Oh, Halloween. How you differ from the Halloweens of my childhood, wherein giant bonfires lit up the night sky and I had to wear a ski jacket and toque over my cheetah costume...meaning a real cheetah, by the way, not some minimal girly getup in cheetah print.
There's no bobbing for apples now. There's no roasting of pumpkin seeds. There's no trick or treating in the bitter cold to houses stretched miles apart and at the end of the night only a meager pillowcase 1/8 full of dubious treats to show for it. No. This is Halloween on steroids, y'all. This is the jaded, hardcore business of raking in the loot. And I don't even try to fight it. I suspect I already have a bit of a reputation on my husband's side of the family for being the mum who prefers wooden toys and healthy treats.
You know.
The funwrecker.
So I just let Halloween roll, and I roll with it.
I roll with the school parade beneath balmy skies wherein the greater concern here is to avoid students collapsing from heat stroke.
I roll with Caroline having just one more Halloween like this before moving on to middle school.
I roll with Izzy's rather unsettling alter ego, Buddy.
And her subsequent return to status quo for a two hour violin lesson which ran interference with her trick or treating window of opportunity...a trifling detail which did not trouble her in the least.
Such a grown up little girl!
Strange things afoot, everywhere I turned.
Very odd, indeed.
And Sophie, running off to revel and haunt with friends her own age...a bit of a new thing, too. But I adore her friends. I adore tall, nerdy girls in general--franchement, no one even told me this was a costume growing up!
So it was fun to roll with that.
And best of all, little cousins. Zillions of them! My favorite pint sized super heroes, all proudly showing me their loot, telling me of the scary things they saw (Izzy and I rolled up to the party just as they arrived back from their adventures).
They are so darling. So sweet. So full of hugs and shy smiles.
And cavities on a stick. :)
Do you think there's any such thing as going back home, going back in time? I'm beginning to suspect it's one reason I come here to write. But I also think it's for me to take a closer look at the here and now, just to realize how good it is.
How wild and crazy, sweet and sugary good.
::::::::::::::::::::
Dear reader, I don't know why I feel obligated to explain my comings and goings...perhaps so my little brother doesn't continue to harass text me for not updating my blog...but I can see the momentum of the season is already beginning to bear down upon my poorly equipped grasp of the time/space continuum with the fury of a thousand winged harpies.
I am failing everywhere I turn--forgetting carpools, forgetting to fill out field trip forms or write the proper check to the proper person, forgetting newly added or changed commitments to our regular schedule, forgetting (or just being in denial about) book reports until we arrive home from trick or treating and Caroline looks at me with haunted eyes, sensing the laundry is chalking up a win against me and possibly planning a total coup, realizing I have no plans for dinner tonight and, oh!
Remembering yesterday's early morning ortho appointment!
Let's give a gold star where it's due, however tiny it may be. Just lick and stick it on my forehead.
At any rate, all this to say perhaps I'm not taking a bona fide hiatus. And perhaps my sporadic absences from Tollipop will sadly not indicate I'm hunkered down, writing the next great novel. But I suspect I will be more hit and miss around here for the next little while.
Otherwise this lifeboat is taking on water a bit too rapidly for my liking.
And someone only gave me a leaky tuna can with which to bail. xo