Halloween-ing

I feel like I always have epic ideas for costumes that are edgy, funny or relevant and no one to humor me to dress up with. No one ever goes for my family themed ones that are over the top or needing lots of effort. As a mom, I now just take the kid to choose and buy the costume with no argument since she no longer lets me dress her.

Halloween was huge when I was little. We had epic trick or treating adventures in my town. My cousins would come over and we usually dressed together. Ghostbusters, Batman and Catwoman, and so on and so forth. We got to dress up at school too, which was a day with no uniform so that's always a big deal.

Halloween is still huge but now it's like a weird exit from fall, directly into the Christmas season. The new "toy book" from Target already came in the mail for Christmas shopping. Pretty sure my kid is already making a list. 

I have a mom friend that literally wins Halloween. She decorates more for Halloween than Christmas and has made costumes for my kid and her own and goes to great lengths to do so. I have some spider and skeleton lights my mom bought us, and some other random decorations but we are probably more of a Christmas kind of people. 

I love Hocus Pocus and Nightmare Before Christmas, but Halloween somehow became the first of the end of year holidays and now is just a prequel to Christmas I think. Some stores already have Christmas decor out and for sale. It's so weird to me.

Thanksgiving has become just a Thursday we eat a lot and wait to go shopping for "deals" and is just a hop, skip and jump to Christmas. I don't want to be "that person" but I do not recall it being like this "back in my day," yes I said it.

Halloweening is now a serious thing. People go all out. Our town and our neighborhood both have epic Halloween festivities and my daughter is finally old enough to make her demands about attendance. 

I love seeing all the costumes and fun things people come up with. I admire the effort and time people put into their costumes. I love watching my kiddo enjoy the hunt for candy and get all excited. However, for me as a mom, that's about it. I don't often dress up and the most festive thing I have right now is candy corn leggings.

I don't dislike Halloween I just feel like it's no longer about me so, I put all my effort into making it fun for the little one. We also live in Florida so it's a little weird down here. It's usually hot, carved pumpkins don't last and you don't have to wear thick clothes under your costumes like I did, back in my day haha.

We are less than a week out for the big day and we have two events that are costume-wearing for the little person to attend this weekend. On the one hand, I might as well get my money's worth. On the other, she usually asks for extra things per wear be it make up or accessories. It's all part of the adventure though.

Some families are Halloween-ing like a boss. Hallow-winning if you will. For me, I just do what I can with the time and resources I have. Maybe as she gets older I will get more adventurous and creative. We'll see! For now, I will be anxiously awaiting her candy haul to sneak pieces at night!

Detour From A Diatribe

I just deleted two paragraphs worth of veiled complaints. Why? I don't want to be that person. I sat in therapy and spoke about formative moments. My therapist called me out on why I might be so sensitive to people deemed "complainers," and why that might be a trigger for me. Not today, complaints, not today.

Staying grateful can feel really intense. Life can be incredibly wobbly at times. It doesn't, however, warrant bitter diatribes and forgetfulness of how lucky we are to be in it, here and now.

It started with something simple, and kinda stupid. Vans emailed me that the full Nightmare Before Christmas collection was available. I've been a Tim Burton fan as long as I can remember. I loved Edward Scissorhands and Big Fish, Beetlejuice, and everything about his directing. I found it all darkly beautiful. Nightmare Before Christmas has lived in infamy on this list. My make-up bag is Jack Skellington. I have watches and jewelry with Jack and Sally. I have the soundtrack on vinyl. Our version of Elf On The Shelf is "Sandy Klaws" aka, Jack Skellington dressed as Santa.

Anyway, it's a beautiful but extremely expensive collection and Vans have always been my coveted and go to shoes since I can remember. All of mine have since been destroyed by wear but I loved them all literally to pieces. I'd love a pair, but they are completely out of the budget and I'm sure they'll sell fast.

At first this really got to me. I never really buy myself non-essential items that aren't coffee and I rarely spend more than $30 on myself for anything. I get a pair of running or gym shoes a year, and occasionally a re-up on clothes but I do so with as little money as possible. I am frugal to a flaw almost, aka cheap. 

