ELECTION DAY

It's finally here, which means that the annoying commercials and signs will soon be but a distant memory. Scot and I voted early by mail in ballot (which means I voted from the comfort of my own home: no lines, no chasing kids through local elementary schools - nothin'). This has been a particularly lengthy couple of years full of negativity, drama, over zealous campaigners - pretty much everything that I hate about politics. I will be anxiously following the Prop 8 proposal in Cali - I know it's a BIG deal there & has been a nightmare for those who have been pushing for the YES vote (my sister Camille, for one, has had her fair share of stress from having a sign in her yard). Hang in there Camille, it will be over soon.

We went to Target to return a couple things (I know, it seems like we're always at Target...unfortunately, it's somewhat true). I pushed the cart towards the back of the store to see the new holiday stuff and as we entered the Christmas section, Ethan blurted out "I LOVE Christmas!" Should be a very fun holiday season for all of us, and I know that Brynn will join Ethan in his love of Christmas lights.

Ethan patiently sat waiting for me to figure out what I was getting (and even offered his opinion, which I gladly took), and then asked if he could get out of the cart and walk. After he ran ahead of me a few times, I told him that he needed to come back and stay close to the cart. That's when the wheels started turning in that creative brain of his and he ran back and jumped on the side of the cart - like a fireman. The rest of our Target experience, he rode on the side of my cart making "Weeooooweeeoooo" siren sounds, saying "this is my firetruck" to all who looked in his direction. Everyone we passed seemed amused. ( :

After dinner tonight, Ethan said "Can we go at Grandma's house?" We called, invited ourselves over (kind of) and upon our arrival, Ethan wasted no time getting right to work with their tools. He must've worked up a thirst because soon he was asking for water, and shortly thereafter he came to me and said, "Is it okay if I have to have some rootbeer mom?" HAVE TO HAVE huh? I suppose if you're being forced to drink rootbeer, it's okay. Silly boy.

Before we left, Grandma played Ethan an array of songs on the piano (which he always loves). He watched, completely mesmerized - made a couple song requests, & then ask Grandpa if he would open the top of the grand piano so he could watch the inner workings. We need to get Ethan into some music classes. I've added it to my to do list.