If you are a "regular reader"- (both of you), you may have been wondering where did she go? What's with the hiatus? Well, the day before school started I was sitting in a "teach kids to write" Proffesional Development and a hater from another school said, "I hate it when people have blogs, but they don't have a theme." I decided then and there that my blog is annoying others because I have no theme, so I must stop. It was much like the time a facebook friend said, "I can't stand when people post cat photos." I posted facbook cat photos each day until Mr. Husband would let me have a cat, so I stopped posting cat photos. Then I unfriended her, and now glare at her with my cat-eyes during church. Now I'm taking the advice of a brilliant friend, Stephanie Schuster, "You are not the jerk whisperer, Don't listen to 'em." So I'M BACK!!
Yesterday was Halloween. I used to like Halloween. From Kindergarten through Second grade, I got to trick-or-treat. When I turned nine, the "Poisoned Laced Tylonal" killed some people and my mom was certain all of our neighbors- living in the middle of no where- were lacing their candy with poison and putting razor blades in the candied apples. Which is weird on three levels. 1)We knew our neighbors well, 50% of them were my dad's brothers, and the rest had "card parties" and celebrated all of their children's milestones together. I don't think they'd try to kill me. They'd get caught. 2) If you were crazy and wanted to put razors in the candy, you would probably be living out in the middle of no where. 3) I really think the REAL reason I couldn't go trick-or-treating past second grade is because none of my siblings lived at home anymore and couldn't take me. Walking a mile and a half- one way- for a candy bar is just not realistic. Therefore, a bit of bitterness toward Halloween started at the ripe old age of the third grade. All of my "town" friends had many years of candy ahead of them, but not me. My mom tried to smooth over my feelings by letting me pick out my "own bag" of candy at the store. It wasn't the same. It wasn't dressing up like a princess, going to the neighbor's/aunts and uncles and being told you are "so cute", and getting a candy bag full of surprises. It might be dumb candy, like a handful of circus peanuts, but it was still a surprise. You can't sit on the living room floor and sort your "own bag of candy". It's all the same. There is nothing to sort. From then on, I've hated Halloween. it could be my intense fear of clowns, mascots, mimes, and well anything in a mask. I don't like not being able to see the person's expression, Then the year came when Noah was one and a half. We took him to both grandparent's houses, a great aunts, and the next door neighbors. It was a blast. Fast forward to the year Ethan was three. He didn't know what to expect, and he was typically a little shy, but on that night he FLEW from house to house while combining two of his top five favorite things- dressing up like Spider-man and candy. I liked Halloween until about two years ago because I was experiencing it through their eyes. Now I'm back to hiding from the scary people with masks. Couple that with teaching children on Halloween, it makes for a less-than-festive holiday. During the eleven years of liking Halloween, I had the pleasure of teaching Kindergarten and the excitement of Halloween through their innocent eyes. I want it to be as much fun with the third graders, but it just isn't. In third grade, it's more about getting as much candy as possible and eating as much as possible in one sitting. It doesn't seem magical like it is in Kindergarten,it's just... not. Maybe that's the REAL reason my mom cut off Halloween in third grade.
If you know me well, you know I make it my life mission, and spend 73% of my energy trying to keep my children from growing up too fast. I, unlike my mom, have not cut off Halloween. Noah tried cutting himself off two years ago, but caved and went this year. Secretly I think, "Are you kidding? You are taller than me. You have no business dressing up for Halloween." Well, I had nothing to worry about with him dressing up, because he went as a Basketball Player. So he dressed like it was a random Tuesday. I opened my mouth to tell him that's not appropriate anymore, but as I looked at him to say it, I didn't see my ninth- grader stressing out while writing the perfect essay about the Bubonic Plague and the Political Effect on the World, but I saw my little boy dressed like a lion saying "Tricker-Treat. Smell My Peet", and I just couldn't tell him no. Maybe a bit of him wants to hold onto his childhood as much as I do.