Don't Talk About Costco

 

Yesterday my amazing friend, Jennifer, biked over for an outside 6 feet socially distanced chat.  She arrived and I realized as we sat down, that I was actually colder than I had anticipated. So what did she do, but produce a handmade hat in my new favorite color (maroon).   As we sat down, I had that sinking feeling I often have of late, feeling like I have not one interesting thing to add to a conversation.  Right now, when I encounter someone outside of my home, I either have so much to say that I can't stop talking, or I am completely blank and have NOTHING to say.  Luckily, Jennifer and I have a superpower, the ability to find entertainment where few may.  The whole time Jennifer was here, I kept finding stories to relay about shopping at Costco.  And every time, I had the thought, "Don't talk about Costco anymore.  Find something else to discuss."  And then a moment later, I found my mouth open and yet another boring Costco anecdote emerging.  Jennifer is a special education teacher, she used to work with children with Autism.  So, my behavior was not as off putting as it might have been with someone without her background and training.  Then this morning, still lamenting my social ineptitude, I texted her asking if she wanted to discuss Costco anymore?  She responded that when she arrived home, her husband inquired if she knew anyone with a Costco membership.  Being the fantastic friend she is, she assured me that it had all been worthwile for her to gain this intel.  How lucky am I to have a friend that sees the value in my boredom right now?

ICGs

 Last year around this time, we went to the movie theater to see Frozen 2.  It seems inconceivable that it was only a year ago, so much is different now.  Zibbi re-watched Frozen 2 this Thanksgiving Break.  During the movie, the character Anna announces, "No one is good with family games, it is a fact."  Thom printed family games he found on the internet for our Thanksgiving Holiday this year.  The first one was presented after the three hour Macy's day "parade" (which Benja declared one long commercial, the females persisted, watching for the Broadway and song content).  The game was incredibly complicated and Zibbi ended up crying and storming from the table, devastated at a perceived "failure".  The second game, 100 Things, occurred after our feast.  Each card contained 6 items that the other players had to guess, if the guessers guessed wrong, the clue provider would go back through and try again.  The guessers are NOT supposed to know it they guessed correctly until the end of the turn.  Zibbi's turn took maybe 20 minutes, so it was a slow start.  Zibbi convinced us that SHE should in fact go first as the "youngest available Kennedy" or "YAK" (as opposed to the "OAK" or "oldest available Kennedy", a term we adapted from The Penderwicks series, our summer read).  By the time it was Benja's turn, I was thinking of my waning energy and the kitchen that still needed to be cleaned.  At one point, we guessed Benja's item, and he responded automatically with, so "93" is your answer?  Without looking at the card with the items and the numbers, letting the rest of us know that we had indeed guessed correctly.  I know this story was incredibly convoluted, I feel as the reader you are really getting a feel for these games through my storytelling (you're welcome).  It reminded me of how last year during Christmas present opening, trying to keep the whole thing moving along (you don't want to lose your crowd), I pointed to a wrapped package and asked Benja to please open his book.  Oops.  Typically being the holiday planner, I want to make clear how much I appreciate Thom taking the lead on the ICGs (Incredibly Complicated Games).  Overwhelmingly, the ICGs were listed as the best part of Thanksgiving this year.  

Riding the Wave

 

Years ago, Life Coach Martha Beck described attending a funeral with someone with Down's Syndrome, and she noticed that this person would feel extreme grief for 90 seconds (I cannot find the actual article, so I am not completely sure this is the exact time).  Martha observed how this person would fully feel the grief and then it would abate.  This description stayed with me and when Ellie died and I would feel that wistfulness of missing her, I would know that if I rode that wave, it would only stay with me for a short time.  Yesterday as I was driving past the high school, I had this sudden pang of wistfulness, wishing desperately that there were teenagers roaming about that high school, rather than all of us at home virtually learning.  As I felt it, I felt myself resisting it.  Then I reminded myself that it would pass.  As I had this thought that I could just feel it, the grief began to release me.  The same thing has happened repeatedly when I drive past the movie theater's empty parking lot (right next to Costco).  I feel a pang of longing, then it recedes, leaving me to ponder the present, and what I will purchase.  This concept has helped me so much over the years because it lets me know that I can feel the grief and it won't take me under.  It makes me feel like the grief, wistfulness, longing blow past me, rather than staying stuck to me.  

