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There’s Nothing Like Halloween To…

Date: November 1, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman

“Charlie Brown is the one person I identify with. C.B. is such a loser. He wasn’t even the star of his own Halloween special.” (Chris Rock)

There’s nothing like Halloween to…make you feel like a loser.

That’s how I felt last night anyway. I’m past the Ponzi scheme, past the divorce, past the complete world and life change, etc…but as I sat home alone on Halloween for the first time in my life and passed out candy to trick-or-treaters, I think I was was a little sad not to be “the star” of Halloween this year.

Every other year since becoming a mother I’ve planned the costumes, purchased the candy, made a festive dinner, and taken my children trick-or-treating. This year my oldest was at college; my daughter was working at Cold Stone; and my husband took my two youngest trick-or-treating at their request. I don’t know if it was being home alone on Halloween night for the very first time in my life or if it was the result of all the chocolate I ate (you know, the low that comes on the heels of a sugar high from eating WAY too much candy!) but I some serious orange and black nostalgia.

I missed my dad, who always took my siblings and me trick-or-treating as children. Those thoughts led to nostalgia for the carefree, innocent days of childhood.

Then I missed the Halloweens I’ve celebrated as a mother. Those thoughts made me miss my old life, just a little bit.

And then THOSE thoughts made me realize 2011 was my 18th Halloween as a mother! A milestone of sorts. And I realized: I’m not just a Halloween loser, I’m a middle-aged Halloween loser! Aaaauuggghhh! (Isn’t that what Charlie Brown always said?)

I remembered my first Halloween as a mother, 1993—my cute six-month-old baby, dressed like a clown, crawling to the trick-or-treat candy bowl and helping himself to lollipops. He didn’t know what to do with them at that age, but he loved the crinkly sounds the wrappers made! Skinny little Dum-Dum sticks grasped tightly and awkwardly in chubby baby fingers and tight baby fists. I’ll never forget that.

Halloween, and life, was very different then. In 1993, I had the world by the tail and thought my biggest challenge was going to be my attempt at motherhood, trying to be a good mother to my children; I had NO IDEA all that life would deliver to my door, and that not all of it would be as welcome as the continuous “ding’dong” of a doorbell on Halloween night.

I guess life is like that for all of us, huh?

Well, that baby clown is grown and gone. And there I was, home alone, crying as I passed out candy to trick-or-treaters, thinking about that, how fast the past 18 years have gone and all that my family has lived through.

Rest assured, however, that grown baby clown did nothing of the sort. Nostaliga? Heck no!  He was too busy making the rounds at university Halloween dances this year, dressed as a giant Whoopee Cushion, solo dancing on stages around BYU’s campus, performing some awe-inspiring, “shuffle” dance moves that are currently all the rage. I confess, picturing a giant Whoopee Cushion busting dance moves to which college crowds gathered around to watch wiped away some of my melancholy—as did the realization that I have only myself to blame.

I mean, what do you get when you use, as a disciplinary consequence, dance parties in the kitchen? Worse, what do you get when you make your children dance to the song of your choice if they misbehave…and if you make THEM watch YOU dance if they’ve been really, really bad?

Ironically, a pretty well-behaved mostly grown up Whoopee Cushion. With some pretty excellent dance moves.

“Whoopee Cushion (noun): a type of cusion or pillow used as a practical joke that when sat upon, produces a loud noise resembling flatulence.” (Dictionary.com)

An Aside: Not So Bad

Date: June 14, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

Bachelor #1 suggested we go to a Halloween party/dance and that we go as a “couple” in matching costumes. His idea? He dress as Clark Kent, and I go as Lois Lane. Lois Lane?

Although I have one sister who lives Halloween practically all year long, and my other sister is an artist and creates amazing new costumes every year, I’ve never been that way. I’m not super creative when it comes to Halloween. I wasn’t even as a kid. I preferred to be a witch or a gypsy, something easy, and I was fine with that. It worked for me. Didn’t require a lot of thought or advance planning, and I’ve always liked the color black. (It worked so well, I even won a costume contest at my church halloween party in high school: “Sexiest Witch” or something like that–I didn’t even know churches gave awards in that category. However, I missed experiencing it in person, because I left in the middle of the party to go to a haunted house with a boy. When we returned to the party, I was surprised when my mom handed me my prize!)

Since I was living a very unexpected life, and a single life anyway, I agreed to be Lois Lane. I was living totally out of my comfort zone every minute of every day as it was. What was a mere Halloween challenge? But how to be Lois Lane? I didn’t have a clue.

Thanks goodness I work in marketing, with clever and creative younger men. I showed up at work one day, told them my dilemma, and within minutes not only had they googled Lois Lane and told me what to wear, they’d printed off some sample pictures I could copy my look from! (If I haven’t said it enough, I absolutely love the men I work with.)

