Showing posts with label Fall. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Fall. Show all posts
Wednesday, September 20, 2017
The Halloween Conundrum
It is only September 20. It's not even officially autumn yet, I know. But things around here start to look like autumn, well, about the day after Labor Day. It is a crisp (hopefully) season that brings to mind the retirement of swimsuits and the resurgence of sweaters, jeans, warm wooly blankets and beautiful color. I mean really, it is the only time of year when people like the color orange. It's pumpkin patches, hot cider, It's the Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown and less daylight...basically, the best time of the freaking year. For most people, it is the time when kids start to talk about Halloween costumes.
For us? It starts about January. Some take that long to afford, some take that long to make and others have to be talked down from being something no one will understand the motivation. "Yes, Nora. Being a female Indiana Jones is important and exciting, but unless someone is also following you around with the theme music, I'm thinking no one will understand it." She likes to think way outside of the box. Usually, Oscar has some grandiose costume that outside of a professional theater department no one could really replicate. Atticus usually choses some super hero to represent and I spend the night watching him fall down as the costume is ill fitting. Abe? Well, he honestly, and I swear I'm not choosing favorites, has the best costumes.
It isn't because he is overthinks them. It isn't because he's slight and can fit into anything. He keeps it simple and seriously nails the entire character. One year he wanted to be Superman, and I was for some reason feeling like I needed to make the costume. He committed to the character, he wore navy tights and bright red girls bloomer shorts that I bought at a flea market. Before we left the house, he was 2 years old mind you, he had to fix his hair as to have the perfect Superman curl on his forehead. Since then, the costumes have become easier, but he takes usually something we have lying around the house and turns it into a recognizable costume. So secretly, as noting it aloud would be like I'm living out Sophie's Choice around here, I eagerly wait to see what Abe will chose to be for Halloween.
This year however, we might have it a Halloween conundrum...the kind that I feared would happen eventually. After weeks of people telling me what they are going to be, some I understood, some I did not, Abe declared that he was probably going to stay home. While I thought to myself, I guess he could pass out candy- I quickly shuttered. I'm sorry, I misunderstood. What? WHAT? I thought to myself, he is only in the sixth grade? He can't be giving up yet? Sure, Oscar should probably not trick-or-treat this year as he is a giant with a ridiculously low voice, I'm not trying to give little old ladies heart attacks. But Abe? This is the last bastion of his youth, in a non creepy way. This is the last year he won't be looked at as a hooligan. This is the time when he still needs to be a kid.
As many topics of the hot-button-variety in this house, I flippantly let it go. My hope is that for a minute he wanted to hear himself act "grown-up" and eventually he'll come to his senses. He could actually hold the record for the most houses visited in the shortest amount of time and I can't imagine he could resist the candy. The fact of the matter is, if he decides to give up Halloween, I guess that is his decision. It's a part of life, I have to let them grow. While I'm grateful for the air to get crisp, watching your red bloomered boy grow up, might require some grown-up cider.
Monday, October 6, 2014
...a good cry, stiff drink, or both
It's finally Fall...finally, that time of year when the air gets crisp, night comes earlier, your skin gets thinner and you are surrounded by color that changes daily. For me, this month is sort of bitter sweet. While I've had so many wonderful things that have happened to me, there have been some things that have changed me forever. It's ironic, the beauty of Fall. What I long to see all year long, is really the dying off of something so that come spring, it can bloom once again.
To me October always means anniversaries, baking, decorating, warm cardigans, and your favorite jeans. The Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown, and the never ending quest to find the perfect/cheap Halloween costume...knowing that making it yourself means really spending as much as you would just buying the damned thing. Getting back out your cozy socks, sweat pants, and looking forward to snuggling under blankets while watching movies...even if it's because you refuse to turn the heat on until November. It's simple minded. It's easy. It's heartwarming, this love affair with October...but at times it comes with a price.
The miracle of life is one that is most definitely taken for granted. I used to be one of these people. The first time we became pregnant I was ready to shout it to anyone I knew, and I was something like 4 weeks pregnant. When you have to be shown how quickly that miracle can be taken away from you, it hardens your heart. When you have to deliver a baby you will never take home, somewhere deep inside, it changes you. Suddenly, all of these other women, of whom you never knew their sorrow, come out of the woodwork. They too had lost a baby. And now, you are in this strange and sad sorority of women who know too well the miracle of life...how it should never be taken for granted. So, I'll either have a good cry, make a stiff drink, or perhaps both (hell knows I've earned it) later this month. From that sorrow, I learned something more profound, your strength not only comes from you, but also the ones you love around you. Little did I know then this would merely be a 'try-on' for my latter life.
