yesterday's numbers. . .

A good day in the number world for us yesterday.

[finally broke out the pedomoter to find out actually how far we walk in the morning. . .]

2804 steps. . .
1.6 miles each morning. . .
over 7 miles a week. . .

grocery game goodness:
watched the cashier total me at 109ish dollars. . .
gave her my stack o coupons. . .
giant eagle grocery total: 78.78
total savings (with coupons and store savings): 54.24

Yay, baby!

Oh, and 50 cents waiting to be used on gas.

This is what motherhood has done to my brain. . .

humming a tune. . .

Every morning I find myself humming a tune as the dogs and I set out on our early morning adventures. Usually it's some little ditty that Lukey has been singing in his preschool class. The past couple weeks I have been humming

Squirrel. . .
Squirrel. . .
shake your bushy tail.
Squirrel. . .
Squirrel. . .
shake your bushy tail.
Wrinkle up your little nose.
Put a nut between your toes.
Squirrel. . .
Squirrel. . .
shake your bushy tail.

Either Miss Lynn would be proud. . .or afraid. . . But I can't seem to get that song out of my head.

Until this morning. . . .

I was humming along on my way. Not really paying attention. Just singing along.
Watching quirky DMZ quickly disapper down a side road with his dogs before I get too close (yep, he's definitely a story for another day).

Humming. Strolling. Keeping up our pace. Turn left. Check out the pumpkin and spider lights. Getting closer to the real haunted house. And that's when I notice it.

The song.

The song I have been humming since I left the house.

Rolling Stones. Paint it Black.



You know the song? The one that accompanies Kevin Bacon through Stir of Echoes. What the heck is wrong with me? Am I trying to entice the spirits out to me on the street?

Dear Sam asked me last night if a head lamp would make me feel better as we had our morning walk.

Ha!

So sweet. So naive.

Told him that perhaps a cross, some holy water, and maybe a stake might do it.

He suggested I bring Blade with me.

Now he's talking. . .

mama rule #152

You must hold my hand when we are crossing the street (or parking lot).

This rule is usually met with wild screams of let me go! No! I do it! As I look desperately down hoping not to be accused of kidnapping my own, wild child.

Master Luke believes that holding his own hands should count as following Mama Doctrine.

Creative.

Cute.

Good try, buddy. Not with this Mama.

this little face. . .

aaachhooo! . . . .

aaachhooo! . . . .

(he inherited his Dada's sneezing patterns)

and a little face, covered in a big white kleenax, peeked at me over the back of the couch.

[blowing his nose]

I throw garbage.

And he walked it to the kitchen garbage.

Pod people escaped with my real baby boy this morning as I walked, I just know it.

good morning, monday. . .

why did you hasten away our weekend, so fast?

My resolution this week is to blog every day. Really? Yep.
Get ready posts about our exciting week of washing clothes and vaccuuming Max's chewed sticks on the floor (or, light sabers that Jedi Max has chewed).

Today's highlights?

Walked this morning. Actually made it out of bed without tripping drunkenly around the dogs and yesterday's laundry. How is it that sleep. . .a full night's sleep. . .leaves you feeling so unawake in the morning?

Anyway. We rocked the walkin world this morning while everyone was still in their cozy beds. Usually we are almost run over by a dozen cars in the morning. Today? Only two. Less lights on in windows. No sweet laundry smell over by the haunted house.

Thanks so much Lisa for telling me about the real haunted house on our walk. Now I try not to look at it as we pass by so it really doesn't know that we know it's terrible little secret. So, the loud banging doesn't decide to meet us out on the street as we race past it's sinister, yet oh so lovely, french doors. . .

Yep, I walked through the darkness quite spooked this morning. I guess that it doesn't help that it's Halloween. . . And there are lots of houses decorated on our morning walk. . . Which is really cool. Love the whole Halloweeny thing. Except that one house (other than the real haunted one), which is decorated with body parts and zombies and skeletons and some sign up in the tree which I immediately quit reading when I saw the words eat and skin. Blaaahhhh. . . .

Anyway. Busy washing Sam's shirts for his trip tomorrow. Overnighter in New York and me and the boys are on our own, baby. Look out.

Also: laundry, laundry, and more laundry.

Lots of pics to upload. And my class to listen to.

Grocery game shopping. Walsmack and Giant Eagle. Maybe Target? And pondering a visit to the Star Houe (aka Toys R Us) for a preChristmas peek. October just begins that holiday joy in me. Once they start, these three months just race from one into the other. So exciting.

Anyway, did I mention I have laundry to do?

Ready, set. . . go, Monday!

a new day in legoland. . .

full of official storm troopers and a dark vadar (sometimes darf vadar. . .). . .

Dada, still humming with creativity, created a few more good guys:

Chewbaca (brought to you today by a severly chewed and therefore retired fuzzy monkey dog toy). . .

and Yoda (yet another creation brought to you today by Dada's old khaki pants). . .

Also, on the good guy ship we find Indy (aka Hans Solo, but not on this end of the galaxy), Princess Leia (who used to be the Indy bad guy girl), Obi Wan Kanobee (who used to be a SpaceMan sporting heavy five o'clock shadow), a deep sea diver, two boneses (who might look like bad guys, but are definitely good guys. . .one who is using the Indy whip, the other a crossbow. . .all kinds of weapons around here), and a knight with a race car helmet using a harpoon. . . Lots of hard-working, fighting the good fight good guys. . . who may be outnumbered by almost triple the amount of bad guys. . . but are not willing to give up. . .

Lots of shooting. . . light sabering. . . going on today. . .

Also in the middle of salvaging pieces to create the Millenium Falcon. . . Zeli-style, of course. . . using some online instructions and our own ingenuity. . .

Fun times.

an old pair of pants. . .

some duct tape. . .

a cereal box. . .

and some recycled white paper. . .

. . .30 cents. . .

The chance to be a real storm trooper: priceless. . .