Why Christmas Music is Bad

Okay, so it's not really bad.  But sometimes the feelings it conjures up, are bad.  I'm at work and at hearing "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas", I'm teary.  It's so embarrassing to be teary at work.  Raccoon eyes, here I come!  You know the part where the song says "through the years we all will be together, if the faiths allow".  Yeah, that part got to me in such a bad way.  I've been okay, trudging through and trying not to be sad... yet.  And they had to go and play that damn song. 

Today my mom and grandma stopped by my house.  The first thing out of my nieces mouth was "Nana Lou, I heard your going to die".  Fortunately, Grandma didn't hear her.  From the mouths of babes.  We have to have a good talk with all the kids because they're thinking about death too much these days.  I'm at a loss here.  I don't know how much to explain, how much to hold back.  Will they be scarred by these experiences.  Tristan asked me today why so many in our family have cancer, and will he get cancer.  Oh. My. Gawd.  The. Questions.    These are the times I seriously wonder who thought to leave me in charge of these young minds and hearts.  It's a slippery slope.  I think at this point I'll have faith in their intelligence and be completely honest.  Asi Es La Vida.  That's life after all.  No way to sugar coat death. 

On a happy note, a family reunion is on its way.  We're going to have a terrific weekend.  Most of the family will be together so there will be much partying and laughing going on.  Thank goodness!  I need a good party right about now.

Heavy of Heart and Bleary of Eye

Oy Vay!  Where to begin. 

It all began on Sunday morning.  We've been concerned about my grandmother who had been very jaundice for about a week.  We took her to her physician and he ordered blood work but with the holiday we knew it would be  a while before we had any results and we also knew she would probably need a cat-scan or ultrasound.  Something.  Having been through this so recently with my Uncle, we're kinda pros with the whole cancer thing.  Which leads me to wonder, what are the chances of losing 2 family members in the same year to the same thing.   Mother and son, pancreatic cancer.

So on Sunday, I convinced my mom that we needed to go to the ER.  I'm too impatient, and knew that with going through the emergency department, we would get all testing done right away.

A few tests later and we've learned that she is terminal.  The Oncologist said that she had a few days to a couple of weeks to live.  I'm still boggled by this news.  How can it be that just a few weeks ago we were searching the streets for her while she had her little adventure, and now...

My heart is breaking. 

My grandmother lives right down the street from me, and she is a part of my daily life.  I can't imagine her not being a part of my life.  She's been around for 87 years, and has outlived so many.  Including 2 of her sons.  She has lived a long life, and we've been fortunate that she has not had any health issues.  Up until now.  In fact, seeing her in a hospital bed was a trip because she'd never been there. 

I wish I could have a little of her Alzheimer's so that I could forget too.  She's okay because she doesn't remember.  We explained it to her, but it's no longer in her memory.  She knows somethings up with Hospice coming over and all the fuss we're making over her.  She's kinda like "what's the big deal".    But, oblivion is bliss. 

Our little familia will be okay.   It's just going to be hard to watch her fade away.   The light of our lives is going to burn out, and waiting for that inevitability is just too much to bear.

Edited to add that the last few days have not been all sadness.  We have laughed a lot, as we usually do.  I love that about my family.  We can find humor in anything and at times like these, you need a good sense of humor.  So we are happy to have this time left with Grandma, to laugh and joke as we always have.  I hope I get to share one more Bud Light with her.  That's her absolute favorite.

One Word

This was taken from Sarcomical. 

One word, because after my busy week, that's all I have.  Sometimes 1 word is all you need.

Yourself: Unsure
Your partner: Funny
Your hair: Flatironed
Your mother: Hyper
Your father: E-mail
Your favorite item: Chapstick
Your dream last night: Forgotten

Your favorite drink: Ice Tea
Your dream car: Invincible
Your dream home:  Basement
The room you are in: Work
Your ex: Cheater
Your fear: Loss
Where you want to be in ten years: Comfortable
Who you hung out with last night: Brother-in-law
What you're not: Tall
Muffins: Zucchini
One of your wish list items: Teeth
Time: Fast
The last thing you did: Read
What you are wearing: Velour
Your favorite weather: Cloudy
Your favorite book: Drama
Last thing you ate: Salad

Your life: Content

Your mood: Sleepy
Your best friends: Familia

What are you thinking about right now: Home

Your car: Messy
What are you doing at the moment: Working
Your summer: HOT
Relationship status: Complete

What is on your tv: CNN
What is the weather like: Perfect
When is the last time you laughed: Earlier

And last but not least. One word for how this kid feels now that the holiday season is among us: ECSTATIC. One word for how I feel: Stressed.