I knew before I was even asked. I knew I wanted to get married in October. I had a mental date set up in my head for years. If Jason ever asked me to marry him, I knew I wanted to get married on the same date that we met. If that date would have fallen on a Wednesday, I still would have done it. To most, meeting someone on Friday the 13th would have been a bad omen, but it was a day that intensely changed my life for ever. Our wedding wasn't fancy, but it had meaning. Years later, people would comment to me how much they loved our wedding, the ceremony and the reception. It was a culmination of two families and amazing friends coming together to celebrate. What could be better than that? I'm a week out from this anniversary, and I'm not really sure how I feel. One would understand being sad on that day now...and at times when I think about it, it does make me sad. But, then I think of all that came from it. I think about all of the things I've been given since then.
A wise person told me recently,"... you didn't choose for your entire life to change...you didn't choose for your husband to leave...it happened and now you have to deal with it the best you can." They're right. It's anniversaries like the one I'm approaching that are sort of a mind scramble. It's like I want to mentally prepare myself for that day...yeah, I know the OCD in that statement is easily spread with knife. I'm not obtuse enough to think that I have any control over it. It has been sort of creeping up on me like a cheap pair of underwear...this sort of pit in my stomach. From an extraordinary life, there will always have been pit falls, hard times. On this October 13th (unlucky to some), I'm going to try to focus on the extraordinary gifts I've been given. The extraordinary laughs I have had, and the extraordinary place I have ended up with this person who is no longer here to celebrate with me. October, you are one tough broad. But, you haven't taken this one out yet...
To me October always means anniversaries, baking, decorating, warm cardigans, and your favorite jeans. The Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown, and the never ending quest to find the perfect/cheap Halloween costume...knowing that making it yourself means really spending as much as you would just buying the damned thing. Getting back out your cozy socks, sweat pants, and looking forward to snuggling under blankets while watching movies...even if it's because you refuse to turn the heat on until November. It's simple minded. It's easy. It's heartwarming, this love affair with October...but at times it comes with a price.
The miracle of life is one that is most definitely taken for granted. I used to be one of these people. The first time we became pregnant I was ready to shout it to anyone I knew, and I was something like 4 weeks pregnant. When you have to be shown how quickly that miracle can be taken away from you, it hardens your heart. When you have to deliver a baby you will never take home, somewhere deep inside, it changes you. Suddenly, all of these other women, of whom you never knew their sorrow, come out of the woodwork. They too had lost a baby. And now, you are in this strange and sad sorority of women who know too well the miracle of life...how it should never be taken for granted. So, I'll either have a good cry, make a stiff drink, or perhaps both (hell knows I've earned it) later this month. From that sorrow, I learned something more profound, your strength not only comes from you, but also the ones you love around you. Little did I know then this would merely be a 'try-on' for my latter life.
I knew before I was even asked. I knew I wanted to get married in October. I had a mental date set up in my head for years. If Jason ever asked me to marry him, I knew I wanted to get married on the same date that we met. If that date would have fallen on a Wednesday, I still would have done it. To most, meeting someone on Friday the 13th would have been a bad omen, but it was a day that intensely changed my life for ever. Our wedding wasn't fancy, but it had meaning. Years later, people would comment to me how much they loved our wedding, the ceremony and the reception. It was a culmination of two families and amazing friends coming together to celebrate. What could be better than that? I'm a week out from this anniversary, and I'm not really sure how I feel. One would understand being sad on that day now...and at times when I think about it, it does make me sad. But, then I think of all that came from it. I think about all of the things I've been given since then.
A wise person told me recently,"... you didn't choose for your entire life to change...you didn't choose for your husband to leave...it happened and now you have to deal with it the best you can." They're right. It's anniversaries like the one I'm approaching that are sort of a mind scramble. It's like I want to mentally prepare myself for that day...yeah, I know the OCD in that statement is easily spread with knife. I'm not obtuse enough to think that I have any control over it. It has been sort of creeping up on me like a cheap pair of underwear...this sort of pit in my stomach. From an extraordinary life, there will always have been pit falls, hard times. On this October 13th (unlucky to some), I'm going to try to focus on the extraordinary gifts I've been given. The extraordinary laughs I have had, and the extraordinary place I have ended up with this person who is no longer here to celebrate with me. October, you are one tough broad. But, you haven't taken this one out yet...
Wednesday, September 25, 2013
...it's all good, as long as there are no witnesses...