The whole process reminds me of contractions during birth.  During childbirth, I imagined myself riding the wave of a contraction, it would go up and then I would ride it back down (with a LOT of loud noises coming out of me, it WAS after all painful, I am not denying that).  I think now that maybe grief is like childbirth, it's messy, it's painful, it can come at unexpected times.  In the end, you emerge from childbirth with a new person (hopefully) and with grief, too maybe, you emerge as a new person.  Perhaps a person who has slowed down a bit to take in and feel gratitude for all the precious moments we are gifted. I think the biggest hope is that from the grief, I am able to emerge in some way a better, wiser, calmer, more appreciative person, rather than letting me it take me down or reduce me to less than I was.  

Good Morning!

Most mornings I wait until everyone is on their 8:30 zoom before I start getting ready myself.  This means I usually have at least half an hour before anyone needs me.  Today, for some reason, perhaps I was running more slowly than usual, but as I was getting into the shower, Zibbi emerged to request spelling assistance.  She was throwing me softballs like, "How do you spell x-ray?"  I was a bit perplexed by the question because she'd just explained she was working on a project about her Christmas plans.  Mysterious.  

Then in the middle of my shower, Lotta rushes in requesting, "What is the word that describes two animals that are very smiliar?"  And I said, "You mean like the same species?"  And she sighed loudly and said, "NO!"  And she asked me again, louder this time.  My mind is a blank, as I was not expecting a mental test during my showering.  Finally, after some tense moments of waiting, Lotta storms out of the bathroom.  When I emerge from my shower, I googled the question.  (Benja hates it when I say, "google search", he says that is redundant.  So of course, I use that as often as possible around HIM.  I won't torture you that way.)  No luck.  When I emerged downstairs fully dressed, I asked Lotta if she'd figured out the word.  She explained that it had come to her when she asked her dad.  The win goes to Thom.  This time.  

Show and Tell

 Last night, Lotta asked me to join her in her room to figure out what to share during Show and Tell the next morning.  I suggested maybe the giraffe she had that belonged to Ellie?  The one that had been given to Ellie right before her surgery by our amazing friend, Esther.  Nope, Lotta thought she'd already shared that.  The more we pondered, the more we realized that there wasn't one special thing that she could share.  Then it hit us, Zibbi.  Just like Benja shared Lotta when he had his very first show and tell in Kindergarten (here's the blog I wrote, if you want a review http://sunnydayswithdebi.blogspot.com/2011/12/what-ben-really-really-loves.html.  It's from December 2011, if the link doesn't work and is entitled, What Ben REALLY Loves).   Lotta could share Zibbi.  So this morning, Lotta made a point of braiding Zibbi's hair, so she was presentable.  And Zibbi left her zoom meeting to join Lotta.  I overheard during Lotta's zoom, someone else had brought their pet Rat to the zoom, while Zibbi ran in and sat on Lotta's lap.  Lotta brought her pet sister, basically.

Echo!

 

When Ellie was alive, we started this tradition where we would yell "echo" when we were in an especially echo-y location (like a garage or a tunnel).  Then saying echo became an echo.  It was quite meta.  One of those intellectual jokes. 

Fast forward to Lotta in 4th grade with a new stern, grumpy gym teacher.  During one of the first classes, she started to explain how the room seemed to echo a great deal and...as she said "echo", Lotta as is our tradition, automatically yelled out "echo".  To which the teacher was much less amused than we would be.  When Lotta explained what had happened, she was quite morose and saddened that she had been publicly reprimanded.  Reluctantly telling us the story, she expected some compassion for her plight.  Nobody around here enjoys "getting into trouble", so we understood her level of upset.  At the same time, we were all highly entertained, understanding the history of why she would automatically respond "echo".  Maybe the lesson learned was that timing is indeed everything.  

Medical Emergency!

 

