The Witchin' Hour

I love autumn, I really, really do, so I found my head filled with all kinds of fancy notions today. Halloween on a Saturday with hours to spend on autumn adventures!

My son went on a road trip with his dad, a tour of presidential libraries and barbecue joints throughout the midwest. They called from Wichita, KS at midnight, and Gage announced, "This is the nicest cheap hotel I have ever been to!" Today, they have Eisenhower and Truman on the agenda. So, he is off having his own adventures, which leaves me and my little witchy-boo...

She began the day by eating all the candy I had set aside for trick-or-treaters. That meant our first order of business would be to buy more candy. Ever frugal, I suggested that we instead use groceries we already have to make caramel apples and popcorn balls to take to loved ones within driving distance.

Niki: So, instead of going to people's houses and asking for candy, we would be bringing them some. :-)
Julie: Why would we ever want to do that?
Niki: That's the trick! Get it, trick or treat?

She didn't think it was funny, nor did she go for it. To her, the only option was clearly going to buy more candy and a costume for her and going trick or treating.

Niki: Where will we go? To see family? Your dad's neighborhood?
Julie: We'll go around right here in the apartment complex.
Niki: I don't know, Jules, we don't know hardly anybody here. What if we run into some bad people?
Julie: Then, we will eat them up. (runs off snarling and growling, sort of hissing, too.)

So, there we were in the costume aisle at Target, which is also where all the mean, crazy mamas go on Halloween morning, as it turns out. They like to ram their carts into people, run over children, and snatch things out of people's hands while they are talking complete crap on their cell phones about how the whole thing just got so messed up...it was just going to be a simple party with her son's girlfriend and a few of their friends and then all these other people who weren't invited started thinking they could come and then her mother said that she wouldn't let her go if XYZ was going to be there and blahblahblahblahblah in an irritating, whiny, nasal voice. How do I know the whole story? Because the damn thing followed me on every aisle from costumes to housewares. I couldn't get away from her, and she wouldn't shut up! I began to feel that I was actually the bad people and that I would indeed eat her quite up. So, when we were on the bath aisle, I threw a stack of Shabby Chic pink toile towels at her and ran off snarling, growling, and sort of hissing.

Anyway, Julie picked out an awesome little witch costume that I was wishing came in uber-witch size, but she ended up asking me if she could get the Liv Sophie doll instead.

Niki: WHAT?
Julie: I've been wanting her for soooo long, and I would only wear the costume one night. It probably won't fit next year.
Niki: I am stunned by your logic. But you won't have anything to wear trick-or-treating.
Julie: Eh, I really don't want to go.
Niki: Can I still make caramel apples and popcorn balls?
Julie: Whatevs. I'm not going to eat them, though. They're sticky, and my crown is loose.
Niki: Again with the logic! This is crazy. How old are you? Hey, wait a minute - you'll eat up bad people but popcorn balls will stick to your crowns?
Julie: Mo-o-om.

My suggestion of roasting spaghetti squash and eating it out of the shell with marinara sauce "like guts!" got a similar response. Butternut squash and lentil stew were boring. Baked apples with cinnamon and nutmeg got nothing but rolled-eyes. We drifted apart while I was looking for the lavender soap, but I found her loading up on free samples at an endcap.

Julie: Mom, we have GOT to get some of this gingerbread apple dip and these sea salt & caramel things.
Niki: Yay, finally some apples!
Julie: You are so weird.

Maybe so, but I was smiling as I loaded up a bag of honeycrisp apples.

While driving home, I tried to think of some ways to mark this magnificent harvest holiday with something more seasonal than plastic dolls from Target and fabulous fatty, creamy spiced dip. (But really, those are great in every season, right?)

Niki: Hey! I bet the Botanical and Japanese gardens have some beautiful fall colors right now!
Julie: Mo-o-om, I don't wanna go to the bucanical gardens...
Niki: (laughs) What?
Julie: I just want to go home and show Bridget to Kamba, Aswad, and Daphil.
Niki: Sambo, Asswad, and who? I don't know any of those people, and you should not talk like that. Where do you get this rascist filth?
Julie: NO, Mo-o-om, our neighbors from Chad,** my friends that I walk home with every day! ggrrr!
Niki: Okay, so who is Bridget?
Julie: My Liv Sophie doll - she looks like Bridget from Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants. I already have Tibby, so now I just need Carmen and Lena.
Niki: Well, I'm going to take a nice hot bath with Tom's of Maine and Trader Joe.
Julie: WHAT?
Niki: (haha, got her with her own name game) My lavender soap and salt scrub.
Julie: Then can we watch Twilight?
Niki: Sounds like a plan, witchy-boo.
Julie: (sighs) You are so weird.

