Uses for Clove Oil

For anyone who has suffered with a child who refuses to stay in bed at night or naps, this is going to sound crazy, but until two nights ago Ada had NEVER gotten out of bed on her own. She has let us know when she wants to get up, mostly by yelling out or kicking the wall, but until this week she never, ever got up out of bed without Chris or me coming in to her room first. Even when she went diaper-free last year and she was regularly wetting the bed in the morning, she would just lie there until we came to get here. I don't think this was so much a sign of her compliance as it has been a weird way for her to control us.

I mention this, of course, because two nights ago Ada came into our room in the middle of the night. She'd had a nightmare, and as we'd never considered what to do when our eldest appeared at our bedside, we brought her into bed with us. It wasn't perfect, but we all slept reasonably well for the next few hours. The next night, Ada woke up at 2:30 with a wet bed. Chris got up to help her, but then she refused to go back to bed. I woke up to them arguing, and by the time I collected myself enough to engage, Chris had brought her into our room saying that she could sleep with me and he would sleep in her bed. Not perfect, but Chris decided that: (a) he wasn't going to convince Ada to sleep in her bed; (b) he needed to do something so that he could get back to sleep; and (c) three in our bed was not a great solution two nights in a row.

In the morning Chris and I agreed that we needed to talk to Ada about the fact that she would not be sleeping with us again, and the talk needed to happen before bedtime (when such a chat would be clouded by fatigue on her part and a desire to get her to sleep on ours). We talked to Ada about the bed situation during dinner, without a lot of receptivity on her part. At bedtime we got through the bath and books, and then Ada declared she was not going to sleep. I declared that she would be. She said she could not, as when she went to bed there were monsters in her bed. After first trying the "there are no monsters in your bed" gambit, I decided to follow a different course. I asked her if she wanted some anti-monster spray that we could shpritz around her room. I held my breath, waiting for her to call bullshit on the idea of monster repellant. Amazingly, she agreed to get some spray.

Clove Oil: Hated By Monsters, Loved By Hippies

We headed downstairs, where I grabbed some clove oil and searched briefly for our spray bottle. When I could not find the bottle, I grabbed a clean cloth diaper and we headed back upstairs. I put some oil on the cloth and started to wipe the side of her bedframe.

"No, the monsters don't come on the bed there."

"Where do they come on?"

"They are just on the bed."

I wiped the sheets, pillow and comforter with the clove-doused cloth. Then, with Ada's approval, I rubbed the cloth on the head and foot boards. Ada thought we should also wipe my bed, saying "when I was in your bed I saw a monster there too." I wiped my comforter, pillow and sheets, focusing on the top of the bed where Ada said she'd seen the monster.

We returned to her room, where I told her she should take the cloth. That way, if she saw a monster she could put the cloth on her chest to keep the monster away. Ada asked "why don't monsters like this?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe it smells too strong for them. I kind of like it, though."

"Me too."

And then Ada got into her bed, I told her a woodchuck story, and left her with my usual "I love you" and other soothing words. Now I am crossing my fingers. I hope that the smell of the clove oil helps, that it is strong enough to make her feel it is working. I love my little girl and I hate for her to be scared. And yes, I hate to wake up at 2:30 on a night the babies actually sleep through.

I wrote this on Friday night. Ada slept through the night and was not eaten by monsters. Now it is Saturday night, and Chris and I have been talking to, arguing with and practically wrestling Ada. She says she needs us to sleep. She is refusing to go to bed, and wants to sleep in our bed. She says that the monsters will eat her. (I tried the logic of "if the monsters had eaten you last night, you wouldn't be here now." This worked not at all.) I finally left the room, figuring that my presence was making things worse. After a full 40 minutes of arguments with Ada, Chris finally told her he was done and walked out.


What do you do when a child refuses to go to sleep? What should we do?

Counting My Blessings

I am so lucky. This week seemed like a good time to be thankful for some of the people who have made me feel that way.

Abby, who I met in prenatal yoga, not once but twice came over to help us out on days she was child-free and could have been sipping coffee and reading a book.

Dina, who volunteered to spend a couple of hours with Ada so that Chris and I could go out to dinner.

My mother, who this summer spent 10 days helping with baby-wrangling, in those last few days of the "4th trimester" when the babies needed a lot of attention but didn't reward us with a lot of sleep.