...finally, it's Fall. For me it's the most beautiful time of the year (odd, to see beauty as everything is dying off)...everything is nestled into my favorite colors. The air is crisp. The oven beckons to be turned on. Soup is on the stove. Finally, it's trips to the pumpkin patches that we are now looking forward to. I found one just up the road from where we live, Harvestville Farm. If the place is half as beautiful as it's stunning pictures portray it, it might become a family tradition. So, it didn't surprise me today, when Nora had a suggestion for another afternoon road trip.
"So, I say we just go to the bathroom, get our shoes on, get in the car and hit the road...We can eat at McDonald's when we get there...", said Nora. I was wondering where she had us heading, while I figured Quincy, I thought I'd ask her just the same. Her answer, well that became a game of 23,456 questions, most of which I didn't have the answers for. In her most logical, phonetically "th" challenged voice, she responds, "....well, we are going to hit the road and drive to heaven, of course..."
Sometimes I think she can read minds. No, seriously, it's freaking frightening. In the last couple of days, I've been noticing how people measure time. Now, I've been told by my brilliant friend April, who has studied this very subject, that the entire concept of measuring time...was brought on by a woman. Interesting, but not surprising. The whole idea of a woman knowing her bodily rhythms, became an important measure of time way, way back when. Growing up, I always remember the nuns in school measuring time with The Vatican I & II. The older you get, you measure time by where you are, what you have done. My kid's measurement of time are based around holidays or seasons but also as Nora likes to put it, "...before Daddy went to heaven/ after Daddy went to heaven". I think that is an interesting way of measuring time, leaves little up for question. The one burning question I'd like to ask this four year old, how long ago was that?
For me, it's tough. For me, time is something that I yearn for, wishing there were more hours in the day. I sort of run from at the same time, wishing I could push the clock forward...if for no other reason than to be able to exhale, and know it all worked out. With the exception of Atticus and the orange jumpsuit, I'm not that naïve. For me, the last 11 or so months, have seriously felt like years. So much so, that at times, I get a little pissed at myself, thinking, why the hell haven't I gotten this done or that figured out...I have to remind myself that my old life, isn't even fully visible in my rear view mirror. I have to remind myself that this hasn't been this way forever. I guess, maybe even that is oddly gratifying. There was a time, last Fall, that I seriously (also silently) doubted we'd even make it out alive, how would I make any of this work? While my hours are long, sleep fleeting, and my hearing ability heightened for mayhem...those bags under my eyes, they're brand new. They will become deeper...awesome. No matter how I have become accustomed measuring time, I'm at least grateful that I have been given it...that and the ability to remove myself and my children from a situation, recognizing there might be witnesses...Harvetville Farms, here we come!!
"So, I say we just go to the bathroom, get our shoes on, get in the car and hit the road...We can eat at McDonald's when we get there...", said Nora. I was wondering where she had us heading, while I figured Quincy, I thought I'd ask her just the same. Her answer, well that became a game of 23,456 questions, most of which I didn't have the answers for. In her most logical, phonetically "th" challenged voice, she responds, "....well, we are going to hit the road and drive to heaven, of course..."
Sometimes I think she can read minds. No, seriously, it's freaking frightening. In the last couple of days, I've been noticing how people measure time. Now, I've been told by my brilliant friend April, who has studied this very subject, that the entire concept of measuring time...was brought on by a woman. Interesting, but not surprising. The whole idea of a woman knowing her bodily rhythms, became an important measure of time way, way back when. Growing up, I always remember the nuns in school measuring time with The Vatican I & II. The older you get, you measure time by where you are, what you have done. My kid's measurement of time are based around holidays or seasons but also as Nora likes to put it, "...before Daddy went to heaven/ after Daddy went to heaven". I think that is an interesting way of measuring time, leaves little up for question. The one burning question I'd like to ask this four year old, how long ago was that?
For me, it's tough. For me, time is something that I yearn for, wishing there were more hours in the day. I sort of run from at the same time, wishing I could push the clock forward...if for no other reason than to be able to exhale, and know it all worked out. With the exception of Atticus and the orange jumpsuit, I'm not that naïve. For me, the last 11 or so months, have seriously felt like years. So much so, that at times, I get a little pissed at myself, thinking, why the hell haven't I gotten this done or that figured out...I have to remind myself that my old life, isn't even fully visible in my rear view mirror. I have to remind myself that this hasn't been this way forever. I guess, maybe even that is oddly gratifying. There was a time, last Fall, that I seriously (also silently) doubted we'd even make it out alive, how would I make any of this work? While my hours are long, sleep fleeting, and my hearing ability heightened for mayhem...those bags under my eyes, they're brand new. They will become deeper...awesome. No matter how I have become accustomed measuring time, I'm at least grateful that I have been given it...that and the ability to remove myself and my children from a situation, recognizing there might be witnesses...Harvetville Farms, here we come!!