I Love Craig, Whoever he is

Craig's List , I love you. Who the hell is Craig anyway? Whoever he is, I'm thankful for Craig's list. That awesome site brought me and my new couch together. We paid $325 and it sells at Ikea for $700. It has a scratch. I laughed when they pointed the scratch out. "Ha, you call that a scratch, just wait until my kids get a hold of it".

If you haven't been on Craig's list, you must. It's thoroughly entertaining. It's fun to see the prices people put on the crappiest stuff. Like the 10 year old Southwest style sofa for $500. The descriptions are pretty funny too. Like someone calling a chaise a "long chair".

So, tomorrow after the feasting is done (and feasting will be done, thank you very much) the family will plant themselves on and around the lovely new couch with their top buttons undone. We will moan and groan that we're "so full". And with that, we will all be truly thankful because there is nothing better than a full tummy and good company.

I'm Coming Out

Okay, I'm not so embarrassed after all.  Although not knowing whether or not a pumpkin might be rotting in the dark recesses of your home is nothing to be proud of.  Doesn't say much for my housekeeping skills, I suppose.  But the pumpkin is whole and healthy, sitting on Tristan's book shelf.   So the smell, was stinky feet.  Most likely my nephews, because I notice it when he's there and it magically disappears when he leaves.  No one's allowed to wear shoes in my house. I might have to rethink that rule.  Yay, mystery solved.  Mystery smells are no fun. 

In other news, I'm sleep deprived.  Although that's not news since I'm sleep deprived about 80% of the time.  In my sleep deprived state, tonight I admitted something to my colleagues.  Something that I don't admit to anyone because I don't want them to think differently about me because of it.   Something that I feel I have to keep in the closet because no self respecting woman would ever want to be caught, or would admit to listening to this person.

Although I know my mother-in-law might be slightly horrified by this news, here it goes. I'm coming out of the closet.   

I listen to Howard Stern.

(Gasps of horror)

I know he elicits a lot of controversy and mixed emotions.  I know he's a dirty dog and demeans women on a regular basis.  I know that a lot of people think that he's the devil incarnate and has no place in society.   I on the other hand, don't think he's all that bad.  Except for the dirty dog thing.  He IS a dirty dog. 

When I said that I was listening to Howard Stern the other day, the immediate reaction of those around me was "I HATE HIM!!!"  And that reaction is the reason that I don't go around admitting to listening to his show.  I'm one of those lemming types that cares what people think .  And when people think of Howard Stern listeners, they don't think of soccer moms; more like hairy, lonely, pervy types.  And although I might be a little hairy, I'm certainly not lonely or pervy.   To be perfectly honest, if you listen to the people who call in, they do sound kind of lonely and pervy.  So, you can see why he's my biggest secret.

The reasons I like him; he cracks me up, he's not afraid to speak his mind, no matter who he pisses off, he does the best celebrity interviews, and he likes to watch all the same shows and movies that I do.  He's like a girl in that sense, and I can relate to him.  He loves his daughters and girlfriend and talks about that on a regular basis.  He loves the animals and cares about social and environmental issues.  He's a human being after all. 

Yeah, he does get out of control, A LOT.  And that's when I exercise one of the most fundamental rights that I have as an American.  I TURN THE DIAL.  I make the choice to not listen, and I turn the dial.  It's as easy as that. 

So now you know that there are mystery smells in my house and I  listen to Howard Stern.  I realize I'm not painting the prettiest picture here, but this is me.   I wear my mom hat very well, but I relish the moment when I can drop the kids off, and be myself.  Listen to whatever I want, no matter how naughty.  I can only listen to so much of the Curious George Movie soundtrack.  Also, when you've been married as long as I have, and go out as seldom as I do, I need to feel like I'm living on the edge every once in a while.  Listening to Howard gives me the sense of something rebellious, and we all need a little bit of that.

Remnants of Halloween

This is really embarrassing, but I just realized that I haven't seen Tristan's Pumpkin in a long time.  It wasn't carved, thank goodness, but still.  It was pretty beat up. 

