Nan and I made cookies a little while ago. Sugar cookies. Cut-out sugar cookies. Apparently I am overly ambitious in addition to being a glutton for punishment. At least I have cookies to eat while I weep with frustration. She was angry because she was too small to properly control the rolling pin, so I tried to locate her little rolling pin from her kitchen-- alas, it remains MIA. She was frustrated that the cut-outs weren't instantly baked cookies. She became LIVID when the dough would tear. But, she made me laugh with her interpretations of the shapes we cut with the cookie cutters. The gingerbread man was a flower, the mitten was a heart, and the stocking was a shoe. Hee. I shall let her live.

Blergh. It's been a long, long week, as Jay has been away from home 'til almost 10pm every day. He promised to be home for dinner tonight, so Nan and I prepared a fantastic steak dinner, w/ Pioneer Woman's Crash Hot Potatoes. Yummm. We planned for a 6:30 dinner, so when he called at 6:50 and announced he was on his way home, I was less than excited. He eventually got here, and we had a nice meal. Nan was so happy to see her dad. And I was happy the child finally got a bath. Sandbox day at school didn't help on the filthy kid front. Next week, baths will be even spottier, unless we drag ourselves to Grandma's every other day or so. But, the musical is next weekend, and I'll have my husband back in the evenings. The weekends are still lost, but at least the girl will be clean.
Nan spent much of the afternoon wearing a tutu, ballet slippers, and her Indian headdress that she made at school today. Quite the picture. When she added her WordGirl cape to the mix, it really completed the ensemble. I have been raiding clearance Halloween costumes to give to her for Christmas, to enhance her dress-up box. Thus far, I have scored miniature doctor's scrubs, a Supergirl outfit, a geisha outfit (!), and a cowboy outfit (complete with a duster jacket). Each of those averaged around $5. Woo! I plan to ask my MIL to further enhance the dress-up trunk for Christmas-- she's an amazing seamstress, and I think she'd have fun making costumes for my girl. Plus, costumes are easy to haul back on the airplane. Unlike the life-sized Elmo and Winnie-the-Pooh dolls we got for Nan's first Christmas. (Seriously. The Elmo is enormous. It's STILL taller than she is.)
Oh-- bathtime is over. Time to go read stories. The best time of the day-- snuggling with my clean, sleepy girl.

Sooo... big things have happened. I am no longer employed. Last Thursday morning, I went to get my hair cut and highlighted, and Thursday afternoon, they called to tell me I was being laid off effective 10/31. I don't think there's any correlation between the two events. Anyway. I have new hair, and no job. Good news is I have three and a half months of severance pay to figure out what I want to be when I grow up. But! Trick-or-treating was a stupendous success, resulting in an amazing chocolate stash, as my daughter ate one bag of M&M's on Halloween night and promptly forgot the candy existed. Score! And the Halloween party went well. It was gorgeous outside, so the kids ran themselves silly out on my parents' lawn. It was awesome. The yard was overrun by fairies and pirates and firefighters and Robin Hood and various other creatures. The WordGirl costume was a big hit, and Nan is wearing the cape as I write this. I think she'd sleep with it if I let her.
The best part of my enforced downtime is I get to play with my girl. We went to the playground, and I wasn't checking my watch the whole time, thinking I need to get home to work. (Ok... I /was/ checking my watch... but it was just because I was bored silly after 30 minutes, not because I had to get back to work.)
I did sign up to do NaBloPoMo... but. The layoff, etc, made me a giant FAILURE. I think I'll try to get back on the horse-- I will do my best to post daily for the rest of the month. Stop laughing.

I finished Natalie's outfit tonight. I cut out the star emblem and affixed it to her shirt. It looks awesome. I even cut out a spare, in case she works that one off in the course of trick-or-treating. Her cape is ready, her boots are in place, and she will look like WordGirl. Yay! She's getting excited-- they've been speaking about trick-or-treating at school, and singing spooky songs. She came home singing something about a pirate with a cough (WTF?), and something that ends with her screaming, "BOOOO!" at the top of her lungs. Jay had a half day at school today, so he picked her up from school. She was thrilled. I'm sure her teachers were relieved to see a competent parent pick her up-- this morning, I dropped her off with her shoes on the wrong feet. The shoes were put on the wrong feet BY ME. And she TRIED TO TELL ME THEY WERE WRONG and I blew her off. Sigh. Her teachers laughed, and Mrs. Nestor (whose daughter is in Nan's class) told me her daughter was wearing mis-matched socks this morning. Glad to know I'm not the only incompetent parent. As Jay's on fall break now, he and Nan are visiting the Children's Museum tomorrow. She's super excited to see the dinosaurs-- she says SHE'S a dinosaur, and she's going to go back to the museum to see her dino brothers and sisters. Silly girl.

