Here we are in November, and only now do I get to October. You know it’s been a while since a post went up when your own father harasses you, via Facebook of all things, to get to writing. Mainly we’ve been tied up with the minutia and downright ridiculousness that is trying to buy a house. For over a month, we’ve looked, fallen in love, made an offer, “negotiated,” and inspected a house — only to discover its bad roof and our bad luck. But that’s a story for another time.

Otherwise, October was lovely. It rivals March for my favorite month of the year. Mostly it has something to do with autumn and Halloween and the advent of cooler weather, which we are currently experiencing with much affection.

And as it does for many, October involved pumpkins, many gorgeous orange pumpkins from which Wes could pick for the first time ever:




So that was a first for Wesley, and a first for me, too! I helped Craig scoop out our chosen ones but let him do all the knife work for our jack ‘o lanterns. Sadly we carved them way too early for our weather, and they barely made it to Halloween.

For Halloween, we dressed Wesley up as triceratops, seeing as how they discovered this year that apparently, triceratops didn’t even exist and was really a juvenile torosaurus. Or maybe torosaurus didn’t exist and they’re all triceratops (triceratops was labeled first, after all). Whatever. We just wanted to honor the discovery in our own small geeky way. Wesley wasn’t too keen on the idea himself. He heartily objected to triceratop horns, and they lasted upon his head about, oh, all of 2 minutes, barely long enough for a handful of photos:



Not helping things out is the fact that our son seems to have a ridiculously long torso. The bottom length seemed fine on his 36″ giant body, but we barely got the top part to reach up to his shoulders. At least he didn’t have an option on the tail, looking adorable going as well as coming.


He couldn’t completely wrap his head around the whole trick or treating business, but he made it to a few doors by following after our friends’ children, after making out with their Mickey Mouse doll as a totem of protection that is.

We even (gasp!) let him have lollipops along the way, which was quite the experience. The first one he received, he immediately placed in his mouth — still wrapped. The second, he couldn’t figure out, and his father had to break off little pieces and feed them to him like a baby bird, which is both endearing and disgusting. The third he got the hang of, only to discover at the end that, how could it be?, the stick remained but the candy itself was GONE. And this realization was so incredibly devastating to our gentle son, that he broke into a most pitiful sorrowful cry, where his mouth opened wide and trembled, but nary a sound could makes its way out at first, so painful was his discovery. So I don’t know what was sadder, the fact that we let our young son have candy for the first time or watching him learn such a seemingly inconsequential and yet, for him, painful lesson.


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