He was a WHAT?

A Port-a-Potty. Specifically a Honey Bucket.

(notice the flies and TP roll? A nice touch, I think.)

And this guy was an assassin.

(Yes, I can appreciate a cheap costume if used with enthusiasm.)

A clock

(10 bonus points for originality, am I right? She was looking around the house, saw a clock and said "I want to be a clock for Halloween." That's how the Halloween magic happens. Eyeliner numbers, the hands are game spinners we stuck on with goop, and we stole the pendulum from the clock that inspired it all. )

and

A Purple Toothfairy

(bought the fabric, sewed the dress, made the tutu)

(watched turn-a-headband-into-a-tiara tutorial on YouTube and made one)

(threaded the "teeth and pliers" necklace and added googlie eyes to a felt tooth)

(and JO added the bag of cash, also a nice touch.)

Costumes are fun. Hope your Halloween was Happy!

Caught the Bug

I've heard it can be addictive, and it's true. Once you've done it once you want another one. Yesterday ended with a few more google searches. He's done two and is looking for more.

Our triathlete, Ben.

Pre-race pic. Cheese?

(time for a race day diversion!)

(another diversion?!?)

It's kid-athlon time. Go, sis!

A Tisket a Tasket. . .

. . . a "baby" in a basket

CO was so pleased when she saw these pictures.

"Awww, that's me! Why I'm sweeping in that basket?"

I have no idea why, but I'm glad someone took her picture while she slept!

Silly Sisters

Dag Blast It All!

I remember often hearing my mother's words; "FOR THE LOVE OF PETE!"

I have a vivid memory of running around the basement laughing hysterically with my brother, Andrew, as we I chimed back; "Pete has love. But he's dead." We thought we were so clever.

It turns out I have my own goofy (yet motherly) saying:"DAG BLAST IT ALL!" Proof that I'm just like my mother.

Today my almost six year-old, laughed hysterically and said; "Dag Blasketball is fun to say." Proof that she's just like her mother.

Guess Who Else is Allergic to Weeds, Grass, and Trees?

(It itches. A lot.)

He Could Easily Be an Only Child

My second oldest child spent the morning as happy as a clam playing soccer alone. It was JO versus the invisible team. At half time, I overheard this bit of commentary; ". . . score 3 to 5, the invisible team's winning." I didn't have a lot of time to worry about the self esteem issues of a child who was losing to an invisible team because he ended up winning 14 to 12. Whew, what a game!