Sunday, September 15, 2013
...what about a paper mache ax?
...can you feel that? You are no longer sweating in places that are too gross to mention. Your windows are open and breezes are crisp. You are noticing it getting dark a tad earlier. You are grabbing for extra blankets in the middle of the night...and if you are like me, you are now suddenly interesting in making...soup? Fall is upon us, officially a week away, and I can't wait. We have always had a love affair, Fall and I...I'm grateful for this feeling again. I was worried I might not feel it...
I am so glad I live in the Midwest. I'm not sure I could handle living somewhere that the seasons don't really visibly change. I think it must be some sort of mental thing for me. However, crazy runs rampant in this house, because we all go a little weak in the knees for this season...we have decorations, special recipes, books (I told you, there's a slight obsession here). I've slowly started pulling them out. Last Sunday, when it was 100 degrees out, I had had it! I was looking for anything to get my mind off of the fact that it had been a long hot couple of weeks. So, Nora and I decorated the front porch. Pumpkins, lights, fall wreathes- I'm sure the people across the street already know I'm certifiable, they are waiting for me to wear my underwear on top of my clothes to call the authorities...at least I hope.
This change in the air, change in the temperature, change in the psyche...it's sort of something this house thrives on. When one season ends, you're ready to start fresh, change some things around and have new fun to look forward to. I have had a lot of wonderful experiences in the Fall, it has also given me a fair share of heartbreak. I look at the change in seasons as nature's Prozac. I feel like this periodic change also makes me realize how very blessed I am. I am blessed to be able to find the beauty in the changes going on around me. I am blessed to see my children become thrilled at the notion of pumpkin muffins, hot chocolate, visiting pumpkin patches and snuggling under blankets. While my children know how to push buttons, they are these unbelievable little people who have been through so much, but are able to laugh, love, and have fun. I was thinking to myself tonight, I have it pretty easy. When it's bed time, that's it. No hour long arguments. No kicking and screaming. No stalling....and it's early. It's like they know, "...listen up crew, Mommy is about to loose her s***, so it's gettin' time..."...and once again, I am blessed.
We still have a tub of Fall-Fun to bring up from the basement. I've given a September 30th mandate on Halloween costume decisions. If any one changes their mind after that, they are sentenced to a ghost costume. I've already been asked if we could make a paper mache ax...what? It would also be nice if someone was alerted that I not only do not know how to sew, I do not work or have ever worked for a film prop department...just a little FYI. Fall...it's madness, it's beautiful, it's curative, it's my family, and I love it!
I am so glad I live in the Midwest. I'm not sure I could handle living somewhere that the seasons don't really visibly change. I think it must be some sort of mental thing for me. However, crazy runs rampant in this house, because we all go a little weak in the knees for this season...we have decorations, special recipes, books (I told you, there's a slight obsession here). I've slowly started pulling them out. Last Sunday, when it was 100 degrees out, I had had it! I was looking for anything to get my mind off of the fact that it had been a long hot couple of weeks. So, Nora and I decorated the front porch. Pumpkins, lights, fall wreathes- I'm sure the people across the street already know I'm certifiable, they are waiting for me to wear my underwear on top of my clothes to call the authorities...at least I hope.
This change in the air, change in the temperature, change in the psyche...it's sort of something this house thrives on. When one season ends, you're ready to start fresh, change some things around and have new fun to look forward to. I have had a lot of wonderful experiences in the Fall, it has also given me a fair share of heartbreak. I look at the change in seasons as nature's Prozac. I feel like this periodic change also makes me realize how very blessed I am. I am blessed to be able to find the beauty in the changes going on around me. I am blessed to see my children become thrilled at the notion of pumpkin muffins, hot chocolate, visiting pumpkin patches and snuggling under blankets. While my children know how to push buttons, they are these unbelievable little people who have been through so much, but are able to laugh, love, and have fun. I was thinking to myself tonight, I have it pretty easy. When it's bed time, that's it. No hour long arguments. No kicking and screaming. No stalling....and it's early. It's like they know, "...listen up crew, Mommy is about to loose her s***, so it's gettin' time..."...and once again, I am blessed.
We still have a tub of Fall-Fun to bring up from the basement. I've given a September 30th mandate on Halloween costume decisions. If any one changes their mind after that, they are sentenced to a ghost costume. I've already been asked if we could make a paper mache ax...what? It would also be nice if someone was alerted that I not only do not know how to sew, I do not work or have ever worked for a film prop department...just a little FYI. Fall...it's madness, it's beautiful, it's curative, it's my family, and I love it!
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