It is that brief moment in time when they get to dress up as their dream character, villain, or hero, and really show it off.

A lot.

Maybe even too much.

I think someone’s been watching Dorothy’s evil flying monkeys a bit too much.

Oh, and, have I ever mentioned that our great, great, great, great, great, (add another 4 or so greats in), grandfather was married to the first woman burned as a witch.

Yeah, we haven’t quite let that one go yet.

But either way, Halloween is often a great time to capture a child’s personality on camera.  They are relaxed, uninhibited.  and ready to perform.

Yes, the whole, “feel your character” is definitely happening.  I just keep needing to tell myself that their costume choice and subsequent behavior does not have any bearing on the type of person they really are.

Not at all.

Don’t worry, my mom already asked whom. exactly, do I think I’m kidding.

1. Singing in the car together to really cheesy 80′s songs and looking in my rear view mirror to see them “rocking out” in their car seats.

2.  Being a magnet.  I walk out of the room and within 17 seconds–yes, I’ve timed it–they’ve followed me.

3.  That Little Big Man calls me cutie pie.

4.  That when their brother gets mad at them, they write a card to ask them to be friends again.  That when I scold them for disobedience, they write a card to apologize.

5.  That the “SH” word is shut-up.

6.   That Little Big Man and Mr. Skywalker try their darndest to plant a kiss on my lips . . .”Daddy kisses you like that so why can’t we?”

7.  That when they score a goal, they look at the Mister and I first.

8.  Sitting on the couch next to the Mister and suddenly two of the cutest little boys in town are getting into a knock-down-drag out fight over who gets to sit next to which one of us first.   Holy cow, little boys are crazy.

9.  When one of them is sick and the others ask in their prayers that they’ll get better.

10.  When they insist that we stop everything and watch their new trick or listen to their new joke.

11.  Being able to win the arm wrestle matches.

12.  When the Mister comes home from work and Baby waves his arms like a madman at him, grabs onto his shirt, and promptly drools on him.

13.  That they hold hands when they walk to school together.

14.  When the boys want me to pull the car over so they can get out and pick a flower for me.

15.  That a dime for chores brings a huge smile to their faces.

16.  That it’s cool to play hide-and-seek with your parents.

17.  That Miss Firecracker will impromptu serenade us.

18.  When the Mister tells them that the first one to the bathroom for teeth brushing gets a hug and they go tearing down the hall.  And the one that is not first is so disheartened that he gets a hug too.

19.  That more than anything, they want to spend time with the Mister and I.

Sometimes.

And what shining, very brief, moments they can be!

This is something that works for us. . .for now.  We’ll check again in a month or week, or hour or two.  You see, they unfortunately have that “I’m-going-to-keep-you-guessing-and-never-let-you-have-a-worry-free-night-of-sleep-again-in-your-entire-life-ENTIRE-LIFE!-muwhahahah!” component that all children come with.

But for now, this is something that works.

We call it “Room Time.”

Each child gets their own turn, every Sunday afternoon, Mom and Dad all to themselves.

They choose the activity and they run the show.

What they’ll pick to do always varies.  But they certainly have their favorites.  One will go for coloring, acting out a battle with their pirates, or pulling out the play-doh drawer and a million and one accessories.  Another will demonstrate karate moves, challenge us to checkers, or run up and down the driveway popping bubbles as we furiously blow more for him.  And another will go for a game of monopoly, a drawing lesson, or help in editing a video on the computer.

I think they love it because they are the focus and because, at least for now, it’s not such a bad thing to have Mom and Dad watching you.

Sometimes they will let a sibling join in and sometimes they don’t. It’s their choice.

We rarely miss a Sunday – - they are sticklers about holding us to it.

My favorite part?  That they want us there.

Or at least at one time I thought it didn’t.  I would ask them something, then I’d ask a little louder, and then I’d ask with my super serious no-nonsense-voice, and then I’d just plain out yell.

Phew, they heard that.

But after awhile, for some unfathomable reason, they didn’t even hear the yell.

And yet they had the uncanny ability to hear the ice cream truck,. . .when it was still three blocks over.  And they could hear the opening of a bag of Oreo’s,. . .when they were on the other end of the house.

And even more, the hearing tests said everything was just fine with their auditory senses.  It was confirmed to me too, by Little Big Man of course, after a yelling episode on my part–to get out the blasted door!–that he stopped, looked me straight in the eye with those mischievious sometimes-blue-and-sometimes-green-eyes, and said with perfect nonchalance.

“OK, Mr. Yeller.”

I was floored.  He was right on.  And I burst out laughing.  Leave it to my five-year-old to once again, bring me back down to reality.

In actuality I hid my face so he wouldn’t see me laughing and take to calling me that permanently.

And it is on days like this that the Mister comes home and inevitably asks with sweet sincerity, “How was your day, Honey?”

And I, inevitably, have to bite my tongue from answering, “Ha! Ha!  Very funny.  Which one of them put you up to it?  Hmmm?  Which one?!”

But besides their hearing, I did think of something else in our family’s life that works.  Something that the Mister and I have implemented as a parenting technique.  And as a full time stay-at-home mom, I grab onto these things, with both hands, and fully and completely bask in them,. . .bask in them as long as I darn well can hang on.

But, before I post about something that works, I want to share something that does not work.

Because I’m the kind of person that prefers to hear the bad news before I hear the good news.

Personally, as a classic guilt-ridden mother, I was able to think of a slew of things in our life that do not work so well.  But, I was curious to see what the Mister would say.  I thought he might take it as one of those trick questions, like, “How does this dress make me look.”  I thought he might wrap his arms around me and say, “Does it really matter?”  And I even thought he might not be able to come up with anything at all.