Last year, when Benja was actually attending in person high school, he left his lunch box at home.  He has an hour for lunch and he is allowed to leave campus, so I assumed he would realize his error, and return home to retrieve his lunch.  You know what they say about assuming. At around 12:40, I suddenly received an urgent text from Benja explaining that he had just given himself insulin, then realized he did not in fact have any food to ingest.  So, I questioned whether he could just race home and grab his food (as I had originally planned for his error.) He said, alas, no his class started at 1, so he would not have time.  So.....I told him he should NOT go to class because continuing on with your life after you've given yourself insulin is not a great look for anyone.  I suggested he NOT go to class but instead go to the nurse's office and explain the situation.  In the meantime, I became the one racing to the school (in my mind this whole scenario had been MUCH more relaxing for me).  I arrived at the security station, because gone are the days where you can just wander through the high school unannounced.  I tried to quickly and succinctly alert the security guard of the growing emergency situation that was occurring within the walls of the school building.  The guard discovered that Benja actually had GYM after lunch.  The worst possible class to have after you've taken insulin and NOT eaten!!  As she announced this to me, I became even more insistent (some might say "frantic", but that in mind is going too far) that this was a growing and urgent medical situation.  Finally, the guard told me, "Mam, my (fill in a relative here) has diabetes, I UNDERSTAND."  Finally, after numerous phone calls and walkie talkie discussions, Benja waltzed into the security station, grabbed his lunch, said, "Thanks mom," and sauntered out.  Really made my entire performance seem unnecessary and overly dramatic.  

I Need to Show You Something

Here is a note I found yesterday, from Benja, to Thom...typically when Benja needs to "show us something", it is an educational video he found to enlighten us on topics where we might be ill informed.  

Dearest Father, I have a desire to show you something at my and your soonest possible convenience. Now, you may be questioning me, wondering to yourself; “Why did this boy, my child no less, decide to use the printer to print this measly piece of paper? And with a bad font and even worse grammar no less.” I assure you, father, you have no need to question my intentions (I mean there are plenty, my intentions often go astray). They are not nefarious in any way. I thought, since you are more often than not on a call, and often on a telephone call when I want to show you something. In order to be as unwasteful as possible I will keep and reuse this for future times. I need to show you something. Finally, I have concluded that it would be beneficial to you and I to have a silent way of communicating that I require showing you something. That is all and farewell, Idk, piece. 

photo credit: JL Photography

Spiders, Spiders, Centipedes

WAAAY back on Halloween, Zibbi spotted a creepy, hairy, monstrous centipede in the bathtub.  Of course she screamed.  You wouldn't expect anything less would you?  I quickly said, "Wow, it's good that we spotted him on Halloween, because he really goes with the theme."  (He was male, I don't know how I knew this but I did.)  Zibbi stopped freaking out and nodded, agreeing that yes, this was a bit of good luck.  I was utterly amazed that this tactic had worked.  It was not however, a total success, as everyone has since switched to showers and the tub remains discarded as an unused commodity (our tub and shower stall are in a loong bathroom and are separate entities, living in an older home, these type of quirks are common).  Basically, the aqua blue tub is now a tomb for insects.   (Did I mention it is aqua? So is the square toilet AND there used to be a landline phone hanging beside the toilet.  I know, there's a lot to be jealous of here)  

Last night, Zibbi and I were peacefully snuggled in bed reading . 

When suddenly she began screaming and running simultaneously.  I was so shocked and completely unaware of what was happening, that my body of its own accord, also began screaming and jumping out of bed.  Zibbi continued to scream as we ascertained what she was saying, "There's a spider!! There's a spider!!"  Thom (who is OF COURSE in charge of insect removal) came into the room to investigate.  Unfortunately/fortunately, the spider was never located, I suspect it had the same reaction I did, to run and scream.  AND I didn't have any holidays to associate this spider with.  It took a LOT of convincing, snuggles from her big sister, and the promise of extra reading time to get her back into bed.   

EWWW!

Years ago, I found myself in Michigan at a Kennedy family reunion.  My young niece, Kate, was sitting next to me at the table eating lunch.  She suddenly looked at some of the lettuce on her plate.  Kate grimaced and said, "EWWW I don't want to eat THAT!"  It just so happened this type of lettuce was a type that I also didn't care for.  So, I wholeheartedly agreed with her assessment that it was not worthy of ingesting.  When her father raced over and said, "MMMmmm yummy, we should eat that."  Because he is a REAL adult, while I in fact, am just playing one.  

Another Spotting

 

I went to close the curtains in the living room the other night.  And who was lurking behind, but a battalion of Barbies AND ensembles.  As if they were planning to stay awhile.  I of course, destroyed their encampment and put them in their bucket.  Nice try, Barbies.    

Groundhog Day-ing

 Yesterday at dinner, Lotta said, "Wow!  This week has flown by!"  And almost everyone agreed wholeheartedly.  Benja abstained, saying, "You do realize it's only Tuesday?"  To which we all gasped.  Then laughed.  The wange (weirdly strange) thing is I am pretty sure we've done this before during this pandemic.  