Traci, who loaned us a crib so that the babies could stop kick-boxing in their sleep. Looking at them now I can hardy imagine how we kept them in one bed so long.

Ellen, who cooked us pork and polenta and baked apples. And who always gives us food she'd "made too much of."

Elizabeth, who has taken Ada on adventures and playdates with her son, giving us a few hours of respite.

Karen, who does not mind that I call for 10 minute chats.

Chris, who out of nowhere says, you know, if one of these nights you want to go out to dinner with friends or to a movie or something, you should do that.

Neighbors who routinely have Ada over for dinner, where she eats more than she does at home. (Viva Taco Night!)

My boss, for letting me have this past six months at home with Ian and Mira.

My in-laws, for coming to see us regularly even as I balk at packing everyone (and everything) up for the trip down to their house.

Classy

I recently got this:

Class of '59?

Yesterday I got the follow up email. Still not going. 

Random Quote and Unrelated Photo of the Week

Government's supposed to serve from the bottom up and not move towards this top-down, big-government takeover, but rather will be protectors of individual rights, who also have enough common sense to acknowledge when conditions have drastically changed, and they're willing to call an audible and pass the ball when it's time so the team can win.


Sarah Palin, on political change

Halfway to Where?

I can not believe it has been six months already. This month I have been marveling that my level of frustration is so much less than it was with Ada at this age. At six months I was still crying a lot. Ada was just emerging from her colicky infancy into what thankfully turned out to be a happy, charming babyhood. Ian and Mira have been happy and mostly adorable for a while already. I know I say some version of this every month, but it is just so amazing to me.

Can you tell which child is working on week 2 of a stuffed up nose?

For comparison, this was Ada at 6 months

I also see the passage of time as a bit of a trick. Like many parents of babies under one, I think in terms of surviving that first year. At six months with Ian and Mira, I've gotten through half of that, but it isn't as if there is an "end" in six months. The next six months, and all the months and years after that, will bring change and growth for all three kids. As certainly as we are on a road with our children, it is surely not a road to somewhere. The journey is the destination, and all that.

Meet my children: Bewildered, Pouty and Distracted
NB: Mira is not half Ian's size. She's being pushed down.

S'not No(se) Big Thing
Right now our journey is on a road paved with snot. (Wait, can snot pave something? Maybe I should just say that we are on a snot-slicked road. No, too evocative.)

The past few weeks have been illness-heavy. Chris, Ada and I got the H1N1 vaccine, and quickly got sick. Other than a fever, I had pretty much all the symptoms the CDC lists for the flu, while Ada, Mira and Ian all had fevers but not much else. That said, I am not sure what we had wasn't just a cold, and in any case the bad part passed fairly quickly. (And thank goodness for that - the five days Ada was at home with us without the distraction of play dates was fairly hard on all of us.) Mira seems to have inherited my tendency to end colds with a lingering runny nose, and she is not happy about it. Unlike Ian, she loves sleeping with a pacifier, which is hard to do when you can't breathe out of your nose. Needless to say, Chris and I have been up a lot at night to soothe her. And then just as Mira and Ian appeared to be leaving one cold behind, another one is starting up. I can tell because a new cold brings with it a day or two of heavy napping, which would be a blessing if it wasn't tied to crankiness, a reduction in good night-sleeping and the inevitable drippy yet plugged nose. Mira slept for 3.5 hours on Thursday. This was after an hour nap and a mere hour up between naps. Wow.

Even when she's stuffy, who could resist this face?

Physically, Ian and Mira are still not showing a lot of interest in movement. Ian scootches around in circles, and Mira will pivot while on her belly when she's motivated by a toy, but neither consistently flips over much. Except in their cribs, where Ian occasionally and Mira consistently flips over. While Ian is a little ahead of Mira in sitting, neither can really sit up for more than a couple of seconds. Based on my perusal of photographs from her six month mark, Ada was sitting up alone by this point. What is weird is I remember wanting Ada to meet each milestone and doing a lot to "help" her along toward those stages. With Mira and Ian, I am not at all worried about them getting new skills on any timeline. I know they'll get there at some point, and I have a lot less energy for trying to make it happen. (Plus, as I have mentioned before, WHY would I want to encourage things like crawling? It is going to be a lot of work for the rest of us when Ian and Mira decide to get mobile.)