Yesterday I walked around saying "who's feet stink".  No one would claim the stinky feet, so I'm starting to think that maybe there's a stinky pumpkin laying somewhere.  Probably under someone's bed where the goo has had ample time to stick to the carpet and Legos.  I'll have to remember to ask him where his pumpkin went when I get home in the morning.  More than likely, I'll forget and wake up in the afternoon accusing all the kids of stinky feet, again. 

If I'm lucky, Travis found it and dumped it a long time ago.  If not wish me luck, I'm a going pumpkin hunting. 

My Not so Little Sister

Today I realized something about my relationship with my sister.  We're not very touchy feely, and this makes me kinda of sad. 

Today was her first model day at beauty school, and I was the lucky recipient of a hand facial, scalp massage, chair massage, rosemary mint deep conditioning treatment, and a blow dry. 

In the midst of all this pampering, we looked at each other and just laughed because we realized how absurd it is that we've never touched each other much and certainly not in this way.  Other than the occasional hug, we just don't touch.  She'll brush the occasional stray hair out of my face, but that's about it.  How do most sister's interact with each other?  I don't really know since I'm 7 years older than her, and she was always more annoying to me than anything else.  She was my burden.

How I wish I could go back and change all that now.   How I wish that we had spent time together talking and giggling into the night, french braiding each others hair.  I realize that was impossible with our age difference.  I mean she narked on me for everything.  Like when I was 15, and she was 8.  I had stopped and kissed a boy while on our walk home from school.  The minute our mom walked in the door I  heard "mom, dorky Nila kissed a boy".  Yeah, she called me dorky on a regular basis.  She was a punk even then. 

Despite everything, I'm so glad that we've been able to overcome our age difference.  I'm so grateful for her now, and not just because of all the free beautifying she can give me.  But because she's always good for a good laugh, she's always willing to go out for lunch with me, and because of her, I'm not so dorky anymore (or so I think).  She's one of the coolest people I know, and I'm so glad that she found her niche with beauty school.  She was so much in her element, and I haven't seen her this happy in a long time.  So I'm happy, I smell good, and I'm getting to know my sister all over again.  Bonding through beauty.  Who knew?

Alone Time

"Hey Travis, how much longer are you gonna hang out with Aaron."

"Um, I don't know. Til the beer's gone I guess."

"Well, just so you know, this is my last night off and after tonight, I won't see you for 3 days."

That was the end of our conversation, and 20 minutes later, I still sit here alone.

Our work schedules are strange in that we will often go about 72 hours where we see eachother for a total of 1 hour. Hi and Bye, is all we have time for. When I tell people about our schedule they joke that not seeing eachother so much is probably good for a marriage. What do you think? I've only been working this schedule for about 2 years, but I can say that we're okay with the time apart. Plus, our time apart is time that Travis gets to spend with the boys alone. I don't know what kind of boy bonding goes on while I'm gone, nor do I want to know. I'm just glad they have that time.

If you take your vows seriously, til death do you part is a long time. We will be married 15 years in December, and at this point I can say that we are very confident in our marriage, and we relish our time apart. This may not always be the case. As in every relationship, there is change, but for now, tag team parenting works for us. And the days we have together, like today, are that much more special.

Ha! Special my butt. I thought that perhaps in the time that I wrote this post, Travis would decide to ditch Aaron and hang out with me, but noooo.

I take that back, he just showed up.
Good husband. Good night.

My Stuff

Back when all the bloggers were posting pictures of the stuff in their bags, I didn't have a blog.  Now I do, so being the narcissist that I am, because I just know you care, here's my stuff.  The stuff that I can't seem to leave my house without.  The stuff that I can't live without.

What my stuff says about me, I don't know.  I like pink.   I especially love my pink Dr. Grip pen.  I've had that same pen for years, and the pink keeps the doctors at work from stealing it.   I realize that the pink phone might be a bit much, but it was the mother's day special and I'm a sucker for a sale.  I love Origins and Burt's Bees.   Can't live without my Ginger roll on perfume thingie.  The other stuff is boring, like my work badge, wallet, the Moleskine planner which I need to remember to use a lot more often.  And then there's the miscellaneous little pile of crap.  I always have a pocket full of receipts, change, hair clips, gum wrappers and lint.  All very important, of course.

