A Pirate and a Winter Princess

 Yesterday was smooth as silk, today, not so much.  My intention to have Halloween be fun and memorable for the girls curdled into me forcing Marguerite to put on her costume before the parade, dictating to Genevieve which dress looked more pirate-like, threatening no trick-or-treating tonight if the bowl of cucumbers wasn't consumed stat.  My devil horns were hardly a costume.

At least mother nature was feeling less bitchy than me and paused her deluge for the parade through town:

I was surprised when I saw this photo of me on facebook posted by my friend Anna.  I look so happy and relaxed, the sweep for a gaggle of littles, like getting to this place in our day hadn't shredded my composure:

A good reminder to me.  If it isn't how I planned it or pictured it, it doesn't mean that it isn't just as it should be.

Later, as I walked through the dark and soggy streets of Edison, a rain soaked trick-or-treater holding on to each hand, Genevieve said, "Mama, we can do this for as long you want.  All night even.  I won't get tired of walking, looking at all of the pumpkins and decorations, finding every door bell in Edison, getting candy."  "Yeah Mama, Halloween fun" chimed in Marguerite.