliberate thought or action, this weekend was my opportunity to readjust my branches and find my footing again.  And when I look back, it was full of just the kind of productivity I needed.

...I had a low-key, easy day at home with Cruz while Beau attended the Iowa State football game with Uncle Gabe.  I cherish these days at home with Cruz because they force me to play.  And while I had plans for painting and crafting, we abandoned them for books and blocks and a trip to Hobby Lobby with Grandma.

...Sunday's start to daylight savings began early with Cruz up before six.  By 7:00, we had done two loads of laundry, ironed our dress shirts, fried a pound of bacon, and made chocolate chip muffins.  I carefully picked out our clothes for church, and had time for jam session in our family band before heading out the door. 

...I did some online Christmas shopping and carefully mapped out some unique and creative gifts for Cruz.  

...I taught Cruz to sing the chorus of "I Will Wait' by Mumford.  Add this to the list of The Alphabet Song and Call Me Maybe. 

...We read and read and read and read.  I always had dreams of a vast collection of books in the comfort of our own home, and have found it's even better putting them to good use.

...We stayed in Saturday night and *finally* made it through the first episode of The Wire.  We were itching for a new TV series from Netflix and have heard good things.  Sadly, however, the red envelope will be here for awhile as our plans for a movie/TV binge ended up with both of us asleep after the first episode.

...I learned three chords, a C, a G, and an F, on my early Christmas present.  Yes, it's time this girl picks up her weight around here and learns to play an instrument in our family's band.  I'm pretty excited about my new hobby and have many plans to participate in bath night jam sessions.

And since my camera didn't get a lot of spotlight time this weekend, I will post a video of Cruz the Lion from his daycare's annual program last week.  Front and center in his lion costume, he didn't quite know what to think of all the people staring at him.  Every now and then, he would remember he was supposed to be singing and dancing, but spent most of the time trying to pull the lion collar away from his neck!  He looked so small, and it made me smile to think of how unaware he was of what was going on.  He may have had no clue why his mom and dad dropped him off in his daycare room at 6:00 at night, or why he was put in this silly lion costume, or why hundreds of people, including his parents and grandparents, were in the audience, smiling and laughing and snapping pictures of him, but, like always, he went with it, doing his best and forgetting the rest.  I love that about my little man.  

                     

Happy Monday, everyone!

Let the Wild Rumpus Roar - Halloween 2012

I find Halloween to be such a funny holiday.  This might be because of the range of memories I have floating through my mind today of all the different ways this day has been celebrated throughout my life...

-the Halloween parties at school, dressing up as a ladybug in my homemade costume for the sixth year in a row because "it was just so cute," when what I secretly wanted to be was a princess with a giant sparkly dress and crown like every other girl in the school.

-hitting every single house in my small town with my older brother and dad.  Tradition was that Mom stayed home to pass out candy, and Dad took us trick-or-treating.  I always loved having Dad around because he made it fun, but secretly despised it when someone stuck a beer in my pumpkin and told me it was 'for your dad.'  No wonder my dad preferred to take us around town...

-stopping at Edy's Southside Grocery, this little run-down general store in the middle of town, owned by these very old, very grumpy sisters --- Edy and Louise.  I was convinced they rode broom sticks to work and hid hundreds of dollars (among other things) in tin cans in their yard.  Dad usually got conned into fixing a leaky faucet, while Jordan and I tried to act gracious as we accepted a box of Valentine conversation hearts from two years before, and cautiously scanned the 'hidden' mouse traps in the four corners of the shack to make sure they hadn't scored their dinner.  

-carefully sorting, labeling, and prioritizing my candy after a full night of trick-or-treating, trading my chocolate for Skittles and suckers, and winning Dad over with those gross orange and black paper-wrapped candies that only surface around Halloween time.

-dressing up as a 50s poodle girl for my first middle school Halloween dance, and feeling awkward dancing with my then 'boyfriend', Dusty, in a Jason mask like every other boy in middle school.

