Living Happily Ever After
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Blog Articles

The Power of a Cape and a Hairdo

Date: November 9, 2012  Author: Andrea Merriman

My youngest is the most indecisive trick-or-treater I’ve ever known. Every year it’s an ordeal to get him to commit to what he wants to be for Halloween. Every year he assures me his decision is final. And every year he changes his mind at the last minute and ends up being something different.

Funny thing, though, his approach usually works out quite well for him. Like the year he scrapped his real costume on our way out the door to a party and instead wore an old puppy costume from the dress up box…and ended up winning the costume contest and a really nice prize that went with it!

This year was no different.

He wore his “real” costume, a skeleton, the day before Halloween to his 1st grade choir concert and that was enough for him to decide he was going to be something else the next day: a superhero. “Which one?” I asked, and he didn’t hesitate a moment before responding, “I’ll just wear my ‘J’ cape.”

Superjake.

So he went as himself to school the next day, in ordinary clothing underneath his superhero cape, his hair three different, dazzling and bright superhero colors—blue, purple and green! And of course, by the time it was time to go trick-or-treating that night, he was wearing a different costume again…an old costume from the dress up drawer…another puppy.

Watching Superjake, just being himself at a time not many people were, inspired me. And it got me remembering, again, that everyone has the capacity to be a hero. We can do anything. We can endure and triumph over everything, including our challenges; the unexpected life.

“What I do is based on powers we all have inside us, the ability to endure, the ability to love, to carry on, to make the best of what we have—and you don’t have to be a ‘Superman’ to do it.” (Christopher Reeve)

It just adds to the viewing pleasure of others if we do it wearing a cape…and superhero hair. Never underestimate the power of a hairdo.

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)