Friday Night

Originally, this post was about the costumes that Jack was wore on Friday (pirate), Sunday (fireman) and Monday (Power Ranger). But this is the only picture from Friday, and as you can see, "pirate" was just one of many layers.

The short version of this new post is: That's my purse wrapped in a plastic bag in the basket of my bike.

Long version? The plan for Friday night was to bike to the CU Homecoming parade, then drop Luke off at a birthday party at the bowling alley on campus, then bike to Pearl Street and have dinner, then bike back to get Luke, hang out, and then bike home. It was a great plan, a plan that I LOVED. Until it started raining. Then I started thinking... you know what would be fun? Laundry. Laundry, and wine. Drive to campus... drop off Luke, etc. I floated the idea but Dave ignored me and continued to pack layers of clothes for the boys.

We were all in the garage getting on bikes when it really started to pour. Dave said it was never going to work, but I convinced him we should just ride our bikes to a parade in a downpour. (Or else, he possibly used reverse psychology to convince me to go. I know I yelled something like, "No, I want to stay home and do laundry, but I am being a good sport so LET'S GO!") We thought it was raining hard when we left the house but it got worse. Just as one of our friends was thinking to herself, "I must be completely insane to be biking home in this," she saw us coming in the opposite direction and cracked up.

Once we got to the parade, it stopped raining and the rest of the night went as planned, and was very fun. And the next morning, I got to brag about how hard core I am. I ran into a friend on Saturday morning and told her about our adventure. She said. "Wow! You guys are hard core!" I said, "Ummmmm..." And she said, "I mean, your guy is hard core." But I am a good sport.

The Holidays are Here, In All Their Confusion

The other day, we had the catcher and the vampire behind home plate. Today, Jack said, "'Member when Santa brought me that firehouse? I looked up and I saw him with his donkeys."

Countdown to Costume

Halloween is a week from today and the costume situation is making me nervous.

Luke plans to be a ninja, so I bought him a black hoodie today. Yup, that is as far as we have gotten. Fortunately we all do our best work under pressure. Well, I did also buy a pattern for sort of a generic boy superhero series, and I figured that would help us with the mask. (For which I have not purchased fabric.) And I am a little worried about dressing Luke in head to toe black and sending him out in the dark to run around the neighborhood. So I also bought glow sticks. Hopefully Luke can be talked into disco ninja or something.

As for Jack, I bought a fireman costume a month or so ago, because it was cute, and fleece, so I thought it would come in handy if it was cold. But it just got absorbed into the costume bin(s) and it isn't a front runner. Jack dresses in costume almost daily, so I guess getting candy for it will be what makes Halloween special for him. In fact, part of Jack's layered ensemble for biking to the homecoming parade in a torrential downpour on Friday night was a pirate costume. Today he was wearing a power ranger mask with his PJs and slaying bad guys, Boba Fett, the Emperor, and monsters in the basement. In fact, this post was originally going to be just his play monologue, but after I started typing it out, the post skewed more "mom lets her 2 year old watch too much violence on tv" than "hilarious mom has adorable and creative 2 year old."

As for Lucy, I was intrigued by the costumes at Target. Specifically the squirrel costume, but it was pointed out to me that it looks like, well, let's say it looks like a squirrel is riding on the dogs back. Also, I thought I should see how she like's being in costume before I spent too much money. So I got her a very modestly priced cape and she really wanted to eat it.

As for Dave and I, we don't have costumes yet. I was originally thinking of changing my hair and being Joan, but now I am thinking Liz Lemon is a little more realistic. I guess I just need to know if Dave is planning to be Roger Sterling, or Kenneth.

Where in the World is MetaMegan?

MetaMegan is having an existential work/life crisis, which makes for extremely boring blog posts. When I am at the computer, which is all the time, I feel the need to work. When I am not at the computer, I am not at the computer and therefore cannot blog.

