|Max is a dragon, and he's been calling me his princess. I'm glad he doesn't call me a witch.|
After a few houses, Max told a man handing out candy "I got enough. No thank you." I think the guy was offended. We were elated.
The most terrifying event of the week was when we had to take our seven week old baby to the emergency room. She fell out of her car seat--head first--onto a hard wood floor. Luckily, she's fine. Parents, be warned that those handles aren't always in position when you think they are.
Max decided Alexandra's boo-boo was okay immediately on impact. Obviously, the experience wasn't nearly as frightening for him. After all, he'd recently been out in the moonlight among people who created a cemetery in their front yard with zombies who handed out candy.
Being the stellar mom that I am, I made the mistake of giving him fodder for nightmares.
In an effort to deter him from picking his nose, I told him that nose goblins might bite off his finger. After a week of Halloween festivities, that is what kept him up last night. This morning he was jubilant. "Mommy! Mommy! I still have my fingers!"