We'll Always Remember the Blue and the White...

It's sort of a weird phenomenon to have our kids growing up in the same place we grew up, going to the same high school that we went to. While each new milestone with our kids is uncharted territory, somehow everything seems vaguely familiar...

Jessie on her way to Bingham Ball with her friend, Danny.

Not a great picture, but this shows the color of her dress better

The guys from the block.
These dudes aren't in high school yet, but their parents went to Bingham too. SoJo has a lot of "repeat customers" - people who grew up here & who have settled back here with their own kids...so we have a lot of shared history.  By the way, I love this picture. It will be a classic one day. 

Noble lettered in Cross Country at Bingham this last week.  (Deja vu.)
Noble with his friend Jacob Haynes and their coach (Coach Arbogast retired two years ago). A  little brag time: Noble was the only freshman boy to letter, and was awarded the freshman mvp plaque. He was born to run. Also, as Mike pointed out, he was recognized for wearing the best tie (Mike is taking credit for the fashion-forward gene).

So I took Noble on a history tour to the trophy case where still hangs the 1990 team cross country photo - my second year on the team and the year of their first state championship.  Good memories. 

Living full circle.

This Week

I began last Tuesday anxiously waiting for the A/C repairman to come. We had spent the previous 3 days a little warm. But my YW lesson on Sunday was all about being grateful in any circumstance - so I was determined to practice gratitude - even if I felt cranky. The guy was about an hour and a half late (another chance for me to practice gratitude) - and then (finally), just as he was about to arrive, I got a phone call from the school. Grace was on the line and informed me that Sully had fallen from the monkey bars at recess, hurt his wrist, and the teacher thought he should see a doctor.

Super bad timing.

I was stuck. Couldn't leave with the A/C guy just getting there. But what kind of a mother tells the office people to just hang tight with her injured son until she gets around to picking him up?

Priorities.

I told them I couldn't get there right away and that I would see what I could arrange. I called my sister Holly and asked if she could go check him out and at least bring him home so I could comfort him until we could get him to the doctor. She was awesome and came to the rescue.
Turns out, we were the one-in-a-million household annually to have their A/C compressor brought to a screeching halt by a hapless earwig taking refuge between connector points on the circuit. Not kidding. The repairman showed me the charred remains of our little earwig friend in the control panel. I was gobsmacked. Could anything more random have caused this? Brought to our knees by an earwig. With odds like that, I figured we should have won a prize or something. As it was, we had to pay him. He was nice and only charged us the $79 service evaluation charge. And I tell you I was thrilled to pay it. Only ten minutes and $79 (plus tax) to once again feel cold air flowing from the vents?  SOLD!

It was also fortunate that the A/C was so easily fixed so that I could get Sully to the doctor sooner. Although...from the moment he walked in the house with Holly he was downplaying the whole thing, saying in a matter-of-fact tone that he felt much better, that it didn't even hurt. Still, when I asked him to squeeze his hand into a fist for me he couldn't do it, so I decided we were definitely going to have it x-Ray'd.

Sully was the SWEETEST.  He talked and talked to the doctor and nurses, and x-Ray techs. He was so animated, telling them that it didn't hurt (until the doctor touched the one spot that did hurt, "Every place on me feels good, except RIGHT HERE", pointing to a spot on his wrist). After taking a look at the x-Ray the doctor walked in and announced, "It's broken", and then explained that they would splint it then and put a hard cast on after a few days. At the word "cast" Sully started to tear up. Sully had high hopes that he was just fine, and now the doctor said he was going to have to wear a cast for a month. (Later on he explained that he was crying because it meant he couldn't play on the playground for a month.) Waiting for them to come back to fit the splint, he paced back and forth repeating to himself over and over, "Having a broken arm isn't the worst thing. There are lots of things that are worse" - with tears just under the surface. I wish I had taken a video of it. It was so sweet to watch him pep-talking himself.

