"Hey, Mom!  You wanna hear a concert?"  
    These words under any other circumstances, would make a mother's heart proud.  The thought of their child playing a musical instrument would and should bring joy to their soul. 
    That's unless...their child is learning how to play the trumpet.  
     I wrote a little while back about the horrific, ahem, the beautiful sounds that have emanated through the walls of our home (and neighborhood) as our fifth grade son has so eagerly picked up the joy of music from his school band.  It's been nothing short of heaven sent.
     Tonight though, a miracle happened.  Christian put some sheets of paper in front of him and took his proper stance.  As I prepared myself for the bellows of the suffering cow that I've become all too accustomed to hearing, you can imagine my surprise when actual notes filled the air instead.  Not only notes...but dare I say it...music.  
     It was the song, "Jingle Bells".  I knew the song not by asking what it was, which is what I usually have to do, but from simply listening to the sound.  For the love of brass, it was less than painful to hear.
     With my jaw dropped and the turn of a page, the next song that he played was, well, let's face it, it was a train wreck.  But at least he has one song down.
     The school band has a Christmas concert next month and I'm actually reconsidering the supply of earplugs I had looked into ordering.
      Now I'm looking forward to hearing what melodies the band director will create.  If he can get our baby to play that out of what he used to sound like, I'm officially a believer that Christmas dreams really can come true.

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    Our second son, Ethan...has never liked girls.  I mean, at all.  Girls have always been "gross" to him and he's wanted nothing more than to spend time with his buddies and play sports or goof off.
    Then something changed.  A new girl happened to move in from another state.  Out of nowhere, Ethan came home from school all dreamy eyed and walking smack into walls.  He smiled non-stop and began talking about her like she hung the moon.
    When we actually met this little girl, we knew in a heartbeat why he fell so hard.  She is the cutest thing on Earth and the kindest and sweetest girl as well.
    What's even more adorable, is how they barely make eye contact with each other when they're in the same room.  I can't help but giggle when I see him kick his shoes or look a different way.  
    Ethan had his last football game of the year on Saturday and guess who came to visit?  Yep.  Sure enough, it was the best game he's had.  He ran harder and played with all of his might.                                                     
    When the game was over, they smiled at each other and hardly said a word.  It was adorably sweet and a moment I'll never forget.
    In the car on the way home, Ethan was quiet but had a smile from ear to ear.  When we asked how he felt, he simply said, "Good."
    A few seconds later, he continued, "Mom...Dad?  This was the best day of my life."
    That it was, Buddy.  That it was.

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    It was a Monster Bash as Frank and I took the little ones out for Trick or Treating. 

    Dracula, the Wolfman, our little Witch and Mummy (who could've doubled as the Invisible Man, had a frightfully good time.  

    Our Ghoulishly good friends, Julie and Bob had their annual Halloween party where every little ghost and goblin had fun...

            The time had come to Trick or Treat...

          ...and go through spooky haunted houses.

   We went home and passed other monsters to wave good night.

   For wickedly sweet dreams to come tonight.  Happy Halloween!!!
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