Thursday, November 1, 2007


Last year Garrett was a lion for Halloween. He was three months old and comatose for the majority of the festivities. We went down Main Street and collected candy from the businesses, one of the perks of holding on to our small town identity, even though we're no longer a small town. After Main Street we headed over to our church's Harvest Festival and Grandpa "helped" Garrett play games. He sat still for pictures and stayed where he was put. He looked like this:

This year Garrett was a dragon for Halloween. He was fifteen months old and anything but comatose. We went down Main Street and collected the jackpot of candy, but I think Garrett would have been happy with just one package of Smarties. Hmmm, Mommy and Daddy are happy with the rest of it. Later, at the Harvest Festival, he thought it was his Halloween goal to wreck all the games. He didn't want to bowl. He wanted to take the pins and run away. He didn't want to shoot hoops, he wanted to take the ball and quickly form an escape plan. He didn't want to race cars down the racetrack, he wanted to play with the cars and climb the racetrack. Luckily, my dad (a.k.a. Garrett's best friend) showed up and they played games together again...just like last year. Garrett looked like this:

And I am left wondering where the year went. Quickly and into oblivion and photographs I assume. He is one of the busiest children I have ever come into contact with, and I babysat constantly. He wears me out chasing him around all day long. We could run a small city on his energy. But at night, when he is falling fast asleep and I recap the day and, occasionally, the year, I relish in the joy of being his mother.


  1. I just asked Jon last night what Garrett was going to be and he didn't know, so I said I hoped pictures would be posted soon and yay they were! He makes one cute dragon.

  2. Cute dragon. Very cute. My boy was a dragon too. Great minds think alike!

  3. Yeah, seriously the cutest dragon ever.

  4. What a cool dragon. I wish I coulda helped him play games, but he likes dad more anyways. Here's a blog topic: the sadness of your brother that you're moving. Not a good one? Okay, blog about pits chips. Or LAMS dog food. Or making forts out of blankets. Or sleeping in a dome tent on the trampoline. Or any other nostalgic item from our youths.

  5. And by "pits chips" I mean PITA chips. Thats what I get for not previewing my comment. And I also realize that pita chips are not from our youths, but that was before I got the idea of youthful nostalgia.