By contrast, when I took him to get his hard cast on yesterday he was beaming with pure JOY. With a few days of one-armed experience under his belt he was full of confidence in his ability to adapt (and to still have fun at recess). He was stoked to get the new cast (and to wash his hand again). Sully is like sunshine.

We treated ourselves to a mother/son lunch at Chick-fil-a afterward. Look at that happy face!

Later that day with a few signatures. I got first dibs...

On Friday Mike packed up the youngest three and headed to St. George to be there early enough to get a good night's sleep (sort of) before the marathon. I stayed behind with the older three until after Noble's race. 

This race was in Park City, and the coolest course they've done all year in my opinion. They ran all over the hills. Noble was taken out early on when a kid slipped on a rain-soaked hill and knocked down a bunch of runners. This loosened one of Noble's shoe laces, which later caused him to loose his shoe, forcing him to back track to get it and then he had to put it back on. He still finished with a decent time (17:26) - but finished last for Bingham in the varsity race - and was sure he'd lost his place on varsity. He was pretty upset after he crossed the finish line. The coach reassured him that he still held his place - and would run varsity at Region on the 13th. Adversity is good for the soul. It made Noble want to try harder. He told me he will be duct-taping his laces before his next race. He is learning a lot.

A pre-race prayer

As soon as we had finished talking to the coach we got in the car and headed south to St. George. It was a late night, past midnight, when we got in. But traveling with teenagers is a lot easier than traveling with little kids - we drove straight through, no stops.

Mike was up at 4:00 the next morning - and his dad drove him to catch the race bus for the marathon. He was trying to meet up with a guy from the neighborhood so they could run together, but they never found each other in that sea of people (they actually ended up running almost the exact same time - even though our neighbor finished about 5 minutes after Mike. If that doesn't make sense - let me know and I'll explain). He did, however, run into Sister Brewer (who's son is the "other freshman varsity kid" from my previous post) who walked right up to him and smiled and encouraged him (this was probably her 10th St. George marathon). It was a tender mercy for him and helped ease his nerves. (Thank you Diana!)

His goal was to match or beat his dad's time from 1984 (3:40). His splits until about mile 23 were more than fast enough, but he slowed up his last few miles. He ended up finishing 6 minutes slower than Howard (the speed demon) - still not too shabby for a first marathon at 40. Howard reminded Mike that he had been five years younger and two-kids less (they add mileage) when he ran it in '84. :)

The Melton men...

What an awesome experience! I am so impressed that Mike set himself a difficult challenge and went and did it -- without anyone else pushing him or even anyone training with him. He is amazing! He's also in phenomenal shape now. He told me he stopped by the health fair at work today and they told him his BMI was "desirable." Ha ha ha ha. Go Mike!

There is a Reason They Write Songs About Mondays

Some days you wonder if you should have just stayed in bed. I thought about journaling about my day Monday, but in my heightened emotional state Monday night, decided to give it some time. So now, from the wizened perspective of two days on, I will add the events of  Monday, 27 April to the Melton family historic record.

Monday dawned a cool spring morning. I coaxed the kids out of bed as usual for scripture reading and prayer where I had to continue prodding to keep them awake, after which, they filed off to get ready for school. I say that loosely. A few got dressed (& ran next door to their piano lesson), one started goofing off with his little brother, and one went back to bed. At 3 min to go-time (when the Expedition departs the garage) as I was raising my voice at one child to get his shoes on (for the 10th time), and encouraging 2 others to get their teeth brushed, and for someone to take the dog out. The one who went back to bed (Noble) wandered up the basement stairs to inquire what time it was. When I replied that we were leaving in 3 min he started a desperate negotiation to buy enough time to shower. I told him, "Too late. Skip the shower." Even though I knew very well that my 8th grade son would sooner sign away his long board than go to school (where there are girls to impress) without completing his full morning hygiene regimen (shower, hair dryer, teeth brush, mouth wash, deodorant, hair coiffing paste). In some unexplained time-bending phenomenon, he trotted out to the car as we loaded up 5 minutes later (we managed to give him 2 extra min) showered and fresh (but without breakfast).

