My Purple Hayes Daze

In anticipation of Halloween this year, I agonized over whether or not to go through the effort of dressing Hayes in a costume that would be worn for all of about two hours.  I wouldn’t think twice about the money spent and the effort made if he were more experienced, or at least a four-year old.  But he’s three and doesn’t even know what Halloween is.  Furthermore, the sole festivity of the weekend is a small Halloween gathering that was organized at the last minute by a handful of very good friends.

I figured this would be the perfect time to ease Hayes into the Halloween spirit.  This year, we could check out the trick-or-treat scene, discuss all the cool costumes, eat candy, and be ready for next year.  And later in the evening, we could meet our friends for some laid back version of a Halloween party.  Perfect.

Well, my ingenious plan was thwarted when I was told not to show up without a costume.  And herein lies my dilemma.  I respect the stipulation, but I’m failing miserably at this.  I’m trying to make this Halloween a low-key intro for Hayes.  But I’m finding out that this holiday is one that you either fully commit to or you don’t.  There is no in-between.

So I’ve been thinking…

Happy Halloween to all of you mommies out there who know how to do it right.

One cool thing about being a mom is reliving classic childhood moments and making them extra special the second time around just for your kid.

And consequently, one of the not-so-cool things about being a mom is coming to terms with the fact that your kid might not feeling that classic childhood moment you tried so hard to make special.

Yesterday, I took Hayes to the Big Apple Circus.  Rewind.  A friend told me she had four tickets for the Wednesday show.  So, I invited my friend Allison and her daughter Satya to make it extra special.  It was a huge coordination effort, but we arrived relatively on time.  Fast forward.  We entered the tent at Lincoln Center and I handed over the four tickets.  That’s when it was pointed out to me that our tickets were for Tuesday, October 28th.  Yikes!  This was supposed to be special.

Thankfully, the Big Apple Circus was nice enough to let us in anyway–after they informed us that the show was an abbreviated one, especially for the hearing impaired.  Yikes!  I wasn’t sure what that meant.  but we found out that it’s like any other show–only quieter.

We were escorted to our seats during the flying trapeze act.  It was amazing.  And it was classic.  Just like the circus ought to be.  Hayes was totally mesmerized.  And I felt pretty good about the special moment.  That is, until the flying trapeze act ended and all the bright lights went off and the house lights went down.  That’s when Hayes freaked out, starting bawling and was totally inconsolable for the rest of the show.  He said he didn’t like the circus and asked if it was time to go home yet after every single act.

So much for the special moment.

I cannot believe I got guilted into dressing up for Halloween this year, after all the smack I have talked.

Just when I had gotten used to saying “oh, we’re not doing Halloweeen this year,” had convinced Hayes that we were merely observing Halloween this time around, (yes, he was OK with it), and had resigned myself to being a party pooper for the very last time, I got a call from my dear friend Allison who told me that Hayes and I could not come to her holiday party this year if we were not in costume.

And because I love Allison, I found myself at Target at 9PM searching for a suitable Halloween costume for Hayes.  The pickings were way slim.  All they had left were a few random pieces of a hideous pirate costume.  (As much as I’m not feeling the spirit of All Hallows Eve, I’m not about to let my kid get caught in a totally lame costume).  So I headed for Party City, where chaos ensued.  It was a madhouse…even at 10PM!  Their selection was more promising than Target’s.  However, I didn’t find the perfect costume until I was exhausted and ready to walk out the door.  It was a size 4 batman suit complete with headpiece, bulging muscle chest, cape, and boots.  My face lit up.  And so did Hayes’s.

I took it to the register to ring it up.  But when the sales lady told me it cost $32.50 I was reminded of why It’s OK to prolong celebrating Halloween for as long as possible.  I’m having a hard time justifying a $33 costume that will be worn for one night by a three year old who doesn’t even understand what’s going on.  So I put Batman back on the shelf and made Hayes be OK with it.

But it ain’t over yet.  There is still Allison to contend with.

Joan Crawford and I share the same birth date.  So, we’re both fabulous Aries.  But that’s not all we have in common.  Today, for a brief moment, I totally channeled her.

