Our Hallows Eve

This year was the year of Oz.  

My dad showed the girls that movie a few months back and there was no discussion needed.  

Oz it was.

(Aubrey: Dorothy, Me: The Wicked Witch, Brooklyn: Glinda, Luke: The Tin Man, Cameron: The Cowardly Lion.)

 So... I whipped up a little Glinda costume with my bare hands, some left-over fabric, 10 yards of tulle, absolutely no pattern, a pair of pink tights, 2 flexible cutting boards, glitter glue, a pack of rhinestones, a wing and a prayer.

 The First Place Award for Group Costume would suggest that I pulled it off. 

 Next, I had to whip together a Tin Man costume for Luke using a windshield sun protector, a stapler, 4 snaps, a funnel, a cardboard heart, a picture of a clock, and a Costco apple package. 

Not even joking.

Cameron and Aubrey's costumes are vintage.  

I wore Aubrey's Dorothy costume at her age, and my Grandma made Cameron's costume 15 years ago.

 We hit up the ward Trunk-or-Treat party and had ourselves a blast.  

 Right there in the middle of the Trunk-or-Treat, Luke and Aubrey broke out in a full-on dance party.  

Those two are something special.

Then Cameron practically fell asleep while sucking on a sucker and we took the poor kid home.  

 Halloween night we hit up the hottest party in town at our friend's house.

Luke wouldn't wear his full costume and I wanted to hit him.

Also, I am super graceful and I spilled an entire bowl of soup all over myself which was really awesome.

  

The food was delightful, though.  

And so was the company.

Look at these faces. 

Oh, boy.  We are so in trouble in a few years. 

The Cowardly Lion spent the entire night attempting to prove his bravery by running into the street. 

 It got very, very old very, very quickly.

 

 Then Snow White licked Dorothy on the shoulder.

Ha.lar.ious. 

 

Eventually we got around to Trick-or-Treating.  

 There were about 15 kids sprinting from door-to-door (and more than once inviting themselves right into some strangers house) demanding candy and eating it almost as quickly as they could gather it.

 Grandma and Grandpa got in on the action too, and what a party it was.

Happy Halloween from all the munchkins in Oz.

Ghosts of Halloweens Past

I found some pictures. 

And they need to be shared with the world. 

(Me on the left.  Brittany on the right.  I wonder how many people thought I was a boy this Halloween.  I'm going with A. LOT.)

This is the year that I was a Russian mail-order bride and people made me make out with my cousin (the groom).  And Brittany was once again - a witch.  She was thrilled.  I remember her throwing a tantrum when my mom painted her green.  

And mom is a home-made shark - and NOT a very specific body part.  (Come on - tell me you see it!!) (Grandma obviously sees it - look at that smirk!)

Brittany - Dorothy.  Me - Glinda.  

This may have been my favorite costume ever.  And my crown is made out of a milk carton.  Uh huh.

 

The next year I got the privilege of being Dorothy.  (And privilege it was.)

(Left to right: Cousin Alyse, Brother Brad, Cousin Banks, Brittany (Orphan Annie), Baby Jocelyn, Me, Aunt Tammy.)

We like to recycle in this family.  :)

Me.  Snow White.  (Obviously.)

(Could someone really not have just tucked my bangs in under the wig?  Seriously, people.)

 That year Brittany was Pippy Longstocking and my mom put wire in her braids so they stuck straight out just like Pippy's.  Not one person knew who she was.

 Let's just take a moment to appreciate my pants. 

And this may be my favorite Halloween photo ever.

(Me - BYU Cougarette, Brittany - the Little Mermaid, Brad - A Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle - Leonardo to be exact.) 

First of all - my parents let her wear that to a Church Primary party.

(She's probably making the face in this picture that most of the adults were making when she walked into the room.)

Secondly - my mom made all of these costumes with her bare hands.  Look at that turtle.  Look at it!

Third of all - Brittany got sick that Halloween and was throwing up all over the place and so I had to take her Halloween bag trick-or-treating and ask for double candy at every house and some people were not too nice about it and I hated it.  The end. 

The Happiest Place On Earth (No, Really.)

