pleading whispers.

last minute on sale pumpkins.
please be good in the store threats.
6 o clock pm on the eve before halloween.

i've felt lost and heavy with a husband feeling much too far away in an area bombarded with wind and rain and hurricane.  i am used to being a sole parent on his days away.  but extreme weather often makes me feel more alone and aware of what ifs. 

i had contemplated forgetting about pumpkins altogether ... feeding the squirrels just wasn't in my october budget.  and then i remembered that pumpkin carving is important.  so we whisked away to the store and bought on sale pumpkins.

on sale perfectly round gorgeous gourds in hand, we had dinner. 
and set out to carve.

of course i had preconceived pinterest notions of vw bus carvings and witches with green noses.
and then i let the kids take over and map out silly faces over the orange bumps of the gourd. while i carved out their designs and said "stand back" and made claims about the sharpness of knives and emergency room needles.

we did homework.  cora researched pumpkins for kindergarten and sang me a song about the lifecycle of a pumpkin. 
how do you fix a broken jack o' lantern?  with a pumpkin patch!
was the bit of information that she found most important enough to include on her homework.
also?  pumpkin flowers are edible.
just in case you were wondering.

stella struggled to combine spelling words into sentences.  harder than it sounds, yo.
wrote/wrists.  wring/wrap.  gnat/gnawed.  knock/speaks.
and on and on.

i may or may not have threatened to compost pumpkins for people that were not finishing their homework.

i didn't.  of course.
even though homework took forever.

finn was so tired. 
he balked at the mention of bed.  and went to tell me i'm stupid and weird.  because that's what the boy always says anymore. 
i quietly said ...
santa.
and my boy who has developed a fear that santa is watching.  stopped in his tracks ... walked quietly up to me and said "i wanna watch mickey mouse."  and then turned around.  and turned around again quietly snuggling into my arms. i wanna go to bed.

is santa here?  he whispered ...
i no want santa to be here.  he pleaded in a barely audible whisper.

poor boy.  scared of santa and not getting toys.  i don't really know where the idea stemmed from ... coughcough sisters coughcough.  but it kinda works.  and i'm banking on it right now.

i lay next to him. watching his chest quietly rise and fall.  he softly pulls strings from his blankie with his teeth as his eyelids become heavy with sleep.  his breath slows.  the restless fidgeting ceases and his body sinks into the pillow.

i kiss his forehead and whisper plead for these moments to last forever.
i know they won't. can't. 
shouldn't.
i'm going to miss this someday, won't i?

just write.  number 59.  over at heather's place ... go here ... you won't regret it.