My Favorite Things About Halloween

I always get a sugar pumpkin at Burt's Farm to make a honest-to-goodness, from scratch pie.  It's a little messy, but so good.

It's not a short process.  You cut open the pumpkin and clean it out.  It takes a while and my hand is always killing me when I'm done.  The receipe doesn't mention it, but you don't want to do this in your favorite white blouse....not that I know this from experience.  Place cut sides down  in shallow baking dish with small amount of water.  (You'll know if you don't have enough water, because you're kitchen will begin smelling like something is burning- again not because I know this because of personal experience.)  Cook at 350 degrees until tender.  Scoop out cooked pumpkin.  I find the skin just pulls off.  Whatever works for you.

I'd like to share with you my favorite recipe.  It comes, of course, right out the recipe book from Burt's Farm.

1 c cooked pumpkin (see above)              1 cup sugar

1 c milk                                                         2 eggs

3 tablespoons plain flour                          1/2 stick butter

1 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon                         1/4 teaspoon ginger

1/4 teaspoon nutmeg                                1/4 teaspoon cloves

1 pie shell

Mix sugars, flour, cinnamon, ginger, nutmeg and cloves together.  Set aside.  Mix cooked pumpkin, milk, eggs, and melted butter together.  Pour pumpkin mixture into pot.  Pour sugar mixture into pumpkin mixture.  Stir until completely blended.   Cook on the top of the stove on medium heat, stirring constantly to keep from sticking.  After mixture becomes thick, pour into pie shell.  Bake pie on 350 degrees for 30 minutes, or until center of pie rises.  Cool before cutting.

I

It's a lot of work, but so worth it.  Even the little guys like it.

I also love the smells of each season.  My favorite Yankee Candle for Fall is Spiced Pumpkin.

Of course last but certainly not least, is trick or treating with the boys.  James decided he was too old, too cool or something this year.  Christopher on the other hand spent a lot of time on his costume.  I think he did an excellent job with his Indiana Jones costume.  We had a wonderful time together - we hooked up with a few friends we knew from baseball who chose to dress up as girls.  I think that Christopher even more adorable.

Mature Readers Only-L

About a year ago, I had one of those moments with James where I just about bust a gut trying not to laugh.  In the end I did laugh.  Until I cried.  There was a bit of mystery and intrigue around it that was not solved until this morning.  It seemed like a perfect story to share with my dear friends and relatives that share this blog with me.  I asked Christopher if he thought I should share the story.  His quick answer was "Yes because it's not about me."  So, I feel quite justified in proceeding. (OK,  I did ask James who wasn't quite as sure but did give did finally give the ok because I think he now feels vindicated.)

When James first started riding, he endured some of the ailments that all riders endure.  One of them is a sore bottom.  As I was tucking him in one night, he sheepishly said "Mommy, I think I have Monkey Butt."  (I can't help but smirk even now as I type this.)  "Monkey butt?" I asked.  "I don't think I know what that is."  He very seriously said that he had read about it, but couldn't remember the treatment for it.  That was the point where I just lost it.  He couldn't remember where he read it, but he was sure he had read it and was sure it was a medical condition.  James reads a lot so it was hard to doubt him, but Monkey Butt?

Of course, I immediately had to go tell Keith and we both laughed.  Even James finally chuckled about it because we were laughing so hard.  The year has passed and I forgot all about it.  This morning James was in my room and noticed a catalog on my floor.  "This is it!  This is where I read about Monkey Butt."  He quickly flipped through it and behold,

Well, of course, Monkey Butt.  It's right here in black and white.  In the very faint print it even mentions bikers.  What is it they say?  The joys of boys?

Just Life

Well, I'm a little late in getting around to this week/weekend's blog.  As I read back over this, it has ended up being a fairly random, stream of consciousness blog.  I guess the week's events have done that to me.  Due to poor advance planning on my part, I was in New York the past two days.  I really should have thought about the financial world nearing crisis before I planned the trip a few weeks ago.  Fortunately, Morgan Stanley seems to be faring the storm as well as one could ask.  But to more interesting matters, the weekend was pretty crazy since Keith went to see his mom.  Weekend before last would have been their anniversary and he wanted to spend it with her, but with triathlons, etc, etc, etc, he just couldn't get away.