-Halloween parties at Ryan's house in junior high --- pizza at Momma Mia's, scary movies in the basement, a black cat at the doorstop, and another failed attempt at a game of spin-the-bottle (or even worse, sitting in the bathroom with Zack W. after we had been chosen as partners in a game of 'Seven Minutes in Heaven.' After a failed attempt to climb out the bathroom window, we played rock-paper-scissors instead. 

-so many scary movies and urban legends to follow.  I never watch scary movies throughout the year, but love them around this time.  I remember The Blair Witch Project, my first time seeing The Shining, and watching, The Exorcist of Emily Rose in the theater with Sarah, and screaming bloody murder in the bathroom after the door jammed on us.  

-dressing up with Beau in college.  I loved my homemade flapper costume, however, it paled in comparison to Beau's roommate, Dallas' thoughtful costumes.  Although his Burger 'King' costume was my favorite, I did give him mad props when it came to working the parachute pants for his Vanilla Ice impersonination.  He even shaved tracks into his sideburns.  

-the year of haunted houses, a failed bet which put Beau's roommate, Todd, into a skin-tight Peter Pan costume, and karaoke at Mama Mariachi's on The Hill.  This night was nothing short of hilarious, and suddenly, images of my husband in a Joe Dirt mullet, standing outside Jimmy Johns, balancing six sub sandwiches and drinks at two o'clock on the morning, seem to be reappearing in my mind.  Some days are better left under the rug... ;)   

Yes, the range of memories I have of this odd little holiday make it hard for me not to love.  Unlike Thanksgiving and Christmas, which tend to be celebrated in traditional, stately ways, Halloween has an edge about it, a sense of magic that seems to come to life when little ones dress in costumes and prance through the neighborhood after dark.  It always reminds me of a children's book...

I thought I would have a hard time competing with Cruz's caterpillar costume from last year, but I think we came close.  While my little bug last year was perfectly content sitting in his wagon with his oversized hat and body-suit, this year, he put up a fight.  Yes, my little Max lived up to his stubborn and wild-spirited character from one of my all-time favorite books, Where the Wild Things Are, and threw quite the protest every time I tried to put it on him.  After a sucker, a quick trip outside, and his 'puhn-kin,' he soon forgot he was wearing the adorable little number, and had quite a ball with this whole trick-or-treating thing.  We invited the family, ordered pizza, and made our way through our little neighborhood for treats-and-greets.

My Very Hungry Caterpillar from last year...

And my literary character creation this year...

Cruz was a licensed pro at trick-or-treating.  He was a big fan of the door bells, graciously accepted the candy in his pumpkin, and usually lingered at the doorstep as if he felt he needed to converse with them a little after just scoring their food.  When I asked him the 'what do you say?' question, he usually replied with 'pweese' instead of 'trick-or-treat,' but he soon found that this cute little gesture seemed to score him more treats.  He got the hang of it pretty fast, and our little Max had quite the adventure of his own in our wild little neighborhood.

 

After our neighborhood stroll, we had cupcakes and cider, watched The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown, and replaced costumes with pajamas.  Although one part of me was relieved I would no longer have to con my little squirt into wearing his costume, I was sad to store it away.  The magic was over, and next year, my baby would be one year older, one year closer to not trick-or-treating in cute snuggly costumes, and one year closer to middle school dances, Halloween parties, and games of Seven Minutes in Heaven.  Heaven help me...

A slew of pictures of our Halloween week ---

The littles...

Hayes, the happy penguin...

 

  

Charly, the great pumpkin...

   

Cruz, the wild thing (da na, na na na)...

   

Simple touches of the day become little traditions for me --- a clean living room and freshly vacuumed floor, roasted pumpkin seeds, and my big wicker basket of candy - used only one time a year...   

In honor of the little man's costume --- some homemade sack puppets to tell the tale of Max's magical adventure to the land where the wild things are...

Hope everyone had a wonderful Halloween night.  Here's to making our own magic in the month of November --- Happy Turkey Month, from one turkey to another :).