But I did forget to carve the pumpkin.

You'll excuse me a little Halloween hubris. After last year's costume FAIL, I approached this year's holiday with a determination bordering on neurosis. Bruce's mom graciously went to Jo-Ann's with me to buy the felt to DIY this beauty. Her only miscalculation? That I wouldn't need the 1/2 yard of orange felt that I insisted on purchasing. While, technically, she was correct in that a 1/2 yard is more than enough felt to create a Bamm Bamm costume for an entire prehistoric village, what she didn't realize is that I would have to make the skirt three times before I got it right. Measure twice, cut once, right? Except, no. That's not what I did.

Anyway, skipping ahead...after much sewing, ironing, gluing, velcroing and, finally, safety-pinning, I ended up with this:

Do I hear the Halloween angels singing?

The only minor problem was, Sam didn't want any part of the costume. Time came for the Halloween party at his daycare's church, and things turned violent when I tried to dress him. You'll note I left out as part of the costume the club that Bamm Bamm always carried with him in the Flinstones. That was intentional. Finally, after distracting Sam with a brownie (Bruce tried an apple. Rookie.), I got it on him. He then ripped the bone most of the way off, but I safety pinned it back on. And we were off!


Bamm Bamm!


Group photo! You'll see Sam looks a little cross, while I appear to be manically smiling and gripping his arm with a little too much enthusiasm. That seems about right.


Choosing a sucker from the sucker tree (as I coined it).


Enjoying his first spoils of Halloween.

We'll see if I can wrestle him back into the costume for actual trick-or-treating. Bruce, get the apples ready!

A breakfast conversation with a two-year-old

Me: Sam, what do you want for breakfast?
Sam: Candy!
Me: No, you can't have anymore candy (he gets a chewable vitamin with breakfast that he calls candy).
Sam: Choo Choo Train!
Me: OK, I'm going to give you a few choices....
Sam: Choices! Choices!
Me: Yogurt, egg, cereal, toast...
Sam: No! Choices! Choices!
Me: Sam, no, choices isn't a food. You can have your *choice* of egg, yogurt...
Sam: CHOOOIIIIICCESSSSSSS.....!

I never did figure out what he thought choices was, but he ultimately accepted cinnamon toast and sliced banana.

The bike.

I haven't gotten many good photos of Sam lately, largely because he has figured out that when I pull out the phone or camera he can see pictures of himself on it. Here's how it goes down: Sam does something cute. Typical. I pull out the camera. Sam stops doing something cute and runs straight for me to see his picture on the camera. I snap off a quick shot that ends up being a super close-up of his shoulder. Sam cries because he doesn't like the picture of his shoulder. I try taking another one by telling him to stand still while I back up quickly and stealthily, like a reverse ninja. Sam is still crying, either still upset about the botched shoulder shot or because I'm walking away. I take a photo of Sam crying. Everyone forgets what he was doing that was so darn cute anyway. Ah, memories.

Case in point.


Looking back through the photo archives, I see I never posted follow-up shots of Sam riding his new tricycle. He rides proudly, if not expertly.



 
Edited to add: You know, we don't make him wear the helmet, right? I mean, I'm safety conscious to be sure, but I don't see us investing in a helmet yet. The helmet is a hand-me-down from a wonderful neighbor, and Sam loves it.

Sam Tours UNC

Performance Art in The Pit

Running!

Jumping!

With Daddy & Grandma at the Iconic Old Well

Festifall

Sam loves a good street festival! Last Sunday we made an appearance at the Chapel Hill arts festival, Festifall. It was low-key and humble. No blaring music, no bouncy castles, no NASCAR, no corporate tents shooting out samples of power drinks through a t-shirt gun. Just how we like our street festivals.


Here's Sam, just mingling with the crowd.


Firetruck! Oddly colored, but still!

HOT NOW

Milestone Alert!

Sam enjoyed his first Krispy Kreme doughnut yesterday. Technically, it was my doughnut (Pumpkin Spice, yay), and I made the key error of offering him a bite. An error, I might point out, that Bruce did not make with his chocolate frosted glazed. One bite turned into more, until I just gave him half of the darn thing. I might have gotten a photo of the momentous occasion, but he had swallowed it whole and was asking for more (spewing doughnut crumbs) before I could even find my phone.

Clearly Sam got his KK affection from his Aunt Christy.