Home, Sweet Home

We got back from our Thanksgiving trip on Saturday and it has taken me a full two days to recover. Why, you ask? Here's a quick recap of the driving portion of our trip: "Mama! Stuck! All done car. All DONE car! ALLLL DOOOONNNNNEEE CAAARRRR!!!! Stuck! Stuck! Stuck! Mama! Stuck! Mama! Stuck. ALL DONE STUCK. Ouchie. Ouchie, stuck! Mama, ouchie, stuck! ALL DONE OUCHIE!" Holy cow, why did we think teaching this kid to talk would be a good thing?

(In his defense, he was sitting on a pencil for a couple of hours, which could've explained some of the ouchies.)

So. I'm pretty sure we're never taking a long-distance trip anywhere, ever again. Or at least, not a long-distance DRIVING trip. (Because obviously, the trip to INDIA later this month is going to go great. Yes, it will. Yes, IT WILL.)

I think that other than all the whining and complaining about being stuck in his carseat, the hardest part of the trip was finding food he would eat. Now, Luke is not a particularly picky eater, but he's not a fan of "kid foods," either. You know. Hamburgers. Chicken Nuggets. French fries. Mac'n'cheese. He far prefers a nice, thin-crust pizza fired in a brick oven. Or, say, some slices of ginger and salmon eggs from someone's sushi platter. Or even some black beans and rice with veggie sausage. But kid's menus don't really have those as options. Kid's menus have burgers, nuggets, and fries.

Luckily for us, every restaurant in Mississippi apparently has fried shrimp and/or catfish on the menu, which is on the current list of Best Food Ever, because otherwise, I'm pretty sure the kid would've starved over the past week.

Parting Bullets

• We're leaving later today to spend Thanksgiving week with McMoose's family. Wait. Let me say that again. We're leaving later today TO DRIVE FOR 15 HOURS so we can spend Thanksgiving week with McMoose's family. With a Luke in the back seat. Whoo.
• Yesterday, we got to visit with McMoose's college roommate, which was fun. I know life is different now for all of us and that we're all grown-ups now, as opposed to the grown-ups-on-training-wheels that we were just a few short years ago, but the differences always amaze me when we get together with someone we haven't seen in a while.
• Baby related things from yesterday: (1) Other Baby rode Luke around like a horse. It was a fun game to watch, if only because I love to watch the two of them interact and play together more, rather than just wandering around and taking toys from each other. (2) Other Baby fits in a cabinet in our entertainment center. I know this because he very carefully folded himself into said cabinet, only to have Luke come by and shut the door. And hold it closed. And lick the outside of the glass door in a show of dominance and grossness. Other Baby promptly proceeded to freak out because after all that effort, he basically got to have a flashback of his time in the womb. I wonder if incidents like this is how claustrophobia gets its start.
• I hope everyone has a wonderful thanksgiving and we'll "see" you in a week!
  

R-E-S-P-E-C-T

As Luke and all his little friends get more verbal, I keep bumping into the issue of respect. Particularly respect in addressing adults. I was brought up addressing all adults as Uncle So-and-so and Aunt Such-and-such. That sounds normal to my ears. The Mr. or Mrs. paired with someone's last name also sounds normal, if somewhat formal, to my ears. You know what doesn't sound normal? Miss or Mr. FIRSTname. Actually, it drives me to distraction when someone refers to me as Miss Anisha. Literally--I stare blankly at them for a moment before realizing that they're referring to me.

Here's the thing. I was Miss Anisha at the daycare. I was fine with being Miss Anisha at the daycare. But now? I no longer work at a daycare. I'm not an authority figure for anyone else's kids (well...I guess with the exception of Other Baby, but he mostly tends to refer to me as "Mmgbrf.") And as a non-authority figure, I'd really prefer just being called Anisha. Or "Luke's mom." Or even, "Hey, you there." Seriously. THAT'S how much I dislike being "Miss Anisha."

I guess the most respectful way of introducing your kids to someone--child OR adult--would be to ask that person how they'd like to be addressed. In fact, I've done that a few times and everyone I asked preferred just their first names. So...why is this Miss FirstName thing so popular? And also, if other people get to dictate what THEIR kids call me, does that mean that I then should be dictating what MY kid calls them? Because if that's the case, I'd just introduce them by their first name. Or should I be asking them? Or should I just guess based on how they introduce me to their kids?

Maybe I'll just start teaching him to refer to people by a random color-number combination. Red-two, blue-fifteen, that kind of thing. At least then, I'll feel like I'm living in a spy movie.

True Colors

Four years of living in the mountains of Virginia ruined me because the mountains are BEAUTIFUL. All the time. And other places, through no fault of their own, really can't compare to all that natural beauty. At least MOST OF THE TIME, they can't. Today was one of those rare days when Raleigh was every bit as gorgeous as Blacksburg ever was.

For the past five years of living here, I haven't seen much in the way of fall foliage. Up until now, fall in Raleigh has gone something like this: green leaves on all the trees-->a big thunderstorm with lots of wind-->bare, dead-looking twig-trees. So I was very pleasantly surprised when I was driving home from story time this morning to discover that we have fall colors! FINALLY! In fact, I had to remind myself a couple of times that I had two very precious, small people in the car and that I should QUIT LOOKING AT THE TREES and pay attention to the road instead.

Here's hoping that the colors stick around for a few days. It's nice to get the reminder that a mountain view isn't the only one worth having.

Halloween

Around here, Halloween lasts for an entire week. First, there was the pumpkin carving:

And then, the pumpkin painting:

Then, Costume Trial #1, which ended in a tantrum:

Costume Trial #2, which ended in Luke testing whether the monkey would be allowed to touch things that are typically off limits. The answer, to his great disappointment, was no.

And finally, Trick-or-Treating! It was a great success, in part because we bribed him with strawberries. Who needs candy when you have FRUIT!

Apparently, Monkeys don't like having their pictures taken with their Daddies:

Or their Mamas:

Corn Maze

About a month ago, I decided it was about time to start some Autumn Family Traditions, so we took our first annual trip to the corn maze. Fun times were had by all. By which I mean that they had tons of tractors, so Luke had a great time and McMoose and I got to have some friendly, loving...um...discussion about the right way to go through a corn maze. I still hold that the RIGHT way to do it is to go down each and every path, even if you know it's not the one that'll lead you out. After all, you're paying to walk through corn. You might as well get the most out of it. (McMoose seems to believe that the point is to get out as quickly as possible. Poor, misled soul.)

Luke wasn't impressed by the slide.

Or the swing.

But the hay maze was new and interesting.

And so was the corn maze.

The next Magellan.

And then, there was the hayride. Also known as THE CROWNING GLORY. For the first five minutes, anyway:

Daredevil in the Brown Leather Shoes

It's picture time! Since I have three months worth of pictures, I'm breaking them up into multiple posts over the next few days. Here's Batch One: The Truly Random.

Imagine my surprise the first time I caught him on top of his play kitchen. Of course, like any good Mama, instead of freaking out and telling him to get down at once lest he break his neck, I ran for the camera.

Behold the mischievous grin:

The gratuitous what-color-are-his-eyes picture:

The kid has some growing to do before he can fill my shoes: