The Whites' Delights

Ugh, I have to share this story about a terribly rude little girl that came trick-or-treating at my house tonight.

My neighborhood is an awesome neighborhood for Halloween. It's so much fun. We have a sidewalk and houses that are relatively close to the road. Hence, we get a LOT of trick-or-treaters from all over town, not just ones who live in the neighborhood. It's awesome to see all of the cute kids and their unique, beautiful and sometimes disturbing costumes (i.e. the giant cockroach that visited me tonight).

Most kids are very polite and say thank you, and about half of them say "Trick-or-Treat." I am one of those people that pretty much makes you say "Trick-or-Treat" to get candy. I mean, come on, like it's that hard! (Note, one little boy hollered out to his friends as he was leaving, "You have to say 'Trick-or-Treat' at this house!") Yes sir, that's right!

Well, tonight this one particular little girl about 11 years old walked up to the door and sassily said, "Do I get a bonus?"

"I beg your pardon," I said.

"A bonus. You know, like I have to guess the answer to a question, and I'll get more candy."

Puzzled, I replied, "Do you mean 'Trick-or-Treat'?" and I handed her a piece of candy.

"All of the other houses are doing it," she said.

"Well, this house isn't playing that game tonight," I politely replied.

She ignored me and continued, "How about I guess how old HE is," pointing at my sweet angel baby (who, by the way, was wearing cute camo overalls and a long sleeved orange onesie - dressed like Daddy).

Some of her friends walked up and she instructed, "Guess how old he is."

"A month." "Two months." They had no clue.

"He is almost one year old," I explained in my sweetest voice. You know, the kind of voice you learned from your kindergarten teacher.

"Oh... Trick-or-Treat," her friends replied. They could care less. They just wanted candy.

Clearly this little girl was not giving up. As I doled out candy to the other kids in her gang, she continued to chatter, and to be honest I had stopped listening.

"Happy Halloween! Have fun!" I smiled and said, encouraging the group to leave.

The little girl still stood there with her arms extended and her Halloween bag open, expecting more candy.

"Now, I already gave you some candy," I sweetly said.

She insisted, "I know. But..." and I just couldn't listen anymore. I'd had enough!

"I don't have enough candy to give you any more," I said politely, even though my patience was running thin. "I won't have enough for everyone else."

She quickly turned, whipped her head around and ran off to catch up with her friends, never even uttering a thank you. I was totally baffled.

Now, could I have given her another piece of candy? Yes. And maybe it would've shut her up. Maybe I could've played her little game. Some people would. But I didn't.

I realize I am about to sound so OLD when I say this, but wow, talk about seeing a sense of entitlement in action. That little girl is probably the "mean girl" of her grade. The one who bosses everyone around. The one who scares the other girls into doing whatever she says, or risk social exclusion. The one who, in another few years, would probably toilet paper my house to get back at me for refusing to play her little game.

So little girl, here is your bonus: "Guess what you say to get candy on Halloween." Answer: "Trick-or-Treat" and "Thank you!"

Just want to document some of my angel baby's favorite things at 11 months and 3 weeks old:

Elmo and "Elmo's World," and well, really all of Sesame Street
Thomas the Train
Cheerios
Baby Mum Mums
Cruising
Playing with Mommy and Daddy
Snuggling with Mommy and Daddy in the morning and trying to climb over the pillows
Sitting on top of Daddy's shoulders
Bottle
"Talking" to Mommy and Daddy
Blanket with tags attached
Blocks, especially knocking over a tower of blocks
Balls, especially crawling after a ball that has rolled away
Pulling his socks off his feet
Bath time
Books, actually just turning the pages of books
Pulling books and magazines off the table onto the floor

Today I felt compelled to share how much I love my "Emma." Emma is the "grandmother nickname" for my mom's best friend in the whole world. In fact, she and my mom were so close, some people mistook them for sisters. All of Emma's grandkids call her Emma, and so does my family. She has been the biggest support and confidant to me since mom passed away.

Call it the scholar in me (you could say nerd or other derogatory name, but I prefer scholar), but before I write about something I like to have a plan in mind, and even research if necessary. Did you know the name Emma means "whole and complete?" I can't believe how perfect this fits my Emma!

My family lost a big piece of the puzzle a few years ago - the piece that held us together without me even knowing. When it all fell apart, Emma was there for me. She listened, supported and encouraged. She was there for me when my mom couldn't. And I know mom is so grateful that I have a strong friend and support in her.

Over the last few years I have devoted a lot of energy and personal growth to putting the pieces of my family back together. Some pieces are bent and torn, some have been chewed on and spit back out and some pieces are just as strong as they were when the puzzle box was opened - if not stronger. They might not all fit together in the same way anymore, but they are all accounted for and equally loved.

Emma is a piece of my family, and now her family is my family, and my family is her family. She has helped to make my family whole and complete again. We love her beyond measure. She is a mother figure for me and my husband, and a grandmother to my son. I love seeing the way my little boy's eyes light up when he sees Emma. It is pure love.

Thank you Emma, for being a solid friend, for your never ending support, for welcoming my family as a part of yours, for laughing with me and crying with me, and (most of all) for loving me.

Tonight I watched how my son is already showing signs of true determination. I think I sat on the floor and watched him repeat an action for a good five minutes (which is a long time in baby time).

We have some double french doors in our living room that open into a sun room. S pulled himself up to lean on on the glass panes while holding a "Little People" pilot in his hand. It appeared he was trying to sit the Little People person on the white trim of the window pane, just barely out of reach. Here is how the activity went:

1. Pull himself up to standing
2. Reach the Little People person up above his head to the window pane
3. Let go of the Little People person
4. Little People person falls to the floor
5. Carefully lean over, bend his knees and sit to the ground, then crawl to pick up the Little People person
6. Repeat

Like I said, this went on for what seemed like forever. He didn't even pay attention to the fact I was sitting there watching him the entire time.

Was it pure, focused, determination? Or signs of stubbornness that comes from his daddy? Only time will tell!