Carrie Bradshaw  said it best; "Balls are to men what purses are to women".   

Who Says Big Boys aren't Supposed to Cry

Raising boys these days is a daunting task.  How to balance healthy emotions with all the things boys are supposed to be.  Whatever those things might be.  I grew up in a single parent household with 1 sister.  I don't know much about boys, but I do realize that being male in our society has got to be tough.  If a boy expresses so called feminine feelings, or deviates from accepted male behavior, they're subjected to labels.  Such as gay, sissy, cry baby, etc.  Well that's just bullshit, if you ask me.

Oprah had some guy on her show who wrote a book about this very subject.  He said "many boys feel they can't express their sadness, so instead they get angry".  How interesting.  This leads me to believe that if more boys were told it was okay to cry, the world would probably be a better place.

Last night, for the first time that I can remember since they were real young, one of my boys cried.  Real emotional tears.  Over the movie Curious George.  I didn't know why he was crying at first, and was becoming concerned.  He's not much of a crier, and usually only cries due to pain or frustration.  So when I asked him what was wrong he said through big tears, "the monkey's on that boat and he's leaving.  It makes me feel so emotional."

I didn't know what to say or do, so I just sat with him and held him.  I did tell him that it was a movie and usually, there's a happy ending.  I was trying to be careful not to discount his feelings, so I thought it better to just sit with him quietly.

It was one of the most special, touching moments that I've had as E-dog's mom, and I'm so proud of him and I'm proud of his big ole heart.  He has a heart of gold that kid, and I hope it stays that way.  I will try my hardest to keep him that way, but it's society and all the expectations that I'm worried about.  Everyone should be allowed a good cry now and then. 

Special Delivery

Look at what came in the mail today from Fussy.org. I'd add a link, but can't due to technical difficulties. Very exciting for me since I never order anything online. I'm one of those instant gratification types. I've got to be able to get my hands on whatever I'm spending money on, right then and there. A long sleeved T-shirt, just in time for our "cooler" weather. I especially like the message.

"Writing well is the best revenge" reminds me of last summer, when Travis was off work for a long time, and his future was uncertain. We wrote so many letters, we're sure they're the reason he didn't lose his job. It's not even about revenge, just about the satisfaction in knowing that you got your message accross. Sometimes writing is the only way to get people to listen.

Random, Just Like Me

I'm a NABLOPOMO failure.  That's right, I've failed.  1 week in, and I failed.  I can't post everyday.  I was wrong.  I can't even keep my kids in clean socks every day, what made me think I would actually turn on my computer and post every day.  I'm delusional. 

Can you believe that I go entire days without turning on a computer.  I can't believe it with all the good stuff out there to read.  I think that my 36 hour work weeks, in which I spend every last minute, save for the few when I'm in the restroom, but every last minute is spent in front of the computer.  2 monitors, mind you.  When I saw the 2 monitors, I was like oh great, they're trying to make us more efficient, but the truth is that it comes in handy.  One monitor for work stuff, and one for fun stuff.  Not that I do fun stuff at work.  No way, not me.   Anyway, my point was that I didn't post on the 1st and the 6th, so I failed.  Prizes will not be forthcoming.  I'm still going to try to post everyday for the month.  So no matter how mundane my life gets, I'll still be here writing about it.  Writing about boring stuff is better than not writing at all.  Now, having to read about the boring stuff, that's a different story.

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This morning my husband asked me if I ever blog about him.   No I said, not really.  He said "You should, no wait a minute, maybe not.  My mom probably doesn't want to read bad stuff about me". 

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I can't believe that tonight at work, our conversations have ranged from Saddam Hussein, the issues in Thailand, to who's more talented and pretty; Jessica Simpson, Britney Spears, or Christina Aguilera.  I vote for neither.  So glad to see that we're very well rounded around here.   

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Why is that it's November and it's still 90 degrees.  Seriously, the sun just needs to go away.  Bring on the clouds.  Pretty please.  Bring on the fall.  The flowers are blooming, the leaves are turning green.  That always surprises me about living out here.  While everyone else has fallen leaves and dead plants, our vegetation comes to life in the winter.  We're so backwards here.   On so many levels.

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This morning, I was singing the diarrhea songs with my son.  It's probably not very good parenting to teach your kid the diarrhea songs, especially since I'll be subjected to hearing them, over and over and over.  But the need to impress them was overwhelming.  He sang one of the songs, and I was all "I know those too!!!"  I know you remember them. 

