Thursday, November 15, 2007

November 1, 2007









After admitting to my Halloween obsessions and shortcomings in the last post, I thought I'd share a few more Halloween thoughts. First, I figured you might want to gander at my gaggle of kids. Well, even if you could care less, I suppose I'm forcing you to gander. I'm proud, they're cute -its my site! Also, here is my Halloween superhouse the night of Trick or Treat. The Jack-o-Lanterns don't show up terribly well, but there were 5 of them.






In addition to my discovery of my total lack of self control, Beggar's Night was also frought with epiphanies. While the occasional epiphany about your own shortcomings can be productive in a self-help sort of fashion...not all intellectual realizations are that life-affirming. As for the slew of them I discovered on Trick or Treat....well, I wish I had more in the positive column.






First, money does not equate to class. In fact, I'm beginning to suspect that certain levels of income actually foster higher incidences of "classless" behavior. We live in a higher middle class neighborhood. We are not one of these people, we are merely renters with the best landlords on the planet. We are, in effect, "fakers" here. The interesting thing, is that I perceive the vast majority of the homes around me to be filled by fakers - but they're fabricating a different facade. Maybe they can truly afford that house, but they then insist on acting as if they have much more money than they do. They live in house AA, while pretending to have the funds and prestige of the multi-million dollar houses AAAA that my hubby works on. In other words, to convince the world that they have more than they do...its all about looks. How the yard looks, how the house looks, how the car looks. There is very little substance here - its just about appearance.






How does lack of substance equate to lack of class? Easy, when you're so busy about how you look, you have exactly no time to consider the fact that there are other people in the world. When you only see your own face in the mirror, not the face of a member of the human race...you forget that you are actually part of something bigger than yourself. You go through life with blinders on to anything but your own agenda, as if the world existed to service you. And that, is how we get to classless.






Examples? You want examples? Are you doubting my integrity? Or, are you painfully curious as to what my neighbors did to garner my distaste? Well, let's see, just where should I begin? How about with the people who cannot be bothered to participate in Beggar's Night? C'mon folks, you don't have to go hog-wild looney like me and buy full-size candy bars. Sweettarts are cheap and the kids still love them. But here, only 1 in 4 houses even participated. And decorations? What?! In my sister's neighborhood, the people buy those fabulous blow-up things, hang lights like Christmas, play music and have firepits going to warm the kiddos. Here? One in ten houses might have a Jack-O-Lantern. Woo hoo. Our house stood out like a glowing shrine to Halloween, and we thought it was pathetically under-decorated. No graveyard, no smoke machine, only 5 pumpkins. What were we thinking? I'm sure most people consider us the tacky trailer neighbors. Hah!






Then there was the wheelchair. Avalon, of course, had to beg in her chariot. For the first few houses, she insisted on getting out and walking from the driveway to the door, but that didn't last long. She tires so easily, that even with the chariot - she would have happily quit after about 30 minutes. (mind you, she stuck it out for the next hour - so sissy didn't get more candy than she did!) So here we are, "rolling" our way through the neighborhood. No biggie in my mind.







Except, people were HEARTLESS. We were forced from the sidewalk more than once - by parents pulling kids in those big plastic wagons. I would say, "Excuse me please.", and they'd look at me, turn their shoulder/back toward me and just stand there. The only way around was to offroad through the grass with the wheelchair. People would let their kids crowd up behind us on someone's walkway to their house, trapping us as the monsters shoved past us (twice) and elbowed us or pushed one of us into the flowerbed. And my personal favorite? People giving candy that were annoyed Avalon couldn't come up onto their porch. The poor thing was made to feel more like a disregarded dog than a child whose legs don't work so well. It was all rather appalling.






But then, there were the Moochers. I have to say, the Moochers honked me off the most. The Moochers did more than ignore a little kid, or not pay attention to how rude their children were behaving. The Moochers actively flaunted their lack of class. They own the top of my Crap List. The Moochers are the people who have kids, (sometimes several) who take the kids around the neighborhood with BOTH parents following - thereby leaving no one at their own house to give out candy. Of course, not everyone with both parents is guilty. There were houses where older siblings (my house) or grandparents gave to beggars. But on our culdesac alone, I can tell you of 7 families that only took - they never gave a thing. Can you believe that?!!!







Like I said in the previous post, we spent years having to "borrow" a neighborhood to Trick or Treat in. I want it to be known, I never did that without "giving" as well. We always took ridiculous amounts of candy to be given out from the house we were originating from. I couldn't have imagined just showing up to take without equally giving. That wasn't even an option. Then here I was, smack in the middle of golfcourse Hades, with people who can easily afford a few bags of candy - and not only did most people not bother, but plenty of them were too busy taking from others to consider giving back anything. In a word...puke.







