Not sure why they’re not rocking Oz’s Mystery Machine….
(Click for a larger image)
I’m not a big enthusiast of the trick-or-treating thing. If you live in Anza you can’t really do it locally, so you have to take your kids to Temecula or Idyllwild or some other town to knock on strangers’ doors for the purpose of collecting enough candy to make your offspring twitchy and irritable for weeks.
But Luke and Elizabeth look forward to it every year, so their dad takes them out for the annual candyfest. I’m good with that; it’s an important (to them) part of their Halloween experience.
When they get older I plan to start getting into the really fun, spooky stuff: Knott’s Scary Farm, Universal Studios Horror Nights; serious Halloween scaries. In the meantime we keep it simple and enjoyable. We’ve unanimously decided to make the Big Horse Corn Maze an annual tradition, so we did that last Friday:
Last year Elizabeth took the lead through the maze; this year Luke said it was his turn. That sounded fair to me, but Elizabeth fussed about it and then said we should split up and race to the exit. Ah, adolescence. So Luke and I went in one direction and Elizabeth headed off in another.
Luke and I had two advantages: one, we had a “passport” that provided clues for finding the right paths. You answer a trivia question at each of the ten stations set up throughout the maze, and correct choices direct you in the correct direction. We’d brought two passports, so Elizabeth could have taken one when we split up, but she said her sense of direction was all she needed.
The other advantage Luke and I had was that Thursday I had looked online at an aerial view of the maze, and had traced out the route visually, so I knew the general shape of the path and which parts of the maze it wound through. We found our way to the exit in pretty good time.
In all honesty, I wouldn’t have been terribly surprised to see Elizabeth waiting for us there. She’s kind of freaky that way sometimes.
But no; we’d gotten there first. So Luke and I headed back into the exit, to meet up with her on her way out. A few twists and turns in, Luke suggested that we split up to look for her. I thought about it, decided that wandering alone and mildly lost through a corn maze was an acceptable level of Halloween spookiness for a 10-year-old, and said okay.
I worked my way backwards through the maze and came out the entrance. I hadn’t found Elizabeth but I expected to see her, and probably Luke, waiting for me near the exit. But the maze attendant said they hadn’t come out yet. So back I dived into the exit, now thoroughly into the spirit of the adventure.
Long story short…we eventually all found each other, a fun time was had by all, and then it was time to move onto the second part of our afternoon: shopping for costume materials.
For the past few Halloweens the kids have made their costumes out of whatever bits and pieces they could scrounge up from what was already on hand. This is because I had neither the money nor the enthusiasm for buying elaborate outfits. But this year they both had specific requests: Elizabeth wanted an Espio The Chameleon costume, and Luke wanted to go as…a scary evil clown.
Elizabeth’s request was no surprise. But they don’t sell Espio costumes, so the plan was to buy the stuff to make one. Magenta pants and top, white gloves, some felt for a mask…this was doable.
The evil clown thing was hilariously out of character for Luke. My sweet, bright, affectionate boy wanted to dress up as the most terrifying thing known to man, and I was immensely looking forward to making that transformation happen.
The only drawback was that I still didn’t have the money for complicated costume-making. But I figured, since Steve was the one who’d be taking them trick-or-treating, it was fair to ask him if he’d like to help chip in for costume materials. I was expecting maybe $20, but he added a generous $75 to that week’s child support payment. Which was awesomely cool and greatly appreciated.
So, flush with riches, we went forth to buy costume stuff. At Walmart we found face makeup and a fake bloody knife for Luke. At Target we found magenta pants and top for Elizabeth. And then we found the motherlode: a place called Halloween Express, a freaking warehouse-sized emporium of all things Halloween. Pay dirt!
But while I was wandering around finding kid-sized Scary Evil Clown paraphernalia, Luke’s imagination was slowly veering off into a different direction. He found a little black silk top hat, a black walking-stick, an elegant pair of gold-rimmed glasses, a polished wooden pipe, and was showing intense interest in the rack of fake mustaches. He looked like a cross between Jack the Ripper and the little millionaire Monopoly dude. “What are you?” I asked him, gradually realizing that I would be putting all my lovingly-collected evil clown stuff back on the shelves.
“I don’t know,” he said, but we both knew it didn’t matter. He had found the outward trappings of the Dashing Gentleman Heart Of Luke, and there was zero chance of him leaving the store without them. “I have that black cloak at dad’s house,” he added dreamily.
“We still have the makeup and the bloody knife,” I pointed out. You could be…Dr. Jekyll? Or Jack the Ripper?”
“Meh.” Whatever passing whim had made him want to dress up as something scary and evil had already passed. “Maybe I’ll be an Evil-Clown Hunter. Then I can still carry the knife.”
That’s my boy.
