RIP, Elmo.

I was excited for Halloween this year.  Traditionally it's always a pretty big holiday for us, since it's also my mom's birthday, and this would be the first year I felt Bug was old enough to actually participate and Trick or Treat.

It started off pretty fun.  We had trick or treating with our friends from Strides.

Someone had the great idea to hand out BUBBLES OMG BUBBLES

Could you just die?  I'm dying of cuteness.

We agreed to be whacked in the face with a marshmallow, but adamantly refused to open our mouths to try and take it off the string.

What the hell is that thing?  And you want me to eat it?

When someone else tried, though, we offered moral support and suggestions from the sidelines.

You got this, Dinosaur.

I was excited for the trick or treating.  We ended up going to a large party at a friend of a friend's house just a few miles from us.  When we arrived and saw everyone (read: adults) in thoughtfully-planned and wonderfully-executed costumes, many of which coordinated amongst all members of the family, and then looked at our own trio, which consisted of a child in an Elmo costume, a Dad in an orange shirt (hey, it counts), and a Mom in cat ears, our "friend of a friend" status seemed to stand out even more.

The hosts were incredibly kind and gracious.  There was food, everywhere.  And huge bowls of candy corn and salted peanuts that I swiped from every time I walked by.  Bug seemed overly nervous and clingy, and complained often about not being able to see (we aren't usually outside late dusk/evening time, and it makes everything even lower contrast for her).

Finally at 6:30 it was time to gather the troops to start trick or treating.  There were at least fifteen kids in the group, and most took off running.  Bug didn't want to walk all of a sudden and asked to be carried.  I agreed mostly because we were already behind the crowd.

We got to the first house and I peeled her off of me to go to the door for candy.  She did her shpiel, and asked to be carried again.  The second house had Tootsie Pops.  Bug had hit her home run.  Ever since she tried her first sucker this past weekend, she has talked about them nonstop.  She didn't want to put it in her bucket.  I told her we could eat it later, and that we needed to keep going so we could get more!  More candy!  C'mon, you don't have any Skittles yet, and I NEED SOME SKITTLES.

Tootsie Pops!  Jackpot!

To her, obviously, she had managed to get the one piece of candy she was searching for, and didn't understand why we needed to keep going.

I picked her up and we started toward the next house.  All of a sudden she let out this giant burp and then started semi-projectile vomiting all over both of us.  It was disgusting.  And there was so much.  Like we covered the whole goddamn sidewalk from yard to curb.  I didn't know what to do.  What do you do?  Why does barf always make me lose all common sense?  Then she puked a second time.  I had gathered enough sense, it seemed, to turn her toward the grass, although it still got all over my feet.  Then a third time happened.  OMG.

Of course, immediately, parents around us froze, stared, and started tsk tsking about how she must have had "too much candy."  I wanted to yell, The kid hasn't even had any candy tonight!  I HAVEN'T EVEN HAD ANY CANDY TONIGHT, DAMMIT.  (OK, so maybe I did have candy corn before, but that totally doesn't count).  And now, with the smell of rancid dairy products (pretty much all she ate that day) emanating from every inch of my torso (and shoes), I had lost the will for Skittles.  The party hosts just sort of stared at us.  I could imagine them thinking, "Who the hell invited these guys again?"

She was crying, of course.  (Rare is the girl who can vomit without also crying afterward?)  We got her calmed down, and she wanted to keep going.  "My tummy feel all better now, Mommy!"  Elmo was damaged.  I was even worse.  It was decided that I would go back to the car, change, and retrieve the car we brought along for Emergency Elmo Transport.

Even after changing my shirt I still stank.  I can smell it now, even, 24 hours later.  She rallied, though.  We managed to hit up a few more blocks of houses before we were done.  I hated it when we visited the houses that wanted to get all up close and cute with the kids, because I knew how much Elmo stank.  I winced every time they leaned down.

We got home, threw Elmo in the outside trash, and got ourselves all cleaned up.  Then an hour after we had put her down, there was crying.  She had thrown up again.  Awesome!  Strip the bed, wipe down, new sheets, rocking chair snuggle, back to bed.  An hour.  Crying, again.  More puke!  Repeat.

Luckily it was only those two times.  This morning there was a medium fever, so I had to forgo Strides class (saaaaaaaadddd mama).  But it was OK!  MIMI CAME TODAY!!!!

What, your kid doesn't carry around an *actual* telephone with them when they leave the house?  We have no tolerance for missed calls.  

Beau-Beau is mine, too.

Reunited!  We offered them a private room, but they declined.  

Bug rallied.  We had fun.  As long as no more barfs tonight, I think we're in the clear.  I ate a lot of Snickers today to make up for last night.  Whew.