Halloween(ed Out)

Yesterday was the costume parade at school, where the kids were led through the halls to collect candy from church ladies stationed along the route:



Britt looks really excited, doesn't she? The gypsy holding her hand is her teacher, Miss Millie.

I think she's getting burned out on the costume thing since she balked for a minute about putting it on tonight for the third time, until she remembered that it would get her more candy.



She watched some other trick-or-treaters work the cul-de-sac while Poppa changed his socks:



And she flitted around a bit, you know, like ladybugs do:



Then she flopped down on the ground



and handed me her wings.



Then she rolled around on the grass,



just enjoying nature. Or something. You know, like ladybugs do.

And then she did some actual trick-or-treating:



We covered about three blocks and she was really good about saying "Trick-or-treat!" and "Thank you," but I had to keep reminding her to only push each doorbell once. She likes to ring ours every time she comes through the front door. A lot.

After we got home, Mikey took her to see Gigi and his folks to collect more candy, and her wings and antennae got lost somewhere along the way. When they came back, Britt shrieked, "My wings! My...my...my..." and then she waved her hand around her head because she doesn't know the word "antennae." It was cute. Maybe you had to be there.

Anyway, yay! Halloween is over and now I can chill, except that tomorrow night we go to the first birthday party outside the family that Britt's ever been invited to. And, of course, it's a princess party and all the girls are supposed to dress "princessy" and Britt doesn't have a princess costume. She could go as a ladybug princess, but now she doesn't have any wings or antennae.

(***sigh***)

So I'll be keeping an eye peeled for marked-down princess costumes when I go shopping for a birthday gift tomorrow. Wish me luck on that.

Ladybug, Ladybug

Britt's school had a trick or treat party yesterday, so she got to wear her Halloween costume for the first time.

She's finally reached the age of goofy smiles; I have three different shots of her grinning just like this:



After the party, we toasted her good fortune at raking in a pumpkin-ful of goodies,



and then she kicked back with Poppa to enjoy some of her loot.

Little Rhinestone Drummer Cowgirl

The hat that came with Bridgie's Halloween costume was too small for her so she gave it to Britt.

Britt scrounged up a mis-matched pair of boots, plunked the hat on her head and demanded that I bring her horse around, pronto! Then she went off riding the range:



C'mon, Britt, gimme a big smile!



Um, okay, never mind.

Later, she set up her drum kit (she calls them her bam-bams)



and played her little heart out.



(Okay, this is where I would've posted an MP3 of "Wipeout" if I knew how to do that and I would've told you to click here to listen to a sample of Britt's drumming ability and you would've clicked on it and maybe smiled a little bit, but since I don't know how to post an MP3 to my blog, you'll just have to imagine that part. Sorry.)

Mom's 15 minutes of fame

Phil sent me a picture of the billboard:



Dang, that's a horrible picture; she looks like she's in pain.

She traded in the Corvette for this sporty little number (and a pocketful of cash):





Phil was supposed to bring her down to see me tomorrow, but she called and cancelled this morning. I'm bummed.

Phil's bummed because he never got to drive the 'Vette.

I've died and gone to heaven

Mikey and Britt went shopping this evening. One of their purchases was an almost-Halloween cupcake cake.



Britt and I enjoyed some almost-Halloween-cupcakey goodness together,



and then



she shot me.

Bad kitty

Remember a few months ago when the cat started using our bed for a litter box? Well, we finally managed to break him of that, but now he's taken a fancy to Bridgie's bed.

She came home a wee bit tipsy and went straight to bed after spending Saturday night out with friends. She woke up Sunday morning reeking of cat piss because she'd rolled around all night in a wet spot.

I snickered as I handed her a rag and a can of upholstery cleaner. I mean, better her bed than mine, right? Anyway, I thought it was pretty funny.

Until last night, when I climbed into bed and my legs landed in something cold and clammy.

The little sumbitch pulled a two-fer this weekend.

The only reason he's still here is because Britt calls him "my baby kitty" and "my friend," but he's down to his ninth life now.

Britt-isms

Britt speaks pretty clearly now, although her syntax is a little off sometimes. For example, when she wants me to open a door she says, "Put the door out!"

She's confused about pronouns at the moment -- a girl is a he and a boy is a she -- so she says things like, "Where Poppa at? I want her!"

She's still not pooping in the potty, either at home or at school, but her teachers are working with her on that. Apparently, when she goes to the potty there, they tell her to "push it out." At home she insists on keeping me and Bridgie company when we're in the bathroom, encouraging us in her piping little voice, "C'mon, smash it out!"

When I have to speak sternly to her, she'll go, "Don't say to me. It's not nice!"

Riding home from school yesterday, she asked hopefully, "Go buy-buy some toys?" Then she repeatedly crowed, "I want some toys!"

And then, in case I hadn't heard and/or understood her the first eight times, she said it once more, very slowly and deliberately, "I! WANTS! UM! TOYS!"

I almost drove right off the road.

Ballet school dropout

Well, I guess it's over.

I was dreading today, after what happened last Friday. I tried to talk to Britt about it several times, but her only response was to shriek, "No! No dance cwass!"

I don't know what happened. She seemed like she enjoyed the first three weeks so much, and then last week she totally lost her shit. And today, when I brought out her leotard and tights to get her ready to go, she just went to pieces. So we didn't go.

I'll have to call next week and tell them she won't be back. At least, not this year. It's supposed to be fun, after all, and if she's not having fun then there's no point.

I am a little disappointed, but mostly I'm bewildered because I can't figure out why she loved it one week and hated it the next. It's so weird.

Maybe it's just because she's three.

(***shrug***)

Beats the hell outta me.

Squee! It's here!

Last week I ordered Britt the cutest damn Halloween costume ever! Mikey and Bridgie will be relieved to know it's finally here since I've been relentless about keeping them updated on its progress via UPS tracking.

I can't wait to see it on her, but once she sees it she's gonna want to wear it every minute of every day; we already have to spell the word "costume" around her. I think I'll wait until everybody gets home tonight so we can all admire her in it, and then I'll have to stash it away so it'll be out of sight and hopefully out of mind.

She'll actually get some wear out of this one because there's a trick-or-treat party at school on the Saturday before Halloween, and then a costume parade at school on Tuesday since they're closed on Wednesday. And, of course, we'll take her trick-or-treating Wednesday night. After that, she can use it to play dress-up all she wants.

I bet you're just dying to know what her costume is, aren't you? Oh, you're not? Well, that's good because all I'm saying is that it's red and black and it has, um, accessories.

Back to the Punkin Patch

We had such a good time at Chester's last year that we had to do it again.

At the petting zoo, Britt fed this cute little llama



and the goats.



She was very popular with the goats



and the sheep,



but not so much with the ducks that were running loose. Because Britt went running after them.



But they were faster.

And then, PONY RIDES!!!



Actually, we got off easy this year. She was content with only three rides instead of 67.

Then it was time to pick out her little punkin.



This is my little punkin:



When it was time to go, she shook hands with Willie



and then found some more punkins she wanted to take home.



She's not a big fan of the "just one punkin" rule.



After we got home she started hollering, "Cut it, Poppa! Cut it!"



And so he did.