Elinor-Age 7

I love this girl. 
I love all my girls.  But this one's on my mind tonight.  She was Indiana Elinor the other day.  She has a most unique fashion sense.  She knows who she is and what she likes.  I hope she never changes.  She's authentic and smart. 

Too smart sometimes.  Yesterday we were driving to pick Clark up from a friend's house.  I've been grouchy lately and Elinor kept asking me for things.  "Can I have some gum?  Can we listen to this?  Can I go play?"  These questions are fair enough, but I wasn't being a very patient mommy.
I told her, "Elinor, you haven't gotten your stuff done, I've had to chase you down about 10 times to get you on task, so you should know that anything you ask me for right now, I will tell you no.  Don't ask me for ANYTHING!"
Then comes the quiet voice from the back.  "Can I ask for forgiveness?"

Aghhhhh!  She got me. She figured out the one thing she could ask for without getting in trouble. She wins.  She's smarter than me. 

 

George has a delightful method of falling asleep.  You wrap him up and he looks right at you and smiles for about 5 minutes straight and then closes his eyes.

Peace.  He is a peaceful soul.  I need a peaceful soul in my life right now.

It's Halloween time.  We plan our driving route in and out of the neighborhood based on which houses have the best Halloween decorations.  My people are carrying on their tradition of homemade Halloween decorations because their mother cannot/will not purchase and then find a place to store decorations for any holiday except Christmas.  I know-- "Boo" Humbug!  Ha ha ha-- that was a good one. 
Anyway, I am impressed with the laundry string of tissue ghosts strung over the stairway. 
Okay I can't help myself.  I am a going to reveal our Halloween theme for the year.  We've decided to get good use of our family's pioneer trek clothing and go "pioneer".
Clark says he will not join us.  We said he could go as an indian and scalp one of his sisters.  Not incentive enough, I guess.  He said he wants to be a werewolf again.  We said great!  Be a wolf that hunts us pioneers on the plains.  He wasn't impressed.  I think we're getting dorkier as he gets older.  That seems pretty healthy I guess.
Abe called me from work the other day suggesting a way that we combine our pioneer theme with Clark's  hope of horror monsters.  In all seriousness, he said, "We could be zombie pioneers.  You know, wear the clothes but do scary make-up". 
"Abe, dearest.  Think about that for just a moment.  Pioneers actually died on the plains.  We CANNOT pretend to be dead pioneers."   He saw my wisdom.