It was just before Christmas.  We were traveling home from Augusta where we’d met good friends for dinner.  We were seeing snow fall for the first time since before we’d left for Korea.

The argument between the kids started over a game on the ipad.  Something about gathering gems, racing to a castle, somersaulting around the candy store and destroying the Tooth Fairy.  The details are vague.

First — Garrett.  He’s very I’m 13 and also a little bit John Wayne lately.  He claimed he got to play some asinine game twice because it took him half as long to get through one game…(say wha-?)

Luke, much more I have no power here so I will whine in the most ingratiating way humanly possible retorted Gaaarrett doooonnnn’ttt! That’s not faaaiiirrrr!  

And there was Natalie, who never seemed to notice they skipped her turn half the time, was seemingly thinking the boys are gonna argue, so I’m just going to sit here in my booster seat and sing to myself LOUDER NOW ‘oh, give me the ipad, give it to meeeeee…’

…when one of us big people in charge, I don’t remember if it was me or Guy, snapped “give. me. the. ipad.  NOW.”  And it was handed up through little hands and breaking hearts.  At least that’s what I thought I heard.  It could have been the sound of me grinding my teeth.

The silence made Guy and me smirk at each other out of the corner of our eyes.  We’d surprised even ourselves with lowering the gauntlet over something so silly.  No warnings.  Just – no.

You have to understand, silence is not common in our lives.  We were all kind of stunned.  I think the kids were more than just a little dazed, and maybe seething at each other a bit.  We all focused on the road in front of us as snow fell.

Then, Natalie, having immediately forgotten that we’d just admonished them for bickering, started humming “Frosty the Snowman” absentmindedly.  Soon, Luke joined in with a word here and there, softly, still looking out the window and away from his siblings.  Garrett joined in (with harmony, no less) soon after, and before we’d gone another mile, the five of us were singing at the top of our lungs and half laughing like crazy kookaburras.

Without words, someone started another holiday song, and though we didn’t know all the words to even one of them, we sang, all together that way, until we made it home safe and sound.

I had forgotten about this night until two days ago, when Natalie, completing an assignment for school, said to me “my favorite day was singing in the car in the snow!”

And I realized the ipad hadn’t made its way back inside the car in the past 3 months.

I love pumpkins.  I’m even kind of crazy about the word pumpkin. It’s all bulbous and bursting, kind of perfect in its imperfection.

Pumpkins arrive in my favorite season, which doesn’t hurt – traveling in like a chubby, beloved family member who’s been off adventurizing the world (yes, that should totally be a word,) one who wants to just chill for a bit, maybe have a beer, sitting right there on the front stoop, checking the comings and goings of the 4,000 cats in the neighborhood.  And if you don’t mind cutting me up, maybe giving me some eyes or something, and sticking a candle inside me to show the glow, I’d kind of dig that, woman who seems to own this house.

Every fall here on Cedar Street, our friends, The Crabiels, host a pumpkin carving party, with pumpkins large and pumpkins small, one pumpkin per child (and one for Chip – our resident overgrown child), lots of carving utensils, all sorts of neighborhoodie shareable yummy dishes and a whole lot of laughter and fun.  This year there was an award for Most Wizard of Oz Pumpkin!  That was my favorite.

Hello, Tin Man.

Also, we had a “Grown Up Harry Potter” Award, one for “Prettiest,” one for “Most Creative,” “Best All Around” (because there were 4 faces all around that pumpkin) and “Biggest Headache” due to the carving tool stuck in the poor pie head.  I was partial to the “Picasso Pumpkin” and also “Most Mythological”.

Hey Scarface, light my cigar, will ya?  I’m so pretty, yes, I’m pretty!  Shut up and show me the money!

It is no small thing that kids – ranging in age from 3-13 – were solely responsible for the artistic awesomeness that was Pumpkin Carving 2012.  Every carver wins a (hastily found in the messy places in our houses) prize and the Pumpkin Master wins him/herself a darn tootin’ hat to boot!  Doesn’t matter what the prizes are – they just want to hear the silliness they’ve won their prize for.  “Best Effort.” “Most Puzzled.”  “Happiest.”  “Best Unibrow…” you know, those kinds of things.

Judge Me!

It’s just one of those events in our ‘hood that we look forward to every year. It’s amazing that this year, it was a last-minute thing, and almost every family came, in tact.

There were some kids missing this year, ones who have slipped up and away to high school.  As it happens to happen.  Soon Garrett will be in that group.  But this year he happily took part in the festivities, which made us happy.

Even if he is 5 inches taller than me now.

Though I specifically told him not to, Luke went ahead and turned 11 today.

This kid is killing me with this growing up nonsense.  The snuggliest, quietest, sleepiest, contentedest (that should totally be a word) baby on the planet has become the most thoughtful, caring, sweet, engaging little boy.  Who maybe isn’t so little anymore, but who still fits so nicely right up under my chin when I hug the bejeesus out of him.  Which I try to do on a daily basis, because damned if his feet aren’t bigger than mine already and frigged if his voice isn’t taking on the slightest of lower tonation.  When THAT happened I’m completely unaware.  I woke up one day and there was that raspy voice of his, only deeper.  If you think I’m not paying attention, buddha in the sky, well, I AM.

Let him stay little, won’t you?

11 years of sparkle.