Coronasomnia

Apparently another side effect of a pandemic is insomnia.  One of my favorite podcasts, Radiolab, had a whole show where people who were awake in the wee hours could call in and talk about what was on their minds (you can listen here, maybe, if I've done this correctly...https://www.wnycstudios.org/podcasts/radiolab/articles/insomnia-line).  I love this, because even when all those worries come out at 3 am, I absolutely know that I am NOT alone.  All those little and not so little worries that I can keep hidden during the day as I bustle around my world, suddenly come out at full volume while I try to sleep.   I know that thinking about gratitude can aid in both falling asleep and staying asleep.  But now as I prepare for my next workshop (on Gratitude), thinking about gratitude only makes me think about the fact that I need to work on my workshop.  So it has backfired on me a bit.  Good news is, I will most likely sleep REALLY well tonight.  

Hello My Little Pet

At the beginning of the pandemic, Lotta would go outside and chat with our chickens when she was upset.  Then, Thom became burned out on caring for chickens and gave them away.  Lotta decided having a pet, like a dog or better yet, a bunny, would be the only way to get over this heartbreak.  Zibbi and Lotta have spent plenty of time spying on the dogs in the neighborhood from our back yard.  When they hear them barking, they race outside, scale half way up the fence, so that they can see over, and say hello.  Lotta has inquired why we have to be THE only family in the history of the world to NOT have a pet.  I assured her this was not the case.  That for example, her best friend did not have a pet.  When, suddenly, against my better judgment, they went and brought home a kitten.  I know, selfish, right? Now, every time Lotta is upset, she is thoroughly convinced she would feel ever so much better if only she had a pet.  (I have tried to explain, to no avail, that even if you HAVE a pet, you still get to feel ALL the feels.  Of course, that argument is way too logical.)  

  

Honestly, I just think our family is more of a baby family, than a pet family.  When we see a baby, we all get extremely excited (Thom, not so much, that's not the way he rolls.  His excitement is more on the inside than the outside.)  Anyway, the other day, Zibbi asked me when I was planning on becoming a Grandma.  I paused, a bit shocked by the question (although I knew it came from her classmates informing me their Grandmas were my age.)  I responded, "I think that's actually up to YOU, not me."  

The Light Could Shine

We were eating breakfast with my mom, when I grabbed my phone.  My friend from Cypress, Sezgi, who had been following the race as close, if not closer than I was, announced that Biden had won.  It's true.  I learned Biden won from Cypress.  All day long, cars driving down East Washington would erupt into honking (happy honking, not angry honking).  Around our capital, people came to yell and shout and celebrate.  A neighbor told me it was the same on Williamson Street (where many favored restaurants and Willy Street Co-op reside).  Then, as I read to Zibbi in bed, a blue firework exploded right outside her window.  Here's what my friend Windy sent me this morning, from the Washington Post, 

"Biden's election allowed this country to laugh, to dance and breathe.  He cracked open a space where the light could shine through.  Indeed, his victory caused people to weep in joyful relief as they became aware of the heaviness that had afflicted their

hearts, after they'd suddenly been relieved of it."  

We still have much to do to create the country we desire.  These four years has uncovered the continual injustices that many citizens face.  Now with a new leader, it's not only the hope that maybe we can do something, anything to stop the spread of this deadly virus.  It's not only hoping we can eradicate at least some of the racism and misogyny that has been celebrated.  It is that we CAME together.  

Still No Word

 

STILL awaiting the election results.  Now in a time when every day seems like weeks, it is agonizing...

This morning, Zibbi asked me to go for a walk.  The last week we have had highs in the 60s and 70s, an unexpected gift.  And nobody has wanted to go outside.  Benja even had 3 days he didn't shower or change clothes.  We weren't sure at what point we should call "The Sad Teen Hotline" (as seen on Star vs The Forces of Evil on Disney+).  He informed us 5 days was the cut off.   Zibbi, in particular, is super content to stay at home.  Which, has been a great quality to have during a pandemic.  But then suddenly I will realize it has been days, possibly weeks since she has left the house.  So, there was no possible way I could say "no" to her request for outside time.  We set off for a walk to the river.  Afterwards, we decided to walk the abandoned railroad tracks on the way home.  As we were walking, Zibbi created a game where leaves were acid and rocks were lava, so we had to be extremely careful NOT to get

