A Twisted, Beautiful Day

I love Saturdays.

But today was weird.

I completely intended to sleep in until at least 7:30 – a nice reprieve from my normal 5:30 alarm. So, when I woke up at 4AM with a splitting headache, I was a tiny bit frustrated. It's normal for me to have a headache, so I follow a strict routine in attempt to cure. I start with a prescription dose of ibuprofen and put together an ice pack for my head. After securing and balancing a Ziploc ice bag on my head, I fell back asleep. When I awoke a few hours later, the ice had melted. So I picked up the bag, carelessly. Then, as it began to split wide open, I literally froze, feeling helpless as the broken bag waterboarded me. There's nothing quite like having a cup of icy cold water pour all over your face. Apparently, I had used a plethora of ice. After waking Doug up with a bloodcurling scream, there was nothing I could do. Except laugh with my hubby. It was kind of funny.

Then, minutes later, after changing out of my soaked t-shirt, I found my son standing at our bedroom door.

"Mom?" he said as I wondered if he was sick. (It was still quite early, mind you.)

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"Yeah," he said. "But Percy puked all over the floor."

Percy didn't just puke all over the floor. He spewed like a volcano, all over the shag carpet. His particular brand of lava was chuckage of cheesy chicken and corn which really bonded nicely with the carpet fabric. All before 7:30.

But it was still Saturday!

Halloween finds. Great price. Great look.

After all was cleaned up, Cole and I decided to make a quick trip to Wal-Mart. Nothing perks me up like a shopping trip of any kind whatsoever. And we needed to pick up important Halloween supplies. We had pretty good luck! Upon checkout, the cashier asked me if I had good eyes. I wasn't sure where she was going with this, and I hesitated to respond. She asked me again. This time a little impatient. So I said, "I think so." (My eyesight isn't that great, but I panicked.) She asked me to read a UPC number on the Batman shirt I was buying because the tag had been cut off. Well, I failed. Twice. The font size was like "1"! And I'm 50 years-old for goodness sake. I sent Cole back for another shirt with a tag as the line behind us began to grow. Cole zipped back for the all important Batman shirt, so I bonded with the cashier and the guy behind me – trying to keep in his good graces. The nice cashier wasn't having a bad day. It was going fast for her! She had already been there an hour! (It was 9:00 AM.) That was good, she said, because often her work days didn't go so fast. She was really looking forward to Wednesday and Thursday – her days off. Anyway, the happy ending to this part of the day? We got the Batman shirt. And I feel like we made some friends.

This afternoon I decided to submit that winter is coming. I began to put away the outdoor furniture, sad as it may be. After making progress on that front, I thought to myself, what the heck. Let's transfer some of my lilies. A grave error on my part. Within minutes, I was covered with black pirate bugs who adored the taste of my skin. After doing the bug-get-off-me dance, I gave up on chores and showered. I was getting ready to make tatortot casserole, when Doug called for a water break. And he had a surprise! He told me he wouldn't be harvesting too late, and we could do something tonight. And I believed him. After nearly 30 years of this harvest dance, I believed him.

So, here I sit, in a really cute new vest, contemplating the events of the day. And I'm smiling. No matter what time the boys get in, it was a good day. Who cares about soaked t-shirts, dog puke and bug bites? My headache disappeared. I got to spend time with my son. I saw both my parents. My daughter texted me. The Hawks won. And I will soon have a beer with my hubby... even if we don't quite make it out tonight. It was a little twisty, but it really was a beautiful day.

Profile of a Trick-or-Treater

As a country-dweller, I don't usually have the pleasure of handing out treats on Halloween. But thanks to Harvest Fest and my mother's shop on the square, I found myself in the fray of costume-adorning fiends last weekend. Not only did I find it FANTASTICALLY FUN, but I also found it to be a great study in sociology. Here are my findings.

Treat beggars can be divided into categories. Methinks these categories could possibly be indicators of one's future. Seriously. I think I saw glimpses of bankers, thespians, and, of course, robbers–sometimes all in the same clan. My classifications are fairly broad. But I think they're comprehensive.