When you're climbing up a ladder and you feel something splatter...diarrhea.  Some people think it's funny, but it's really kinda runny...diarrhea.  When you're swimming in the pool and you feel something cool...diarrhea. 

So, you see how impressive I am to an 8 year old boy?  I couldn't resist, and I find myself trying to remember more.  Help me. 

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And that's all for my convoluted post that makes no sense.  Hope you're all having sweet dreams while I sit here at work for the next 6 hours.  And yes, I would like some cheese with my whine. 

Growing Pains

Tonight we decided to give Tris his shot a little early since Travis was going out, and I still can't do it. Tris freaked out and didn't want it. It was out of his routine, and we've been bad about giving it to him lately. We did it, and he survived. I just hate that we have to do it.

Travis went with me to drop them off at school the other day, and he noticed the size difference between him and his classmates. He decided that it was time to buckle down and get serious with this Humatrope, or as we call it, growing juices. So again, I declare that we will do it every day, no matter how difficult, or how much we have to torture our child. I know it's in his best interest. It's just a tiny little needle anyway. I'll just keep telling myself that.

I Am Betty La Fea

I realize why I like Ugly Betty so much. I was her, maybe I still am. Whatever the case might be, this picture is so funny, and it reminds me of an era in my life that has shaped who I am today.

This picture was probably taken in 1992. I don't know exactly when, or where but in the original my husband is standing next to me. Can you believe I was already married? Braces and all. I wore those braces for 3 years, and they were painful. I only wish I could have gotten them when was younger. Wedding picutres sans braces would have been so much better.

I guess I should be thankful for even having had braces, and no longer having to live with the affliction of crooked teeth. Call me melodramatic, but do you have any idea how difficult it is to go about your formative years with crooked teeth? The insecurity. I perfected the art of laughing behind my hand, like a bashful girl. My teeth, they were bad. Before I could get the braces on, I had to have 9 teeth extracted. My mom had tried to get them fixed before, but the orthodontist wanted to fix my tongue thrust first. That sounds so dirty. The tongue thrust was not going to get fixed, so we kinda gave up, not to mention that the teeth are a family trait. Many in my famiy have them, although probably not as bad as mine. So I waited longer than usual.

I know we all had our issues, like frizzy hair, or bad acne. And perhaps in the grand scheme of things, my crooked teeth really weren't a big deal. But to this day, I still have a hard time smiling. I always here the voice of this girl Monica in the 6th grade, saying "Nila should do a toothpase commercial and say that if you don't brush your teeth, this is what they will look like". That little bitch! So, I still don't know how to smile. Maybe there's a support grop for this. I'm thinking of joining the 365 Days group on Flickr, where you take a self portrait every day of the year, and upload it to their site. I should be able to smile a little more in pictures after that. I would hope. Otherwise, I'll be stuck with this smart ass look. Must learn how to smile.

I Made It

I can't believe I'm posting at 11:53 pm. Go me. I've been asleep for most of the day. Other than yoga class and Ethan's basketball game, it's been all about sleep.

One of my kids have become obsessed with Christmas music. ALREADY! I like it, but not this early. Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday, so I don't like the way we just kiinda skip over it and move right on the the next bigger, shinnier thing. So the Christmas music this soon is overkill. But he says; "it makes me feel so happy and warm, and all kinds of good things". I want to say Bah, whatever. But nooooo, put on a June Cleaver smile and nod, like the good, supportive mom I'm supposed to be. All I can say is THANKS ALOT 99.9 KEZ for starting your non stop Christmas music next week. Tonight was a big night because they played it from 7-11.

Enouth with the scrooging. I must need more sleep, but really; are you ready for all this stuff? Time goes by fast enough as it is, if only I could figure out how to slow it down.

Darn You NABLOPOMO, I have nothing to say

I have nothing new to report, and that is a good thing.  No grandma's escaping, so I didn't have to don my superhero outfit today.

I did, however, buy new shoes which are more mom like that superhero.   I really wanted flats, but there are so many choices out there, none of which looked too comfortable.  I haven't owned a pair of flats since like the 10th grade.  I tend to wear a lot of sneakers, flip flops, or Diesel shoes.  I don't even own a pair of heels.  I know, I'm fashionably deprived. 