burned.  Then we saw a used mask, and I asked if that had Covid, if we were also trying to escape the current pandemic in the game.  Zibbi paused to consider.  She then replied in the affirmative, that yes, we were also trying to escape Covid.  The twist was, we would GET Covid if we put on the mask when there wasn't another person around.  Hmmm.  That sounds vaguely familiar.   We came to the end of the tracks, and Zibbi tried to leap to the end and fell instead.  It seems so unjust when a child is having fun playing and they suddenly fall hard on the concrete and in this case metal of the tracks.  At first, I thought, maybe she was going to be ok, then she began to wail.  Luckily, we only had a block left to arrive home, and we talked about eating a popsicle, which distracted her from the pain.  By the time we arrived on our block, she sprinted home, the fall all but forgotten.  This may be an incredibly boring story.  I can't tell anymore.    

Let Go or Be Dragged

While we are awaiting the election results, here is a story I may or may not have shared before.  I searched previous years' blogs and found myself in a world of hospitals and memory loss and a funny 4-year-old Benja...I couldn't unearth this story, so apologies if this is a repeat.  

When I was a teenager, I loved to water ski.  The problem was, I learned how to get up on the water skis, after many many many failed attempts, but I never really got the hang of stopping  Basically, I would just keep on skiing until I crashed.  Imagine me falling, but still holding tight to the ski rope, being dragged until the driver noticed my delimma.  It was when I discovered that water can actually feel like it burns or cuts, it can leave a mark.  Powerful stuff.  Fast forward to adulthood.  Thom's parents used to have a Lake of the Ozarks house.  Before they sold it, they invited us for one last visit.  At one point, water skiing was occurring.  I thought, even though it had been decades, it was probably like riding a bike, your body remembers how to do it.  So, up I went water skiing.  Luckily, it WAS like riding a bike, and I had a good time proving myself to Josh, Sam, and Kate, my nephews and niece.  As I began to tire, I realized I could just drop the rope and sink (in my mind at least, gracefully into the water.)  It was a revelation.  I did not actually have to injure myself to stop the activity.  So empowering.  Recently, I found a magnet that says, "Let Go or Be Dragged" which so perfectly reminded me of that important lesson that I have hung it on the fridge.  When Zibbi sees it, she requests I retell this story.

On the same trip, the water in the lake was warm, like bath water warm, as it had been a hot summer.  There was a rope to swing off of and drop into the lake.  After, witnessing Josh, Sam and Kate doing this, I decided I needed to give it a go.  Unfortunately, as I flew over the water, my hands refused to let go of the rope and ended up back on the dock.  So, I guess the let go or be dragged lesson was provisional...

Also, on that trip, we decided to swim out to a buoy.  Josh and Sam immediately took the lead.  Kate and I lagging a bit behind.    Suddenly a HUGE catfish appeared on the water's surface. (It would be useful here to mention that lakes in Missouri are mud bottomed, so you can not see any fish below water.)  Seriously, this catfish was bigger than my toddler at the time.  Kate, wisely, exclaimed, "Think of chocolate chip cookies..."  How does she know me so well?  Somehow, even with the humongous fish spotting we made it to the buoy and back again.  I was pretty sure we'd had a good 2-3 mile swim.  My father-in-law informed me it was probably 1/4 of a mile.  The real point is we survived that catfish.  Just barely.

Piece of Hope

 As predicted, we don't know the election results yet.  We are waiting for all the ballots to be counted.  It is anxiety producing.  When my siblings and mom texted this morning saying how despondent they felt with all the states that had cast their vote with Trump, this is was came to me...

Here is the piece of hope I am holding onto...these men will die out sometime in the near future.  I know I know this is morbid and I shouldn't say it out loud.  That leaves me looking to the younger generation and I am VERY impressed with their knowledge and activism.  This is the last harrah for wanting to go back in time and embrace women having no rights, marriage meaning only between a man and woman, and blatant racism ruling the land.  Trump has spewed racist rhetoric which incited violence, simultaneously, he has incited ACTIVISM like we have never seen before in the history of the world (in Trump jargon).  Hope was Obama's slogan.  Let's not let him down by falling into despair.  

I think now is the time we have to pick one another up when we fall.  

