How Was Halloween? Spooktacular!

Eeyore and Tigger have been waging a war in my brain since I was a teenager. Sometimes, the glass is not only half empty, it’s knocked over. So when I started thinking I had outsourced Halloween, I heard the low slow tones of Eeyore telling me it was all ruined and I should just go back to bed. But when you have a toddler, you can’t sleep 15 hours a day, so Eeyore gets reasoned with more often these days. Tigger gives him a pep talk. They hash it out. And if I’m in a pretty good frame of mind, the debate roars on and I can just watch it floating across my mind as I notice what’s actually happening in the present moment: my nearly-three year old asking for toast and tea for breakfast, the crunch of dried playdoh and rice under the coffee tale. A little bit of mindfulness and well I at least notice where we need to vacuum.

So I spent last week’s Stay-at-Home Monday cleaning the upstairs and the rest of the week cleaning downstairs. Just so you know, if you clean ahead of time, you can do random things on party day like finishing a landscaping project. I bought mulch, bagged compost and sand, and put most of the finishing touches on a garden expansion. I did not stress Cavanaugh out with any new vest fittings. Mike had his fantasy basketball draft and though he’d worked until 3 a.m., he left again at 10 in the morning, and didn’t get back till 3:30. If it had been one of our regular party days, I would have been bouncing around like Tigger trying to get things done, but our to do list was short. Bean in crock-pot, check. Rice in steamer, check. Spray the lawn with garlic mosquito repellant, check. I took a shower. I didn’t dress in a costume. I didn’t even feel bad about it.

Our friends began arriving with one delicious vegetarian dish after another, kids dressed as kittens, angels, and witches. They ran around the yard. Everyone got to eat and chat while the costumed toddlers roamed from playhouse to tool table, book shelf to plastic slide. No pressure. If there had been stress, it would have been because I made it all up. Cavanaugh had even fallen asleep at 6:30 on Friday after the party at his future preschool and a trip to Target for popcorn and caramels. He transferred from the car to the bed. When he woke up three hours later, he said, “I want attention from you.” I changed his diaper, put his pajamas on him, gave him a sip of water and he lay down and went back to sleep. When does that ever happen?

The second greatest part was letting myself off the hook. I didn’t even make the caramel red chile popcorn balls. I decided to take a shower instead. Cavanaugh wasn’t pressured to run all over town or keep himself entertained while I scrambled to get the party together. The small still voice in my head reminded me that the people coming over were friends and they didn’t care if I’d washed the tempera paint off the front porch or that I hadn’t hung the pumpkins Cavanaugh and Nena had painted. They just wanted good company and a place for all our kids to play.

And the greatest part? Trick-or-treating. Cavanaugh’s buddy Sebastian was also dressed as a fireman and they rode around the neighborhood in the cardboard box firetruck Cavanaugh made a few weeks ago. They shared with a ballerina, a dog, a ghost, and a tiger. A stream of fast little feet ran to the doors and soon learned that if the front porch light is off, no one’s bringing any candy.

Cavanaugh would get to the front door and keep standing there after he’d been given candy. He’d reach back in the bowl. He’d try to go into the house. He’d try for third helpings. I’d remind him each time that he could take the treat, say “Thank you” or “Happy Halloween” and go to the next house for more candy. Was he listening? No. Did I care? No.

The crew had dwindled by the time we got back to our house. But we had a small core contingent that came in to share their candy. Nathaniel repeatedly dipped his tootsie pop into his cup of water before taking the next lick. Freya spread her goodies all over the loveseat so she could see her take. Annika wanted Freya’s candy more than her own. And Cavanaugh? He ate candy until he started throwing it away himself. I used my friend Courtney’s policy and explained that candy was only for eating on Halloween so when he went to sleep all the candy was going away. He would unwrap a piece or have me unwrap it for him, take a nibble and try to feed it to me. When I said I didn’t want anymore, he’d throw the uneaten parts into the trash. He ate enough candy that he didn’t want anymore. He crawled up into my lap with his pink leopard and cuddled it while his friends got ready to go home. We went upstairs and brushed teeth and almost immediately fell asleep. No tummy aches or puking. No sugar rush and delirium.

All of it was better than I could have imagined. Especially while we were trick or treating. I just kept looking at this crowd of people, our friends and partners in parenting, and felt so lucky to have such a supportive community. It was heart-opening to watch the kids crowd together and try to reach the doorbells, delve into their plastic pumpkins for shiny bits of candy, and even trip then jump back up again to run to the next house because they were so caught up in this new fun thing. Halloween was definitely reclaimed at our house.

