Stop the world, I want to get off...

These past few weeks have not been the easiest. The end of the marking period for an English teacher is like fiscal close for those in business. Nicholas had a stomach virus the week after his two-year check-up. Luckily, it wasn't the swine flu, but a case of H1N1 is in the preschool. JOY!

Halloween was fun, as usual, and the fact that it fell on a Saturday and got celebrated at school on Friday made it feel like twice the work. Both boys had class parties (for which we contributed our family's famous and delectable juice boxes), and they also participated in the costume parade.

Because he is in an older group, Owen got to go trick-or-treating at the assisted living facility next to the school. They often collaborate for holiday events. Octogenarians, I am forever grateful to you for sending my son home with a bag full of peanut-free goodies, the majority of which, let's be honest, he never saw.

Owen loved being a dinosaur, and he audaciously roared at every dog that came barking to the front doors when we went out. Then he grabbed at me and climbed me like an oak tree. Jason and I decided that it would be best to let Nicholas nap through neighborhood trick-or-treating, as he still is too young to really know what it's all about. His classroom party and costume parade were enough this year, but next year he'll be onto us.

Peter, as is the usual custom, got to be a cow. That cow outfit never gets old. Peter is the youngest of our sons to don the costume, and he is the only one that I have ever carried in a Halloween costume. The older two were both walking by the time they wore that outfit. But it fit Peter like a glove.

I'll be honest. Halloween is not my favorite holiday. Seeing the kids all dressed up makes me smile, and going trick-or-treating with them is fun, but other aspects are lost on me. Like Mischief Night. Now, when I was younger, this was the night when everyone SNUCK AROUND. At 7pm, Jason and I saw kids leisurely strolling down our block with rolls of toilet paper in hand. As if they were entitled, somehow, to be defacing someone's property. As if it should just be a given that it's Mischief Night and they're out to do what needs doing. I don't get it. Luckily, we did not get TP'd, but if we do, I would feel free to just walk outside and ask the nonchalant perps to get off my lawn...