Thankfully though, not all of the evening's epiphanies were bad. In fact, one of them was quite enlightening. As I trudged house to house, dismayed at the lack of effort or decorations, I began to notice something. Every time a front door would open, the house behind it was immaculate. And I do mean, every time. The floors, tables, family rooms opening before me would be spotless, organized - like something out of a magazine. The first few times, I thought, "Wow! What a great housekeeper. I wish I could be like that." Then, over time, it got a bit depressing. Our own house looked like a tornado passed through minutes before we left. There were toys strewn everywhere, the typical load of laundry (or 4) sitting in the kitchen - waiting its turn, dishes and pans from the entire day, and a sewing machine, fabric, and craft stuff cluttering the dining room. Simply put, our house was in its normal disaster state. I began to find myself "peeking" into the houses, hoping desperately to find someone as messy as me.







What I found was nothing but perfection. Perfect yards, perfect hair, perfect houses. I was "perfectly" disturbed, until I had my best epiphany of the night. Perfection is boring! I don't have time for it! As the girls and I made our way home from the final treck into candydom, we rounded the corner and our house grinned at us, in all of its Halloween glory. That's when it dawned on me. Of course I don't have time to clean - I'm too busy doing ridiculous stuff like this. Who has time to stay perpetually caught up on dishes? Not me. Not when there are 18 totes of Halloween decorations that must be carried up from the basement and lovingly put up. Who has time to keep the dining room picture perfect? Not me. Not when there are costumes to be sewn, and Fall clothes to be altered. Who has time to keep caught up with laundry? Not me. Not when there are Doodlebops to be danced with, Goosebumps marathons to cuddle on the couch and be scared about, and Halloweentown movies to watch over and over. Who has time to be perfect? NOT ME!







I don't have time for perfection. I'm having way too much fun Living. This is an epiphany I can work with. I'm not as sloppy, behind, or pathetic as I thought. I'm simply too hands on. If I would have bought the kids' costumes, not decorated, and never watched a scary movie with a 4 yo cuddled next to me...my house could have been spotless. But I did, I will again, and I'm downright fine with that. Hah! Hey, it only took me until 40 to figure out I'm human, and I can't actually do it all. Who knew?







As for the diet...well, the epiphanies of yesterday, of imminent failure - weren't that far off. I wholeheartedly admit to eating completely out of control. I don't want to think about the thousands of sugar calories I've had. I know I'm in raging diet meltdown at the moment. The problem is, I'm having trouble identifying the deeper reason - and even more trouble figuring out how to stop. Hang in there with me. All is not lost. I am not giving up, I'm just riding a large, painful wave at the moment. As with all hurricanes, this will eventually pass.







Thanks for hanging in with me!





Alicia Hall, the Crazy Cancer Mom, losing weight (I'll get back to it - I promise!) and my mind, to raise awareness of pediatric cancer http://www.crazycancermom.com/





alicia@crazycancermom.com

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Unfortunately I think your assessment of the lack of class is common. Those who have more money tend to forget about the rest of the world while those of us with little rely on each other to help out in a bind. I am so sorry that so many people did not move for Avalon, that is ridiculous. Hopefully I have taught my kids better than that, I sure would be embarrassed if my kid pushed anyone out of the way let alone made someone in a wheelchair move.

The moochers tick me off too. We go to a neighborhood of a friend, and we too bring candy and every year we trade off either Moms or Dads stay at the house and the other group goes with the kids. Every year there are groups that come to this neighborhood and get candy as a family without bringing anything for the rest of the kids.

That is so true! Living takes too much time to have time to keep a perfect house. Right now I can't see my kitchen counters for the dishes, the laundry is piled so high that a small breeze could blow it over (it is clean though), and there are more toys on the floor than in all of Target. Life is too short to spend it cleaning, though I must admit I am trying to get organized for my sanity. It is very slow going though.

Anonymous said...

I agree with you on your ideas about the perfect house! I, too, could have a perfect house - if I never volunteered at my childrens' school, if I never led a Girl Scout troop, if I never let my kids have friends over to play, if I made my kids do their homework and practice piano without any help, if I never took my kids to the library or to see a show or out to play.

Life is all about choices. I sometimes feel a teensy bit jealous when I see someone whose house is perfect, or who has the time and money to go out to dinner and a show with their husband every few weeks. But would I give up my kids for that life? Not in a million years! There's a quote that I love that many people post on their caring bridge sites: "It's not the years in your life that matter, but the life in your years." How true!