The Sifter: This is the kid who holds up the line, digging through every kind of candy, or every flavor  to find the one she wants. "Do you have watermelon?" Even though there are twenty kids behind her, and her mom knows there are TWENTY KIDS BEHIND HER, you sift through the basket, looking for that elusive piece of watermelon candy. Why don't you take this yummy piece of Reese's I'm planting in front of you?I think to myself as she nonchalantly brushes it aside.  But then it's found! She nods knowingly at me as if to say, "I knew you could do it."  Her mother says, "What do you say?" But she doesn't need to say anything. She knows her presence was thanks enough. She's the girl who knows what she wants and how to get it. She'll let no one deter her vision. Forget Arendelle, this little Elsa will obviously be CEO of JP Morgan someday.

The Grabber: Two handfuls, five scoops–or as many as can be managed before Mom says, "STOP! THAT'S ENOUGH!" And then two more scoops after that. The little fish obviously thinks diabetes is an achievement to attain, or is quite possibly running an illegal candy shop and plans to sell his stash for pure profit. There might be some issues with this one's future. Despite the impressive display of dexterity with those fins. I'm just saying. This one's probably bound for someplace like...Etsy.

The Trickster: The only real trick we experienced this weekend were the repeat beggars. Obviously, we handled it. No damage was done in giving out the extra candy. The Trickster is really on the same page as the Grabber. Yet, the Trickster is smooth. She approaches, for a second or third time, with her costume slightly altered (a Scream mask, this time without the blood...), then she asks all politely, "Can I have one or two?" Of course it works! We know what she's doing, but what grouch shuts off candy for a kid? Especially one with a bloody Scream mask. (I won't speculate on the Trickster's future. Lots of options here.)

The Rule Follower: I wonder if Rule-Followers really have any fun at all on Halloween. I mean, they probably say they have fun because they think they are supposed to have fun. But there's a certain, tortured look on these souls. Their costumes are immaculate–and they are still wearing their hats or masks, otherwise, well, you know, it wouldn't be right. But what's most amusing about this group of kids is their willingness to communicate their values to the "other" kids. "Only take one piece!" "You already took one!" But really, they are a perfectly polite group of kids. After gingerly taking the top piece of candy, whether they like it or not, they look up to ensure their gratitude is noticed. "Thank you." It's sadly adorable. These kids will all be bankers someday. Most likely compliance officers.

In truth, there wasn't one kid I didn't lose my heart to just a little bit. No matter what the origins, Halloween has become a strangely celebratory holiday–for all ages. It's fun. It's strange. It can be spooky. But mostly, I think, it's a great way to celebrate our individuality.

Mom and me...as Star Wars Fanboys. The kids loved us.

A Costume Break

Last Saturday night Doug and I were ripped from our normal routine of veg’ing in front of the tube, arguing over what movie to watch before SNL hit the airwaves. We didn't have to discuss whether a particular comedy was too bawdy for our children to watch because...we had an actual social engagement–my annual bank party. Alex was so excited for her parents to be gone. "Don't come home before midnight, ok?" Um, well, that was a bit of a tall order, but we gave it the old college try. Well, maybe not quite a college try. Midnight is pretty late for us.

The company event was fun, albeit short since we arrived in our typical late fashion from an all-day soccer tournament. At least we got to experience the perfunctory matters where I received my award for fifteen years of service. Woo hoo. (Yep, I'm that old.) Oh, and did I mention it was a costume party? 

Now, our family loves the ghoulish holiday anyway. We've actually been planning a Halloween party for YEARS! Decorations and party favors have been firmly planted away since, like, 2009. Doug and I just keep purchasing quaint party favors for this event we never host. So, attending the costume party, with people who sincerely endorse the spirit of Halloween was, well, a treat in its own accord. Marilyn Monroe, Abba, Lucille Ball with Rickie, Barbie with GI Joe. You never too old to pretend. Speaking of, the theme was "dress your age." You could choose to dress up like someone or a trend that reflected your age. I dressed as Buzz Aldrin, since I came about circa 1969. I wanted Doug to dress as Andy Warhol, but he just wouldn't do it since he had no idea who the guy was...really! Instead he attempted the hippie gig. With Doug's buzzed haircut, he looked more like a Vietnam veteran making a very sad attempt to pass for a flower child.

