Halloween in the Sleepiest of Suburbs

Oh Halloween.

This is the trial of our "No Noggin" costume. This is the only thing the Personal Assistant has talked about all month-being No Noggin for Halloween. Our neighbor made him promise not to fall again asleep this year so he could see the spooky No Noggin costume.

It was a beautiful day, so we cleaned the car and decorated the porch in the afternoon. At one point, I ran in the house with Mr. Baby to change his diaper and came out to find The Personal Assistant rubbing baby powder into the freshly vacuumed upholstery "Look Mom! I made the car smell good!"

While I was cleaning that mess, the PA clipped a nearly full paint can to the dogs leash, (aka "The experiment rope") and then dangled it over the porch railing to lower it down to me in the garage in case I needed to paint. So helpful.

Then we took spooky pictures with our pumpkins.

It was super exciting.

Then Hubster left to pick up a pizza and this happened. (These photos were less than 10 minutes apart.)

We could not wake up the PA for nearly an hour. Mr. Baby ate pizza and watched as we shouted, danced around, tossed pillows and laundry at the PA. Nothing. We were panicked that it was going to be a repeat of last year when he literally got so excited for trick or treat he fell asleep mid-tantrum waiting at the door to go out.

Finally we stood him up to put him in the stroller. We got his undershirt on, he declared himself an octopus, said "octopus' wear snow boots!" And dashed out the door. He did the whole cul-de-sac by himself before Mr. Baby was dressed.

It wasn't pretty but we made it.

Afterward, they watched the "Great pumpkin" and ate a bunch of snack sized funyuns, pretzels, combos, and popcorn that Mr. Baby opened and discarded. Mr. Baby then began throwing popcorn at the PA's head and shouting "throw, throw" between time outs. He may or may not have learned that earlier in the evening.

While The Hubster put the boys to bed I busied myself with burning my fingers making dextrose popcorn balls. (I slept with an ice pack.)

After putting out the switch witch crap, I mean prizes, and calming a panicked boy who could not sleep due to 6 pm naps, ("yes, the switch witch will come, no you can't go down stairs, yes you do have to sleep,") I ran downstairs to hide the evidence that the switch witch shops at target and place her on the pile of crap, I mean loot, to find this:

She was fine a few hours earlier. Life is indeed short.

After many wake ups for fevers, hubby heart burn, and is-it-time-yets, we went to check out the switch witchery in the early, dark hours of morning. Day light savings time the night of Halloween is a male dominated Republican conspiracy. Apparently only "sick" Dads are allowed an extra hour.

For a little while it was peaceful while they dug through the crap, I mean treasures, and The PA made many sticker pictures and foam crafts. Mr. Baby meanwhile, opened every treat and had one bite of each, before 'hiding' the rest in the couch cushions for later. Then he started shouting "Be-Bo" and throwing foam shapes at his brother's head.

But only between time outs of course.

Stuff was stuck to walls.

I was fed four nerds before I realized they contained eggs (really?) and ran for the benydryl-because apparently it is not a party until I poison myself. And this happened:

Happy freakin' Halloween.
-Jen

 

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