Mira, for her part, has won the "first tooth" contest. I'm glad it Ian is still toothless, as he's been nipping at me while nursing. So far I've just used it as a signal that I am out of milk, and taken him off the breast when it happens. Once he gets a tooth or three this will be a lot more painful, so I'm hoping he doesn't get any soon.

Ian, looking very High Fidelity

I am going back to work in about a week, and the babies will be spending my work days with a nanny. We found someone with a good about of twin and infant experience, and I have high hopes. Hopefully she won't be too horrified by our messy lives and home.

An Unexpected Change

This past weekend Ada and Lila were playing upstairs. Chris and I heard a crashing noise. Chris went up to investigate. As he climbed the stairs he heard Ada say, "Get the grownups!" He found Ada barely holding up her dresser, which was close to completely crashing down on her. (The girls had opened all the drawers at once, so it toppled.) Chris helped Ada to right the dresser, and out of nowhere she told him that she'd peed and pooped in the potty. Chris gave her a high five and then asked about the dresser situation.

Chris related the story to me, and said that SOMEONE had clearly pooped in the potty, he could smell it. (It would be consistent with Ada not to flush. Then again, Lila doesn't always remember either. And I know Lila uses the potty, as it happens routinely at our house. What is it about preschoolers that they like to poop with other people around? I pretty much never go to my friends' houses in order to poop.)

When I went upstairs to put Mira to bed, and Ada told me she'd peed and pooped in the potty. I said "that's great!" and then moved on, figuring from past experience that where Ada is concerned it is not a good idea to over-do on the potty praise. A bit later Ada, Lila and I were drawing at the dining room table. Ada said "I peed and pooped in the potty." I said, "I know!" "how did you know?" "Well, Papa told me, and you told me." We talked about who told whom, tra la la, all very calmly.

Even later, Ada asked to see Chris' ipod, which he'd recently told her she could not play with anymore, until she was a big girl (as evidenced by her peeing and pooping in the potty). He let her play with it.

So what is going on here? How did my non-toilet user turn overnight into a no-problem-I'm-using-it kid? And who STARTS using the potty by pooping in it? Has Ada really turned the corner? I am not proud to admit it, but my first thought was that she is not telling the truth. However, it is not really Ada's M.O. to lie about this (or more specifically, to plot with Lila to pretend that Lila's poop is her own). It goes against the grain of Ada's potty obstinacy, which usually leads her to flatly declare that she is not going to use the potty ("ever", sometimes). And Lila has been talking to her about the potty more of late. (A couple of days before this first toileting, within Ada's earshot, Lila told me that Ada was going to pee and poop in the potty.) So there you go. As shocked as I was, I was forced to admit that we may have had a breakthrough, which may or may not be motivated by Ada's desire to play games on the ipod.

Since this all went down on Sunday, Ada has started to consistently and nonchalantly use the toilet for both urine and bowel movements. On Wednesday morning she declared that she wanted to pee before we left for school, and as I was in the bathroom at the time, she kept up her chatter while doing her business. I had to restrain myself from staring in shock at how nonchalant, how normal Ada was acting about this. She was so comfortable using the toilet that she was talking to me about something completely unrelated, as if she'd been using the toilet like this for years. No biggie, apparently.

Chris and I have been speculating about what caused this change. Besides the ipod, we have a couple of ideas. One is best summed up by a line from a book we recently borrowed from the library: "the princess will use the potty when it pleases the princess." I don't necessarily think that reading this book with Ada caused a change (though she did enjoy the book). But the sentiment, that a kid will use the toilet when (and only when) she wants to, really resonates with our situation. We have endured years of attempts to motivate her potty use, only to find that she'd rather give up all manner of things than get them as rewards for something she was not ready to do.

Then there's the impact of increasing peer pressure. In the past Ada has not really cared that other people know she uses a pull-up. More recently, she has interacted with a new kid who asked about her diaper, and some of her potty-using friends have encouraged her to do so. She seems to care a bit more what other kids think.

And speaking of other kids, we are now on the hook for a big girl party. A couple of months ago Ada went through a several week phase of asking about when she'd be 5. At the time we took the opportunity to offer a half-birthday party. We billed it as something she could do when she was a big girl who peed and pooped in the potty; we would have a party with her friends at which they could watch a movie and eat popcorn and cupcakes. This week Ada asked us about the party. (Another reminder that this kid forgets NOTHING.) So we'll be having a movie, popcorn and cupcake party with Ada and a few of her friends very soon. She's certainly earned it. (speaking of which, for putting up with all this, don't you think I've earned a big girl party with drinks and sushi and my friends?)

