Cheap Therapy

I have a phobia. Okay, actually I have several, but I'm only going to talk about one of them. It's something that's been bothering me for a long time, and I think it's getting worse every year. Maybe when I see it in writing, I'll realize I'm just being silly and be able to get over. So, really, this is just the cheapskate in me coming out. I don't want to have to fork over big bucks to a therapist. So here goes...

I'm afraid of Halloween. There. I said it. Now, just to be clear, I'm not afraid of witches or zombies or vampires or any of the ghoulish things that might be lurking in the dark. Quite frankly, I don't believe in them. I think what I'm actually afraid of is the possibility of ruining everyone else' excitement by my lack of zest for the occasion.

As a child I quite looked forward to Halloween. I somehow was able to overlook the cold and the dark to enjoy donning one of the silly costumes my mom had in her "tickle trunk" and go trick-or-treating with my friends. But something has happened over the years, to the point that I start to feel nervous about mid October, with the feeling escalating each day, until at last I feel a sense of great relief on November 1. As I've thought about it this past little while, I think I've pinpointed the exact day my feelings for Halloween started to change.

A little over 21 years ago The Mr. and I were blessed with twin sons. When they were first born they slept all the time, so I figured life was still pretty easy. I suppose that is why I agreed to be the MC for the Halloween parade at our daughters' school in just a few short weeks. By the time those few weeks rolled around, these little babies had woken up, demanding all my attention, and I found it ridiculously challenging to get anything accomplished.

The dad who had been the MC the previous year did a really great job - fantastic costume, witty quips, great interaction with the audience. He was a tough act to follow. Not wanting to disappoint, I had put a lot of pressure on myself to be just as entertaining as he was. That was a bad idea. After all, he wasn't breastfeeding twins. 24 HOURS A DAY!!

October 31st rolled around, and things weren't going well. The boys were fussy, and not eating properly, I barely got the girls out the door with a semblance of a costume, I hadn't had a chance to get in the shower. In days. I still hadn't finished my witty poems that I was writing about several of the staff and students to fill the silence as they marched through the gym. It was time to leave for the school even though the babies hadn't finished eating (strike one), and my costume wasn't complete (strike two), and my poems weren't finished (strike three).

Arriving at the school a few minutes late, my babies were foisted upon some previously designated volunteers, and I rushed into the gym. All eyes were upon me as I took my place. I knew what they were thinking: "Too bad her costume's not nearly as good as Mr. Mantika's from last year." I stumbled through my poems (and then proceeded to make up more on the spot when I ran out), all the while reading their thoughts: "I wonder why they asked her to be the MC. She's not nearly as clever as Mr. Mantika."

Thankfully, the program was over. I quickly left to pick up my (screaming) babies who were needing to eat, and then made a quick get-a-way, disappointed with my poor performance. Having their needs met, I put the boys - and myself - down for a well-deserved nap. That was short lived, however, when I realized that in all my confusion the last few days I had forgotten to purchase any Halloween candy. I woke the boys to put them in the stroller (the car was in the repair shop) and race to the store before the girls got home from school. Now, don't ask me how this happened, but there was absolutely no candy left. None! I decided I would have to make Halloween cookies to pass out. It was a lot of work, but after several hours, I got them done and individually wrapped, and they looked really cute! Now, I know what you're thinking, but honestly, it didn't even cross my mind. After all this was 21 years ago.

Well, it was time for the trick-or-treating to start, the babies were tired of being neglected, and I was still trying to get supper on the table. The girls were anxious to leave the house, but I was determined they had to eat something healthy before all that sugar. Finally, looking so cute in their "witch" and "businessman" costumes, they started out on their own (yeah, yeah, I know. But again, this was 21 years ago, in a small town, where we knew all our neighbors). Soon they came home visibly upset. It turns out one of our neighbors had scolded Daughter #1 because she was wearing a witch costume, and she "shouldn't be worshipping the devil and all his forms of evil". So instead of giving them candy, the lady gave them little cards with bible verses printed on them. Needless to say they weren't in the mood to do anymore trick-or-treating. And then to make matters worse, one of the kids who came trick-or-treating to our house looked at the cookies, and said "Everyone's just going to throw those in the garbage, you know. We're not supposed to accept things that don't come from the store." I turned away quickly so she wouldn't see me crying. All in all, it was a horrible day.

So, there it is. I really do think that was the beginning of my resentment towards Halloween. I feel like I let everyone down that fateful day. And I kind of think that's why I've dreaded it ever since.

I haven't bought any Halloween candy yet this year, and October 31 is only two days away. Interestingly, I think writing this down really has been theraputic. I should probably go to the store right away.

Dixie