So I asked.

“Honey, is there anything we do as a family that you think might not always work so well?  You know, something we need to–”

“Morning routine.”

“What?”

“Morning routine.”

“Well that was kind of quick.   Are you sure?”

And then he looked at me, going so far as to give me the eyebrow raise.

I laughed, because it was absolutely, utterly true.

But his eyebrows narrowed.  “I’m glad you think it’s funny.”

And I laughed louder, before giving him a full-on scowl with even better narrowed eyebrows, because mine are shaped.

And he laughed.

Yes, our morning routine of getting everyone out the door to school and work and what-not is a perfect example of something that doesn’t work as well as it could.  People rushing, lines at the bathroom, flurry in the kitchen, all of the usual stuff.

We probably could get up a little earlier. 

Or chat a little less.

Yes, there is no doubt room for improvement.  And it will come,. . .in time.  All in good time.

Yes, everything.

Oh, I need to go easier on the prunes next time! 

Momma, you did not just catch that on camera.

New running shoes.

Old running shoes.

The old ones will now be reduced to wear-around-town or when-working-in-the-yard shoes.

And here’s the nerdy part, for ya. . .

I mentioned about pronation and detecting if you yourself are a pronator.  It’s always much easier to detect this with a comparison between old shoes and new ones.

Does pronation really matter?  Not too much.   Unless you are having a lot of pain when walking or running.  The foot arch may be falling in and more support necessary.  Usually a doctor or even an experienced running store clerk can tell this by just looking at your foot.  But the layman can often tell by just looking at one’s shoes.

There, short nerdy segment over.

Now for my favorite part.

Forgive me.  I could just spend all day patting that little bottom and wiggling those little legs.

What makes your heart melt?  Other than looking at stinky old running shoes.

Whether I like it or not.

I know it’s usually good for me.

I know it’s the only way to really grow.

And I know it can sometimes be difficult.

It’s not always what I would choose.

Actually, I know very well that I’d choose chocolate, children, the beach, and the Mister always with us.  But my behind would get big, I’d drive the children crazy, the constant sand in the car would drive me crazy, and the Mister would finally be driven to say those dreaded words, “So,. . .this is what you do all day?”

Change.  A very simple, very loaded word that I shall embrace.  Embrace or die. Besides, it’s kind of the salt of life.  Keeps it a bit exciting. . .usually in a very good way.

Can you guess the change coming for us below?  And what changes is your journey giving you?

You know you have successfully sleep deprived your grown-up to her limit when. . .

. . .she goes to sleep in her pajamas and wakes up in her running clothes. . .and doesn’t remember any of it.

True story.

And it’s not a nice picnic in the park with my checked blanket, Lingonberry basket, and Grandma.  But Grandma was actually invited to the event. And she most certainly came.

Grandma likes a good mess as much as the next grandkid.

This is good time family fun at the park.  Or maybe just our fire-hazard-zone version of firecrackers. I do plan on trying it on the next Fourth of July picnic.

I got the idea from a friend of mine this last June.

You just feed a few Mentos into the bottle.  Three or four is great.

But be quick about it!

And voila!  You have your volcano.

But remember to bring lots of ammo.  Each bottle only works once.  We tried to combine soda from one bottle into another after having used both.  No go.  But more important than that, nothing attracts a crowd of boys like an explosion!   Any kind of explosion!  And you don’t want to have to be the one to tell them that the ammo is all gone.   But if you are, remember they’re growing boys – - distract them with food from that picnic basket.

And if you want to see some video of this fun in action. . .

Baby is officially mobile.  No more blob stage.  No more wailing at me as I walk by.  Nope, the kid actually comes after me, grabs onto the folds of my skirt, and HANGS on.

Little Big Man must have been coaching him.

But nevertheless, it is time to close your bedroom doors, sweep the wood floor, and gather the fuzz and small pets, ’cause Baby’s coming to town.

And he will take no prisoners.

It was only a month or two ago that we were at that lovely helpless beached whale phase with the fluttering limbs.

And then came the happily rolling everywhere. . .into couches, up against walls, and under rocking chairs?!

And of course, then we went through the rocking on all fours stage, and army crawl stage, and splat back on the belly stage.  But just when we thought he’d get that coordination of one arm and one leg at the same time,. . .

. . .he stopped.

And went back to the beached whale.

The Mister would look at him with great trepidation, as only a father can look at their boy.

What’s wrong?

Nothing.  He’ll get it.   Aka, Don’t worry, he will be a strapping young man that can throw the ball across the court.

But what’s wrong?  He was nearly there.

And so I started to get concerned.  Maybe I did hold him and squeeze him too much and not give him enough of that good old fashioned tummy time.  But before I enrolled him for baby zumba at the gym, I asked the pediatrician.

He is probably just developing in other areas.  They like to shelf one area of development and focus on another.

Ah, yes.  You mean the lovely 6:00AM chats he’s resumed with his fingers and toes?  

But even with the good doctor’s reassurances, I walked into the bedroom one morning,. . .

. . . to behold,. . .

. . .in utter horror,. . .

. . .the Mister placing Baby’s hands and knees in coordinating positions, moving him along the ground in proper “crawl” style.

What are you doing?  Have you forgotten where this is headed? 

It couldn’t hurt.

And sure enough, Baby made good on Daddy’s secret training lessons just a few short weeks later.

Sometimes he gets a bit excited and leaves his wallet. . .and a few other things. . .behind.

The upside?  He will single handedly clean the floors if I don’t.

And he’s perfectly happy to do it.