We took our son trick-or-treating, for one thing. This is the first time he's really been old enough to get it, and he got it big time. Between the costume (Thomas the tank engine) and the candy, he was thrilled.

I have always loved Halloween. Part of that is candy, part of that is an inclination to the theatrical and macabre. Last year changed that; my mother-in-law died last year, after a protracted struggle with lung cancer.

So this year, on the anniversary of her death, our family decided to make a picnic lunch and take it to the cemetery. There were eight of us, including my three year old son. We spread out a tarp, because the ground was wet, and put a tablecloth on top of that. We poured champagne, and ate cold chicken, and pasta salad, and corn, and deviled eggs, all next to the grave marker, which says SEARS in big letters.

My son climbed up on the grave marker and started tracing the letters with his fingers. Spotting a learning opportunity, I spelled it our for him as he traced each letter. When he was done, I said, "Do you know whose name that is? That's your last name."

I looked up, and my husband and my brother-in-law were watching me with funny, sort of horrified expressions. I hadn't thought about it; I was just trying to reinforce the alphabet.

But I took my son to a graveyard on Halloween and showed him a tombstone with his name on it.

My mother-in-law would have laughed her head off. It was a really nice picnic.

So, Ben and I are going out tonight to celebrate our anniversary. (Seven years! Actually, it was yesterday, but Ben had to work. But I digress.) I put on nice clothes, and, since I had a few minutes, straightened my hair. I almost never do this, because it takes too long & I have better things to do. Anyway, I walked out of the bedroom and asked my three-year-old son, "How does Mommy look?"

"What are you dressed up as?" he asked.

Heh heh. Good question.

(So playschool just started up again, after a summer hiatus. During that time, the tiny human moved up to the 3 and 4 yo class, or as we've been calling it, Big Boy School. I almost always dropped him off in the morning last year.)

A conversation in my house, 7 a.m., this, the second day of playschool:


Tiny Human: I want Daddy to drive me to school today.

Me: Daddy can't drive you today. I'm going to drive you.

TH: But I don't want you to drive. I cry when you drive me.

Me: You don't have to cry when I drive. You can choose to be happy that I'm driving you.

TH: But I don't want to go to little boy school.

Me: Oh! You're too big for little boy school. You're going to big boy school even if I drive you.

TH: Yay!!

One of the things you don't necessarily know about kids before you have them (or anyway, I didn't, since I didn't know many small people) is that, when they start talking, they start saying really entertaining things. Two cases in point:

1. My sister is having a baby. She got a 4-d ultrasound done, and the technician made her a dvd of the process. She brought it over to my parents' house on Sunday so we could all admire my future nephew. Ben and I have been explaining all along to our son that he's getting a cousin, and that right now, his cousin's in my sister's tummy. Our son watched the 4-d video, which mostly featured face and feet. Then he said, "He not have hands yet. When he have hands, he come out."

2. My son and I went out to dinner tonight with my parents. My dad ordered tiramisu for desert, while my mom and I stuck with coffee. My dad offered to share his "cake" with my son, who brightened up, stuck out his fork, and wished my dad happy birthday.

... was what the little guy said when we left. We rode on Thomas's train, we rode on a little steam engine, we played with toys, we may have purchased some toys, he got a temporary tattoo and crashed in the car on the way home.

Fun day.

Tomorrow, we're taking our sprog to meet Thomas the Tank Engine. Specifically, to catch a ride on Thomas. He visits the Heart of Dixie Railway Museum annually, according to their website. It's about a 45 minute drive away. I predict it will be well worth the trip.

Apparently, Thomas is The Shit if one is in the under-three set. "Choo-choo" is the new favorite word in these parts, followed by the names of all the various engines. Everyone I know that's already been through this tells me the phase doesn't last, but right now, Excitement Abounds.

And I'm doing my part. Directions are printed, camera battery is charging, gummy bears are ... staying gummy, one hopes.

I hope he likes it.

On Friday, my two-year-old contracted what is euphemistically called a "tummy bug." I did get some reading done between sessions fri. night.

He seems to be doing better today,for which I am grateful. I'd been promising him the zoo, so we went to see the giraffes and feed the flamingos.

And in a wonder of technology, I'm posting this from my phone, in the bathroom, while he's in the tub.

I got about three hours of sleep last night, as the poor tiny person spent the latter half of the night vomiting. Poor guy. He did get a three a.m. bath, though, which at least seemed amusing in its novelty. He is now sacked out having an epic nap. Good on him.