For the past few months, I’ve been studying for a very important test.  And since realizing exactly how long it has been since I have taken a test–a timed test, to be exact–I’ve been feeling no less than completely anxious…and just plain old.

In order to really buckle down and study like the valedictorian I should have been, I decided to do the bulk of my studying while Hayes was away at school today.  Consequently, that meant no food and no rest for me.  (Not the smartest decision I made today).  So, by the time I arrived home from picking Hayes up from school, I was totally irritable from a long day of studying and starving.  Not to mention, I was cold and wet.  Because the weather in NYC was particularly frightful today.

Of course, this meant nothing to Hayes, who, at three-years old, doesn’t understand the interconnectedness of physiology and social etiquette, and how important it is to give your mother a moment when she’s stressed out.  (And quite frankly, because I’m mom, he probably wouldn’t care less even if he understood it perfectly).  Because all he wants in life is my undivided attention–at all times.  And normally, he gets it.

But today, just before dinner was finally done and soon to be in my famished belly, I found myself giving Hayes the wild eye and saying, “Play…with…toys!”  And for a moment, I was Mommy Dearest.  And, yes, the rage ended there.  So no need to call child protective services.

It sounds like a bunch of crap.  But apparently it’s a true story:

Australian couple Steve and Jessica Whyte took their family to a hotel, that was advertised as family-friendly, to watch a rugby match.  Shortly after Steve complained to hotel staff about not being able to watch the match as promised, the family ordered some ice cream.

Jessica had a spoon of ice cream in her mouth when the stench of fecal matter burned her nostrils.  She immediately spat the “ice cream” into a napkin that was later tested in a lab.  Lab results confirmed that the “ice cream” did indeed have an offensive odor and the physical properties similar to human excrement.

Now, some would find the statement from the hotel calling the crap allegations “suspicious” the funniest aspect of the story.  But I think the best part of all is that mother Jessica reported that the “ice cream” experience has shaken her to the point where she is totally uneasy wiping their youngest child’s behind these days.

Poop is a traumatic enough to the naked eye (even if it’s your own child you’re dealing with).  Can you even imagine getting the other senses involved with the excrement of a total stranger?  Whoa!  Poor Jessica.  (Ha)!

Alright, let’s get back to the Halloween issue and put an end to it once and for all.

You all know by now that I am not up for the whole costume-thing (call me crazy, call me lazy, I don’t care), even though I’m totally up for all the other Halloween festivities (minus that trick-or-treat nonsense).

Well, some of you will be glad to know that yesterday, I totally entertained the idea of picking up a Halloween costume for my dear boy.  But when it occurred to me that I really don’t want Hayes wearing a plastic piece of junk Halloween costume after all, no matter how cool it looks (go ahead, call me a snob, because I really don’t care), I actually thought about making him a costume from scratch…like with my hands, and scissors, and paint and whatever else it takes to make a cool homemade Halloween costume that kids love…(My worse nightmare almost came true).

But today, I had an awakening.  I remembered that my boy is a real thinker.  An analyzer.  A rationalizer.  So I decided I would reason with him.  I sat him down and told him that at Halloween time we see lots of boys and girls his age dressed up in costumes.  (Of course saying that made him want a costume too–specifically Iron Man).  But that’s when I told him that this year, we were just going to observe Halloween.  I explained that this year, we’re going to look at all the costumes and decide which ones we like and which ones we don’t like so that next year we can participate in Halloween, costumes and all.  And, of course, he said, “OK,” just like I knew he would.

That’s my boy!

The end… (Whew)!

I know you’ve heard all about it by now.  And everyone and their mama has already put in their two cents about it.  But since I’m a mom and you haven’t heard my two cents about it–and, of course, since I have a blog–here’s what I have to say about Jamie Lynn Spears’ friend denying rumors that Spears is pregnant again by stating that “if you weren’t having sex at sixteen, it probably means you were very unattractive.”

Really?

Seriously?

For real?

She actually said that?

(Ahem)…  Well, statistically she’s wrong.