So where are we now? Well, at home Ada is peeing and pooping in the potty, with no tricks or bribes, when she feels the need to go. She is comfortable enough with it that if I am around she is happy to have me there, but when I am busy she'll go on her own. She has so far slept without a pull up and stayed dry. (No real shock there, we knew this wasn't a physical issue.) We are working with the teachers at her school to achieve toilet use there as well. (The head teacher is incredibly kind and patient, and I think this made a big impact on Ada's willingness to make a change.) The trick is getting her to feel the same comfort away from home that she feels here. I think that will come, and for now we will continue to use the same hands-off support that we have been using with her. We are not there yet, and I am sure there will be setbacks, but I for one feel a weight has been lifted from my shoulders with such progress on this issue. I also feel really proud of Ada for figuring this one out in her own way. It might not have been my way or on my time line, but she figured it out for herself. 

And now a message from the wonk portion of my brain

Over the past few months I have mostly had my fingers in my ears when health reform talk was in the air. This has been hard to do, as health insurance reform has been topic #1 for much of the past six months. It has been in the news for good reason. What other time in my lifetime has there actually been so much change actually likely to happen? Never. So, not a good time for me to be singing "la la la la" instead of listening to the news on this. Also, I am a health policy wonk, professionally, so I have a vested interest in health reform news. But for almost six months I've been a policy wonk on leave, so I have not really paid the attention I would have if I had been working the past six months.

(now that I know my mother reads the blog, I am a little embarrassed to admit this in front of her, policy/research wonk that she is. Oh well. It is still true.)

Even in my news gray zone, certain pieces of the reform process have gotten my attention. I can't help pay attention to news about a potential public plan, after all the discussions we have had here in Oregon on that topic. The idea of a health insurance exchange is also key for me. It looks like I will be doing some work on that when I return to my job in a couple of weeks. And the past week or two, I have been listening to the news about the Stupak Amendment, which would not allow insurers to offer abortion as a covered benefit in the insurance offered to people who access federal financial premium assistance.

This is a sneaky way to limit access to abortion, and not just for low and middle income Americans. Of course, it does limit access to abortion for people who will get federal subsidies for their insurance purchase (by refusing to allow it to be a covered service). But it actually goes further. As people who get help paying for insurance premiums will have to buy through a health insurance exchange, it effectively eliminates abortion as a covered service from any insurance purchased through exchanges, whether or not the purchaser uses a subsidy. Exchanges will be open to people buying coverage on their own, with no financial help from the government. But no insurance company is going to offer one package for people getting subsidies, and another almost-but-not-quite-identical-except-with-abortion-coverage to people paying on their own. Since insurers will have to exclude abortion for some, they aren't going to include abortion in an otherwise identical insurance package for others. It just doesn't make financial sense for the insurance companies.

Proponents of this amendment say that people could always buy a separate insurance rider for abortion. But who is going to do that? How many women think "gee, I'd better plan for the possibility of a catastrophic pregnancy that needs to be terminated at 22 weeks in order to avoid threatening my health or life!"? No one thinks that, and pretty much no one is going to buy this kind of special coverage. (Plus, people who - due to past health issues - know it is likely that they'd need this are going to be high risk, making premiums for such insurance costly, and further dissuading others from buying it.) This rule would shut down abortion coverage for a big chunk of Americans. Given that most Americans who purchase insurance in the individual market have abortion as a covered service, this will be a big change.

Yes, I am annoyed.

I expressed my annoyance by signing a petition sponsored by California Senator Barbara Boxer. Despite what the conservatives say, Boxer is a moderate, not a crazy flaming liberal (not that there is anything wrong with flaming liberals. I and some of my best friends are crazy liberals).

My fellow countrymen and women can sign a petition against the Stupak Amendment here. You can also write or call your legislators to let them know what you think about this. (Click these links for contact info for your senators and representatives.)

Maybe I am ready to go back to work after all.

When Tortillas Go Bad

or, Taco Night takes a wrong turn

I'm not usually crazy about the kids playing with their food, but the other night Lila joined us for dinner (shredded pork soft tacos). After the girls ate they started to get creative with the tortillas.

Lila

Ada

Oh What a Wookie

I heard Chris play a weird song on his computer, so asked how he'd gotten there. He said:


I was reading the Blazers' blog.

