All Hallow's Eve Blues

Halloween does to me what Christmas does to most other single people. I used to love Halloween. I would dress up and roam the streets of our small Idaho town for hours with my siblings and friends. My mom would make "spooky" foods, play scary music, and Dad would tell us the lamest ghost stories. We would drag home with pillowcases loaded with candy that would mysteriously disappear by the handful over the next few nights.

The year I lived in San Diego was the first time I realized that Halloween had become my "depressed" holiday. I opened the door to see 5 adorable children dressed in the year's popular cartoon characters. As I handed over the candy, I watched the mom remind them to say thank you. My heart dropped to my knees. That was supposed to be me.

I spent my entire child and young adulthood steeped in parenting literature. No one wanted the "Mormon dream" more than I did. I was supposed to go to college, meet my husband, and have my first baby before either of us had enough credits for early registration. By the time those kids knocked on my door, I should have been out with my own 3 kids and one on the way, reliving those precious childhood memories through the eyes of my own offspring.

But that's not my life. In my life, I go to work. I come home. I go to a party. I return home. There are no children waiting for me and no husband lamenting that we're abandoning Monday night football for candy-collecting and spider hotdogs. Despite the fact that my real life is filled with joy and success, I still feel disappointment over not living that lost life.

I spent my Halloween listening to Annie Lennox Thousand Beautiful Things.

Every day I write the list
Of reasons why I still believe they do exist
(a thousand beautiful things)
And even though it's hard to see
The glass is full and not half empty

With all those maudlin thoughts, I wasn't anticipating fun at Nay's Weiners and Wigs party, but my friends replaced my inscrutable expression with a true grin after only a few moments, when the apparently innocent Roan decided to dress as the lead singer of KISS and pose for pictures. Her hands moved from Aloha to I Love You to Live Long and Prosper before finally ending up at the Knights in Satan's Service. We ate homemade corn dogs, fries, and too much cheap candy. Then we laughed more at Roan attempting to be bad in that silly mask. While they don't replace the role of family, my friends are pretty amazing.

Tomorrow I start Christmas music, which is something I look forward to all year long. But for those of you who feel the blues when the sounds of Andy Williams fill the air, I'm so sorry. Sometimes life just sucks, no matter how good it is to us.

Oh - and because it needs to be said, thanks to Mrs. Charlie and Cate for never-ending support during my moods. You girls rock the free world.