So! To distract from my enormous fatigue, here are some words, freshly wrangled from the contentious pages of the OED (short-short version):

addorsed (adj)- turned back to back (heraldry)

ademption (n)- the action of taking away; law- revocation of a grant or bequest

adit (n)- 1. a horizontal passage leading into a mine, for the purpose of entrance or drainage
2. Entrance, access

The tiny person's first day of "school" is 86.76% complete. I have been a model of restraint in not calling them to see how he's doing, even though he cried and wailed like a very sad little boy when we left him.

*chews fingernails*

On the other hand, I've gotten loads done this morning.

1. I just read Fast Forward 2, ed. Lou Anders, and The Graveyard Book, by Neil Gaiman. Both very excellent books, completely different, and I want to talk about them more at greater length. But not right now, because there's some design work I'm supposed to be doing.

2. I just got my contributor copies for copyediting mental_floss! Yay! I didn't know I was going to get those. My name is very small in the "Special Thanks" section. I feel cool.

3. I've decided to do NaNoWriMo this year.

4. The tiny person starts "school" on Monday. He's not talking the way one might expect a two-year-old to, and our pediatrician recommends that he start socializing with folks his own age, the idea being that a) when he's around people who aren't so quick to guess his every whim, he'll begin expressing them aloud, and b) peer pressure can't be overrated. If the other people his size are talking he will, too. Or so we hope.

5. acuate (adj.) - made sharp or pungent; sharp-pointed
(v) - to make sharp or pungent

After refusing to get dressed after his bath, my son is, right now, eating chocolate cake clad in nothing but a diaper.

Now that's decadence.

So, September is turning out to be a crappy month. However, in the midst of all the things going horribly, horribly wrong, here's a good thing.

My son is two today. He had ice cream for breakfast, and he's told me what the pirate says. (Arrrr, of course! He does a mean evil genius, too: Mwaa ha ha.) We're having pizza and cupcakes for dinner, and he'll get to stay up late. So today is a good day.

1) Finally! A good wordcount day! I was beginning to wonder, there.

1539 on the book which, no really, I think the end is in sight this time. (Although I am sure I can and will complicate it further for myself.) And 239 on a completely unrelated story, of which I have no idea where's it's going. Also, I'm mostly writing it while the tiny human takes a bath.* He really likes bathtime. He may be the 1st child ever to have "Bath" as his first word, said in tones of great and convincing excitement.

* ETA: let me clarify. Ben read this and was horrified at the thought of my typing merrily away at the computer (not located in the bathroom) while our precious progeny potentially drowned. While the small human splashes about, and throws Bitey the crocodile into the water with a most satisfactory displacement of water, and otherwise occupies himself, I sit on the toilet (lid down) and scribble away with a pen in a notebook. If he says "Ah!" (his favorite syllable), or splashes me, I put the pen down and go play with him. This story might be kind of disjointed, actually.


2) Also, we have a drip in our bathtub. Drip may be a misnomer; what we really have is a torrent.

"Hmmm," said the maintenance guy, "that's really going. What an antique! That's the original fixture." (building dates back to 1920s, I believe) "Wow, I'm gonna have to ask (landlord's name redacted) about that. I'm going to coordinate with the plumber, cause I gotta see this."

I can hear it gushing as I type this. Also, the landlord is finally getting around to locating and sealing the hole the possum came in through. ("I see the problem," says maintenance guy. "They can just crawl up that pipe and walk in like a sidewalk!") Considering that repairs are usually effected with the all the racing speed of molasses in January, this is pretty good for them.

3) Page 2 of the comic ( after the cut )

1. I just broke my teapot. Dammit! Torrow I shall quest for a new one. This was a Christmas gift from my father in law, and it only made it to May. Poop.

2. I cut my thumb with scissors today, because I am an idiot.

3. I burnt a fingertip yesterday; see above.

4. Still sick. Better than before but...

5. Despite all this, just had a lovely dinner with my folks. The Tiny Human, he enjoys restaurants. Way cool.

6. Now, to the word processor. Ahoy!

Wordcount for Wednesday: 1396 on Donagh's story

 Wordcount for Thursday: negligible.  I took a reading day.

Yesterday, on the other hand, I got 1109 on my ghost story, and 1190 on Brenin's story, which will soon pass the 30,000 point.  I am just now hitting a really exciting part, and wow, it is fun.  If the Small Human falls asleep in the next 15 minutes*, I may get quite a few more.  But from the sounds coming from his room (the door opening and shutting ((he can reach the doorknob from his crib)) and talking ((a de de de gh gh ba ba-- awesome))) I don't think that's going to happen. 



*I get most of my writing done during naptime.+


+LJ's spellcheck suggests that "naptime" could be replaced with napalm, Neptune, epitome, optima, nepotism, and septum, among other things.  Also, nap-time.