Then I decided to go to the Bobcats' blog, to see what they thought of the game.

The pre-game post has a quote from Clerks.

Watching the clip I heard this song in the background, so then I went to find the song.



And to think that some people think the internet is a wasteland.

Random Quote and Unrelated Photo of the Week

"It's hard enough to get kids to concentrate on an algorithm -- even without Jimmy sitting there in lipstick and fake eyelashes," said Kay Hymowitz

Jan Hoffman
Can a Boy Wear a Skirt to School?

Even the common cold can knock you out

Ada, Chris and I all got the H1N1 vaccine last Friday. On Saturday Ada played with a kid who subsequently came down with something (maybe the flu). I checked, and it takes a couple of weeks for the vaccine to protect you after you take it. On Tuesday Ada was running a low fever but was otherwise fine. I am coughing and phlegmy. Neither of us seems to really fit the flu symptoms enough for us to worry.

We are tired, however.

Yup, that's me, asleep with a not-quite empty tea mug in my lap. Ada and I slept upright, using one another as pillows. It felt great.

The first day of winter

I know that "real" winter is still about six weeks away, but for me winter started last Thursday. That was the evening I looked out the window and saw the red light. The light is a stoplight a few blocks from our house. It is weird that we can see this stoplight at all, but from the top of the stairs things line up just right so that the houses between us and the light do not block the view. All summer and well into the fall the trees make the light invisible. Once enough trees have lost their leaves, the light is again visible. 

Before Ada was born, I did not notice the light much, and when I did, I didn't place much importance on the sightings. But then Ada came along, and I learned all about the magical thinking that comes along with parenting an infant. You know, "I will  hold my baby for the count of 100, then slowly, slooowwwly get up and she'll stay asleep as I put her back in her bed." Total insanity if taken too seriously, but necessary in those early, sleepless months.

During Ada's first winter I spent countless hours nursing her while sitting in a rocking chair in her room. From this position, at night I could look through the gap in the curtains to the distant stoplight. Rocking and nursing, I attached special significance to the color the light showed. Red was the norm, as the light presides over a side street that runs into a bigger road. Red was okay, but it offered no special protection. Looking up to see a light green was good. It meant that I would have a relatively easy time putting Ada back to bed. Even better was a yellow light; it was a sign Ada would definitely fall back asleep with no problem. (oh, if only!)

After a while, I could not keep myself from staring out the window with the hopes of seeing a green or yellow light. Realizing that whatever magic I'd ascribed to those colors could not be counted on if I watched the light (instead of taking an occasional glimpse), I started using the light as a magical timer. I remember thinking "If I rock Ada for three more cycles of the light, then sit still for another three, I can then safely get up and put her back in bed without her waking up."

After that first winter, I did not need the light the way I had before. Ada had become a good sleeper and there were few 2 am rocking chair sessions. But I still looked to the light for signs. Now that I no longer sat in Ada's room looking out the window, I mostly saw the light as I walked up the stairs. If I saw a red light, bedtime was not necessarily going to be rocky, but I still hoped for the green or yellow that would portend good luck.

And now I am back in the days of night-waking and magical thinking. Ian and Mira's room does not face the light and in any case I kind of forgot about it over the summer. Now that the leaves are falling, I am happy to report that the twins get up a bit less than Ada used to. Chris and I still wake to feed them in the hours that most sane people are in bed, but except when bothered by a cold or a phantom or a neighbor's incredibly loud muffler, they sleep well for fairly long stretches. Seeing the light the other night reminded me of how hard it had been with Ada. I recalled that at this point with Ada I was still crying a lot. I can not really express how much the color of the light meant to me, even as I knew that it was just a stoplight, and not a parenting sign meant only for me.

I cry a lot less with Ian and Mira. Even with two, I find the experience of parenting newborns less stressful the second time around. A green light still buoys me a bit in the evening, but these days I don't need the reassurance of an inanimate object the way I used to. Now the light tells me that winter is coming, and with it my twins are getting older and more capable. Soon we will face new challenges, as they learn to roll, and crawl and (heaven help us) stand and walk. I look forward to these challenges, and to the joys of winter. 

