Yes, you read that right: we’re posting 18-month-old pictures. A splendid time is guaranteed for all. Highlights include: one measly shot of Joe at his school egg hunt; pictures of Julia and her friends at her class party (careful observers will note that she was then in the same class that Joe is in now); shots of Easter morning at home; and, finally, photos from a party at Julia’s friend Molly’s house.

Coming soon: a first glimpse of Joe’s birth!

In an heretofore unseen display of efficiency, we’re posting pictures from an event—in this case, Halloween—within twenty-four hours of the event itself. How’s that for timeliness? Of course, we’re conveniently ignoring the fact that we’ve got a full year’s worth of stuff to edit and post, but let’s not let that minor consideration take away from this accomplishment.

The day was hectic from the start. Julia had a soccer game at noon, and for once, she was really into the game. I keep hearing, from Julie and others, that she does great at practice, chasing the ball and getting into the mix. At games, however, it’s been another story: she’s been distracted and reserved, as if she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do.

The distraction thing seems to come with the age. All it takes is a barking dog, a passing ice cream truck, a police officer or a particularly interesting cloud, and Julia (along with several other kids on the team) will lose all interest in what’s happening on the field.

Her hesitancy to jump wholeheartedly into the game is another matter, though. We know she likes the physical act of playing soccer, so that’s not it. I think the issue may be that she doesn’t know exactly what she’s supposed to do in game situations, and she’s worried about doing the wrong thing. In practice, she has her coaches right there explaining what’s happening in a given routine or drill, but the games are chaotic and confusing by comparison. On some level, I think she just freezes up a bit when confronted with a situation in which she doesn’t know precisely what her role is.

In fact, it’s my theory that this is why she used to sometimes have problems being dropped off at preschool. She seemed to do a lot better when we got there during structured classroom activities than when the kids were doing free play outside. On the other hand, Julie’s theory is that Julia only acted that way because she knew could get away with it with me. I like my theory better.

In any event, Julia played well yesterday, chasing the ball up and down the field and generally getting involved. Her favorite part of the game is being goalie, which is a little mind-boggling to me, but at this age the kids aren’t kicking hard enough that losing teeth and limbs is a particular concern. All the kids seem to want to tend goal; I think the fact that the goalie can use his hands and the other players can’t just makes them feel special.

After the game, we headed out to the pumpkin patch to pick out a pumpkin. We’ve been to the same place a number of times over the years, because it has a little train for the kids to ride. Joe, as you probably know, loves trains. The setup also includes a mock geyser that forcefully sprays cool mist at intervals as the train makes its way around the track. As it turns out, Joe does not love geysers, at least not fake ones that loudly “blast,” to use his phrasing, as he is trying to enjoy a peaceful train ride.

As we left, he confided that he didn’t ever want to go back to that particular pumpkin patch, because, he said, “The geyser keeps blasting.” And when we arrived home a good twenty minutes later, he commented with relief, “I can’t hear the geyser anymore.”

After lunch and a nap, we finally got started on carving the pumpkin, as you can see in the pictures. Naturally, the kids had picked one with no ideal place to put a face and that wouldn’t stand upright without being braced, but it turned out nicely in the end.

Finally, at about 6:30, we headed out to trick-or-treat. Julie wasn’t feeling well, so I had the privilege of taking the kids around the neighborhood while Julie stayed home to hand out candy. This was a first for me, so it was a bit of a treat. People kept telling Joe that he was a cute dragon, which only seemed fair considering that’s what the costume packaging actually said, but Julia sternly corrected them each time: “No, he’s a pterodactyl. See, he has wings.”

Joe held up well: he made it up and down our street and down a side street and back, but at that point, he was pretty much done. Julia was still going strong, so Julie took her out for a trip around the other side of the block. I can only imagine that this was a preview of future Halloweens, with marathon, three-hour trick-or-treating sessions and heated arguments about how far afield she’s allowed to wander. By the end of the evening, they had amassed an impressive quantity of candy, the vast majority of which I’ll probably end up eating myself over the next couple weeks.

At 9:45—quite possibly the latest we’ve ever intentionally kept the kids up—everyone was tucked in and ready for bed. Julia was asleep within a couple minutes, but Joe fiddled around for a good long while, as usual. After maybe a quarter hour or so of lying there in the dark, he clambered out of bed, walked over to the rocking chair where I was sitting, and whispered, “Daddy, I’m afraid of the geyser.”

Update, 7/10/2011: Joe is still afraid of the geyser. We haven’t been back to that pumpkin patch since.