Fright Night

OK, I'm just going to come out and admit it. I am a Halloween party pooper. I wasn't very good at it with my oldest (special thanks to our church at the time for hosting a costume party alternative), and now that I get a second chance I find that I'm still not good at it. I have tried to jump in on the fun, I really have. I like costumes and costume parties and playing dress up - this summer Paul and I played Captain America and Super Mom (my own made up superhero) regularly, and in seventh grade Sam won the Disney day spirit week award for her rendition of the Mad Hatter. I like candy, if not for my kids then for me. I like my neighbors. There are so many things to like about this "holiday".

But I just cannot. I CANNOT.

I tried. I really did. We took Paul trick-or-treating through the zoo, with its fun characters, animals (although most were inside for the evening), candy and cutely costumed kids. He walked the entire time (hoorah, anxiety free!) and enjoyed getting candy, but overall seemed to think the entire thing was rather bizarre. We also skipped Saturday soccer for the neighborhood costume parade. Ditto above on the walking, candy and bizzareness.

Our Transformer - more than meets the eye!

According to the Chicago Tribune, those who opt out of the harmless fun of this day are lame, lame, lame. Whatever. Let me tell you what I hate about the harmless fun of this day:

• Becoming the candy police. When people give my kids candy, they have the mistaken belief that it is THEIR candy to eat whenever and wherever they want. "Gimme my candy!" We're working on a few things over here that have to do with who's the boss, showing respect and self-control, and I don't appreciate a 40 pound bag of candy attempting to usurp my authority.
• The craziness of candy. Candy contains food dye, sugar, its evil twin high fructose corn syrup and preservatives. Research shows no conclusive evidence that these substances CAUSE spazz-outedness. HOWEVER, several studies (as well as our own personal experience) indicate a close and personal relationship between candy and craziness. Paul tolerates sugar and processed foods much less effectively than his has-obviously-built-up-a-tolerance older sister. Do we need any more crazy in our house? No, no we do not.
• The ethical dilemma of chocolate. I cannot even tell you how much angst Hershey kisses cause me. Because I love Hershey kisses. And yet there is a significant amount of research that indicates that children are working in forced labor conditions on the cocoa farms that supply most American chocolate manufacturers. Somewhere in the Ivory Coast a destitute family sold their child to a cocoa farm trafficker where that child will work fourteen hours a day in return for a cup of rice just so I can enjoy a candy bar. I CANNOT EVEN BEAR IT! So we buy chocolate believed to be slavery free. But what about the Nestle crunch that ends up in the trick-or-treat bag? Can I eat it and NOT be haunted by the images of pain on a little brown face?
• Sensory overload. Trick-or-treat at the zoo and the neighborhood parade offered about as much sensory input as Paul (and I) can handle. Kids from hard places struggle with sensory overload, and the sights, smells, sounds, scariness and general mayhem of Halloween put their systems on full alert. In order to heal, to attach, to grow, my guy needs simplicity and familiarity, Dr. Karen Purvis says so. How can I listen to her gentle, soothing, authoritative voice without wanting to give everything that I am and everything that I have to nurturing my child's need for simplicity, safety, nurture?
• The very real trauma of death. Several weeks ago my daughter's leopard gecko died tragically and unexpectedly. We buried sweet baby Norbert. Subsequent bedtime conversations with my son processed Norbert's death, his burial, what would happen to Norbert's body, and what would happen to Norbert's soul. (Theology 101 - lizards who love Jesus go to Heaven. The end.) But not only did we process Norbert's death. Because my son spent formative years in a place where death is a frequent visitor, we also processed the deaths of a couple of his agemates. What happened to their bodies? What happened to their souls? Did they go up (heaven) or down (hell)? It was actually very therapeutic. Until our NEIGHBOR put SKELETONS in her YARD! And also a Devil. And also the specter of Death. Suddenly nighttime conversations returned to the lizard - would his bones pop up in the yard?; and his friends - would their bones pop out of the ground? Why didn't they stay in heaven? Was the devil gonna get 'em and take 'em down? Harmless fun? Not so much.

So, lame or not, we're opting out. We're skipping trick-or-treat. Instead we told Paul that our Halloween tradition is to eat dinner in the basement, complete with fair trade chocolate and organic suckers (deliciously sweet but preservative and dye free), then we're going to play games and watch a movie. He seemed skeptical as this didn't sound exactly like his friends' rendition of the holiday, but at the same time thinks that sounds pretty fun. A movie on a school night? Wahoo!

Some day maybe we'll start a new tradition and serve others on Halloween night. But this year we're aiming for family simplicity, nurture and fun.