|Chicken gave me a Warrior Hamster .gif and|
I will treasure it ALWAYS.
Okay-- let's face it. It's the time we stock chocolate in our cupboard "For the kids" that we then eat in massive quantities so that on the actual day itself we have to run for the grocery store and combat the other desperate people there like we're stocking up for the zombie apocalypse.
And it's time to make costumes for the kids.
This year the whole family is into Gravity Falls, which is GREAT because the characters are dressed in very distinctive, easy to obtain clothing.
And it sucks because there's no way I can walk into a store and go, "Hey, I'd like this in a size 14!"
But that's okay-- we've worked very hard to be able to create the perfect Mabel sweater, and tomorrow is going to be my day to totally pony up and do that.
I'm also going to make Dipper a tree hat.
Squish has already made matching sparkly witch hat headbands for herself and Waddles the (stuffed) Pig, and we have a vest and an orange shirt for Dipper. (I plan to draw a big dipper on his forehead too.)
All we need now is a tie and a Fez for Mate (who wants to be Grunkle Stan) and for Chicken's Wendy hat to come in.
Yeah, I know-- nothing really screams "Mom" in these costumes, but that's okay. I've got my Joss Whedon shirt with the "Grr… argh!" zombie and a purple spider hat to match-- I think I'll be okay. I just hope I can make Squish's shirt with enough sparkles. I mean, rhinestone letters for her name, and sparkly paint for the rainbow-- I can't lose, can I? (You all know I'm kidding and that the likelihood of me getting sparkles all over the house, myself, and the dogs is high, right?)
But that's okay. I'm actually looking forward to it. I want Squish to go, "See! Mom made my Mabel shirt!"
Cause everyone nows those are the best costumes, right?
So, you know-- if you're used to getting in touch with me tomorrow afternoon and you can't… you know where I'll be.
Eyeball deep in glitter-paint and sinking fast!
And loving being a parent, because this age doesn't last for too long. (Or if it does, your grown kids can get their own damned costumes.)