Trick or treating begins.

Halloween is upon us and I got to debut Dash’s costume for the first time today.

Yes, he is an old-timey golfer. Since it is a battle every night to remove the ball and golf club from his hands before bed I figured if I could get him to wear the beret we had a costume without too much work.

The hat my grandmother got for me on a trip to Ireland when I was little. The knickers are girl’s tights cut and sewed to the bottom of a pair of his shorts.

We went trick or treating at Zach’s office today and it took about two offices for Dash to get the idea.

And then he went tearing down the hallways in search of more loot. He even took time to show off his swing.

No offense to the Iron men, puppies, and tiny bunnies, but my little old-timey golfer was pretty stinkin’ cute.

Just watch out for that back swing. And the follow through. And the 52 practice shots.

Where to begin…or pick back up…

I have been absent too long from my blog and I can’t decide what the reason is. It is not as my aunt guessed because I am pregnant. No, no, nononono. Do I protest too much? But seriously no babies here, just one toddler rapidly approaching boyhood.

As the same aunt asked, “How can you stand the cuteness?” To which I replied, “Seriously I almost can’t.” Seriously.

The real reason for my spotty performance is probably closer to what my mom’s friend said. That it has become an obligation to blog and just like any new thing it has lost some of its newness and therefore its appeal.

I have gone through phases of enjoying the blog and then seeing it as a duty and right now I think it is swinging closer to the latter. Some of the things going on in our lives right now are not things I want to talk about, but occupy a lot of my thoughts so it is hard to think of anything else to write.

One touchy topic is that our house has not sold yet. It is a hard thing to talk about because there isn’t really any advice anyone can offer that makes any difference. We surely want to sell our old house as soon as we can because two houses is no fun unless one of them is in Mexico or Colorado. And even then I am beginning to think that two mortgage payments weighs on your mind always. But the tricky part of all of it is that I still love that house. Our new house feels like our home, but that other one still feels like home too. It was our first home together and where we brought home our son. I stood in the doorway of the nursery and imagined what it would possibly be like to bring home our baby and I wept on the floor of that nursery when that baby didn’t sleep for more than three hours at a time for six months.

And of course the old house is filled with memories of our dog. Memories that will stay with that house because this house is filling with memories from life without a dog. That dog is doing well, by the way, attending book clubs, terrorizing a new neighborhood of squirrels and cats, and stealing warm, homemade cinnamon rolls off a new counter. I have started to think of Watson as Susie’s dog now which is wonderful and the pain of separating has subsided which is also wonderful. Life without him is better for us and life with Susie is better for him. Once we sell the house I will stop having to open the door and listen for his toenails on the tile in the kitchen and stop having the need to check the backyard to make sure I didn’t leave him out there. But then I won’t have those memories anymore and it is painful to think about being without them.

So, in other words, life is messy and complicated right now and there is no easy way out of the tricky bits.

But of course there is this:

and this:

and I understand why my mom was so pleased when she ordered a lapel pin that said, “meghan’s mom.” I know not to put my hope on him, or try to use him as a way to escape the messy parts of life, but I’m so thankful for him and every ounce of his being.

And now there is this:

little baby Bluma, my niece. And although I know that their lives are about to get…fantastically messy I am thankful that any of us get to be anyone’s parent. It feels great.

First family pumpkin patch trip.

Last fall when we had a 2-month-old Dash, it seemed like an insurmountable outing to go to a pumpkin patch. I thought about taking him to the grocery store and tossing him – gently – onto a pile of pumpkins to get a good fall shot for posterity, but I was too consumed with the search for sleep to get very far away from my house. (Today I happened to find “the notebook” in which I recorded all of his intake and outtake, so to speak, for way to long and saw just exactly how little sleep I was getting one year ago today.) Oh well…next time I’ll spend less time recording and more time experiencing…maybe…

Anyway, here he is from last year:

And here he is at nearly 14 months:

Neither Zach nor I remember having a pumpkin patch tradition with our families growing up. I don’t know if we will keep this an annual tradition with our family either, but it was a good time. The weather was beautiful, kids were more plentiful than pumpkins, and there were wood cutouts to stick your head through.

Zach said his quintessential pumpkin path trip needed a hay rack ride which we got on the way to the pumpkin field – minus the hay.

And we got one potentially inappropriate photo thanks to Zach. We took turns with the camera and this is what he captured in amongst the pumpkins.

Zach says it looks like Dash is checking out Miss Tutu. I was like, yes, he is because he has no idea what a tutu is, but Zach says, no, he is checking her out. Like I said, potentially inappropriate depending on your interpretation.

Zach and I enjoyed taking some time to have fun as a family and judging by the way Dash fell fast asleep that night I think he did too.

Oh, and we stopped at the Olathe Oklahoma Joe’s on the way home where this happened:

That is one tiny little hand stealing back his french fries off my plate.