Halloween Horror

It is that time of year again. I remember looking forward to Halloween when I was a child. It was so much fun. The costumes, the candy, and the general loosening of the rules were just the best. It was the one time of the year when it is entirely appropriate to knock on a stranger's door and demand free stuff. Who doesn't love that?

I will tell you who. Grownups. Halloween is just another holiday that is destined to end in exhaustion, my pocketbook being empty, and the large potential of me yelling at some asshole teenager that doesn't have the common sense to realize that he is just too old to be trick or treating and if he rushes ahead of my kid for the candy bowl ONE MORE DAMN TIME I WILL NOT HESITATE TO CUT A BITCH. There is also the high possibility that my episode of nearly psychotic rage will send me straight to my wine fridge to "calm my nerves". 

When did Halloween stop being fun and start being a burden? I like to blame parenthood. (I don't blame my kids. I blame parenthood. There's a difference.) I remember a party that my newly wedded husband and I threw for Halloween. It was a blast. Everyone came in costume. We collected keys at the door because people were going to get trashed. (We were young, and most importantly not parents.) The old guy next door threatened to call in a noise complaint. Good times were had. 

Fast forward ten years and I find myself looking at one of my favorite holidays with dread. These days you can't throw a sheet over your kid and say he is a ghost. Toilet paper mummies are a thing of the past. Now it is about who has the best costume. Who spent the most. Was your costume hand made? Did blind nuns make the lace for your daughter's Elsa costume? Does your yard look like a movie set from a horror flick? No. Well, maybe next year you will do better.  (Did you see the Johnson's yard this year? It is like they didn't even TRY.) 

Halloween has become a contest of the super moms. Last year I was up at midnight the night before Halloween trying to finish up costumes (Because yes I am the mom the makes all my kids' costume, but it is mostly because I can make them better for less than the bullshit ones at the store. I'm crafty but I am also cheap as hell.) and trying to make themed snacks and party favors for Charlotte's kindergarten class's party. (Because OF COURSE I WAS THE STUPID ROOM MOTHER TOO.) By the time we were ready to go trick or treating I was exhausted and absolutely did not want to walk around in the dark. Seriously, the thought of pilfering peanut butter cups didn't even brighten my time. (That's when you know things are just bad.) 

This year I am taking a different approach to Halloween. Yes, we decorated the yard. BUT we decorated it as a family because we enjoy it. We did not wait to see what the neighbors put up so we could rush out and get better decorations. What is up, is up. I am not putting anymore effort into that. (Until I have to take it down....even then meh.) Yes, I am making my kids costumes. BUT I am making them because it is something special that I do for my kids every year. Am I going to freak out if the costume isn't exactly like what the character wore in the movie? No. This isn't comic con. My girls aren't going to care if the costume was perfect. They are going to care that their mom made it for them and that they got a shitload of candy. 

I have decided to stop making Halloween into a contest with everyone around me. This year I just want to have some fun with my kids. (And steal some peanut butter cups.) This year I am rising above. When I get that inevitable snarky comment from another parent, I am just going to smile and move on. (And be stabbing them in my mind.) 

But... that damn teenager better watch it. Some things you just can't rise above. (Better make a trip to the liquor store.) 

High Heels and Glitter.

I worry a little bit about that title. It may attract the wrong sort of "surfers" to my blog. Oh well, I'm going with what works the best. Last Saturday our family was able to attend my brother's wedding reception. We were more than happy to travel and celebrate with them. It was a beautiful reception. (Plus, it was open bar. Hehehehe.)

All of the women in our household needed new dresses for the party. Adelyn, our oldest daughter, needed new shoes as well. She decided that she was old enough for her first pair of high heels. While I was supportive, I did try to talk her out of them. (Her father was VERY unsure about the idea. That's his BABY.) I love high heels. I admit it. I have a weakness for a pretty pair of shoes. Adelyn (much like her mother) would not be swayed from the shoes. She is only seven. I guess we start the shoe fetish young around here.

At the party, we stood for pictures and to talk to friends and family that we hadn't seen in a while. The kids ran and played with their cousins while they waited (IMPATIENTLY) for the music to start and for the cake to be cut. It wasn't long before Addy came up to me complaining that her feet hurt. I got to say one of the favorite phrases of parenthood. "I told you so." Or as I usually phrase it: "I tried to tell you." Sometimes I am so much like my mother it scares me. Sometimes Addy is so much like me it terrifies me. (Karma, thou art a heartless bitch.) Luckily for my obstinate little one, I had stuffed an extra pair of socks into my purse before leaving for the party. I had a feeling that she would need them. (Sometimes I'm so awesome, I am surprised that I don't glow.)

After dinner, the tables and chairs were moved off the dance floor. Charlotte came running up to me. "Mom, they're gonna start the music! And then Phil and Flip are gonna dance!" She giggled and then ran away. Once the music had started, there were more little girls on the dance floor than adults. They jumped, spun circles, and shook their tail feathers. I think I even saw one doing the "Dougie". I couldn't help watching them and wondering how they could jump up and down like that without having to pee. If that had been me, I would have needed to pee.

The girls danced the night away. Adelyn would periodically put her heels back on, but they never stayed on for too long. She is getting so grown up. It is hard to imagine that she is seven already. This will be our seventh Christmas with her. Before too long she will be leaving for college and to start her own family. Eventually my brother's children will dance at Adelyn's wedding. It is easy to forget how quickly time can slip by and how temporary our time with our loved ones really is. Our children can't stay children forever nor would we want them to. All parents wish for the bittersweet time when our children spread their wings and experience life. We don't wish for it because we want them to leave. We want our kids to have the enjoyment (and frustration) of having their own families and making their own memories. We want the joys of discovering life again with a new generation. For now, my girls can take their time growing up.