Mom to Bee

In case you didn’t realize, last weekend was a really important date to children all around the nation.

Daylight Savings. Duh.

Oh, and Halloween, too.

Along with the obligatory ten pounds that I will gain from the twenty metric fuck-tons of Halloween candy we have left over (you’d think with this economy there would’ve been more kids out begging for free shit, right?) comes the obligatory Halloween photos.

In fact, I’m pretty sure that I would lose my virginity blogging license or something if I didn’t post photos of everybody all dressed up and ready to party.

And by “party” I mean “I can’t believe I made the entire family dress up in full costume to go around the neighborhood with Bee and only find like five houses that had their lights on. What the fuck, neighbors?! I did not hunt these stupid pirate costumes on eBay just to have Halloween humbugs keep your lights off and hide in your living rooms when we all know you are home, you goddamn cheapskates.”

Whew.

Now that I got that off my voluptuous I mean, average unless I’m being honest then under-developed chest, here are said photos of my deliciously adorable family:

While all dressed up and, if I’m going to be honest, feeling a bit like a retard being so dressed up and passing out candy to the neighborhood kids, I had a little epiphany.

We all know that Halloween is when your true self comes out. For most women, it’s when your inner (and outer) slut comes out. (FYI ladies: a holiday doesn’t made you any less of a whore.)

For example, I had a couldn’t-have-been-older-than-twelve-year-old come to my house wearing a version of this costume:

I shit you not, I found this costume online under “Tweens”.

Parents: your daughter should never, ever, EVER be allowed out of the house in this costume. Ever.

But that wasn’t my epiphany.

I realized that Halloween is when your true manners come out.

We had a lot of tweenage kids (mostly boys) visit our house last night and I couldn’t believe how ridiculously rude some of them were.

Yes, I expect that a few stupid kids won’t even put on a costume and still expect me to put candy in their garbage bags. Classy. But I last year I had a tons of kids that wouldn’t even say “Trick or Treat”!!

So this year, when a group of douchey tweenage boys came to the door and just stood there, I stood there too.

It was like the great Halloween Stand-off of ’09.

I’m getting pretty good at these stand-off things.

Eventually, after standing there staring at each other for a few moments, I had to say, “Uh, aren’t you supposed to say something to me?” FINALLY, one of the douchebags children are our future said “trick or treat”.

Can I tell you, one boy (in a different tweeny group) looked at the candy I had given him and then looked me square in the eye with a look of disappointment and entitlement and said, “Next time I’ll trick you.”

Really, kid? REALLY?!

I know a fuck more about the legal system and I’ll make sure your little ass is in community service until I’m handing out Halloween candy to your CHILDREN’S CHILDREN!!

Okay, I didn’t say that.

I actually just nervously giggled and said, “heh. heh. Happy Halloween?”

Later, I calmed myself down by watching a few scary movies on the good ol’ TiVo. There were quite a few options on television Halloween night…

I’m still having nightmares.

“The music is played for love, Cruisin’ is made for love. I love it when we’re cruisin’ together…”

Song title: More Manners Please by Markus Schultz

After yesterday’s post to you asking you to have my baby because I love you so much (and we’d make some really cute babies, ifIdosaysomyself), I received so many questionable lovely comments! I feel like I should send all of you a beautiful restraining order Valentine or something.

As a gift to you, I wanted to point out that semi-new button over there –> that says “Subscribe to Mom to Bee“. I want to thank those four people (I’m totally not being sarcastic, I have a whopping FOUR people – sweet! It’s up to five now!!) who have subscribed to receive Mom to Bee in their inbox every day! If you too cry yourself to sleep when you accidentally miss a life-altering and/or brain-cell killing post of mine, you can click that handy dandy button and sign up to get my feed directly to your door every morning.

And by “door” I mean “computer”.

And by “every day” I mean “whenever I feel like posting or have a fascinating poo story to share with you.”

Speaking of fascinating posts (kidding. It’s not really fascinating), last night before Bee went down for the night the doorbell rang.

Now, some people might make fun, but Mr. Bee and I are of the opinion that the doors and windows should always be locked because if not surely mass murderers, scary demons and/or the boogeyman will kill us violently with dull spoons. And we also hate answering the door in fear of murderers or worse (religious zealots ::shudder::) may attack.

So when the doorbell rang after dark, it could only mean one thing…

Halloween Care Package Gremlins!

I was tagged by a neighbor and given a cute little Halloween care package! The only drawback is now I have to pay it forward within the next 24 hours.