After dropping the kids at school I pulled into the driveway and noticed the dog (that stupid dog!) standing there in my garden. The garden I had spent the ENTIRE day Friday cultivating and planting. He had dug up all my mounds, trampled all my seed beds, and topped it off by pooping in the peas. I stomped out in my pj's and tried to lure him out, to which he responded by growling his "I dare you" growl at me when I approached him. (I admit to repeating under my breath the words, "I hate that dog. I hate that dog...." again and again.) When I finally got him out of the garden and fixed the wire fence around the garden which I thought would keep him contained (my first mistake). I went in to get on with my day.

After dropping Abner off at preschool, I came home to do my exercise and clean up from breakfast. As I walked into the basement to get on the elliptical I was greeted by a giant mess, making it quickly apparent that certain children had shirked their weekend duties.  Then I walked into their bedrooms. Ugh....walking into my kids rooms is stress-inducing. A half eaten banana, empty dishes, dirty clothes on the floor, clutter...Before you ask, yes we DO have rules prohibiting all these things. (Last week in the boys room I found something extra special....ever heard of a trucker bomb? Yes...that. The suburban version. It's a good thing that I have learned to be suspicious when I see something out of the ordinary. I didn't need to open the container to confirm my suspicion. Later, when the culprit offered his excuse, it was pretty laughable. Ask me sometime. Oh, these boys.) I made a mental note (several) to talk with the guilty parties after school, and withhold allowance.

11:15 rolled around and I picked Abner up from preschool. Once home he started in on the raisins in the pantry. Every time I turned around I found him breaking into a new box of raisins. I kept shoeing him away, and he would return after a short time. Like a mosquito. I finally asked him to go play outside while I finished cleaning up. He asked if he could take a treat to the dog. I said yes. So Abner began rummaging through the pantry to get a dog treat himself. It wasn't long before he managed to knock a full quart jar of last year's applesauce off the shelf with a crash.
*sigh*
I came and took him by the hand, led him around the impact zone, handed him a dog treat, and expressed my frustration. I told him to GO OUTSIDE. So he did. I spent the next 10 minutes cleaning up broken glass and a quart of splattered applesauce off all surrounding surfaces.

No sooner had I finished the applesauce clean up, than Abner casually walked through the garage door and announced that the dog was out. "Out? What do you mean, 'out'?!" I deduced from my hasty 30 second conversation with my 3 year old that Abner had opened the driveway gate and River had made his escape. I ran out and started calling for River. Nothing. I asked Abner where he went. He was a little bit vague, but pointed down the road. I grabbed my keys and ordered Abner into the car, and I called Mike. (Again, the words: I hate that dog. I hate that dog....) Mike apologized, but there wasn't much he could do.  We drove around the block, asked a neighbor to keep an eye out, at which point I was ready to surrender River to his fate. When we got back I decided to look more thoroughly in the next door neighbor's back yard. As I walked toward the back corner of their yard I saw River's hairy head pop up and look at me. Caught! I tied River up in the house and got back to the normal demands of the day (trying to get up to speed after missing my Young Women's leadership and class presidency meetings the day before for my parent's mission farewell, attempting to set up last minute visiting teaching visits, finishing plans for Tuesday's YW activity, laundry, etc.).

The usual time for Jessie's arrival from school came and went. Sometimes she checks in and asks to stay after for different things, but I hadn't heard anything from her. I finally tried calling her and she texted back that she had stayed to study for the upcoming AP examination. I made another mental note to talk to her about communicating better with me ahead of time.

Meanwhile, Abner ate about 500 more raisins.