Let me know if you want to be added to my newsletter, that I will be handwriting and running through the mimeograph, and then snail mailing. Or maybe I could blog from my phone... But the 1/R key doesn't work. And the keys are so tiny. Example: "On bus to Denve. New commute is going to suck. " Not exactly my best work.

Jack goes to a hippie daycare in Boulder, where they are very in touch with their feelings. That causes me to be extremely aware about how I feel about work because whenever I start talking about it at the dinner table, Jack says, "Are you mad, Momma? Sad? Angry? Frustrated? You gonna cry?" It's very insightful.

In other Jack news, he woke me up on Saturday by screaming, "MOMMA! GET OUT HERE AND MAKE ME BREFFAST!" That was at 7:00 am. Today, when my alarm was (not) set for 5:00 am, I woke up at 7:15 to giggles from the living room. Sigh.

Luke's school conference was today, and he's a perfect little gentleman and scholar. We ran into the art teacher in the hallway and she also said she loved him, and did we have any more at home? We said, "Yes, but..."

I thought about doing the thing where you write a novel during the month of November, but I think I'll put that off and do the thing where I blog every day in the month of November. My novel planning was going like this: Go to the farmers market with cute single friend. Notice farmers checking her out. Tell her, "In my novel, you'd fall in love with the gorgeous, brooding photographer/documentarian, but he'd be all wrong for you. All along you should have been with the smiling, friendly guy from the mushroom stand." And she said, "But I like the photographer." And I said, "Exactly. But he's wrong for you. You'll see in my novel." Then I realized my novel had already been written a thousand times, so I turned it into an anecdote on my blog. Then I showed some amazing restraint in not linking to the photographer and the mushroom guy. Then I remembered I was supposed to be working and at this rate I would never get to sleep.

It Must Be October

We were watching baseball and Jack said, "Behind the plate is the catcher and the Vampire."

Play D'oh! The Full Sensory Experience

The other day, Dave came to find me with Jack under his arm and said, "We have a situation. He stuck play doh up his nose."

My first thought was, "Thank GOD I put the search option on my blog!" Because I knew this had happened before, and I had some crazy idea that the worst case scenario was to suck the stuff out with your mouth, but that maybe my friend Mare had corrected that in the comments, and I should check before I did anything crazy like that, and I could search on "stuck in your nose" and the answer would be right there, but Dave would probably prefer if I just got it out instead of firing up my laptop, and before I was finished with this crazy thought rampage I had gotten most of it out with my beautifully manicured nail and the bulb sucker.

Dave didn't think the bulb sucker was working, so I resorted to the nail, while informing him that the bulb sucker was mostly just to torture Jack for putting something in his nose (exactly my same thought process as last time, and obviously not a real deterrent)

In the end, the bulb sucker did work to get it all out, once Dave was holding Jack down and I could really cram it in there.

I should also mention that as soon as Jack started playing with the play doh, (the day before) I saw him holding a mold very close to his face. He caught my eye and said, "You don't eat it?" I said, "No. You don't eat it." He said, "Just lick it?" I said, "No, you don't lick it." So he finally sighed and said, "Oh. You just smell it?" I said, "Yes, just smell it."

I had no idea how closely he planned to smell it.

Knock Knock

Luke has two books of knock knock jokes, and he frequently regales us with jokes. I always imagined there would be a time in our lives where the kids were obsessed with jokes and I was sort of annoyed and rolled my eyes all the time. But I pretty much laugh every time I hear a knock joke. So this phase is going much better than anticipated.

Dave picked up the book and told one to Luke:
Dave: Knock knock
Luke: Who's there?
Dave: Tyrone
Luke: Tyrone who?
Dave: Tyrone shoe laces!

Immediately Jack had to retell it.
Jack: Knock knock
Luke: Who's there?
Jack: Tyrome
Luke: Tyrone who?
Jack: Tyrome shoehandsomes.

His version is even better, but this one is my fave:
Jack: Knock knock
Luke: Who's there
Jack: Joke-uh
Luke: Joke-uh who?
Jack: Joke-uh Jack.
Jack (with a sigh): I love that one.