The little boy is eating a bowl of goldfish crackers with a blob of frosting as a dip.  I know, I know, mom of the year.  Shhhh, I’m trying to block out your thoughts on that.

It’s really cold today. Well, cold for San Diego anyway.  It’s 42 degrees outside and it feels like 42½ in the house.  Brrrrr.

We just spent a few minutes on the patio, taking the day’s pictures and blowing some giant bubbles.

The boy headed out there in a thin pair of shorts and a tee shirt at first.  The temperature was my ally in finally convincing him to try on his new Mario pj pants instead.

He picked out the whole set online with me, but has adamantly, inexplicably, consistently refused to wear them.  So frustrating for the money-spending-doesn’t-have-time-to-go-back-to-the-mall mom.

They’re exactly the same as all his other pj’s, with the exception that they actually fit him and all of the others are now too small.  Sigh.  Some kind of autism thing.  Or kid thing.  Maybe he saw a bug on them or maybe Mario scares him now or something.  I’ll never know.

But today, he’s wearing them.  Victory!

I have been chiseling away at the mountain of stuff I need to clean up, put away, alter, hang, take down, sort, re-paint, etc. before the holidays.  It’s slow going.  I was on my feet a lot yesterday, but I feel like the house looks the same and now my foot hurts more.  Damn foot.  Heel, really.  It’s mostly the heel.

It’s hard to feel productive when most of the day is dedicated to figuring out the boy, following him around and cleaning up whatever he leaves in his bubbly little wake.  The upstairs bathroom floor is a battleground I’ve yet to conquer and I’m dreading it more and more.  It’s pee territory, you know?  His aim gets better every day, but he still misses a lot.  Sigh.  Life with a boy.

Our schedule is full today.  And somewhere in it, I’ve got to squeeze out time for coloring the hair.  Getting kind a gray and scary up there and Halloween is over.

Speaking of Halloween, the pumpkins are really flattening out.  I’ve decided that on November 30, if Mother Nature hasn’t beat me to it, I’m going to chop them to bits with our sharpest shovel.  Won’t that be fun?  Those of you with an aversion to the pictures of their demise should be elated by this decision.  I’m sort of melancholy about it myself, but resigned to it just the same.

Here they are, with a few pix of the little boy too.


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P.S. I hope you aren’t tired of the pictures of our red camelia.  I am intrigued with its progress.  Roses show themselves so much faster.  The camelia takes its time and seems to like the cooler temperatures.  I love looking to see how much more pink is there each day.  I am so hopeful that this plant will survive in our yard and get bigger each year.  The last camelia we had was in a pot and it finally just gave up.  They are such pretty flowers when they’re healthy and I have always wanted to grow them.