On the way home from the Montessori school I brought up my concerns about the disastrous state of the basement and bedrooms. Groans from the kids. This continued after we got home which led me to get even more frustrated and tense and stern with the kids, right in the middle of which Jessie decided to call for a ride home. Under the circumstances I was short with her over the phone, then apologized and explained some of the contributing frustrations of my day. She was already offended when I picked her up for taking my frustration out on her over the phone. I immediately took that bate and got all up in her face for not letting me know she would be late coming home from school. To which she responded that she HAD told me last week sometime (I vaguely remember this), by informing me (in passing) that there would be an AP study group meeting alternately A days one week and B days the next. What? I CANNOT keep track of which days are A or B days and I CANNOT be expected remember all her MANY commitments. I require frequent communication. I explained all this to her, and told her how important it was, especially on a day like that one where I had stuff coming at me left and right.... but she just got more angry and sassy. I tried to stay calm, but I am pretty sure I had a little bit of talk-show-head-swagger ("oh no you di'n't") going on as I told her she was out of line.

After that I cried. First, not the last, time that day.

Meanwhile, Abner ate 200 more raisins.

I picked up my shopping list and got ready to head to the grocery store, but not before pleading with Noble to PLEASE help out while I was gone, and to set an example of positive attitude for everyone (noting that Jess was still sulking around). And I went to the grocery store with red eyes.

We had dinner sans Mike (he was teaching a Monday night Econ class) where I proposed that we all help with some much-needed weeding in the yard after our meal. More sour attitudes. But I had anticipated this, and while at the store picked up coconut Sobes to offer to anyone who would help me. And thus my crew was assembled.

As we headed into the yard Tillman ran to tell me that he thought Abner might have thrown up in the hallway. I told him to go find out for sure. After a more thorough investigation, the verdict was not throw up but diarrhea in the hallway. So I left the weeds to the kids and went in to take care of Abner. Just as I feared: too many raisins. After cleaning Abner up in the shower, we returned to the weeding where we actually made some good progress (most satisfying part of the day so far).

At this point I was running out of stamina and made a deal with Noble and Tillman that they could watch an episode of Top Gear if they would do the dishes and clean the kitchen. They eagerly agreed, and I sat down for a moment of much needed repose. But when I walked out to check on them I found the kitchen still a mess and that my kitchen crew had completely dropped the ball - each blaming the other. Fed up, I took over and did the dishes, and after a not-so-harmonious family prayer, sent EVERYONE to bed without discussion (except Jessie who had more homework to do).

Later, I split the little boys up and sent Sully to go to sleep in my bed because they were wrestling instead of sleeping.

With the dishes done, and totally worn out, I sat down on the couch. I had a headache.

Later when Mike got home, he came over to condole with me about my day. I was so tired I soon got up to go to bed, picking things up as I went. I walked into the bathroom, eyes half -closed with exhaustion and sat down to use the bathroom, only to discover to my despair that Sully had gotten out of our bed, used my bathroom (half-asleep I am sure) and peed all over the toilet seat. The one I was sitting on.

I cried. Again. (Mike says I screamed. That was probably true.) That was the last straw. I cried as I turned the shower on and washed myself.  Mike was a sympathetic spouse and came to clean the bathroom while I cried myself out of the shower and into bed. Where I slept SOUNDLY.

My consolation is that Tuesday was a great day. Luck will always change. You just have to wait long enough.

Everyday

I take more pictures these days with my phone than with our camera, which is too bad because the photos are not the best quality. But then again, it means that I get more candid moments because the phone is more handy. Here are a few from my phone over the past week or two. Images that tell the story of our life.

The most handsome man in the world lives here.

 #6 had an accident with the kitchen stool one day last week. He fell and hit his ear on the corner of the stool back. He kept waking up after he went to bed that night crying that his ear hurt; I worried that maybe he'd done some internal damage. I asked Mike to give him a blessing and called my dad at 10:30 to come and help (thank you Dad!). I am so grateful for the priesthood. This is Abner after the blessing. All is well. The next day he had no complaints.

 On Friday Tillman had a few school friends come over to "work on a project". Tillman had offered no further information when he asked if his friends could come over so I assumed it would be pretty straight forward and simple - maybe some research, writing, maybe putting together some kind of simple presentation. I learned my lesson: always ask for more information. Turns out it was a bit more elaborate. After dropping them off after school with Noble in charge, I ran to do some quick shopping for dinner. When I walked in the door they met me with their demands: a circuit board, wires, a power source and something to build an electric vehicle with. I stood there for a minute completely confused. What? What kind of project was this? They (in their cryptic 5th grade speak) explained that they had to build something that would move on its own using electricity. I asked if there were any official printed instructions I could look at because the stuff they were telling me made no sense. It seemed pretty complicated. 