So I was off to transform myself into Lois Lane. It was quite a change from my usual as Lois Lane had dark hair. So I found a dark wig and prepared other Lois Lane essentials…but first, had to be in charge of my congregation’s trunk or treat Halloween party–after working in another city all day. (Halloween 2009 was my most hectic, to say the least!)

I worked all day, drove home from work, helped round up my children and their costumes, my trunk or treat candy, my food assignments for the church party dinner, and headed to the church an hour early to decorate and get it ready. I did the church party for two hours and left at 8 p.m. to transform myself into Lois Lane. In the middle of my costume preparations, I had to run pick up my daughter from dance rehearsal so she could babysit for me. It was 25 minutes, roundtrip, I wasn’t completely transformed yet, and Bachelor #1 was due to arrive in 30 minutes. Racing to the dance studio, I hit road construction. (More delays.)

My heart and my mind were racing. (Like I said, I had a lot going on that night.) Finally, I was almost there. One last stoplight to wait through and I’d be at the dance studio, picking up my daughter, and heading home. The light turned green, I drove through the intersection, and the next thing I knew the lights of a policeman were flashing in my rear-view mirror. I couldn’t figure out who he was after, so I pulled over to get out of the way. To my surprise, he pulled up behind me and came to my car.

He asked if I knew why he had pulled me over.

I was stunned. Until that moment, I hadn’t realized he was after me! Oops.

I said I honestly had no idea. He told me I was driving without my lights on. WHAT? I felt like the biggest idiot. I’ve never been that technologically talented, or very good with cars, but I did think I knew how to turn the lights on. And according to my understanding of the car I’d been driving for the past few months, the lights were on. I tried to explain that to the policeman. He had me turn the lights on, I thought I was turning the lights on, then he would check the front of my car and tell me they weren’t on. (Can you imagine what an intelligent blonde he would have thought I was? Thank goodness I was wearing a dark wig! lol)

I was embarrassed and felt quite dumb. I explained I was newly single, and clueless about cars, and would he mind showing me how to turn the lights on in my car? (Wasn’t that lovely to have to ask when you’ve been driving and turning car lights on for 26 years without a problem–until you get divorced?) He laughed, fiddled around with the light switches and finally said, “Actually, I think BOTH of your light bulbs must be burned out, because I think your lights ARE on.” Whew. What a relief to know I had known how to turn my car lights on!

He then told me he’d pulled me over for another reason too. He said I’d sat through a very long red light, and then simply drove through the intersection when the green turn arrow turned green! A giant oops. I’d had no idea I’d done that. My mind must have been elsewhere–like on all of the things I had to rush to finish before “Superman” arrived. And there I sat feeling like an even bigger idiot in my Halloween costume–dressed as Lois Lane. I wondered what the cop was thinking. I soon found out.

He asked for my license and registration. I was getting a ticket. But as soon as I reached for my license and registration, I knew I was getting a lot more than that. I was pretty sure I was heading to jail!

It was a new car (to me), with temporary tags, so I had no registration yet. I didn’t remember that until the cop asked for it. I explained that situation–about buying the car in Colorado, moving to Utah, the paperwork getting delayed in Colorado, so Utah couldn’t issue my license plates yet, etc… He let that go, and asked, again, to see my driver’s license. I reached for my purse to get my driver’s license. And discovered in my rush, in the hectic frenzy of the night, I’d left the house without it. The cop told me he could look it up. But that’s when I realized I had another problem: as I’d recently moved to Utah, I hadn’t changed my Colorado driver’s license to Utah yet! I asked if he could look up a license in another state–Colorado–and explained that whole situation to the policeman. I’m not sure what he was thinking as he looked at me. I couldn’t tell if he was trying not to laugh or if he was reaching for the handcuffs. Thankfully, instead he looked at me, shook his head, and said, “Tell me, do you at least have insurance on your car?”

Finally, a question I could answer with proof! I was mortified that I was looking so incapable and incompetent (and stupid) but I handed the insurance card over to the cop and he walked away. I sat there in the dark, in a panic, that not only was I totally late and looking like a lunatic, but that I was going to get a ticket and would never be able to afford car insurance after that! I started feeling bleak indeed. Waiting that terrible wait (although thanks to the unexpected events of 2009, waiting for the ticket verdict wasn’t as terrible as it could have been as I’d had a few perspective-altering experiences much larger than that in 2009, but I was panicked about the cost of a ticket and the impact it would have on my insurance rates) I started feeling a bit bad for myself. I was doing all I could to support my family and be a good employee, I was serving my church, I was trying to get everyone to everything all by myself (and that night have a little fun myself) and now this. A traffic ticket as my reward.

The policeman returned to my car, smiled, told me to be careful and have a safe night. No ticket. I was one fortunate (and blessed) single mom that night.

I drove carefully away, in the dark, without headlights, picked up my daughter, finally got home and amazingly was ready just in time for Clark Kent!

We had a great time that Halloween. But what I remember most about that night was that I was starting to see my new and unexpected life was…not so bad.

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