What was the highlight of your Halloween?

Outsourcing Halloween

Do you ever get so excited about something that your vision just about ruins the reality?

I got last minute inspiration for how to make a firefighter vest for Cavanaugh after debating whether to buy a $35 raincoat and have him dressed as a firefighter anytime the sky opened up. I did not like that option, nor any of the costumes we saw at thrift stores, Target, or online. We made a trip to Joanne Fabric for red, yellow, and black felt and big black buttons. I was feeling crafty and proud of myself for breaking through my Halloween-block.

The fabric store was hard. It followed too many errands and Cavanaugh was delirious, wanting to run the aisles and put his hands on everything. He was so excited to be getting his costume that he wasn’t listening to my options: you can walk next to me or I will have to carry you. He ran. I picked him up. He wriggled out of my arms. I finally grabbed the back of his collar because I couldn’t reach any other part of him. Not the best shopping trip ever.

So the next day, as I held the felt up against him to try to figure out how to make up a pattern and get everything attached while listening to my voices say I can’t even cut a straight line, I decided to plow through, make a practice vest if I needed to. I used the glue gun, figured out how to overlap the sides so I could add buttons. Cavanaugh’s nanny arrived and I showed her what we’d been doing. She started to baste the shoulders to make them tighter but I realized I didn’t want to share the project. I was excited to do it “all by myself,” as Cavanaugh would say.

When I sat down at my computer to print out coloring pages of pumpkins and bats, I glanced at my email and found a message from a friend I was supposed to meet for lunch two minutes before. Aaah! I called her and said I was on my way. I told Nena that Cavanaugh could go to the Halloween party at his future preschool in his hat, red shirt, and firefighter jeans and I’d finish the costume that night. I asked if they might like to cut out some orange construction paper into pumpkins. Then I ran out the door.

When I returned from lunch, she’d finished the vest. They had cut out pumpkins, painted stems, and drawn faces on them. I saw the “little ghosties” my friend Kira had made and Mike and Cavanaugh had hung up that morning and felt like I’d outsourced Halloween. Imagining looking at Halloween pictures of Cavanaugh years later in the vest costume his nanny had made, which didn’t look like I would have done it, I wanted to cry. Instead I took Cavanaugh to the Halloween party and considered making a second vest by myself.

On Saturday morning, as Mike and I talked about what needed to get done to prep for the party, I told him about the vest, the ghosts, my newfound determination to like Halloween and how everyone else was doing it instead of me. He said it sounded like I was snatching defeat from the jaws of victory. And I was. Instead of being grateful that I had so many people to help or that Cavanaugh had a costume and was super-excited, I was feeling sorry for myself, grieving my vision of being super Halloween mom. Friday afternoon, I might as well have been eating wet cigarettes in the dark, as our friend Genevieve used to say.

My husband’s perspective helped me realize I don’t have to have that old childhood reaction: it’s just messed up and there’s nothing I can do about it so I’ll feel depressed. Instead, I was grateful that the house was clean, the decorations and costumes were done. It meant I could use the day to finish a landscaping project rather than scrambling around all day with party prep. How was the party? Spooktacular. More on that tomorrow.

Do you find yourself having expectations that interfere with your being able to see the good things in front of you because they don’t look like you’d planned?

Reclaiming Halloween

Halloween has been my least favorite day of the year for about 20 years now, which is a shame because I loved it as a child. I lived in a small valley 20 miles outside of Taos, New Mexico that maybe had a population of 500. I knew everyone up and down my road. We trick-or-treated at each other’s houses, but that was just the precursor.

At the only crossroad in the valley, Eric Vom Dorp, who is over six feet tall, hunched in his long black witch’s dress, his pointy hat adding another foot or so to cackling crone. He had a huge cauldron of homemade apple cider, which we drank on the hayride to the community center. There we bobbed for apples, did cakewalks and walked through the haunted house, the highlights of which were “brains,” a bowl of cold spaghetti to run your fingers through, and “spiders” dangling things that tickled against my face and sent a shiver up my spine. After the community center, a bunch of us kids would go back to my house and eat our candy while we watched Halloween movies. We carried the tradition into high school, sitting in the dark and jumping as Freddy Krueger’s nightmares invaded our playroom. Truly, Halloween was about getting to hang out with a bunch of people I loved, getting sugared up, and looking up at a sky slathered with stars, reminding us how big the night was and what imaginary scary things were out there while we all huddled together, happy and safe.

