This year someone carved her entire pumpkin by herself. The other one dictated what he wanted and insisted His People take care of the details.
Category Archives: Holidays
AKA: travel.
Super P & Princess Clam Boobies
So you already had a preview of Stella’s confection of a costume, however you’ll notice I didn’t make much to do about Porter’s selection for this year. And if you guess that it’s because he would have nothing to do with THE COSUME HE SPECIFICALLY REQUESTED then you’d be absolutely correct. While Stella was busy wallowing in the glamorous sparkle of her costume, Porter was standing on the other side of the table looking at his spiderman-with-a-cape ensemble as though we were suggesting he dress up as a turnip. Un-uh. The less seasoned Natalie would have been begging and cajoling him to wear the get-up. The Natalie who has been around the block with this a time or two simply shrugged and walked away. Lesson learned: the most unsuccessful way to get Porter to do ANYTHING is to ask him to do it. Better to let him come around to this one one his own.
I have struggled with this a lot with Porter – the epic power struggles. Then, in a momentary vision of clarity, I realized that there are two realities I am stuck between. Pushing Porter to conform to the role I want him to be, or allowing and embracing the role that he chooses for himself. I first realized this with his haircuts – as in the ones he refuses to get. Picture day at his school was approaching and the inclination to force a haircut for the good of the photo began to take over the household. Somewhere in the middle of one of those meltdowns in the middle of the salon, it occurred to me – these pictures are supposed to capture our kids to remember them at that exact point in their life. Why would I want to sanitize the memory by eliminating the pieces and parts that really represent who he is at two and a half years old? A cute little blondie would rather eat glass than get a professional haircut, has reduced his entire wardrobe down to three shirts and two pairs of “working pants”, refuses to wear shoes, and recently insisted that I rub off the pizza-gobblin tattoo and re-apply a new one on the top of his forearm. Almost all of which are fully represented in this year’s school picture. Oh, and there is also the part where he wouldn’t sit for a picture by himself, so Porter’s school picture includes his big sister.
All of this to explain that when you look through these pictures and see Porter wearing street clothes and a pair of swim sandals along with a red and blue silk cape you’ll know why we couldn’t have imagined a more successful Halloween. And not to brag, but guess who actually walked and spoke to people as well? Photographic evidence to follow.
Body Language
This lovely frock arrived last Friday. As you can see, she is trying to keep herself from exploding into a glittery pile of Disney princess micro-particulates. Even the graininess of the photo doesn’t mask the raging boil of joy that erupted the moment she slid into it’s iridescent embrace. Saying she loves this costume doesn’t even come close to covering it. When she talked to Dore on the phone that afternoon and proclaimed that this was her best day ever, she was clearly not. even. kidding.
Pumpkin Patch ’08
Year 8: Coming Home
Today is Steve and I’s 8th wedding anniversary. 8 years. We are officially at that point in our relationship where there aren’t a whole lot of surprises. In fact, I would be willing to wager that if we were to enter the guess-what-your-doorknob-touching-spouse-is-going-to-say-next tourney, we’d be easily advancing to the finals about now. It’s that point in marriage where we know each other’s bizarre, yet predictable idiosyncratic ways. That point when you eerily start looking like one another. And accordingly, it is that point where sometimes we need to reassure one other that yes, we will be coming home at the end of the day.
Instead of adhering to one of the traditional/modern gifts, we opted for the more abstract theme of ink. More specifically, we got tattoos. Steve settled on his artwork pretty quickly, however I spent a ridiculous amount of time searching for the unfindable. Typical. So, after spending the better part of 2 months searching for the Loch Ness Monster of tattoo artwork, I re-focused my search, and settled on something that worked pretty nicely in terms of beauty and meaning.
As it ended up, Steve and I both went with artwork including swallows. The significance of the swallow in tattoo artwork has become almost cliché, however it was that retro component that we both found appealing. When in doubt, go back to the beginning. And, among other things, swallows are a symbol of loyalty, fidelity and coming home. Because in the end, I always will.