Baby it's Cold Outside (so I'd better get caught up)

The problem with procrastination?

It leaves you sifting through sunny fall photos while bundled under two blankets and cursing the 8-degree windchill and 13 inches of snow outside (and high-temped hacking husband who has once again left me to the couch and my laptop in the wee morning hours).

Anyone else feeling like autumn was too short-lived?

How about now?

This little gal did not get nearly enough wear out of her cute pink jacket. And even though December is just one day away, I was surprised when I went to dig out snow gear only to find that our only options for little miss Burt were rain boots and double socks.

But back to fall and its sunshiney fun. It was magic (which might explain my disappointment with winter).

We picked pumpkins.

Went to football games.

In addition to being Porter's BFF, this little guy may just be Nora's future beau.

Tried to squeeze in one last trip to the mountains.

We dressed up.

Watched hot air balloons rise with the sun.

Grandma and cousin Cohen join in the fun

Spent our traditional Spaghetti Annual weekend in Park City (it's a family gathering that drives us all to the mountains for massive amounts of pasta, shopping, fall leaves and family fun).

Carved pumpkins.

And played outside in the "cold" (oh, what I would give for a 55-degree evening right about now).

Best fall ever. Period.

That's not normal?

In reference to Saturday evening's victory dance on the ol' blog, a friend of mine has suggested that wall washing is, well, not normal. In my defense:

1) I only wash walls once a year and only because I was raised doing it once a year. I know no other way. It's as natural as assigning chair leg and banister dusting to my kids as chores. Blame it on my mom.

2) I kind of have a thing about dirty baseboards. Also my mom's fault. (I can trace the obsession back to an off-handed comment in my youth about how you can tell how clean people really are by looking at their baseboards). That was, of course, delivered while I was being forced to wash the baseboards.

3) Porter's latest trick is to pick his nose and then wipe his finger on the wall. It is disgusting and I am considering corporal punishment to break this weird habit. If my brother is reading this, he probably feels oh so vindicated, considering I used to tease him endlessly about the same gross habit when he was a little guy not much older than Porter. Mariah, I hope for your sake that this habit has since been broken.

And since I'm feeling all nostalgic about family oddities in preparation of the upcoming turkey gathering, let me just put this one out there:

Mom and Dad, how in the world did you make a bigger deal out of my nail biting than Chris' picking and wiping?

Oh the fun to be had when the McAfees gather. Can't wait!

To-do To-done

Thanksgiving is in five days.

Correction: Thanksgiving that I am hosting at my house is in five days. Oh the to-dos to be done.

Lucky me, Andy was out of town this weekend (I do my best work when he isn't milling around bogging up my work process with critiques and interruptions) and my kids were content to play on their own without much hands-on momming (minus the fights over Buzz Lightyear, a bag of straws and a cardboard box).

This girl loves her dollies.

So after  an easy Fruity Cheerios breakfast and one "Peep" (best cartoon on TV), I threw on some background music for the munchkins and ... (drumroll and fanfare) ... washed my walls. No, I don't have pics, but my house smells like Murphy's Oil Soap, AKA heaven.

And I washed sheets and cleaned bathtubs.

And made the grocery list of all grocery lists (the actual shopping will happen Tuesday; I hate grocery shopping on Saturdays). And piled recipe cards.

And did not feel the least bit guilty about giving my kids crackers and peanut butter and Go-gurt for lunch because I threw in clementines and craisins.

Today was a big deal, friends. My number two complaint about being a working mom (number one is that I miss my kids) is that there is no way to squeeze all the homey work into one day, which generally means  stuff goes undone from one week to the next. But not today. Huzzah!

And now, at 9:03 p.m., the only two things on the day's to-do list that have yet to be conquered are:
1) Sign Porter up for spring soccer (why is it that I always forget the things with deadlines or appointments?), and 2) Get Halloween on the blog. Because my mom loves Halloween and may disown me if she doesn't get to see her grandbabies on a sugar high.

That was a whole lot of build-up.
Without further ado...

The prelude (Porter's preschool parade).

The beginning. After the first two sets of trick or treaters had already rung our doorbell. Far too anxious to smile or hold still.

The middle.

The sugar-dazed end.

And the reason I am glad my mom forced me to do a practice run with the costumes and the camera since I would be solo parenting on Halloween weekend (Andy's boss has since promised that she will not make him travel over kid-oriented holidays again).

He's flexing his muscles. He LOVED the muscles.

At long last: Halloween, check.

It is now 9:32 p.m., and I only got five of my ten toenails painted during naptime this afternoon.