Thoughts on Election Day 2020

 Today is Election Day.  The day we have been waiting anxiously for as we have watched our current president undermine and dismantle our sense of security, our relationships around the world, committing heinous acts again and again in the name of all of us.  I recall how 4 years ago, when I went to the polls, I was struck by the palpable excitement in the air.  At that time, we thought we were going to elect our first female president.  Alas, as the night wore on, it became clear that no, instead we elected our worst citizen.  One who would incite violence in others, encourage police to utilize force, accidentally admit to assaulting women, utilize his position to make money for his own business interests.  Then, during a pandemic he knew was deadly, he not only discouraged taking any action to stop the spread, but actively opposed doing things like not meeting in large groups and wearing masks.  The White House has essentially said they have given up on trying to curb the spread.  They instead will wait for a vaccine.  The president keeps saying that we are "rounding the corner" on this thing when now we are up to 100,000 cases with 1,000 deaths a DAY right now.  With all of that happening, Trump is saying he may not accept the election results.  Asking his supporters to arrive at polling places to intimidate voters.  The anxiety and disbelief that we find ourselves in this situation is confuzzling.  We thought we had safety precautions in place to prevent this kind of leadership from overtaking.  We may not know for several more days or even weeks the results of this election.  We can hope that it will be in a direction that will benefit the people of America.  Now when I hear other countries in conflict, I wonder about the PEOPLE there, I ponder if they too are just wanting desperately to feel safe, to be able to raise their children in a country they feel proud of.  So I guess in a way I feel more empathy and understanding that what a country does does NOT in fact reflect what its citizens may want.  It only reflects what the most powerful want.  It also feels mind blowing that this never even occurred to me before.  What a very different perspective we are gaining from this horrifying experience.  

Angel Status Revoked

When I was maybe Lotta's age, (10) we were getting ready for bed.  A very smelly loud toot escaped from me.  I am not typically a super gaseous person, so when it happens, even I am sort of surprised.  My stepdad at the time, said, "Oh, I guess you are not an angel, like we thought."  I was devastated, thinking I had somehow lost a coveted position.  

 When Ellie was undergoing chemotherapy, she would have the smelliest loudest gaseous emissions.  And she would completely claim them.  I imagined when she went to school, that there was probably an actual visible cloud that followed her around.  And when something did erupt from her body, she proudly claimed, "That was me!"  Just in case there was any confusion from where the sound/smell came.  No shame.  Just owned it.   

Now Lotta proudly carries on her sister's tradition as she loudly lays her bombs around the house.  On people. On beds.  At dinner.  They are loud.  They are smelly.  And Zibbi has the loudest burp

ever heard from such a small body.  They happen so often, she thinks saying "Excuse me", is too cumbersome to endure.  I think we have broken the shame cycle of females having bodily functions.  Which basically means we have to light a lot more candles.  

Halloween 2020 Style

 

Halloween in Madison is a very big deal.  Our yearly traditions include, a big BCCN (Badger Childhood Cancer Network) party, a Downtown Trick or Treat event, a neighborhood costume parade, and that's not even including the MAIN event, trick or treating.  Halloween this year did not include any of those activities.  What I adore about trick or treating is the community feel it engenders, chatting up neighbors and seeing classmates all dressed up.  And some people go ALL out, decorating their homes and wearing costumes, really creating a mood. I figured with the current raging pandemic, the usual vibe would be ruined. 

The Switch Witch is a concept introduced to me by my friend Jennifer.  Her son was allergic to just about everything, including corn (which is in pretty much every candy product).  She had her boys write to the Switch Witch detailing which toy they would like on Halloween night after trick or treating.  Then, the morning after Halloween the Switch Witch would have traded all the candy for a toy.  This year, Zibbi was really concerned about how she would be compensated with a toy if she did not have candy for the Switch Witch.  She has hypothesized that the Switch Witch magically turns the candy into a toy.  Last year, Zibbi began to cry when she dropped her bucketful of candy in the middle of the street, she was so worried her Switch Witch payment was destroyed.  All that work.  Luckily, all the adults formed a human chain to make sure no automobiles ran over the candy or people collecting the fallen candy.  This year, the Switch Witch wrote a note explaining that everything is different this year and thus she hid candy and already gave out toys, but NEXT year she would expect her compensation.  

After waking up to such a surprising start to Halloween, where nothing much happens typically until night fall, Zibbi declared this, "The BEST Halloween ever".  She doubled down on the assessment when she received a boo bag (filled with candy) from Lotta's best friend AND from our neighbor.  Her mind almost exploded when she realized that she would get a toy AND get to keep the candy.  I will take that as a win.