Halloween is creeping up, and I've got a lot to do. I have to put the finishing touches on Nan's WordGirl outfit, and I have a lot of cooking to do for our Halloween party on Saturday. (Yes, it's the day AFTER Halloween, but I wanted to have a party. So there.) I have a tendency to take on too much, because I am a control-freak beyond all control-freaks. I have delegated a few tasks, but I'm taking on the brunt of the food. I'm cooking chili-- meatful and meatless-- and cornbread, a few appetizers and a grownup dessert. And possibly 18 sugar cookies if no one else steps up to bring them. I am crazy. Oh, and I'm planning the crafts for the children and the decorating. The list-making alone has made me nuts. Why, oh why, do I do this? Because I love it. I love getting people I love together, to eat and laugh and drink and play. I love seeing the kids I haven't seen in almost a year, I love watching the pack of children run around like lunatics. We usually do this at Christmas time, but it's gotten so busy at that time of year that we decided to move it to Halloween. I am looking forward to a more casual, laid-back meal, and hopefully I can get everything done.
Nan keeps changing her mind about her outfit-- she has decided to be a pumpkin, a pirate, and a cucumber, just today. I keep gently guiding her back to the outfit that we've already put together-- she WILL BE WORDGIRL. Too damned bad, kid. Next year, you get a little more autonomy re. your Halloween costume. For now? I still have some say in her ensemble. Thank god.

Nan's on fall break this week-- no school on Wednesday or Friday. It was sorely missed, to say the least. But, frankly, her immune system could use a break. She can't shake this nasty cough-- it sounds like she's been smoking for forty years-- and she's got a perpetual runny nose. So, I called the doctor. Again. I was looking for a refill on the cough syrup. Instead, I got an 8:30 am appointment. Argh. We can barely get to school at 9, let alone anywhere before that. I scheduled the appointment for Thursday, the day we planned to go to the pumpkin farm with my mom and dad. Or, as I explained it to Nan on Thursday morning, "HEY! We're going to Grandma and Grandpa's house, and then to the PUMPKIN FARM! But first, we've got to make a quick stop..." Poor kid. I didn't tell her 'til we were in the parking lot of the doctor's office that she had an appointment with Dr. O. Of course, the tears started, and I had to drag my limp rag of a child into the office. She was fine when we got in there, and was an excellent patient. Here's the funny thing-- the doctor thinks she has allergies. That isn't funny, of course-- what's funny is she suggested Nan might be allergic to our cats. You know, like Jay talked himself into believing so he could soothe his conscience when we decided to find new homes for the kitties. Whatever gets my archnemesis, Miles, out of the house. I hope it helps Nan feel better. I know I'll feel better when there's not cat pee in my hallway. Anyway, Nan's now on an extensive regimen of allergy meds. We're to revisit the doctor in a month and reassess her condition. But, when I laid her down for her nap that afternoon, I realized-- she was still. coughing. After a drastically curtailed nap, I called the nurse back and begged for some sort of relief for my kid and myself. She recommended an OTC cough syrup, and that helped a little. She's exhausted, and snotty, and only wants me. It's nice to be loved, but right now I'd love nothing more than to leave her at my mom's for a night or two without a backward glance. That wouldn't be fair to her OR my mom at this point-- everybody would be miserable. My mom made a half-hearted offer to keep her last night, but I could see the fear that I would take her up on it in her eyes. I told mom to bring her home at bedtime.
After the visit to the doctor (complete with flu shot-- I really AM evil), we went to Grandma and Grandpa's, as previously advertised. My dad had gone out and bought doughnuts in honor of our visit, and we'd definitely earned them. So we scarfed our doughnuts, and headed to the farm. Nan got to experience her first hayride. Her face was priceless-- she was amazed, and enthralled. She tossed hay in the air, and grinned from ear to ear. We chose our pumpkins, and after we purchased them we went to the barn to visit the baby animals. My sweet girl squatted down by the baby goats, and sang them the lullaby I sing her every time I put her to bed. So cute. All in all, a lovely outing. My parents enjoyed the time with Nan, and she thought it was extra-special to have Grandpa along. My dad is something of a workaholic, and doesn't get to go on outings like that very often. They had a ball.
Damn. She's coughing again, and crying for me. Off I go, to rock and soothe...

Today my one of my big parental fears was realized; my kid was in trouble, and I couldn't help her. Let me explain. We met friends at McDonald's for lunch, and the kids were climbing on the Playland structure like crazed monkeys. Nan was apprehensive about coming down to eat, but my friend's five-year-old son helped to guide her down. We ate, and the kids went back to their play. After 20 minutes or so, I asked Alex to go and guide Nan back down again. He helped her down from the very highest level, but she landed hard on her butt on the descent. This shook her confidence in his helping abilities, so she started to cry for me. From the top of the crazed hamster-maze of the playstructure. There is no way an average adult could squiggle her way up through the tiny spaces, and I particularly couldn't navigate these platforms. It was heartbreaking-- she stuck her fingers through the protective netting, and screamed for me. And all I could do was flail helplessly below her, pleading with her to follow Alex. She just clung harder to the netting and cried like her limbs were being severed. All the other parents looked on with sympathy, but there wasn't anything any adult could do. Finally, finally, a sweet seven-year-old boy offered to go up and help her. He was just big enough so she felt comfortable with him picking her up. He gently lifted her and carried down each level, as she wailed for me. It was the longest ten minutes ever. It seems silly and melodramatic now, but I can't describe the terrible feeling of her needing me, and me not being able to come to her aid. When she finally got down, she clung to me like a monkey. And I was hanging on to her for dear life, too. The whole way home she spoke about "the SCAREDY place". She was eager for her nap, and she slept for a long time. She didn't need me to sit in her room today-- but I needed to sit there for awhile.