The nightmare before Christmas

Hey kids,

This is what happens when your momma's month of October is full to the rafters with school projects, work projects, cake projects and doctor appointments. For all my swaggering talk of dressing you guys up like Madonna and Angus Young, this is what you guys are stuck with: Lion King and Eeyore hand-me-downs.

Don't get me wrong; you guys are cuter than a bug full of rugs, but just imagine the day when Wavy, you're all tarted up like "Borderline"-era Madonna, denim and bangles, and Jake is all bad-boy, school-boy charm in short pants, a school tie and long, sweaty hair tucked up into a school cap. Like so:



This has been my dream since before either one of you were born. Next year. I swear it.

Anyway. Downtown closes off the main drag on Halloween evening, and kids run around trick-or-treating the local merchants in an elaborate maze in the town hall. It's all so deliciously small-town.



(Hey, MamaSutra, do the orange canvas totes look familiar? Perfecto! Daddy manned the second orange tote all night for Wavy. Thank you again!)

Jake, you and I practiced all day, shouting "trick or treat" and "thank you" at the top of our lungs, cuz I knew that as soon as you were out in the fray, you'd shrink like a violet and whisper a timid "tick or teat", if at all. You did fine, but VOLUME, sweetie. Volume!

You haven't puked in months, but of course, the first thing you did as soon as we found a parking space downtown, was spew your dinner all over the front of your Simba costume. Afterwards, you felt fine, but the rest of us were kind of queasy. We cleaned you up as best we could, but I caught really icky whiffs of you all evening, when the draft was just right.

It took my breath away, when we stuck Wavy in your old Eeyore costume. She looked so much like you at that age that I kind of felt time double over on itself a bit. I will have to dig up an old photo and post them side by side.

Another G'Ville Bugaboo sighting. Not many of them 'round these parts, so I usually take notice when I come across one. Then proceed to seethe. Anyway, this one actually belonged to somebody I know. I thought I pretty much knew how much this guy made for a living, as I have worked with him in the past, so seeing him wheeling his baby boy around in an $800 stroller was surprising, to say the least. Who knew? Meh. I'd rather spend my money on groceries and electricity.

We didn't hand out candy tonight for the first time in many years, but instead turned off all the lights in the house, cowered in the bedroom and watched a scary movie (Vacancy) and a funny movie (Blades of Glory). It's past midnight now, though, and I am wired on a large Diet Coke and Halloween chocolate that I pilfered from your treat bags.

Tomorrow morning I meet with my endocrinologist to discuss my thyroid scan and lab results. Yay. One of his homework assignments for me in the interim was to call Wavy's pediatrician and ask her if it's okay to take Propranalol while nursing. I talked to her yesterday, and she said it's fine, so long as it's a small dose, as the drug does definitely find it's way into breast milk. I don't know what to think of this. The drug is for abnormally rapid heartbeat, which I have all the time as a symptom of hyperthyroid, and I would be so grateful not to feel so hyped up all the time because of it, BUT I am super-conscious of passing any amount of anything to Wavy.

I guess I should go to bed. Everyone else has been asleep for hours. Love you, and have a pleasant tomorrow.