Her Favorite Game

Mira has developed a little quirk. Whenever a towel, diaper, blanket, sheet or other flat, soft item is within her reach, she grabs it and does this:

When I pull it off, she looks amused. So then we do a little peekaboo, which she finds highly entertaining. I suppose I should not encourage this behavior, but she has so few entertainments at this point, I hate to take one away. (She does seem able, though not very inclined, to take the diaper or other item off her face. I figured this out when I let her sit like this for a little to see if she'd take it off or panic. It took a while before she peeked out, but eventually she did come out of hiding.)

The Odd Couple

I saw two books on the floor in the playroom and asked Chris about them. He replied that Lila and Ada each wanted a book. "This is what they picked."

Since neither Ada nor Lila can really read, I am sure Lila was attracted to the Heimel book by the heels. Both girls are really into heels right now. Did Ada choose the Gogol because she has a thing for Russian writers or for herringbone?

The perfect stroller I can't afford

You know how sometimes you go wandering blog to blog, looking for something or someone entertaining or interesting? I did that this week, and wandered over to a mother of twins in Canada. She is giving away a beautiful, lovely, heart-stoppingly expensive stroller, a Bumbleride Indie Twin.

Let's face it, even when I am not in the middle of a 6 month leave from work, an almost $700 stroller is not in the cards for me. But if I could win it? That would be nice. So in a vain attempt to win this stroller, I am blogging about it. This is a little embarrassing to me, but it is a measure of how much I would like to win this. So there, we've found my price, huh? Did I mention it comes in orange? Sigh.

Embarrassment aside, here is a link to the giveaway.

Random Quote and Unrelated Photo of the Week

"Let's just put it this way, he says. "There is a very large demand for eyelash enhancement."

John Mack, Pharma Marketing News

Thank Goodness it Wasn't Raining

The wood delivery truck arrived

and to Ada's delight, dumped a cord of wood in our driveway.

She was more excited to help than seems reasonable

Ian and our pal Juniper didn't actually help move the wood out of the driveway, but she is so beautiful I had to include this shot (and she did do a lot of dinner prep that night)

Untweeted

I have a twitter account. I don't use it much, because I don't have a desk job or an iPhone. (Okay, I HAVE a desk job, but I won't be at it for another month.)  But the other day I thought, "things must be getting better. I cleaned a toilet for the first time in 7 months." Then I thought, I would tweet that, if I wasn't cleaning the bathroom. Some of the other things that I would have tweeted recently if I had been near the computer when the thoughts occurred to me:

Who set the rule that at least one of the 5 of us must be crying at all times?

care.com is better than craigslist for finding a nanny. but is it $30 better?

Am I the only one who gets a name or phrase stuck in her head for a day, only to have it replaced by some other word the next?

Ian thinks it is hilarious when I mock his crabby cries. Good to know.

Who keeps googling "scroti rhode island" and finding me? What is that about?*

I told Chris we should keep the temp cooler in the evenings, but now I'm cold.

Whenever I read a post about some newly potty-trained kid my stomach does a sad flip-flop.

Keeping the leftover Halloween candy in the freezer is no impediment to me eating it all. 

Is it terrible that I want to hire someone because they said two kids were "as different as chalk and cheese"?

Ada and I have been talking about trees a lot lately. 

Writing this post is making me wonder "so why didn't I just post these to twitter?"


*I figured it out. Rhode Island School of Design's mascot. 

Halloween is for Suckers (and Peanut Butter Cups)

Despite my concern that people would mistake her home-made ghost costume for a bride costume, no one asked her if she was getting married. (Maybe it was the blue felt letters spelling BOO! I sewed to her skirt.)

Onward, to CANDY!

Predictably, by the end of the night Ada had shed her costume. She did it bit by bit, handing pieces to her grandmother and me as we walked the neighborhood in search of sugar. Yet another reason I am glad I didn't make her a traditional, one piece, over the head ghost costume. In any case, by the time we headed home she looked like this:

Note the sugar-fueled twirling around every pole on the street. Whee! Impressively, there was no sugar-meltdown. Ada enjoyed the special treat of getting tucked in to be by her grandmother, and we heard not a peep of complaint as the sugar left her system. Even better, at about 7:30 I got a text from Ellen noting that things were well with my other favorite sugar fiend: "Monkey Boy has not vomited yet." So all around, a successful Halloween.

Oh, and Mira and Ian's first Halloween passed as I would have predicted: they enjoyed being carted around to the neighborhood pre-trek party, got cranky, drank some milk and went to sleep. Who could ask for more?

Heavy, for skeletons