Then I went to college and the first Halloween party I attended was a six-kegger or so full of wasted strangers in togas and terrifying masks. I suffocate in social anxiety at parties populated by people I don’t know. Not being able to tell who anyone was made it even worse. If I was convinced (read: strong-armed) into attending a Halloween party, I obsessed over the costume, feeling inept because I can barely figure out what to wear on a regular day and my costumes growing up were whatever plastic thing my mom could find at TG&Y or Piggly Wiggly.

Before I had Cavanaugh, I had gotten to the point where I would pretend I wasn’t home on Halloween. I’d lock the door, turn off all the lights, and watch TV on a low volume so no one would know I was home. Some kids would ring the bell anyway. I’d hear their hopeful voices on the stoop and feel guilty and lame and lonely.

Now I have a kid. He doesn’t really understand what Halloween is yet. But I want him to. I took him to a park party on the day of and borrowed his friend Aidan’s apron so he’d have something to wear. I topped it with a pumpkin hat my sister sent in the mail. Feeling the pressure to be festive, I donned an apron after Mike put his on too. That night we watched It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown and trick-or-treated with our neighbors who also have small children. It was fine, but no memory maker. I was phoning it in.

Now, Cavanaugh’s starting to understand Halloween a little. I want it to be full of community and fun, not scary mean things or getting sick on candy. So when I walked the costume aisles at Target, I felt sad at the prospect of more store-bought holidays. I dreaded the end of this month and felt inept all over again because I hang out with a bunch of crafty mamas who can actually sew their kids’ costumes.

And then I started asking myself if this is it, if for the rest of my life Halloween will be automatically miserable, if I’m going to fake it for my son or pass on my loathing to him so he can hate it too. But I just can’t stand that. I’m not going to do it. Instead, we’re hosting a potluck party. I’m making Cavanaugh a homemade firefighter costume. And I’m debuting my red chile caramel popcorn balls. This is the year I’m reclaiming Halloween. I’ll let you know how it goes.

I’d love to hear about your own Halloween traditions from childhood and beyond. What do you do with your kids to make Halloween special? And how do you deal with the whole candy issue?

Ways to Celebrate Mother’s Day

Since none of us really have the energy to celebrate Mother’s Day every day, we need to take advantage of the opportunities that do arise on this dubious holiday. I call it dubious because it is unlikely most of us will get a true holiday. It’s nice they’ve made a day for us anyway.

When I posted recently about some serious mama burn-out, my friend Courtney sent me a link to a Post Mother’s Day Retreat here in Austin. When I emailed to ask for more details, I found out the day will include meditation, writing, crafting, someone feeding me lunch, self-reflection, and general relaxation. I’m in. Who wants to join me?

Get a free copy of  The Mother’s Guide to Self Renewal from May 8 – 10. It’s a workbook for helping to find your way to balance as a mother. I started rereading it recently because I could use a little renewal myself. When I first got this book, my son was only six months old and I couldn’t imagine ever needing time just for me again. Two and a half years in, this book is doing me some good.

Free dinner for Mamas at Mama Fu’s restaurant from May 4 – 10.

Listed to some cool mama music. I made myself a mama CD for my first Mother’s Day with songs that were about moms. I listen to it when I need to be reminded I am doing a big job being a mama. FYI, this is not one to listen to with your kids in the vicinity.

Anyone else know of any ways to celebrate or give yourself a break this Mother’s Day?

The Best Intentions

I was never a big New Year’s Eve fan. Though I’m up past midnight most nights, the fireworks, parties where everyone’s wasted, plus the pressure to have a whole new life  and be a better person, and have a stellar kiss at midnight are all a little too much for me.

When Austin started having a First Night celebration four years ago, it changed my perception of the holiday. Instead of a champagne hangover (which I get after about half a plastic cup), artists from all over the city put together installations, performances, and parade floats. I performed poetry in City Hall and sat in the Mayor’s chair. Last year our big highlight was following Cavanaugh through a string maze.

This year, we planned to arrive early for the family celebration.  We were carpooling with my friend and her son and meeting our husband’s downtown. We had a great plan to park across from Freebird’s World Burrito because it’s fast food that’s not greasy (praise be), get our fill of First Night action, go out to dinner, transfer our friend’s car seat to her husband’s car and then come home. As with so many plans with small children, it didn’t go the way we’d hoped. Cavanaugh had gotten so cozy in the carrier ride over that he wouldn’t let his dad touch or hold him. Then there weren’t really activities for two-year-olds besides running through a tunnel constructed of bamboo, dancing to El Tule in a field of dead grass, and eating string cheese while we sat in the dirt.  