Since none of these experiences resulted in the Fall Festival of photos for which I had hoped, I will throw in a few pictures I stole from my co-worker Scott Parker. He shot these while in Massachusetts last week...






And by the way, my little tomcat Grimriddell refused to wear his costume...

**These people are actually very, very nice, and I am going straight to hell for joking about their names.

Day 3

Happy Mothers Day!

The kids and I went to lunch (after an interesting drive through Northside, the Stockyards, Downtown, the Cultural District, an unidentified area, and University Park while looking for the restaurant at which I had a gift card) and then we spent a few hours browsing in the bookstore because that is something we all like to do.
First, though, I tortured them by making them behave in Williams Sonoma and Pottery Barn. They got back at me back acting like dingbats at the Botanic Garden. I am quite sure I am the only mother there today who threatened to beat the hot pee out of her children (almost silently through gritted teeth, of course.)
I did say it out loud, however, when we were in the car and they were making chicken/Wookie noises all the way home. They pointed out that their racket could not be distracting my driving all that much since they had been absolutely silent while I parallel parked the car with the rear wheel 31 inches from the curb and the front tire slightly on top of it.
It was a very fun day, though, and since they are my kids, I really cannot expect them to behave any other way. Here is a bit of what our day looked like...

Sunday Snapshot

A night alone with myself in the dark, and I slept like a stone. The sunbeams peeping through the blinds politely woke me, along with my cat jumping into my solar plexus rather impolitely. Simple luxuries gilded the morning: brewing coffee with cinnamon sifted into the ground beans, sipping slowly in the crisp, post-freeze air, watching the steam rise and the feeding birds take flight. Finally feeling awake for the first time in a couple of weeks, I ripped the house apart in a cleaning frenzy. I scrubbed, laundered, dusted, swept, vaccuumed, and tidied myself into order along with my surroundings.
With all accounted for, I stepped out into the world and wandered. I did some grocery shopping and some price comparing, and I browsed through my favorite stores. My sister-in-law who lived in the Dijon region once told me the French word for window-shopping translates to "window-licking," and I think that is so much more accurate. I window-licked until my tongue felt nimble and my eyes were bright.
My daughter called for me to come get her. Her visits with her dad are usually shorter than the allotted time, and I will just enjoy it while I can. Someday, she will covet every moment out of my embrace, at least for a time, but for now I will hold her and love her all she wants.
We cooked Chinese food and lamented allergy season while watching cartoons and folding the laundry. When I brought out the camera to take a few shots of the hibiscus that sprouted in fond appreciation of being brought inside during the cold snap, she mugged and posed for me...hugging the cat, sniffing the flowers, looking goofy, and smiling her freckled face. Never have I seen such a tough and beautiful love than what lives in her. It is like going back in time and watching a world conquerer as a vulnerable youngling. The rest of the world will probably never see the tender, loving heart that I watch with joy and awe each day.
"I'll keep the door unlocked," she calls as I carry the trash out.
"No, go ahead and lock it," I shout back unexpectedly. I see the look of confusion on her face, but I will explain when I get back that I don't want everyone within hearing range to know she is alone with the door unlocked even for the 2.5 minutes it will take me to carry the trash to the bin. Every second counts in her young life.
As I round the wall of the bin, I surprise two boys. They are probably 12 years old and have tucked themselves away in this nasty crevice for the sake of privacy. I excuse myself demurely and look away while I toss the bags, pretending not to hear the tall one ask his cell phone, "Stephanie, which one of us do you love?" as his friend squats hopefully beside him.
The rest of the day will be harder, but good in a fought-for way. KW has finally agreed to divorce on good terms, and he will go over paperwork with me when he brings my son home. Earlier, I watched my son's tears fall when he asked, "So, you are going ahead with the divorce?" Either out of cowardice or kindness, I answered, "This is just paperwork, honey. Nothing is really different than it has been. Your dad has your house, and I have your apartment, and you are free to be either place any time you want. Your dad and I will keep trying to get along, and we will always take care of you kids and love you. Just paperwork, sweetheart." I did not explain how much hope and strength this paperwork would give me. My fortification is my business.