You all should be receiving your Christmas Card in the next couple of days. Being that this is a task of such biblical scale (if memory serves, it took somewhere between 40 days and 40 nights to actually get through this process), I wondered if the theme of the card should actually revolve around the photo process as opposed to the photo outcome. I also thought it would be interesting for those of you who might be naive enough to think that I get these magical moments in one shot. Enjoy.
Category Archives: Holidays
AKA: travel.
The Gathering of the Tree
Considering we bought our tree the absolute first day of the month of December, this post is coming a little late, but at least this year’s did not include a spitting angry 3-year-old. Instead, Stella was in good spirits, and it didn’t take us long to pick out a sweet little tree. That said, if you saw this family coming would you get in their way?
The giving of the thanks, in 5 words.
- TracBall: Yet another vintage piece of inventory from the Walston game arsenal.
- Tractors: As in, when you hear Porter bellow Gactahhhhh!! you either haul him out to sit on the lawnmower, or listen to him scream endlessly. Actually, same goes for when he asks for your keys, or to play in your car. Yet another reminder as to how no one is strong enough to tangle with The Angry.
- Crossword Puzzles: The Junior/Senior Walston Team, are one Sunday Times puzzle from going professional
- Water: Embedded deep in the DNA of the Walston male is an irrational fear of any messes involving water, and so I find it ironic that Porter’s favorite activity these days is standing at the kitchen sink dumping cups of water all over himself, the floor and the immediate surrounding area. Life span reduction amount for both husband and father-in-law: 3.5 years.
- Repetition: Stella watched Charlotte’s web on continual loop for the entire duration of every stretch of travel, with the only complication arising when she chewed through the cord on her earphones. Channeling Templeton the rat, no doubt.
Or you can review things in the 1000-word configuration…
Of Royalty and Reptiles
Halloween this year had a slightly different tone for many reasons, one of them being that this was the first year that my mother did not meticulously plan and execute Stella’s costume. Instead she listened to Stella’s adamant request for CINDERELLA WITH LADYBUGS! and promptly purchased a pre-fab Cinderella get-up, and a bunch of iron-on ladybug patches and appliqués. Patches and appliqués that never got actually applied because, well, because that was my part of the process, and do I look like I have time to sew? Thankfully the dress/crown set-up was enchanting enough that she pretty much forgot all about the ladybugs. It also probably helped that I hid them.
And so she wore it, and wore it and wore it. She wore it so much that by the time the actual day of Halloween came around the dress was covered in grass stains and dirt and chocolate milk. And because of it’s high quality, it was recommended that it not to be washed, but to be wiped clean. Let’s just say that there was no amount of wiping that was going to make this thing whole again. Thankfully, she was agreeable to wearing the cape I made for her for Christmas a couple of years back. It worked on two levels: one was that she wasn’t forced to wear a dorky turtle-neck under her glamorous princess gown, but it also covered up a better part of the stains. We did have to make a trade-off on the orange leggings, alas.
Porter’s costume ended up being off the shelf as well, which is actually a smart course of action for a kid who, of late, can rarely can be counted on to be cooperative. Getting him into any kind of costume at all was a dicey proposition. This is a kid who has made it clear that he, and he alone, will decide when it is appropriate to change his diaper, get him dressed, strap him into a carseat, sit in a high chair, or pretty much anything else that we may be so presumptuous to suggest might be in his best interest. You can see now how I could do nothing but smirk when I picked up Porter from day care today and was told that he sat at the big-kid table for lunch today because – and I quote: “He would have it no other way.” Such diplomacy, those folks. It would have been complete folly on our part to hang our expectations on any kind of costume that required extensive energy or financial resources. And so you can see how the 50%-off, one-piece, one-zipper dino-getup was exactly perfect.
As luck would have it, he was fairly cooperative, and even kept the hood on throughout both outings: the Boo at the Zoo day, and the regular rounds to the Arcata Plaza. You will note, however, that in each and every photo from Halloween night, he refused to ever let his regal feet touch thine mortal earth. Every time Steve would so much as lean his weight forward – even hinting that he was going to put him down, Porter would respond with his usual bellow of protest. As for the sucker, it was the only way we could keep him occupied enough not to dump the entire contents of his trick-or-treat bag – which he tried to do several times.
And now the yearly ritual of establishing the exponential rate of candy disappearance.
We’s gittin’ squarsh
Amongst other things, we managed to squeeze in a trip to the pumpkin patch over the weekend. It was pretty much a repeat of last year, excepting the fact that instead of Porter being carried around in the backpack without a coat on, this year he spent the majority of the time running around without any shoes on. About all we are missing is a family member named Cleetus, and a hound.