Plus, it was due Monday, so his was their only shot at it. And we had like an hour. I drew a blank. 

Noble had been home from school that day incapacitated by a pinched nerve in his shoulder.  As I listened to Tillman and company I became more confused by the second, and I was in the middle of about 20 other things demanding my attention that afternoon. The surprise arrival of this crisis definitely threw me off my groove. Luckily I had Noble.  In desperation I looked to him and asked what we should do. Oh how I love, LOVE this engineering son of mine! Together we were finally able to get clarification about Tillman's project. Noble determined that we needed a small 1.5 v motor that he found on Hobby Lobby's website for less than $4 and a battery pack. And we decided that the vehicle could be constructed out of Legos. So the 5th graders and I ran to Hobby Lobby while Noble searched for gears and components in the Legos. Then he helped (*did most of the work*) put it together and tweaked the design till it functioned. I told Tillman that he had to give some credit to Noble in their presentation.

Noble is AWESOME in a crisis. He's like the Melton version of MacGyver. 

Post Script: Noble visited the Chiropractor the next morning for some intensive therapy for his pinched nerve. He can more-or-less stand up straight now. Notice his kinked posture in the picture. He definitely earned some respect by diligently stepping up that day when he could barely even move. Fist bumps.

Emergency Averted

Today, at church Mike was summoned out of Sunday School by Sully's Primary teachers.

 I was in a meeting when all this went down and couldn't answer my phone. But this was the blow by blow (pun not intended) from Mike in text:

Awesome.

Restitution

Recently, Noble tied our not-so-little puppy to one of the dining chairs. Which resulted in this...

I was out of the house when the incident occurred - and Noble called to give me a heads up, hoping to dissipate some of the looming wrath. He told me that the wall had been "dented". When I returned home and saw this gaping hole I admit that I lost my head and YELLED. I really yelled. It had been a stressful day already, and this little crisis seemed disproportionately dire in the moment. A penitent Noble promised he would fix it. I was more than a little doubtful. I assumed this was going to cost a lot of money and/or time, plus how would we ever match the paint?
When Mike got home (and I had calmed down) I rehearsed for him what had happened. Mike assured me that he could fix it, and that he and Noble would take care of it. So a few days later they got to work...

Thanks to YouTube, the paint lady at Lowes (with their genius paint-matching computer), and Mike's can-do attitude Noble has learned an important lesson and my wall has been restored to a nearly pristine state. Also, all those other dings and scratches that have accumulated over the years and needed to be touched up? Bonus. So, in a way I can thank Noble.

Of Note

It's Mothers Day 2014. As a Mother, these are the things I value. Memories.

Easter Morning 2014 (tired out after arriving home the night before from Goblin Valley)

Sully starring as "The Spoon" in the kindergarten program. Look at that gleam in his eye! He delivered his lines with panache  (eliciting laughter from the audience with his comedic timing), and executed his dance sequence with "The Dish" flawlessly. He was outstanding!

Big kids all: the Melton's are now a crib-less family. Abner graduated to Sully's bed and Sully graduated to Noble's old bed...(the older boys got new beds.)  With this milestone, and the recent registration of our oldest child in high school, all that remains is to clear the potty training hurdle, and we will be well on our way to "older family" status (as opposed to "young family"). Time is slipping away.

Another clue that life is changing: Jupiter the Space Donkey has lost some of his spring. I took him to the vet this weekend to look at a bleeding sore in his mouth. It looks like it's just an abscess. They are going to pull one of his teeth tomorrow. They said they will know if it's anything more serious once they get the tooth out, and get a better look.