Luckily we didn't have to cut our night short despite the bank party closing dismally early. A few of us trekked to "The Lounge" where creativity abounded. I asked Doug who he thought would win best costume. He favored the sexy leprechaun, the sexy nun, Little Red Riding hood. You get the picture. But I liked the more unique ensembles. Nacho Libre, Beetlejuice. I even enjoyed a few particularly well-done Grim Reapers.

We hadn't been to the bar in ages. And it was fun to socialize with people other than our kids. For once. But the Lounge, you see, has a gigantic theater-sized TV screen. And despite the fact that we didn't have to watch TV on Saturday night, guess what Doug and I found ourselves doing? Watching that big old screen.

Pathetic? Maybe.

But just listen. They were playing VIDEOS! And we're Gen Xers. We don't ever get to see videos on MTV anymore. And we want our MTV.  Apparently. I was so inspired that last night I decided to rent Rock of Ages–the musical set the year we graduated (1987). And it was like watching a two hour video. Even the kids enjoyed the little blast from the past. (Admittedly, I was wishing for Mary J Blige to sing a little more...)

 Masquerades. Nostalgia. What's going on with us? Maybe we need a vacation. Or, maybe the calendar just needs to flip to November 7 so we can all get on with our lives and have something beyond politics to talk about. 

Halloween Post Mortem

Apparently I've been on a blog holiday! Or, just maybe I've been too busy??? Never! Just been trying to live in the moment and enjoy my family a bit...since Doug's been prohibited from dancing in the fields, he usually keeps my head in the game, or in other words, off the computer. So, real quickly before I make my kids take a walk with me...

Halloween officially makes me sad as my kids want no part of me...until they come crashing down at 11:00 P.M. from a sugar high and decide it's okay to crawl into my lap. (I'LL TAKE IT!!!) Seeing little Catherine and Mikey in their puffy kitty and dragon costumes made me ache for the days when your babies had absolutely no say in what they wore...then I noticed how their mothers get so little rest and maybe I'm okay with my aging children .How tired Amy and Susie must be all the time! I should've counted how many times I heard "Mommy!"

On a completely different note...

Parent-teacher conferences always make me reflect on my silly perfectionistic worldview.

"Yes, her kindness to others makes me almost as proud of her good grades." Almost? Almost as proud? What kind of monster am I? Her kindness makes me MORE proud than any of her good grades. Really.

Or,

"So, what does he need to do to get into accelerated math?" I didn't actually say this about my 2nd grader, but I thought it. He's borderline. And yes, I'm proud he's doing so well that he was considered for accelerated math. Even though he didn't make it...

Okay, the fresh air is a calling... moral of this week's events? Don't forget to enjoy your kids. Don't forget to be proud of them. Don't forget to show them your love. And don't be afraid to let them grow up.

Once Upon a Full Moon

Once in a great while, we are not exasperated by obligation. The house is clean (enough). Rain prevents one from operating the combine. Children's activities are not penciled on the calendar. AND (this is key), I don't drive everyone crazy attempting to plan the perfect family weekend.

Luckily, I've been just getting over some cold-like illness and my engine has lacked a little fuel. So, I pretty much let the weekend run its course without my usual interference. It's been quite delightful. A couple of highlights:

*Slept fairly late both days.
*Caught a movie that has made me giggle all weekend (The Invention of Lying...if you're a fan of Ricky Gervais, you'll like it.)
*Indulged my magazine addiction...even purchased the People Style Watch edition.
*Put aside a novel called STILL ALICE, which happens to be scaring the begeezus out of me...the main character is diagnosed with Ahlzeimer's at a very young age...
*Told my hubby I wanted a real book case for Christmas. (Have I ever mentioned my book case story? Perhaps I'll save for a later blog post.)

But the best part of the weekend? My kids came together in unison to create a delightful afternoon of carving pumpkins. There were hardly any accusations of copyright violations and the pumpkins turned out quite adorable...Ahhh yes, see what happens when I stay clear of planning? Remind me next weekend...