According to the most recent data on teen sexual activity, nearly half (48%) of all U.S. high school students report ever having had sexual intercourse.  And yes, that’s a lot of sixteen-year-old’s who admit to having done the nasty at least once.  However, since the age of puberty in girls is approximately somewhere between 9-years of age and 14-years of age, and 10-years of age to 17-years of age in boys (give or take a few years), that would mean that there are quite a few sixteen-year-old’s out there doing the do who aren’t all that cute yet.  Statistically speaking, of course.

The truth is there is a whole gang of swag slaughtering changes we go through to become mature adults in life, (i.e., hormonal changes, acne, body odor, voice changes, etc).  But I guess Jamie Lynn Spears’ friend’s interior has yet to catch up with her exterior.

Almost makes you wish the dumb girl’s kid grows up to make her eat those words one day.

Oooh!  I just thought of something else to add to my what I want to be when I grow up list.  I have always wanted to be a lady who lunches.  You know, the lady who makes plans to meet friends in the middle of the day in the middle of the week without compromising anything else in the week, like her job.

This weekend, I got a call from a friend and fellow mommy who shares my luxurious aspiration.  We decided to give ourselves exactly what we deserve.  We chose to lunch at a dessert bar!  (Totally decadent).  But I’m vegan and consider passing up a good vegan dessert complete foolery.  Vegan desserts are so far and few between, I gotta take them whenever I can get them.  And I’m teaching Hayes to do the same.  So, we brought the kids.  (Totally abstemious).

But for the better part of the afternoon, my good friend and I indulged in tasty little bits dipped in yummy green tea frosting and sipped sweet mimosas from delicate glasses.  We were almost just like ladies who lunch…except that we could not have managed to meet one another had it not been a Saturday.  And then, of course, there was the kid-factor.

Perhaps this wish requires some practice to make it come true.

Everyday for the next week is study day for me.  The test I’m studying for requires me to do things I have not done since college (like ignore everyone around me so that I can stay up way too late and fall asleep with my study materials in my lap).  And I thought I had done a good job to prepare Hayes for the silent treatment I am forced to give him right now.  But today I had to remind him for the umpteenth time to play by himself just long enough for me to finish a chapter.  So, yes, I was a little testy–to which Hayes replied that he “understands my frustration.”

My first thought was who in the world taught my child that annoying pseudo touchy-feely phrase that is said to make people feel better when, in fact, it sounds condescending, and a little patronizing–even coming from the mouth of an innocent three year old… Must be someone at Montessori.

Then I thought no, no one at his school could be that cheesy.  He must have heard it on TV…  Maybe it was a commercial.

Finally, I decided to ask him where he got that annoying phrase from.

I was speechless when he told me he got it from me…!

Woah!  Am I really that cheesy?

Apparently I am.

Today, Hayes was trying hard to convince me of his big boy status.  What prompted him to do so was the fact that our heads were almost the exact same height when he stood next to me on the bed.  Of course, the difference is that my feet were on the ground and his were not.  When I tried to explain this would not happen if he were standing on the floor because he is only three, he switched strategies and said that he IS big because he’s almost four.  Since there was clearly no way of reasoning with him, I considered the discussion closed.  But he began explaining that soon he will be four and then he will be five and then six and then seven (he stopped at thirteen), insinuating that he is big now, but he will get bigger and bigger as time goes on.

That’s when I got sad with the thought that my three year old will never be three years old again.  He will, in fact, only get bigger and bigger and more complicated–in that I’m-a-big-boy-now way that will make me miss these simple days.

So I told him that when he turns four, I will miss him.  And he told me that he will miss me too.

When his father walked into the room, Hayes told him he will miss him too.

Not knowing what conversation he had walked into, his father assured him that he would be missed too.

And all of a sudden Hayes began to cry.  It wasn’t just a little cry.  He cried a sad, deep, belly cry with big crocodile tears.

We were totally confused.  When we asked him why the tears Hayes told us that he didn’t want to turn four.

And that’s when I knew for sure that things will never be as simple as they are today.