Aahh--WOOOOOOoooo!

He's ready.  

And Fiona, recently and deeply into dress-up ("Am I kinda fancy?"  "I'm the Queen Ant.") must think this is the best day conceivable.  

Watching these two in project planning mode is beautiful.  

E's been doing some painting of our friends' lake house.  He left before dawn this morning and, while Sam had his morning nap, Fiona and I made pumpkin chocolate chip cookies.  Yum.  I very briefly considered stopping her from dumping spoonfulls of dry goods on the counter and guffawing while barely squeaking out a giggly Montessori equivalent of "mine!" -- "This is my work!"-- thinking "we won't know what ratio of baking soda to flour we've lost..." then I started guffawing.  

I thought I would never get her to nap between having messy fun and waiting for Sam to feed but, promised a warm cookie, a party full of friends, and the chance to wear her wolf costume and howl at the moon, she passed out for a good long one.  

Aahh--WOOOOOOoooo!

When we got to Julia and Morgan's, a roaring Ollie lion and masked Alden skeleton were terrifying.  She screamed and jumped into my arms, clingy monkey style.  But she is graced with both bravery and deeply kind 3-year-old friends who approach slowly, mane removed to say, "It's just me.  I'm nice.  I won't roar."  

From then on, this was a magical and thrilling night in Fall Creek for our dear wolf.  I could cry at the beauty of these little people.  

And at the joy I get from these two.  

Hey, remember this chicken?

Back to the present: 

Some trick-or-treating pics, B&W's courtesy of Hollands:

Dre speaks for all of us when she raises a wand and declares: "No meltdowns before 7!".

Teak recalls vaguely a defense against this elementary maternal command. 

These boys are poised to distribute candy to the older crowd, due to arrive any minute.  

Mind blown, Fiona-Wolf dons a bridal mane and chugs her brother's breast milk.

"Next year I will be a lion."  

xoxoxo