 Recently (against every single one of our budget analysis and financial reports), we bought ourselves a little "Welcome to California" present.  

Disneyland Annual Passports.

For reals.

Our first trip, we decided to surprise the girls and not tell them where we were going.  We did give them hints such as, "It's the most fun place in the world."  And "It's so, so, so, so, so, so fun."
Brooklyn thought we were going to McDonalds.

She eventually conceded that Disneyland might be more fun, though.

And it was.

The first ride we went on was Tower of Terror.

(I asked them to show me a "scary face" for this picture.  Aubrey apparently equates scary with smiling baby kittens.)

Our scary faces were a little more realistic.  

This picture was taken before the ride.  After the ride, Brooklyn was crying.
She was FAH-REAK-ED out.
She's had several nightmares since.  

Tower of Terror.  Who would have thought?

After that, she was even scared of the darling little Flick.  

Honestly.  

That ride did a number on her. 

We attempted to check out Cars Land since it's new and it looks incredible.  

But the lines were 2 hours long and we weren't having it.

So we settled for the Little Mermaid Carousel and the Ferris Wheel.

Later that day we met up with some friends and the fun quota got kicked up another notch.

 The general consensus was: 

Splash Mountain is the best.  

The Ferris Wheel was scary as all heck.

Space Mountain was better in high school.

Tower of Terror was created by the devil.

And...

Disneyland really is the Happiest Place on Earth.

Child Labor

Aubrey is a helper. 

So, it should come as no surprise that the day Luke decided to tackle the ridiculously over-grown backyard, Aubrey wandered out in her "gloves", "boots" (on the wrong feet), and "work goggles" to help out. 

She lasted all day in the 95 degree heat.

 

And Cameron was super jealous.

(P.S.  Please don't judge us by our patio cover.  The thing is hideous.  We're aware.) 

We're just going to enjoy the free child labor while it lasts.

What A Weekend

The In-laws came last week.  

Which sounds scary, but if you knew my inlaws, you wouldn't be scared at all.
They're the most mellow, sweet, easy-going people I know.
And we had a blast. 

Over the Conference Weekend (which is always a highlight of my year), we headed to the coast to dig our toes into the sand and enjoy a drama-free, happy, peaceful, relaxing day on the beach.

Or not.

Apparently, like father like son. 
 
 
Although Cameron did decide to start having fun right around the time the seagulls started flocking to our bag of food. 
He found them delightful and set out on a mission to capture one with his bare hands.
He would get up, take 4-5 steps, eat it, get up again, take a few more steps, fall, get up.  Repeat.  Again and again. 

He spent the better part of an hour harassing one single sea gull.
The bird would pretend to not be paying attention to him and let him get super close and then totally casually just talk a few unrushed steps away. 

He was bating him.
And Cameron was getting ticked.




We thought eventually Cameron would give up, but that boy was d.e.t.e.r.i.m.i.n.e.d.
He was taking no prisoners.  
Actually, he really hoped he was taking a prisoner.   

He pursued.  The sea gull teased.  He kept at it.  The sea gull taunted.  He wouldn't quit.  The sea gull wouldn't either.
So, I picked Cameron up and ran at the bird full speed screaming at him at the top of my lungs and scaring both of them half to death.
Neither one thought it was very funny.  

But we distracted Cameron with some sand and all was well.

The girls on the other hand, are their mother's daughters.  

I grew up on the beach and it feels like  home to me.  

(Except - let's keep it real - I'm paranoid of sharks.  I've seen one-too-many episodes of Shark Week to be wading out past waist-deep.  I will. not. do. it.)

The girls started a shell collection and somewhere along the line this very serious conversation occurred.  

Shells are no laughing matter, people.

I asked Luke to take some pictures of me with the kids since I'm always behind the camera and hence have no pictures with me in them. 

He took his job extremely seriously, and dove right in there by photographing some very touching pictures of my butt.

This is what he got:

The joke's on him.

He did manage to get a few decent ones that did not involve my backside.

What a day.

The rest of the weekend was spent in pajamas, not showering, cuddled in bed, eating too many cinnamon rolls and listening to 8 hours of General Conference.

What a weekend.