I really like my shoes, but I'm worried they might look too "old lady".  They're super comfortable and they reminded me of my days in penny loafers.  Remember how popular those were in the 80's?  I wonder why that trend hasn't come back.  They brought leggings back, why not penny loafers.

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Since I'm boring and have nothing much to say, I'll leave you with one of my favorite poems.  It describes how so many of us feel on a daily basis.  Eventhough the poem is about a bygone era, it sounds like my life today, as well as the lives of many moms.

Woman Work

I've got the children to tend The clothes to mend The floor to mop The food to shop Then the chicken to fry The baby to dry I got company to feed The garden to weed I've got shirts to press The tots to dress The can to be cut I gotta clean up this hut Then see about the sick And the cotton to pick. Shine on me, sunshine Rain on me, rain Fall softly, dewdrops And cool my brow again. Storm, blow me from here With your fiercest wind Let me float across the sky 'Til I can rest again. Fall gently, snowflakes Cover me with white Cold icy kisses and Let me rest tonight. Sun, rain, curving sky Mountain, oceans, leaf and stone Star shine, moon glow You're all that I can call my own. Maya Angelou

                                                                                                                   

Grandma's Big Day Out

Once upon a time, in the not so enchanted valley of the sun, there lived a lonely, bored, little old lady. The little old lady spent her days puttering around her garden, watching telenovelas and trashy spanish talk shows. The little old lady wasn't really too lonely, she had lots of people that came to visit her, but those people were never around when she really wanted them to be. So, one beautiful afternoon, full of boredom and the thirst for adventure, she set out for a walk. It would have been a good walk, if only she could remember how to get back home...

The little old lady is my grandma, and I'm finally sitting down to rest after spending 3 hours searching for her. My uncle, whom she lives with, had gone to work and when he got home she was missing. Nowhere to be found. We drove around in circles thinking that she couldn't have gotten too far. After all, she didn't have any money or ID with her. We thought she was in the early stages of Alzheimer's, but now realize that it's probably advancing.

I had no luck in my search, so when Travis got home from work, we set out. We looked everywhere. We stopped by a convenience store for drinks, and I asked the clerk if he by any chance had seen a lost looking old lady. He directed me to the lady standing outside with her shopping cart, he heard her say something about her friend being lost. I'm not accustomed to approaching homeless people, so I wasn't too sure. But sure enough, she had spent time with my grandma, standing outside of the Circle K, I guess. The shopping cart lady had a lot to say, then got on to talking about her brain injuries. We were trying to be as polite as possible, but had to get the hell out of there. We had a clue. The police, including a helicopter were out looking as well. It was important to find her before It got dark. We then followed the path of stores and restaurants along the street the lady said she was on. I asked at a Mexican grocery store, and they remembered seeing someone. We were hot on her trail, so we drove on.

And like a miracle, I saw her in the dark. I recognized her form and he way she walks. She was walking along the street with a homeless lady. They were at a bus stop. I don't even want to imagine where she might have ended up if that bus had come along before we could. The homeless lady was ready to come home with her, but we gave her money and thanked her profusely. Grandma, well she was happy as a clam. She didn't know what all the fuss was about. She thought she was back in El Paso. Old El Paso, her one true love. She was out making friends, having an adventure, she was oblivious.

You cannot imagine our relief. I never ever again want to experience the feeling of having a loved one go missing. It's the weirdest feeling, one of helplessness and fear. For 3 hours, I had to try hard not to be sick. It was so nice when the police officer said "Um, thanks for helping us find her".

Travis and I make a stellar team, and we saved the day. It is a fabulous night knowing that grandma is safely tucked away. Not out roaming the streets with homeless people. Alls well that ends well.

Meemo Mobile

They start out with all the energy and enthusiasm in the world, although invariably, by the end of the night, I end up with a kid on my back.  Tristan called me the Meemo mobile.  Looking at how tired I look, Perhaps I needed to ride on someone's back. 

We walked and walked, and walked.  We collected lots of candy, and the kids had a blast.  The best part is that Tristan does not like candy, so guess who gets his loot.  I would say it was a successful night.

So, on to the next holiday.  And the next holiday is my favorite, so November is a happy month.  Happy November!  May it be a good month.  Oh, and have fun raiding the kids candy supply.