At the vet's office I couldn't help but notice how grey his muzzle was as he sat on the waiting room floor...while younger, more energetic dogs trotted through. It occurred to me that the staff seemed to be especially gentle with him, talking to him sweetly, like they would a very old and infirm person. They told me over and over what a nice boy he was, and patient.
 I thought about our years with him. It's funny how all the obnoxious things he does/used to do suddenly become so endearing. We've known he is getting older, but the other day we happened to read that a lab's average life span is 10-12 years.

I hope we have longer than that.

He is 10.5.

Here he is taking it easy after his evening dose of medicine. Back to the vet in the morning.

The Big Time

Big time indeed.

Jessie played a little basketball last year. Church ball and one season of county rec. She liked it a lot and decided that she wanted to try out for the high school team. But as the year passed and then the week of tryouts approached she got cold feet, telling us she didn't think she wanted to try out after all. What if she embarrassed herself? What if she got cut right off the bat? She knew she lacked experience and she was worried. We told her to just try. Mike told her about how he regretted not showing up for wrestling tryouts in high school, and told her to avoid the same regret. Either way it would be a good experience. She asked me if I thought she could make it. I told her I had no idea, that it depended on the competition, what the coaches were looking for, etc. I had a pretty good idea that they would be looking for as many freshmen as possible, and told J. she had an advantage there. I knew this because I was cut myself as a Sophomore at BHS during basketball tryouts, ending my dream of becoming a professional basketball player. True story. ...ha ha ha...

As tryouts progressed throughout the week, and she survived one cut after another, we became more amazed. We had given her an outside chance, but now we dared to hope. We also became more nervous for her, because the stakes got higher every day.

It was an awesome moment that last day of tryouts when they called her over and then sent her jogging to the team locker room to claim her spot. I know parents sometimes get a bad rap for living their dreams vicariously through their children. But I have to admit, I am pretty stoked. For the record, I did not drive her toward basketball in any way. She was the one who asked to play rec. last year, and practiced on the driveway for hours. I sometimes worked with her on some fundamentals, but we didn't sign her up for any camps (we couldn't justify the cost this past year).

As a side note, we had to pull her out of the school she's been going to since 1st grade (that was a teary day for both of us) and put her in our boundary middle school so she could make it to daily workouts and games. What a fiasco. Did you know that in Utah if your boundary school is at capacity they do not have to accept  mid-year transfers of students living within their boundaries if they are transferring from a charter school? Neither did I. There was some high drama around here for about a week, as we made phone calls and visits to both of our nearest middle schools, the district, the high school, and met with the head coach. It basically came down to the principal (a really good guy) taking pity on us, and the head coach at BHS putting in a call to the middle school to plead our case. We were grateful that they made it work in the end. She transitioned fairly smoothly, although the first day when I picked her up after school she was in a state of emotional shock and awe. It's tough to come from a small, strict, simple, and academically heavy environment to such a crowded, chaotic place. I felt for her. We were able to get her into a few honors classes, and release time seminary (yippee!! --after half a year of early morning seminary). But she has been blown away at how little time teachers spend teaching, how disrespectful kids are in some of her classes, how watered-down the curriculum seems to be at times, how kids dress, the language, the lunch room. On the flip side, she's been pleasantly surprised at the social opportunities (for Jessie this is big...so many new people to meet!), the technology in the classrooms (every kid has an iPad), her honors Lit. class, how welcoming teachers and kids have been, not wearing a uniform... and the cute boys.
:)    

Middle school USA.

She has a whole new perspective now... and an appreciation for where she's been. So do we. I love NPA more than ever.  I worried that she would wither on the vine - academically and socially...but I think she'll be fine. We feel like it's the right thing to let her play.
This is going to be great. Go Miners!

Fall Back (autumn in a bazillion pictures)

Tonight is the end of Daylight Savings (I am making a mental note so we don't show up an hour early to church tomorrow). I don't know what you are going to do with your extra hour, but I am going to use mine to catch up with those things I never get to...such as updating the blog.


I LOVE FALL. Always have. It's my favorite season of the year. The colors are spectacular. The light glows. Everyone starts nesting. And the anticipation of the approaching holidays is in the air.