The highlight was the Resolution Clock, built out of wood, inked with people’s resolutions and then burned at midnight. The artistry was mesmerizing and getting to see it almost made up for the lack of activities for the kids who were quickly overstimulated by the music and crowd.  We decided to eat before going to the parade. After dinner though, Aidan was so sleepy we ended up driving our buddies back to their car to transfer carseats. It could just as easily have been my son melting down, so I didn’t begrudge the drive, but when we got back to the field and I realized there was no way we’d see any of the parade, I started to feel a little disappointed.

 

Then I got a reminder about intentions. Though we’d planned to see the parade and be home by now, we found ourselves in the dark field,  listening to music and waiting for the clock to burn.  Instead of a parade that Cavanaugh might or might not have liked, Cavanaugh was thrilled to run under the bamboo tunnel, now glowing with LED lights, as he called out “pink” and “geen” when the hues shifted. Then they set the clock on fire, with fireworks spurting out of the top, sparks floating like fireflies, and the architecture—along with all of our resolutions—ensconced in flame.

On our way back to the car, now parked in the opposite direction of my well-executed (read: foolhardy) plan, we walked past the waterpark.  We arrived for fountain fireworks created by water and more LEDs. Cavanaugh was either entranced or exhausted. We wouldn’t seen any of the light shows had the day gone as intended. It felt like the year’s resolution for us was to be flexible, follow what the moment called for, and live in the present enjoying what’s offered. I’m sure we won’t be able to do that all year long, but for a couple of hours tonight, the best of our intentions were far surpassed by what was right in front of us.

Listen: I Think Therefore I Jingle

Last year, we swore to ourselves that we’d  make the Christmas mix Thanksgiving weekend so we’d be able to give it to people to listen to before Christmas. We started it the day after Thanksgiving, but didn’t finish until last week or make copies until the 21st. We’ll do better next year. We loved the songs again this year though, and expanded from our originally agreed upon 10 songs to 12. Our convenient excuse is the twelve days of Christmas. What are those again? Anyway, here’s Cavanaugh’s Christmas, Volume III for those who want to get in the spirit but don’t want to listen to the standards done in the traditional way.

I Think, Therefore I Jingle: An Existential Christmas

1. “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen” by Aimee Mann
2. “Donna and Blitzen” by Badly Drawn Boy
3. “Do You Hear What I Hear” by the Flying Saucers
4. “Up On the House Top” by the Jackson 5
5. “Trim Your Tree” by the Asylum Street Spanker
6. “Christmas is Coming” by John Denver & the Muppets
7. “River” by Sarah McLachlan
8. “Things We Don’t Need Anymore” by Jenny Owen Youngs
9. “Christmas Song” by Stars
10. “Did I Make You Cry on Christmas” by Sufjan Stevens
11. “Wonderful Christmas” by Tom McRae
12. “Gabriel’s Message” by Sting

The Gift of a Day

Today is my 38th birthday. My husband took the day off of work and my mom said she’d help with whatever I needed so it could be my day. Even with those generous offers, I’ve had a very hard time figuring out how I’d like to spend my time. I don’t want to go shopping or out to dinner. I couldn’t even decide if I wanted a cake.

Figuring out what I wanted to do for me was challenging, I think, because I spend most of my days looking after people I love. The ubiquitous warnings about how your life changes when you have a child, how you should go to the movies or grown-up restaurants didn’t prepare me for the utter transition of self that comes with becoming a mama, especially an AP mama. For my last two birthdays, I couldn’t imagine wanting to be away from my son. The best way I could spend my birthdays was being with a person I had birthed into the world, but he just turned two and I feel differently this year.

It’s not movies and restaurants I miss. Actually, Mike and I went to see Synecdoche, New York recently while my mom watched Cavanaugh, and I go out to eat with and without my son. What I have a hard time with is lizard hands, since diaper changing, yogurt spills, digging in the dirt, and wiping noses necessitate at least twenty hand washings a day. I miss taking a shower without a little person yelling, “No” or “Milk.” I miss sleeping in and spending an entire Sunday afternoon reading a book.

So, when I started thinking about what I’d actually like to do on my birthday, I was sure of three things. I wanted to take a shower and for the house to be clean. And I scheduled a mani/pedi with a gift certificate I received for last year’s birthday. I just want some quiet and time with myself. I don’t want to gorge on sweets or go shopping. I want to sit in my house alone and write, read, crochet, nap, drink some hot chai, and just be still. Especially going into the holidays, I find that it’s easy to lose days to errands, decorating, purchasing presents and to get to the end of the day and feel like it was lost. Today, I want to give myself the gift of balance, receive some nurturing touch, and time taking care of myself since most of every day is spent nurturing a little person I love more than pink toenails or a trip to the toilet alone.