So, that meant that I had the wonderful opportunity of getting up at 5:30 AM to take James to a 50 mile ride.  Not that I have anything against taking James to 50 mile rides - I actually think it's cool that he does those.  It's just that, well, I'm not a morning person.  Ok, that's an understatement.  I hate getting up in the morning - really despise it.  One day James will really appreciate that I got up at 5:30 to drive 35 minutes or so in the dark.  There should be a law that on Saturday mornings while it's still dark, you should have to stay in the bed.  If I ever run for President (or Vice President), I think that will be my platform.  (Except when adopted parents come to pick you when you're in college to take you to The Waysider for breakfast on a Saturday.  I am pretty sure they never picked me up at 5:30, but it was pretty early and totally worth it.)

We successfully made it on time and I returned home to pick up Christopher so could take James to a 20 mile ride. To make the most of our day and to be highly efficient, Christopher and I took a cooler with us and went to the grocery store while James rode.  I bought some dry ice to keep everything cold (which becomes relevant later).  We rushed home with a small hope that I could catch a quick nap before Christopher's soccer game at 3:30.  (James graciously agreed to forego the 3:30 cycling practice since I just couldn't be two places at one time, particularly since they are 30ish minutes apart.)

We unloaded the groceries and then slowly, but surely the fascination with the dry ice began.  Before I knew it, we had our entire kitchen island covered in "fog."  (Don't ever cover your entire kitchen island with dry ice "fog."  It quickly condensates and becomes water all over your kitchen island.  If you don't notice it quickly because you are having too much fun being fascinated with the dry ice, you will have a very big mess to clean up.  Not that I know about that first hand.  Really.)  Next thing I know I well beyond having a chance for a nap and now needing to rush to get to soccer.  Have I ever mentioned that my younger child is not one to be rushed for anything?  We successfully get transitioned from dry ice and get to the van.  As I am thanking them for being so cooperative and helping get ready, James very innocently asks, "Why are we leaving at 2:30 for a 3:30 game?"  We frequently leave over an hour before cycling practice, but only 25-30 minutes early for soccer.  I just had to laugh.  The soccer game ended up being a doozy.  I think the final score was 12-0.  Our coach finally took a guy off the field and would only let one kid play offense for the entire last quarter.  At first I really felt sorry for the kids on the other team until I realized that the kids on the other team really weren't paying attention.  I forget that not all little boys like to compete.  All the time.  Even if it's just to see who finishes brushing teeth first. 

Sunday didn't seem much better - church, a skills practice for James (to make up for the one he missed - that guilty mom syndrome) and a group at church we're a part of.  I fell asleep waiting for Keith to get home and watching Wall Street collapse.  That really made me appreciate the sermon we had on Sunday morning about suffering and its role in our lives.  Bottom line was it's all good, the suffering that is.  If you're interested I'll hook you up with a CD or something.  It was really worth hearing if you're curious.  Monday was a crazy day to be in NY.

I wasn't really sure how to title this week's adventures other than Just Life for the Todds.  Over the past couple of trips to NY, I have had random people tell how important it is to enjoy these moments because they go so fast.  A gentleman last night told me he called these years the "sweet spot" years.  I think I understand why.

Txting

I am getting old.  It's official.  These kids are all into something I really don't even understand.  I thought I understood it until I was much closer to it.  Texting.  I am a self professed/confessed crackberry albeit somewhat rehabilitating.  For several years I  was never without it attached to my side and I was constantly checking my e-mails.  A 4- and 6-year-old Christopher and James would run and bring it to me should I happen to leave it on the counter and it buzzed.

I thought, then, that I understood the texting thing.  I typed messages and responded to them constantly.  They were just doing it on a phone.  Well, that was until we got James a phone to use when he went off to overnight camp or we went to Six Flags and let him go off on rides by himself.  It all seemed helpful and uneventful until we went to Nationals.  Fortunately, we had the foresight to have AT&T cut him off at 200 text messages each month.  They are very kind even to warn him when he reaches 150 messages.  (Of course, all this generosity comes for a small fee.  I'm sure it's much smaller than paying for all the texts that would likely be sent otherwise.)

The 6 kids that were at Nationals texted constantly.  They texted each other and texted kids back in Atlanta.  (We were in California if you're just joining in.)  They texted someone in Atlanta after midnight and got a response.  When I started researching what all these non-stop texts were about, I was amazed.  "Wat r u doing?"  "Eating."  "When r we leaving?"  "5 min"  "What socks r u wearing?" "Don't no, u?"  The most amazing thing?  They were often sitting side by side?!

Last week, James sent an text and AT&T kindly responded that they would not forward that one because it exceeded his 200 limit for the month.  Whew.  You can say a lot of nothing in a lot of non-words.  And to think I thought I understood.  ROTFL (rolling on the floor laughing) at myself.