Off we go a-haunting. . .

**Updated**

The adorable fireman's jacket that Dax is wearing has been in the family for almost a decade. My sister-in-law bought it for her son when he was about Dax's age, and since then about 4 nephews have worn it. Each time it gets worn it gets a little more tatered and a little more dirty...just like a true fireman. Wyatt was the perfect fire doggie, except he really had no desire to have a wet black nose. But I think he is still pretty cute!

A few weeks ago Austin and I went to a couple's Halloween party and were required to dress up as famous character couples from TV or movies. We went as Clark Kent and Lois Lane. Even though we didn't win best costume, we did win a iPod nano! Yahoooo!

Dax saw us all dressed up as we left for the party and kept telling everyone that his Dad was Superman. Austin, being the great dad that he is, decided he better dress up as Superman for Halloween. Dax didn't quite know who I was, but decided I needed to be a butterfly. So, I went and bought some wings so we could all dress up together on Halloween night. We headed over to my mom and dad's for chili before Trick or Treating and felt a little silly that no one else dressed up. But when we got back to our neighborhood to meet up with friends, there were tons of adults dressed up walking around with their kids! We had so much fun, and I know Dax was excited that his dad was Superman and his mom was a butterfly!!

Boo to you from our crew!!

1st Annual

Trick or Treat, smell my feet
give me something good to eat.

Tonight we started a tradition that I think might last for years to come.

I’m calling it the MacGillivray Night of Frights and Spooky Delights.

Except that is kinda long and really hard for a 2 year old to say, so I’ll give it some thought to maybe shorten it. But for now, that’s what we are calling it.

This year, things were simple. The boys picked out pumpkins. While they carved, I was the ghostess with the mostess. I secretly prepared a spooktacular dinner in the kitchen, decorated the table and played some spooky music.

I'm hoping as the years go by, this tradition will evolve.

Maybe each of the kids will be allowed to invite one friend over. Maybe there will be a pumpkin carving contest. Of course we'll have the dinner. Afterwards, maybe there will be a scary movie, or maybe The Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown, whichever one. I'd vote for option B, but I might not count one of these days. And maybe I'll be the mom that embarrasses her sons and his friends by dressing up as a Witch the whole night. And while they are watching the scary movie that I got out voted on, maybe Austin could scare them with fangs just to add to the memories.... and nightmares! That sounds like fun!

For me, The 1st Annual MacGillivray Night of Frights and Spooky Delights couldn't have been more fun. Traditions are all about being with your loved ones and making memories, and that's exactly what we did!!

A bootiful witcy brew - I melted chocolate and painted ghost faces on some glasses and chilled them in the fridge. Right before dinner I filled the glass with a yummy vanilla shake.

Be Nice to your Mummy - For these little mummy's I made porcupine meatballs, spooned out the middle of a baked potatoe, then criss-crossed string cheese across the top for the bandages. For fun I added pickels and M&M's for the legs and eyes.

love love love

25 Things Wyatt Loves....

Drinking out of Dax’s Diego cup
Using his mom as a jungle gym
Taking baths and splashing
When his dad comes home from work
Getting tickles under his chin
Tupperware and toothbrushes
Blabbing
Sticking his tongue out
His musical Snoopy
Crawling away at the speed of lightening when I change his diaper
Door stops
Earrings and necklaces
Playing hide-and-go-seek under the kitchen table
Going for walks
Eating “real” people food
Looking out the window
Playing trains in Dax’s room
Finding the tiniest morsel of food on the floor and putting it into his mouth
Smiling at strangers while out shopping
Cheerios
Cords
Blowing raspberries
Sitting outside on the grass
Playing peek-a-boo
His brother

What’s the one thing I love most about Wyatt these days?

This smile (oh, and the snaggle tooth coming in)!!

Guitar Hero

As we leave grandma and grandpa’s house, Dax quietly asks, “Mom. Can I take this home?”

“No, Dax. It stays here,” I say hoping against hope that this answer doesn’t result in a total melt down. It is already past bedtime on an already long Sunday tacked on to an over jammed weekend.

“But can I play with it when we come back?”

“Yes, of course,” I say and softly guide him towards the toy box to put it away. Pheww. He handled that pretty good.

The second Dax puts it down, one of the other cousins grab it. I look at his face and can tell he is heartbroken to leave it. It’s his most beloved toy at my mom and dad’s house. It’s the one that all the grandkids can play with alike; all the way from the oldest to the youngest, boy or girl. Even Wyatt had a few seconds with it before a bigger, faster cousin swiped it away. He just moved on to something else. He doesn’t quite have the love for it just yet, but he will. It’s the toy that was purchased at a garage sale for a dollar but would cause buckets and buckets of tears by all twelve grandchildren if it ever broke. It’s the toy that even on its loudest setting doesn’t bother me. It’s the toy that makes me smile when I see the kids playing with it.

It’s the Sesame Street guitar.

When we left the house on Sunday night, Dax proclaims, “I love playing that guitar”. I love how he says guitar, just like a cowboy with a twang. It made me smile because I love watching him play that guitar.

I would love for Dax to have the exact same one at home. But truthfully, it really wouldn’t be as fun. Part of the fun of this toy is that it stays exclusively at grandmas and grandpas. I would never want to take the fun of it away by having the same exact one at our house. Nor do I think I could ever find one like it anywhere.

But, I thought something along the same lines might be fun. So yesterday, this is what I came up with.

