Autumn Musings

As I might have mentioned before, I absolutely love Fall. If one were to ask my favorite season of all time, I would of course say Christmas, but here's the deal: Fall means Christmas is coming.... My father actually coined a saying for it- the "ober" months. Meaning, once we reach the months that end in "ber" we can begin the countdown to Christmas. (My father actually begins the countdown to Christmas in January, but that is only because he loves lamenting how much he HATES the plethora of "white sales" that abound in January).
But to me, Fall not only brings the promise of the holiday season on the horizon, but it carries its own sense of nostalgia that surround the festivities of Halloween and Thanksgiving.

There is something peaceful about Fall, it brings a sense of contentment intermingled with the excitement of a new beginning. I know, I know, what about dead, falling leaves signals renewal to me when it would be more appropriately attached to the new blossoms of Spring? It perhaps dates back to my school days when Fall meant a new year, sometimes a new wardrobe and a new adventure at school. I love the cool, crisp mornings that turn into pleasantly warm afternoons. You never know how to dress...anxiousness to break out the cold-weather clothes in the brisk morning seems suitable especially after a summer of wearing out your shorts, but still needing to sport the sandals and T-shirts in the afternoon. And don't even get me started on pumpkin scented candles from Roberts. At the rate I burn through those things every year, you'd think I'd own half the shares in Roberts stocks by now. Seriously.

I love pumpkin carving and all the festive activities around town, places like Gardner Village and Thanksgiving Point are some of my favorite spots to catch the spirit of the season. I keep trying to get David to go to one of those outrageously priced haunted houses that I used to frequent in my single days (what better ice breaker on a date than to be practically jumping in your date's arms every time you hear a chainsaw?), but I suppose $20 for 10 minutes of pimple-faced high school teenagers jumping out at you isn't really money well spent when I could get the same thrill out of watching Friday the 13th at home. But as I sit here I can think of plenty of memorable moments I have had with friends (many of whom read this blog) at some of those ridiculous haunted sites. Remember when they would actually have a haunted house at the mental hospital here and they used real patients??? What kind of crazy idea was that...too bad they don't do it anymore.
Come to think of it, I seem to remember that our theater group in high school was required to work one of the haunted houses when I was a sophomore (NOT the mental hospital one...sheesh). I can't remember details, but the memory brings up this horrible feeling of embarrassment and it is possible that I actually hid from the patrons (rather than them from me) the entire time to avoid being recognized in any way.
But back to the present, I must admit that the beginning of this week was really tough and honestly it really hasn't gotten all that better in a lot of aspects. But just sitting here allowing myself to indulge in the wistful moments of Falls past has made me feel so much better. Plus my kids have been doing some pretty cute things lately that bring a smile to my face every day.
Zander found a new way to store his shoes and no matter how many times I move them, I keep finding them back where he thinks they belong:

He also insists that I put this over sized fireman jacket of Ashton's on him all day long. The thing is, the minute I put it on him, he takes it off and then demands immediately that I put it back on. This cycle continues until I find a way to distract him and quickly hide the jacket. But dang it if that kid doesn't find it again somehow and the whole thing starts over. This is how our mornings go when Ashton is at school (note that the jacket is Ashton's and Zander knows very well that he can only play with it when Ashton is gone).


And speaking of Ashton, the rate this little guy is growing up and learning is astounding me. Maybe all parents think this of their first child, but I believe he is a genius. It seriously seems like yesterday when I asked him to draw me a picture and it was all he could do to just hold the pen upright and make a few scribble lines. For show and tell this last week at his kindergarten class, they were supposed to bring something to do with apples and he wanted to draw a picture. I braced myself for how it would turn out and within minutes Ashton was showing me this masterpiece:

Where did this come from? Do you even see the detailing creases on the worm people? For one brief moment I understood why some parents choose to home school their children. Someone was teaching Ashton how to draw and write words and it wasn't me.... I remember the first day of preschool last year when I showed up with Ashton who was still just three at the time and gawked in horror as I saw all the other children sitting at the table writing their names and coloring IN the lines. Was I supposed to have already taught him that? What kind of horrible parent was I?
I am going to make a renewed effort to be a bigger part of his education and instead of just reading to him at night, we are trying to point out familiar letters and sounds so that I can feel like I am having some impact on his growing knowledge. And besides, who wouldn't want a little more face time with this character:


Life is good. Despite the chaos that surrounds us, the little moments can still be found and cherished.