So I had my whiny moments. I was trying to "math out" how to get them, but alas, nope. Plus I knew I would buyer's remorse them if I walked out of the store with a bag and receipt. I can't handle spending that kind of money on something so non-essential and I get upset when I spend money on myself.

I'm sure this all sounds overly dramatic but this is part of my anxiety. And definitely a struggle when it comes to my depression. I used to shop when I was sad often. Sometimes with no care for the fiscal consequences. Well, since baby and job changes, I have put myself last-er than last and shop no more. My mom has no concept of living within your means and pushes "new" stuff on me and it's just a heavier reminder of "don't do that."

I get all my weird rationality quirks from my dad. My dad will wear the same jeans, shirts and underpants for a decade but will drive a brand new car and never miss an event deemed worth doing. My dad also never goes on the cheap when it comes to FOOD. My dad used to literally repeat "Just because it's on sale doesn't mean you NEED it."

Last year was the first Black Friday I've ever shopped in my life, and I just got presents for the kid and stocked up on shoes for her to go through because they were super cheap. On average my husband gets about 3 to 4 times the "whatever money" I do weekly. I always put my "luxury" wants on the back burner and always will.

I had started this whole bitter diatribe of why shouldn't I get to have the damned shoes and thought, WHOA WHOA WHOA. You gotta stay grateful and in the moment. So many people don't have what we have and I'll be damned if I take it for granted.

Because life is hilarious, it's not even actually about the shoes. That's the thing. The shoes are just a metaphor for me feeling completely overwhelmed and trying to keep it all together. If I'm being completely honest about current situations in life, I'm feeling as though things are about to get more complicated and I'm extremely stressed.

It's all coming to the surface in my obsession with the having of the shoes. Let me explain. In my youth I worked hard to get what I wanted and I've carried this into my growth. So if I were 20 and I wanted those shoes, I'd pick up 3 extra shifts and go get them, wearing them proudly until they disintegrated off of my feet. In my adulthood, I don't have time for such frivolous things. I'm a salaried gal and I have important financial goals I need to achieve for my sanity and those shoes don't fit into the mix.

Mostly all of this is a big ass mourning session for the loss of my youth. I've got a 6 year old, almost 7 year old daughter, a mortgage, car payments, credit card debt to pay off and responsibilities out the ass. I'm pining over old concert shirts, old mix cds and Tim Burton shoes. Part of me thinks if I can dress the part I can be 22 year old Alison again. I miss adventures and being carefree and fearless. I miss napping when I wanted and watching 6 hours of Netflix drinking cheap wine and having Chinese Food delivered.

So deep down I think if I spoil myself with some custom Vans, that pre-soon-to-be-soccer-mom self, will arise and come back to keep growing, transitioning, struggling Alison company as she figures out all her shit. It's a beautifully painful realization. 

I took a detour from the diatribe because I wanted to be better than that. I endured a recent negative social session or "bitch sesh" if you will and it completely ripped me apart. I've been distracted and obsessing about unanswered texts and planning play dates to take away from all the adulting I must do. 

Complaining is the easy part. It's the easiest coping mechanism on the planet. Often we don't even have to think about it. Riding out the waves after are wipe-out is considerably harder. Staying positive when you're wobbling and feeling as though life is murky? That's difficult. So I took a detour from the diatribe and ended up here, possibly enlightened? I'm a bit unsure. The beauty of it is, I'm happy to be unsure about where I am and what to do next because I'm positive it is part of the process. Somehow there is less stress and more gratefulness in knowing that I don't have to have anything figured out, but instead just enjoy my Friday and push through. 

Are Unicorns Real?

I remember when Christmas lost it's magic in my adolescence. My parents had been in and out of separation and my dad knew that the jig was up about Santa so they just wrapped the presents and left them under the tree as they bought them. I was about 12, and I was left home alone from time to time when my dad was working extra. So every time I was home alone I'd pick under that tree and shake things to see if I got what I wanted on the list. By Christmas morning all of my predictions were not only true, but it totally took away all the fun and any kind of surprise.

