Earlier tonight I succumbed to this enormous bone-cracking yawn and peered outside our windows at the pitch-black evening, and I thought, man, it must be LATE. Then I realized it was 7:30.

I’m not sure I’m really ready for it to be, like, November. I love autumn but it’s going by way too fast, the days are getting shorter and shorter and I swear the leaves just started turning but they’re suddenly already half-gone, and were those Christmas ornaments I saw on display in the mall tonight, REALLY?

I had so many good intentions for going all out for Halloween this year; decorating the house and making all kinds of treats and carving at least three or four pumpkins, but somehow I blinked and what the hell, tomorrow’s the 31st.

We did manage to get one pumpkin carved:


The rest, well, maybe I’ll draw some faces on them with a marker or something.


I did send Riley to class today in his Old Navy DON’T LIE ABOUT THE CANDY shirt, which I hope counts as a Festive Holiday Craft.


Dylan wore his awesome MUMMY LOVES me outfit.


Wait, you seriously need a closeup of this onesie, it is just that goddamned cute.



Unfortunately, it came home in a sealed baggie today after he apparently pooped down a leghole this afternoon. (Those of you whose kids go to daycare, don’t you HATE those Baggies of Doom? Especially when they create a sort of horrible condensation on the inside of the bag, like some little weather system of disgustingness.)

Our Halloween plans for tomorrow involve me attempting to wrestle the children into their outfits, then taking them to JB’s work for trick-or-treating (his office decorates their halls and hands out candy to employees’ kids, which I always think must be fun for a certain percentage of workers, and a sheer living hell for the rest). Then maybe a quick stroll around our neighborhood in the evening, depending on whether Riley’s Into the Concept or Frantically Opposed to the Entire Thing.

I took photos of the kids’ costumes a while back in case everything goes to hell tomorrow:

A fist, a hand, hoocha hoocha hoocha . . . lobster!

Emo pirate.

After the kids go to bed, I’m going to force JB to watch 28 Days Later with me, and you bet your sweet chocolate-coated ass I’m going to be indulging in a LOT of this:


How about you? What’s on tap for your Halloween?

Yesterday morning at my workplace it was announced that due to celebrating some milestones, we were having a Game Day, meaning all employees were supposed to play board games, card games, pinball, pool, video games, computer games, or watch a movie (my office actually has facilities for all these activities and more; unbelievably, we develop productivity software), but no working was allowed.

I always feel out of sorts when my office does this. It’s not like it happens all that often, but I don’t really like playing games, and honestly, if I were going to have a chance to watch a movie during the day, I’d rather go to the theater. Plus, it’s never announced ahead of time, so I always feel annoyed for having gone through my normal hectic morning routine and wasted the time and gas on my commute, and if there was going to be no working required then I can sure think of about a million ways I’d rather spend my free time, none of which involve hanging around the office. I like my coworkers, don’t get me wrong, I just . . . don’t necessarily like spending more time at the office than I have to, you know? Basically, I’m a giant gift-horse-looking whiner who can’t enjoy a free day off. I know, sometimes even *I* can’t believe how much I suck.

Anyway, I spent some time chit-chatting, then went slinking out the door while the cacophony of pinball and the Star Trek arcade machine filled the air, and while I had very good intentions for heading directly home and tackling the monstrous amount of housework and laundry that had been piling up, then getting some freelance work done before getting the kids from daycare, I somehow found myself driving to H&M.

H&M is new to Seattle, and I’d never been there before (for the local yokels, I visited the University Village store). If you haven’t had the pleasure, it’s sort of like an upscale Old Navy, except with 150% less crappy styles. The whole place was stuffed with cute, cheap outfits, and I felt like I had been dropped into some magical fairyland where fashion was actually affordable and didn’t come with those big-assed PLEASE REMOVE BEFORE WEARING tags.

The only problem was the sizes. The majority of the available inventory was in size XS, which seemed about the right fit for Dylan, if he maybe skipped a few YoBaby meals. There was a lot of inconsistency in the numbered sizing, too, which resulted in a frustrating dressing-room experience as I crammed myself into one skirt that fit like a sausage casing, then another in the same exact goddamned size which drooped halfway to my knees. Whiskey tango foxtrot, H&M?

Still, I had a totally pleasurable childfree afternoon browsing around, and even bought a few spiffy new things, including a much-needed dressy winter coat, before heading home to the laundry and projects and children. It may not have been what Workplace intended in terms of employee morale-building, but I guarantee I had just as much fun as my fellow employees who spent eight hours playing Rock Band.

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