Stuffola

Ike opted out of soccer this year to do flag football (one sport per season rule for sanity's sake). He loves it and has scored lots of touchdowns. Unfortunately, it gets freakin' cold during his games so Hub and I have had to swap fan duties. he's the blondie in the green shirt running w/ the ball

**We also had the annual carving of the pumpkins. The kids design their own and are in charge of scooping out the guts while Hub does all the hard labor. I have the job of keeping hands away from knives and watching DWTS. Good thing I can multitask.

**We had our annual C Fam Halloween party. Always fun--good food, good cousins, good games, pinatas and a spook alley the kids went through about 7 times each. Can't go wrong with that formula.
Ike as a beardless Santa

Mitch as Harry, courtesy of Auntie T

Noelle as a fairy

Ethan as Superman, courtesy of Auntie A (gotta love having loaning relatives)

Hub incorporated a radio into his costume so he could be anti-social and have one ear on the BYU game. From the final score, you'll know it wasn't worth it.

Syd doesn't believe in dressing up because she has too many of my genes in her. Now I have to stop messing with downloading pictures and feed my family. Wouldn't it be great if children came with stomach's already full? Just a thought for the next world...

Permy

Did you know permy wasn't a word? I tried to use it in an exciting game of Scrabble last night with Hub, but it was a no go. I use it as an adjective all the time like "She has permy hair." And "How many permy teeth does your child have?" (OK, that last one wasn't true. I'm just getting creative now.) But who knew it wasn't a legit way to describe wavy hair?

On that note, you can tell this post has no real direction. So let's continue with the lack of theme, shall we?

Here's how I like my decorated Halloween sugar cookies:

A touch of frosting and one candy corn that is easily removed and given to someone who appreciates them.

Then there is Isaac....

We're still not even sure if there is an actual cookie underneath all the candy corn.


**And in Sydney news...

She's mobile.

She now can go get her own LEGOs to eat, follow me into any room I try to escape to but also entertains herself a little bit more.

She also can have a front row seat to her brothers' wrestling parties. As long as she is enthralled then I won't worry about her exposure to violence.


There actually have been some more eventful things happening, but a post with a picture of a sugar cookie and a complaint about my Scrabble word was all I was up for today. My prerogative, friends. (hey, that word would probably be worth a few good points...)

Oldness

The last few days I have come to this shocking revelation: I am getting old. Here is a small sampling of the evidence redneck style...
YOU KNOW YOU'RE GETTING OLD
** when you don't cry when you get your hair chopped off several inches by a non-professional. (so my sis convinced me she had watched enough you-tube videos on hair cutting to know what she was doing. Not quite convinced, but you can't beat a free haircut!)

** when you about pass out from playing 4 straight tennis games. And you kindof want to throw up at the end.

** when you are chaperoning the YM/YW indexing party that is supposed to go until midnight and you are silently praying the whole time that the kids will just beg to go home early. And of course they don't so you take your anger out by beating a poor deacon soundly at air hockey.

**when you actually enjoy Women's Conf. and General Conf. and not just because you can watch them in your jammies.

I'm sure there are more reasons, but that might involve too much introspection and I said I was getting old, not mature!