Tricks, treats, and teenagers...

So the boys were dressed like a vampire (Johnny) and a magician (Mikey) and had a lot of fun getting ready for trick-or-treating. Layers of turtle necks and thermal underwear under costumes made them warm, and we only planned to do a quick run through the neighborhood. I think the bunny perched on Mikey's hat was my favorite detail :) So trick-or-treating commenced! We decided to start at the end of the neighborhood where Johnny's bus pal lived, and then work our way back. Unfortunately, we had to pass playground to get there. Mikey decided that he would rather slide than hunt for treats, which would have been fine if it weren't so cold and getting colder by the minute.

So a few quick runs down the slide, and I had to drag a howling magician down the street protesting with every step, bunny flopping on his mad little head. Meanwhile, chants of "I want Mama, I want Mama..." were behind me as Johnny decided only I could hold his hand, not Daddy, and he didn't want to carry his plastic pumpkin after all.

Mikey finally got on board, but instead of yelling trick or treat, he would run inside the house we were visiting, I would chase after him, Johnny would shout, "I'm coming toooooooo!" and Steve would be shaking his head and apologizing to the house owners. In the end, we lost our camera, got two pumpkins full of candy, and made it home in one piece in under 25 minutes. We actually had a fun, albeit interesting, time. Like I told Steve, it wouldn't be Halloween if there weren't some tears, some embarrassment, and a little bit of disaster. Then I realized my camera had fallen out of Steve's jacket somewhere along the way...

He went back out (darkness had fallen) and came home to report he didn't find it, but did interrupt some preteens making out in the neighborhood playground.... They begged him to not tell their parents, and Steve (probably more embarrassed than they were) quickly assured them he was looking for something he lost during trick or treating, no problem, as you were... and beat a fast retreat.

About ten minutes later, two sheepish and red faced kids came to our door. After Steve left (who didn't have time to look around the playground as he was completely  mortified that he interrupted two little lovebirds) they scoured the playground and found my camera and brought it to our house. 

Kids crack me up.

a clean, well-lighted place...

I don't know about you, but I never fail to be amazed at how helpless I feel when the power goes out. I tend to swear more and get obsessed with odors. It's true. Stumbling around in the dark, trying to find the candles and matches, I stub my toes and swear like a sailor, and suddenly notice every smell. Obviously because I am deprived of visual stimulation, my other senses compensate. And not in a good way.

The cat litter box suddenly is unbearable (even though I just scooped the damn thing) and the odor of last night's rotisserie chicken dinner haunts my kitchen (even though I did the damn dishes last night).

See what a potty mouth I become when deprived of electricity?

But you, you clever thing, are wondering how on earth am I blogging about my blind and smelly ordeal if I am electrically challenged?

I am at McDonald's, basking in their lights and sounds. Coffee never tasted so good :)

I needed to indulge. Try getting two five-year-olds ready for school in complete darkness. Mikey kept sneaking around behind me, then shouting "HappyBirthday! MakeAWish!" and then blowing out the previously glowing candles. Thankfully I had laid out clothes the night before (which I rarely do so I am shocked at my ESP) so I didn't have to dig for clothes in the dark.

Now that the sun is up, I should go home and clean my perpetually messy craft room. I had planned a day of ironing new fabric and sewing new aprons (I will be at Porter's Orchard this weekend for a little festival) but since I apparently need electricity to iron and sew, I guess I will clean and organize. Maybe Mother Nature is trying to tell me something...

Oooh, but before I do that, I will do a little more playing. I went to the Country Living website this morning after being inspired by the pictures at Moxie Fab, and found the most fun thing ever! It is called, "Be the Appraiser" where you have to try to guess what antiques are worth, and once you do you get to read about the antique in question, and learn its origin... so I am a total nerd, okay? I'm cool with that... Antiques Roadshow is one of my all-time favorite shows, so I get to play I'm on that show. I'm not very good at it, but that doesn't mean it isn't fun :)

Hope you have a bright, light-filled day!

The studio... in real life :)

I posted pictures of my studio a few days ago, and have had such lovely comments from you lovlies out there! My parents are coming for a visit tomorrow, so I will have to tell my dad how well his craft table was received :) I warned readers to look quick, as it will never be that clean again...

I just brewed a pot of coffee (it is after 10:30pm) and plan on heading downstairs soon to my new favorite place in the house. I thought I would share some more pictures, too. I don't think I mentioned before that my creative space is only half the basement (which believe me, to a girl who used to scrap on the kitchen island while trying to cook pancakes at the same time... very grateful!) ... the other half is a family area. Ok, fine, it is the twins' area to wreak havoc. The make forts out of the loveseat cushions, bring every toy they own to spread on the floor, try to convince me that picnics in the basement are a good idea, and pretty much thoroughly enjoy themselves.

And if you look closely at this picture, you will see that it isn't a child-free zone...

There is about 12 inches between my work table and the loveseat. So much fun to try to stand on mama's table and jump onto the loveseat.

I have decided to pick my battles.





Yes, you can come look at the pretty papers.
No, you can't jump off the table.
Yes, you can arrange all my wood mounted stamps in a row.
No, the Crop-o-dile is not a toy.
Yes, you can pick two buttons to glue to make your "own card."
No, you can't taste the glue...

And so it goes. I don't think I have mentioned it here or not, but my boys turned four just last July, and they both have been diagnosed with Autism. If you are familiar with autism, you know it is a wide spectrum. Johnny's autism is more mild, whereas Mikey struggles a bit more. Mikey loves my craft area. His favorite thing is to line up all my stamps, and to line the edges of my table with his dinosaurs. Johnny makes arrangements of pictures, toys, and cups around my sewing machine. Here is Mikey intent on improving my collection of vintage books (that dress form is now in three pieces, by the way. They said it was a trophy and the boys hosted a race to see who would win it... the trophy lost).


While it can be a bit messy, and I may spend a few extra minutes looking for my distress ink (by the dinosaurs, of course! Duh, mom) I love it. I love that I can make a card, tickle my kids, sort some paper, play pirate, work on a scrapbook page, go outside and push the boys on the swingset... Don't get me wrong. Some days are better than others, and some days I can't wait for bedtime. And then there are those moments, when the house is still and quiet, I go into my workspace, see a T-Rex on my chair, and laugh so hard I cry.