Happy birthday to me! Happy holidays to you! May we all find some balance and time to connect with ourselves.

Listen: Unconventional Christmas Music

Cavanaugh’s Christmas Vol. 2:  Xmas Doesn’t Happen in an Elevator

 

1. “Gary” by MC Lars
2. “Christmas in Hollis” by Run-D.M.C.
3. “Getting’ In The Mood (For Christmas)” by The Brian Setzer Orchestra
4. “You’re a Mean One, Mr. Grinch” by the Asylum Street Spankers
5. “Silver Bells” by Twisted Sister
6. “Love Came Down at Christmas” by Jars of Clay
7. “Rudy” by The Be Good Tanyas
8. “All That I Want” by The Weepies
9. “Sister Winter” by Sufjan Stevens
10. “Gaudete” by Mediaeval Baebes

Listen: Getting in the Holiday Spirit

I’ve always hated Christmas music, even “Jingle Bells,” which for some reason always gets stuck in my head come July. Since my son was born in November (2006), we were headed into the holidays and trying to figure out what our family traditions were going to be. The problem is that in Texas, it’s very rarely “beginning to look a lot like Christmas” and we needed something to get us in the holiday spirit. We had a couple of Christmas CDs: A Christmas Spanking by the Asylum Street Spankers and Christmas Caravan by the Squirrel Nut Zippers. We started listening to those and I realized it wasn’t Christmas music per se that I disliked. It was muzak style piped into shopping malls and used as background on commercials. I started looking on iTunes for other Christmas music that I could stand to listen to. Anytime Cavanaugh was sleeping on his first Christmas Eve and Day, I was online looking for music. By the end of Christmas 2006, we had our first volume in a series and decided to make a new mix each year as one of our family traditions.

Cavanaugh’s Christmas Volume I

1. Christmas Wrapping by The Waitresses
2. Maybe This Christmas by Ron Sexsmith
3. Rock of Ages (Full Mix) by Ben Kweller
4. Winter Weather by Squirrel Nut Zippers
5. Fairytale of New York by The Pogues
6. Santa Claus is Thumbing to Town by Reliant k
7. Christians and Pagans by Dar Williams
8. Christmas for Cowboys by John Denver
9. Peace on Earth by Adam Carroll
10. Happy Xmas (War is Over) by Polyphonic Spree

Gratitude and Rest

My husband and I have been trying to figure out what to do for Thanksgiving this year. We’re feeling exhausted from work, house and garden projects, my mom moving to town. Having a big Thanksgiving event just seems like another project, one we wouldn’t necessarily feel thankful for.

When I was pregnant, Mike and I talked about what holiday traditions we’d grown up with and what we wanted to create or continue for our son. Thanksgiving has always been my favorite holiday. I love the time in the kitchen, eating and serving food that I may only make on that day of the year. Growing up, we didn’t have many traditions in my family, but on Thanksgiving we made carrots glazed with butter, nutmeg and lemon juice, mashed yams with orange juice and brown sugar, peas, rolls, buttery mashed potatoes. hot cranberry punch, pumpkin flan, and cheesecake in a homemade graham cracker crust. It wasn’t a particularly healthy meal, but we spent time in the kitchen together. My sister set the table with silver and cloth napkins, tablecloths we saw no other day of the year. We broke bread together. We said grace. If our neighbors were there, we went around the table saying what we were thankful for. But I don’t feel like spending the whole day in the kitchen this year. There aren’t as many hands. Cavanaugh will only play in the sink or stir flour with a whisk for so long.

Recently, every weekend has been full. The time change has made the days feel shorter. Not having anything to do or anywhere to go on Thanksgiving sounds great.I want to clean our house the weekend before (and keep it relatively picked up – ha ha). I want to make a small grocery trip and do the prep for our Thanksgiving meal in the preceding days. On Thanksgiving Day all we’ll need to do is assemble and cook the dishes. With our immediate family of three, we won’t need to double and triple recipes. We’ll have less work and a lower grocery bill. If we prep ahead of time so we don’t have to spend the whole day in the kitchen, we can make leaf piles for Cavanaugh to jump on in the yard. We can lie in the hammock. We can play and rest.

I want us to take the time to feed our bodies and spirits with love and respect, to sit quietly, eat mindfully, and to remember what we’re grateful for: each other, our home, and that Texas summer has finally given way to crisp air, weather to be in.