I always loved the innocence of imagination and getting lost in fantasy-type stuff. This is why my favorite movie of all time remains, The Princess Bride. Believing that X-Files was partially true was way better than facing what was going on at home. The idea that Pleasantville was remotely possible was fun to imagine. And I was that almost-teenager at Disney who still wanted to meet characters and believed in the magic of it all. 

My daughter came home the other day and said "Mom, so and so said that unicorns aren't real. Are unicorns real?" I said "Yeah! I definitely think they are," with gusto! Why wouldn't I? Being in the magic with kids, is everything and when they lose that, things get a little less fun.

When I nanny-ed for so long, I used to rebuff any of their "realizations" because I never wanted some kid to ruin it for them. It was my job to protect them, not make them grow up. There is some version of Santa for everyone, but anyone who ruins the magic for my child purposefully might get a throat-punch, just saying. 

At a birthday party last weekend my daughter announced that her mom said there were unicorns and the birthday girl said, "Are there really unicorns?" I said, "I certainly think there are." Her little face lit up.

In my house, instead of Elf on the Shelf, which I have issues with, we have Sandy Klaws. This isn't some thing to "make my child act right." This is a character from A Nightmare Before Christmas, a household favorite movie that carries us from Halloween to Christmas, and all he does is create mischief. Every day she wakes up wondering what he did. It's so fun, and she loves it. Here he is:

She actually believes that Sandy Klaws, who is the size of a Barbie I might add, put together her loft bed on Christmas Eve and rearranged her room. For a second, I wanted the credit because we did all the work after all. The next morning she awoke to Sandy Klaws having put together her dollhouse. Again, I wanted the credit! But the way she runs to school to tell these tales and loves them so much, makes it all worth it.

I love that she believes that the entire realm of My Little Pony exists. I love that at Disney she thinks she's met all the characters from her favorite movies and that pixie dust protects her at home. She deserves to have that fun and innocence and it always makes me sad when kids get jaded out of it. 

By age 13, I was that kid. I got hit so hard by reality that I lost the ability to believe in nonsense. Now watching Mary Poppins and Hook and such, I realize how much growing up stinks and I miss the days where I truly believed that when my cousin got Jumanji for Christmas, we would end up IN the game!

I guard the magic for my daughter, pretty carefully. I fully enforce all magic and whimsy. A few years ago we took my best friend and her 3 almost-teen girls to Harry Potter World, and she said she didn't know who looked like they were more impressed and entranced, me or her children. If you're going to go in, go ALL IN.

At Disney, magic is everywhere and so easy to perpetuate. I never regret any money or time we have spent there because my daughter remembers how much fun and adventure we had in that realm. She recounts conversations with characters and getting autographs. She believes that characters actually bought her those free Mickey Bars she used to get. 

So, damn straight unicorns are real! We live in a world where kids being allowed to be kids is being restricted into smaller and smaller time frames. We keep them so busy and they are so immersed in all avenues of pop culture with social media, they can get jaded more easily. That innocence is a click away from disappearing altogether.

I protect my daughter's magic because that's part of being a mom. I've almost outed the tooth fairy and the Easter Bunny out of exhaustion and bad planning, which wouldn't ruin her life, but I just want to give her a stellar childhood to walk into adult life with.

I loved the years of playing with my dolls, make-believe, playing outside, creating weird games, and having fun with my friends. I want more of the same for her and intend to guard it all.

So in my house, Unicorns are real. Santa and Sandy Klaws co-exist only Santa brings the presents and Sandy Klaws brings the silly. The Easter Bunny is real. The tooth fairy is real. When she hits her Harry Potter phase she better know that wands are totally real but won't work unless she's at Hogwarts and she can apply to Hogwarts if she wants. 

Whether other parents like it or not, I intend to be the Czar of Majestic Whimsy and will tell your children all magic exists. Even leprechauns, which are slightly offensive to gingers depending on the connotation, just saying. Stay innocent while you can, I intend to keep my kid that way as long as possible.