In which Halloween holds more trick than treat.
...for Owen, anyway. His parents had a fine time. But we'll get to that in a bit.
October proved a great month for little boys who can't get enough of the outdoors. There were trips to the park and the pumpkin patch, birthday parties for Grandpa, and visits with Aunt Betty Rose, in all the way from California. She brought a new toy car which, along with all things that go, turned out to be a huge hit.
The park is another huge hit-- especially the swingset. The pumpkin patch, on the other hand, was less enjoyable. While the tiny cabin proved intriguing, the ride to and from, and the pumpkins themselves, were alternately boring and terrifying.
This was also the month when we celebrated our first adoption anniversary. One year ago Thursday, October 27th, we received the referral e-mail for Owen and had our very first look at the baby who would become our son.
We, of course, celebrated the event by getting a baby sitter and having a nice dinner out. Oh, and we bought some cool Russian wine in a funky bottle.
In the meantime, it was all preparation for the big day: Halloween. Next to Christmas, this is perhaps my favorite holiday. When Owen is old enough to go trick-or-treating but not quite old enough to eat all the candy, Halloween will surpass Christmas.
For the vastly important costume decision, it came to a choice between three. An obvious contender was Superbaby. This, of course, was put aside for "been there, done that" reasons.
Next was the very exciting Batman theme. We had a choice of Batman or Robin and this would, of course, allow for family participation. Dad would play the other half of the Dynamic Duo and Mom could choose between Batgirl and Catwoman.
Sadly, we knew the headgear would never make it for even one photo. (We also suspect that Mom was not as enthusiastic as Dad when it came to family participation...)
That left the ever traditional vampire costume you see in the pictures. And, yes, he's a vampire, not Spiderman. Everyone knows Spiderman's costume is blue!
The pets joined in the fun wearing their quite appropriate witch and devil costumes. Said costumes could be worn for roughly nine seconds before the attired pet was attacked by the unattired pets. This phenomena make the photos you see at left quite rare and speaks to Robin's artistic gifts.
Leading up to the big day, things began to go awry for young Owen. To begin with, in a fit of brilliance, his parents decide that Daylight Savings Time would be the perfect weekend to take away his pacifier.
I'll spare you the details and simply note that the writing of this journal was just interrupted for a trip to give the pacifier back.
A few days later, on Halloween Eve, Owen delighted his mother by projectile vomiting in the bath tub. It was very Exorcist and, we thought, much in the spirit of the holiday. The part where it came out the nose seemed more than Owen had bargained for, however.
That was another night when we relinquished the binky.
And finally, this morning, we kicked off the festivities for a trip to the doctor to get two more immunizations and a flu shot. Immediately upon entering the examination room, Owen burst into ear shattering shrieks.
"This is good," the doctor told me. "It shows that he's mentally entering the two-year-old stage. He remembers that this is where he gets shots and he's using that information to predict the future. The tantrum shows that he can conceive of alternate possibilities and he's taking action to convince you to leave. See him tugging at the door and sobbing 'bye-bye?'"
Right, Doc. Blah blah blah. Poke him and let's get out of here.
Three stab wounds later and we're on our way to daycare where big Halloween festivities are planned. Our load is a bit lighter than originally intended. The cupcakes and cookies Mom bought for the party have turned into just cupcakes. Mom and Dad needed a taste of the cookies and then ended up eating the whole box themselves.
It was like taking candy from babies.
A shriek and a look of betrayal after that and I was off to work. Just a few hours later, however, Robin showed up to participate in the fun. Owen wanted none of that, though, and proceeded to have melt down number two. It seems that parental appearance at daycare means "time to go." Any lack of action is a potential for disaster.
Fortunately, a pile of sugar ladened icing helped take the edge off the pain. This remedy proved short-lived, however, as Owen took a nose dive off a foot stool immediately upon returning home and engaged in melt down number three.
Things were back under control when Dad got home for early trick-or-treating and, other than a flat refusal to be photographed, things went well for our little Prince of the Undead. About six, though, the delay dinner plan soured. We had to split from Grandma's, ditch good witch Holly, and get in front of Baby Einstein and get behind some mac 'n cheese.
Now we're sleeping peacefully. Yes, the pacifier has found its way mouthward, but I can live with this for tonight.
It's been a rough day to be a creature of the night.