Our last stop was Joanne’s for some felt to make the Espio mask and tail and a few other finishing details. Elizabeth set to sewing over the weekend, and her costume is already about 80% done. Luke’s still going with the Gentleman Clown-Hunter idea, and he has enough stuff in his closet to finish the outfit.
I’m still not a big fan of the trick-or-treat thing, but I’m starting to remember the childhood appeal of donning an alternate persona for a night of community make-believe. I’m glad they get to experience it, even though I personally don’t do the door-to-door thing.
Pics to come, once the costumes are finished. Is Halloween really less than two weeks away? Where did October go?
Over the summer vacation Elizabeth read “Watership Down:” practically a rite of passage around here. I was just about her age the first time I picked it up, and it had a HUGE impact on me. Almost thirty years later it remains one of my all-time favorite works of literature; I still like to reread it every few years. If you’ve never read it I can’t recommend it highly enough.
Don’t let the subject matter scare you off. Yes, it’s about talking rabbits. No, it’s not a children’s book. There are deep truths here about what makes a true leader, the incalculable value of friendship, the distinctions between courage and thuggishness and recklessness, the simple beauty inherent in honesty, and appreciating the importance of diversity in fellowship.
Of course, if you’re Elizabeth, there’s always the meta humor to be found….
(Click on the image for a larger version.)
If you don’t get it, it wouldn’t be funny anymore by the time I finished explaining it. Also: go read Watership Down! Googling Sonic the Hedgehog and Friends is optional.
I’m sure it comes as no surprise to readers of this blog that my children live rich fantasy lives. I don’t worry much about it; I’ve come to believe that most children (and frankly, a lot of adults) spend a fair amount of time in alternate realities of their own imaginings. I know I did when I was a child, and later as an adult through online rpg’s and such. These days my need for fantasy seems to be at a low ebb, but I get plenty of it through the eyes and stories of my kids, so maybe that’s enough to keep my imagination entertained.
Anyway. Elizabeth’s current favorite fictional friend is Espio the Chameleon, and he’s pretty much her constant imaginary companion. On our trip to Disneyland and California Adventure in August, she made observations now and then like, “Espio LOVED that ride!” or, “”Man, Espio got soaked on that that one.” I’m sure there’s some fancy psychologist’s term for this sort of imaginary attachment and projection, but when I think about all the other things that a 12-year-old girl could be getting into in this town, I count myself (and her) lucky that this mild obsession is only about a cartoon reptile-boy. (And yes, I have my own theories, but they are personal and I cannot share them with you, Dear Internet.)
So after we got back home, Elizabeth took a bunch of the DL/CA pics and photoshopped Espio into them, for her own personal collection. Here are a few of my favorites:
I love that Luke and Espio have pretty much the exact same expression in that last pic.
Nice to see Cartoon Reptile Boy had a fun time. And…that concludes this week’s glimpse into the mysterious workings of Elizabeth’s brain.
Postscript: I used to think that I have one child who loves to talk and communicate and express himself, and one child who is quiet and private and keeps her thoughts and feelings to herself. And to a certain extent that’s true, but…not really. Elizabeth has the same need to express herself and be heard that every other human on the planet has. She just does it in her own language, like, well, every other human on the planet. Elizabeth’s language is artwork, so you have to listen with your eyes and with your heart.
In the past couple of days I’ve read some articles and blog posts and seen a movie that collectively have left my heart aching for all the children whose parents never bother to learn their children’s language, or never really see or hear them at all. If you’re a parent, PLEASE, take the time to learn the language your child speaks in. It is so worth the effort, for them and for you. The future could be a much better place.
And every dad, married or single, NEEDS to read THIS. Seriously.
/soapbox
This one is dedicated to two of my fellow bloggers, who are having (separate and unrelated) rough times right now and are looking for some happy.
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The first time I ever heard Rob Thomas’ song “Little Wonders” was shortly after Steve and I separated. I immediately downloaded it from iTunes and played it over and over for weeks. It seemed to be speaking directly to the tangled knot of pain and hope that had taken up residence in my chest, and I wanted the knot to hear and believe, and maybe loosen its grip a little.
For a long time (like, until just the past couple of months), it was difficult for me to look at photos taken during that first year or so after the split. You could see the hope and the growing glimmers of peace and joy in those images, but my memories of the raw underlying pain were still too fresh. I looked at those pictures and remembered just putting one foot in front of the other in a determined effort to get through the tunnel and into the light.
I’ve been out of the tunnel for a while now, but I still love that song. It’s full of truth and light and strength, and if you’re ever going through a difficult time you should add it to your favorite playlists and listen to it until the sunshine comes back.
All of this is to explain that today’s Love Thursday post is in video form, and also to express my gratefulness that even the first half of the video makes me smile now instead of making my stomach hurt. Always a bonus. I’m hoping it can bring a smile or two to anyone else who needs one today.
So now, without further ado:
Happy Love Thursday everyone, and special virtual hugs go out to Jenny and Mir. Things will get better. You are loved by so many.