So adding in a wine play date I have this afternoon (yes, it’s a play date with wine, pretty much the most awesome mommy get-together EVAR), tv night with the girls tonight, and having to watch Bee solo this evening, I don’t know how I’m going to get around to paying it forward this evening without just dipping in to our own Halloween candy stash that we bought at Costco last week.

I’m guessing it might be against “the rules” to re-gift an anonymous Halloween treat in order to pay it forward? And yeah, the likelihood that those rice krispy treats and peanut butter cup pumpkins are going to last through Bee’s nap this afternoon are slim. So really I’d just be re-gifting an empty Halloween paper plate.

Could I just write a note that I choose Trick instead of Treat this year?

Song title: Everyday Is Halloween by Ministry

A few weeks ago, while ignoring parental responsibilities socializing at a playdate, I realized that a bunch of moms were already discussing the costumes they had purchased for Halloween.

What the fuck, people! It’s not even October yet?!

But apparently, I am way behind in my costume hunting, so I immediately began perusing the Interwebs for a costume that could possibly out-cute Bee as a chicken or a goldfish.

Both of Bee’s previous costumes were purchased from BabyStyle, but the company has since gone out of business undergone a reorganization. What does that mean? That means no super frickin’ cute Halloween costumes that, despite only costing like $25, are really well-made.

So, obviously, I had to go searching on Ebay. Luckily for me, I found this:

But pink, because Bee doesn’t have a penis. Obviously.

I went ahead and bid on a costume and promptly forgot about it completely and ended up checking Ebay only when I got the “You didn’t win your item, loser” email.

Realizing that I bet get a move on, I went ahead and bid on another octopus costume (same costume, different seller). I swore I wouldn’t forget about it this time.

And then I forgot.

But I remembered! Just in time to watch the last 20 minutes count down off the auction clock.

20 minutes left: Item is still yours!

10 minutes left: Oh yeah, Item is still yours!!

5 minutes left: Item is all yours, baby. No need to worry.

20 seconds left: I have this shit in the bag. Back to watching tv or whatever the hell I was doing before I remembered about the Ebay auction.

And then, ladies and gentleman, I was sniped.

With 20 seconds left, some shit-tastic douchebag asshat bid higher than me and stole my poor innocent baby’s costume out from under her.

What. The. Fuck.

Fast forward to last week. Another costume up for auction and Mama ain’t letting this one go without a fight. I was determined to win the costume even if it meant selling Bee in the process.

Which would have been stupid because then I’d have to go out and find a new kid to wear the costume and that would have been totally inconvenient.

I bid a stupid amount for the costume, only to be asked by Mr. Bee approximately 8 bazillion times how much the costume would cost new.

“The company is out of business. There is no new! It’s priceless. Like a fucking Picasso! What don’t you understand!!”

When it was game time (i.e. under one minute until the auction’s end), I was clicking that god damn Refresh button as many times as my fingers could punch the laptop button until they were only bloody little stumps.

30 seconds…

20 seconds… (Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, I swear to God, I will hunt you down and punch you in the throat.)

11 seconds… YOU HAVE BEEN OUTBID!!!

WHAT?!?!?!

My fingers flew over the keyboard, raising my bid in the nick of time…

I think it was worth it.

Song title: Sniper by Harry Chapin

Picture an “S” where my toe should be
So…when I posted last week about my “broken toe,” I can admit that I was being a bit dramatic. Sure, my toe hurt like a sonofabitch when I slammed it in to the ottoman the ottoman attacked me unprovoked, but it was just a bad bruise, right? Well come Friday, my toe was looking retardedly crooked. Of course I break out the first aid kit and decide it is splinting time!

Yeah, that was a bad idea. Even though I just lightly splinted the toe with tape and a tongue depressor, it hurt sooooo bad that I had to take it off like five minutes later. It’s then that I decided to visit an actual doctor (apparently five seasons of Grey’s Anatomy under my belt hasn’t really taught me too much about the actual practice of medicine.)

Bright and early Saturday morning I head in to the local medical clinic to find out my toe actually IS broken. In TWO places. It should heal up within 3 weeks or so and all I can do in the meantime is tape my toes together and hobble like a gimp. Super fun!

Happy Zoo-tacular
Sissy and Family came to the Woodland Park Zoo Pumpkin Prowl with us last night and we had a ton of fun!

Song title: The Broken Bones by Mxpx