Here are some of the things we've been up to this fall.

Out in Nature

The view up Yellow Fork

We spent a lovely warm afternoon strolling leisurely up Yellow Fork

It was so beautiful.

An afternoon at Gardner Village to see the witches

If you think Mike looks eerily like the Uni bomber with his hood up like that (especially when he has his sunglasses on)....you're not the only one.

Caramel apples outside the sweets shop. Delish.

Putting the garden to bed for the year...

Last of the carrots and beets

Eating the super SWEET fall carrots. The cool-weather carrots are the BEST.

The last few pumpkins ready for picking

Speaking of PuMpkins...

We made our annual pilgrimage to our favorite patch kind of late this year...the day before Halloween. They still had plenty of pumpkins to go around, and we got what we came for...in record time too. Since we also had to carve our pumpkins the same night, I told the kids we had to be outta there in 15 minutes or less. They came through. I was pretty impressed.

Not a bad view

This year's creations included several corporate and team endorsements. My lawyers have advised me not to comment on the question of whether we were paid or not. I'll leave it at that.

And then of course, there was Halloween

Party #1. Neighborhood harvest party / trunk-or-treat

Sully's and Abner's costumes were inspired by their nightly bed time stories which chronicle the adventures of the Super Kids, "Super S" and "Super A". They always save the day!

Here is a video of "Super S" and "Super A" getting pumped up before the big neighborhood party with the official Super Kids cheer that Sully made up. (I love how Abner can only see out of one eye hole of his crooked mask.)

DSCN5555 from Angie Melton on Vimeo.

Tillman and his bff came up with this costume duo for the neighborhood party. They were perfect.

Party #2. @ the Sullivan Hacienda
We celebrated again at the annual Sullivan Halloween bash. We had some fresh brew out of the witch's cauldron, a hay ride, festive food and dancing the night away.

Here are the Super Kids in flight with Mike (aka "Si") giving them a little push.

 The Super Kids took their super strength to the horse pasture where they rolled these 50 gallon barrels around while everyone else got busy on the dance floor...

Boogie time.

DSCN5627 from Angie Melton on Vimeo.

Party#3. Mike's company party for families. No pictures...but lots more candy.

Party #4. (Not technically a party) All Hallows Eve itself.
Halloween finally arrived, with Sully almost beside himself with excitement. After all the Halloween parties we'd been to over the previous week, I had a hard time of it trying to keep things laundered and together. We soon discovered that more than one necessary piece of clothing was still in the dirty clothes, and even more distressing, we couldn't even find certain crucial accessories. As I was getting frustrated searching for things, with the kids chomping at the bit and trick-or-treaters arriving, Mike reminded me, "It's just Halloween. Relax."  That was good advise. So what if Abner went trick-or-treating without his mask and a mismatched cape. He didn't even notice.

Halloween dinner. Spaghetti squash with marinara and meatballs, salad, french bread and strawberry soda.

The whole gang. Napoleon and Pedro were joined by Kip and Deb.

Noble and friends. Noble is in that grey area where it's about time to stop trick-or-treating, but then he's not sure what to do instead. He's embarrassed to wear a costume, but wants the candy. We told him if he went trick-or-treating he HAD to be dressed up. He rounded  up a few friends and some half-hearted costumes and hit the road.  We later learned that most of those friends were not supposed to go trick-or-treating per their parents' policy of no trick-or-treating after 12. I apologized  the next day when I found out, for being that irresponsible parent who allowed her son to trick-or-treat at 13, and drag everyone else along. Sorry again guys. 

J. and her good friend manned the door and the candy bucket at our house. They were pretty good: teasing the older kids and being sweet to the little kids. (Although I was a little disappointed when they didn't chase down that one kid dressed as Beetlejuice after he absconded with and extra fist-full of candy. Little punk.)

Abner expounding on his trick-or-treating adventures over some of his cheese puffs and a strawberry soda.

Happy Fall!!! (And don't forget to set your clocks back tonight.)