Halloween

This year was Nora's first time trick-or-treating, and we talked about it for weeks and weeks ahead of time. We had more than one meltdown when Nora decided she wanted to trick or treat RIGHT THEN and couldn't understand why she had to wait.

I have a philosophical objection to store-bought costumes. Growing up, we raided my mom's closet for costume ideas, which resulted in endless variations on the "hobo" and "gypsy" looks (Mom, what does that say about your wardrobe?). Motherhood, however, has so far kept me too busy to actually do many of the domestic duties I associate with motherhood, so off to Old Navy we went to check out their costume selection.

We looked at a lot of costumes I thought Nora would fall for right away-- monkey, doggy, butterfly, princess even-- but each was met with a scornful "NO!" Finally I turned to the "boy" rack and pulled a racecar driver outfit out. "Would you like to be a racecar driver?" I asked? "Yeaaaaaahhhh!" she breathed, and it was decided-- much to her father's delight.

For the next two weeks, however, whenever anyone asked her what she was going to be for Halloween, she eagerly responded, "Butterfly!" So just to be safe, I got her some butterfly wings and a little tulle skirt.

Here she is on a trial run of the backup outfit:

But when the big day finally arrived, Nora was firmly in Camp Racecar Driver. Here she is posing with her daddy, a "Pleasant Ridge Chili-an Miner."

Her first trick or treat.

Carefully inspecting her draw.

With Itsy

Checking out the neighborhood's newest little bug.