I’m going to go on record and say that I THINK we have fully recovered from Halloween, the time change, and trick-or-treating. In other words, the trifecta for a weekend of tears and snot and strong coffee.
I’m fairly certain that when Thing 2 got up this morning, he grinned and said, “I kind of just beat my previous Early Riser record, didn’t I?” And then there was some fist-pumping amid the requests for candy for breakfast, while I shuffled off to the kitchen and tried to get my eyeballs to focus on adding water to the Keurig.
Personally, I am SO OVER the bucket o’ Halloween loot, because Thing 2 has been pre-gaming with six Hershey’s miniatures, before he demands Lucky Charms for breakfast. It’s why the chocolate was all hidden today when he wasn’t looking, in the cabinet above the refrigerator, that no one in our house can reach without a ladder. It takes so much effort to get to it now, even I’m leaving it alone and ignoring the siren song of the peanut butter cup.
The other challenge that we’re facing is surviving the dark evening, as we try to fill it with engaging activities to keep the preschooler from toppling over and falling asleep on the floor at 5:30 PM. If that happens, he just looks up and says, “Hey! An eight-minute nap! I am so refreshed!” Hubs and I know that this only leads to us being awake with him until midnight, so we are diligently keeping him busy, so he can’t think about how much his un-napped self would enjoy a tiny dinnertime snooze.
Last night, I asked Hubs, “Is it 6:30 now?” He laughed and said, “It’s 5:30. It’s ONLY 5:30.” I wanted to cry, because 5:30 is a MINIMUM of two hours away from an acceptable PUT THING 2 TO BED TIME, if we have any hopes of him sleeping through the night. So, at 5:30 yesterday, I brought out a pumpkin to carve, because listen: OUR KID IS THREE. HE HAS NO IDEA THAT HALLOWEEN IS OVER. Since the squirrels ate his first pumpkin on our front steps, I bought him a $4 replacement squash at the grocery store.
Carving pumpkins is not really my thing. I’m not an enormous fan of it, and let me tell you this: I have zero-point-zero patience, when it comes to all the fancy carvings that people do, with great works of art depicted on the fronts of their pumpkins.
I’m more of a straight-up, triangle-eyes, triangle-nose, and a-few-square-teeth sort of pumpkin carving expert.
I tried to recruit the boy to join us, as I told him, “It’ll be a moment of family bonding, and you can cut the face out!” Sadly, the boy shook his head and said, “Mom, it’s NOVEMBER. Let Halloween die already.”
I really didn’t mean to carry my least favorite holiday of the year over into the new month, but WE NEED A SENSORY ACTIVITY TO KEEP THE PRESCHOOLER ALERT UNTIL 7:30 PM, BECAUSE HE’S FADING FAST!
That’s when I asked Hubs if HE wanted to join us for a little family activity of LET’S CARVE A PUMPKIN, but Hubs decided to play his PASS card, because the Denver Broncos were on.
And that, people, is why Thing 2 and I enjoyed a totally non-Pinterest-worthy evening by ourselves.
I thought our little guy would be plum thrilled to scoop all the guts out and engage in HELPING ME, but then this happened:
That would be a minuscule glob of pumpkin slime on his arm, that sent him into a full-on scream that is usually reserved for folks who are being chased by a colony of angry bees with sharpened stingers.
And THAT was the end of the preschooler having anything to do with reaching his hand into the pumpkin, which is why I gutted and carved that beast all by myself, exactly like a great hunter would have done in the woods.
What Thing 2 WAS interested in was stirring the bowl of slop with a spoon, being sure to keep the goop a respectable distance away from his skin.
I know you’ll want to pin it to your Halloween board on Pinterest.
In other words, we still had an hour and ten minutes to kill before we could even begin thinking about pushing Thing 2 towards bed. So, I pulled out the big guns. I had found an old glow stick earlier this week in a box of picnic supplies, and I hauled that thing out for him. He had never seen one before, so I showed him how you snap it and shake it, and LOOK! IT GLOWS!!!
I told him repeatedly that we couldn’t TURN IT OFF, so he laid down on the floor and bawled, because his mother wouldn’t turn the light off, and why was his life so hard?!
I’m thinking the three hundred miles he ran trick-or-treating the night before and the seventeen pounds of Hershey’s miniatures he ate were fueling that meltdown.
But then… his happy personality returned (Which I promise was not prompted by threats to sell him on eBay, if he didn’t QUIT CRYING THIS SECOND!), and he decided that he could use the glow stick as a microphone.
I have it on film, which I’m happy to share with you.
Please note that I blame Hubs fully for this concert display, which I filmed in the dark with my iPhone, because I know nothing about producing quality movies. Hubs, you see, has shown Thing 2 entirely too many AC/DC videos, so the kid has picked up some stage moves.
All he’s lacking in this video is a good mic drop… and maybe a guitar smash as the grand finale.
Please pray for us as the Spirit leads. We may be in trouble with this one.
Happy Monday, y’all. May you make it to bedtime easily.