You would have thought I invented a light bulb with how excited Dax was when this little creation was complete. He didn’t want me to cover it with paper, or give the suggestion of him taking some markers to it, or even wear the perfect zebra print guitar strap ribbon I had stashed in my closet. He wanted music on right then and there so he could rock out. It’s was so funny to watch him play, even on his shoebox/rubberband guitar. He does this move that I’ve learned is called the Duck Walk. He jumps on one leg and can move his other foot back-and-forth all while he’s playing. And his favorite is running and sliding on his knees across the tile. He really looks the part…and I have no idea where he got these moves. Either way, I was totally entertained listening to him play.

As I’m watching him I decide, one day, as soon as he is old enough, I think he would love taking guitar lessons. I would sign him up as soon as he was ready. I started daydreaming as he sat on the couch concentrating on plucking those guitar strings how fun it would be to have him play songs for the family around the campfire when we are camping, or maybe even play nursery rhymes for any future little babies who come along. He could play in the school talent show and at Christmas parties. It would be so much fun to have someone with musical talent in the house.

Then I pictured him wanting to start a grunge band in the garage. He's already got the holey jeans.

And then, maybe 10 or 12 years from now when he asks me if he can, I would think, “This is all my fault.”

And then I would probably smile again.

Footie Jammies

The past few days have been, dare I say, COLD!

Last night there was just enough of a little nip in the air to pull out the footie jammies. I forget how much I loved Dax in these kinda of jammies, and now it’s Wyatt’s turn. There is just something so darn cute about them. Maybe its how his diaper bums looks in them, or how he looks extra tall and skinny, or how his little crawl makes a shhh….shhh….shhh sound. Whatever it is, I can’t get enough of them and I am so happy it’s finally that time of year.

What else do footie jammies mean? It means we can finally go on bike rides and walks and play at the park without having to be a 5-gallon thermos of ice water. The boys can finally play outside, for longer than 10 minutes, and not have to let the adventure in the great outdoors involve any type of water or swimsuit; two good things. They mean I can finally cook dinner in the oven instead of the BBQ without worrying how blistering hot it will make the house. We can finally sleep with the windows open (maybe even a cover or two if it’s really cold) instead of running the a/c all night. It means I can finally turn on the water in the kitchen sink and have it be cold the second it comes out rather than letting it run for 2 minutes to cool the warm water down. It means Wyatt can finally wear cute shoes without feeling bad that his little feet will sweat right off. It means I can finally curl up on the couch with a warm….

Wait! What’s this? 97 degrees by Friday? Scratch that!

Oh well. Footie jammies---what a cute preview of things to finally come…one day!!

There’s No Buddy like a Brother

My mom gave me a cute sign when Wyatt was born that says “There’s no Buddy Like a Brother”. I love it. I love how true it is. And for some reason today, I was thinking a lot about it.

You’d probably think I was witnessing a loving interaction between the two; Dax with his halo and Wyatt with his sweet squeals laughing at his brother and adoration in both their eyes.

Wrong!

What made me think of this quote, how there is no ‘buddy’ like a brother, was when I had to explain to Dax what a “cheap shot” and a “sucker punch” was. Seriously.

This morning Dax worked some pretty major WWF moves on Wyatt without the poor little guy even seeing it coming. I had to explain to Dax that it wasn’t fair for him to body slam his brother, especially when Wyatt has no idea it’s coming. Forget the lecture that Dax is two years older, 20 pounds heavier, knows how to run, knows how to talk, and so on and so forth. We’ve been through all that, and it doesn’t hold any bearing at all.

So we have a new rule. No cheap shots and no sucker punches.

Well, that’s only the rule for the time being.

I think during one of these smackdowns, me and Wyatt had a moment. Dax was performing some super flying clothesline, neck binder, drop kick, belly bounce move, and Wyatt and I made eye contact. Wyatt wasn’t crying, he wasn’t squealing, and he wasn’t yelling. I knew he knew I was sorry his brother was going crazy. But, I honestly think Wyatt didn’t care. He was thinking that one day, not too far off, he was going to get Dax back. He was going to be able to put Dax in a head hold, and fire punch Dax in the stomach, and super clothesline him.

And I may have to pad the walls and buy new furniture and make a few hundred trips to the emergency room, but Wyatt deserves to get his revenge.

Because really, at the end of the day, there truly is no buddy like a brother.

Toddler Diet

My doctor talked to me about Dax’s diet after his second birthday. She called it the “toddler diet”. The diet where he would suddenly be more picky about what he eats. And probably turn his head away after just a few bites. Or refuse coming to the table all together. She said to just offer him a variety of food and not to worry because he would eat when he was hungry. After last week, I almost called her.

I was concerned.

Then I kept a record for a day:

1 container of apple sauce
½ strawberry pop-tart
1 bowl of Kix
A glass of milk
A bowl of Pretzels
3 M&M's
Scooby Doo fruit snacks
The other half of the strawberry pop-tart
2 servings of creamy black bean salsa chicken casserole
2 oranges
A glass of juice
Another bowl of pretzels
A bowl of Wyatt’s dry cheerios (which would explain why Wyatt was crying in the back seat and Dax was quiet)
String cheese
A banana
Batman fruit snacks
Zwieback toast (again, Wyatt’s)
1 entire sloppy-joe
8 sun chips
3 cucumber slices
6 grape tomatoes
A total of 8 candy corn's for going potty
Topped off with a glass of milk before bed

My toddler isn’t picky. He eats anything. He doesn’t turn his head away from food. He asks for more. He doesn’t refuse to come to the table. He won’t leave it.

Am I worried? Yes, because there is another little guy hot on his trail. And two growing teenage boys keep flashing through my mind.