13 Rules of Halloween

Mooooo-ha-ha-haaaaaaaa! Halloween is upon us and the ghouls are creeping. Surely you'll be out among them trick-or-treating tonight, too. Well, be warned. If the clouds part and the moon shines upon your unfortunate features revealing them to be of someone too old, too greedy or too spooked to participate in the festivities, many curses will fall upon you and your treat bag. Break one of the 13 cardinal rules of trick-or-treating and NO CANDY FOR YOU! Woooooh-hee-hee-hee-heeeeeee!

1. Wear a costume.
2. Shave your beard.
3. If you're taller than 6-feet, hunch down.
4. Shave your beard.
5. Tote a traditional orange jack-o-lantern bucket for collecting candy. When you walk from house to house with a large, black garbage sack, you look like you're robbing people.
6. Shave your beard.
7. Open your mouth and say, "Trick or treat." Don't grunt. Don't shove your bag toward the candy bowl. Don't smile menacingly. Don't just stand there looking at me looking at you.
8. Shave your beard.
9. Do not carry two buckets and claim to be collecting candy for yourself and a mystery family member who sadly could not go trick-or-treating for being struck by a terrible undiagnosed illness. This is trick-or-treating NOT trick-and-treating. You can't have your candy and his candy and eat it, too.
10. Shave your beard! (I am not joking. Shave it. Do not come to my doorstep asking for candy with even one dangling chin hair wagging at me. It's a dead give-away that you are too old to be out on a night like this.)
11. Do not claim to be trick-or-treating for your child who is "asleep in the car." Satan will set your pants on fire just as sure as I will turn you away. He and I both have the prerogative to do that on Halloween.
12. Don't be so chicken-hearted that when something jumps out and startles you you turn around and run over your own offspring. If you can't go bravely, send your husband. If he plans to carry a bucket for himself, tell him to shave his beard.
13. At 9 o'clock, Halloween, the treating part at least, is officially OVER. Do not knock on my door or ring my doorbell, unless you want to see something really scary. 

Bwaaaah-haaaa-heeeee-heeeeeee-haaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!

Jack of the Lantern

Hundreds of years ago, there lived upon the Emerald Isle, a right dodgy fellow known as Stingy Jack.  Stingy Jack stole turnips and potatoes from his neighbors’ gardens.  He played terrible tricks on his family.  He made ghastly faces at children. Whenever someone asked, “Why do ye act the maggot, Stingy Jack?” he shrugged his shoulders and wickedly replied, “The devil made me do it.”

Bad to drink, Stingy Jack spent many an evening in the local pub, drowning himself in whiskey and slapping the supple hindquarters of weary barmaids.  There, he finally met up with the devil himself, who enjoyed keeping company with drunkards.  The two nasty fellows sipped crappers together well into the wee hours.

When it came time to close shop, Stingy Jack refused to pay the tab.  To settle the bill, he connived and conned the devil into transforming into a silver piece; but as soon as the Prince of Darkness did, Jack slipped the coin into his pocket, alongside a cross, trapping the villainous old gobshite. 

Eventually, Stingy Jack grew weary of hearing the devil complain and threaten; so, in exchange for release, Jack negotiated with the fiend a 10-year reprieve for rebuttal. Mephistopheles promised to wait a dime before collecting Jack’s soul. 

Time passed. Jack got meaner and more irritable with every change of season.  He grew old, shriveled and lonely.  At the turn of the decade, as Stingy Jack traveled a desolate bogway, Lucifer appeared from the shadows.

 “Ahh,” said Jack, who’d been expecting this meeting, “céad míle fáilte, a hundred thousand welcomes. I see ye have returned for me soul.  Before ye take it, could ye climb that tree yonder and shake down an apple for a poor old man.”

Well, the devil, always happy to serve dark hearts, never minded thieving anything for anybody.  He climbed the tree.

Jack, set straight to hammering crosses in the ground.  “It seems I’ve trapped you again there Satan,” he laughed, hacking a sick, wet gurgle. Believing he had the goat by the horns now, he bargained, “I tell you what Beelzebub, promise to never take my soul and I will let you down.”

The devil briefly considered his options and smiled a yellow, worm infested grin.  Again, he agreed to Stingy Jack’s terms.

A few days later, Stingy Jack, without anyone who cared whether mean, jarred Jack staggered on through the world or disappeared in a peat bog, passed away with one last, thick cough. Still in a stupor, he made his way toward the pearly gates.  But, alas, St. Peter took one look at him and commanded, “Gerrup da yard!” 

Dejected and surprised, but half-pleased to go visit his old conspirator in evil, Jack crossed the River Styx. Jovially, he rang out, “How's she cuttin',” as he approached the pits of Hell.

Remembering Stingy Jack’s trickery, however, and true to his word, the devil would have none of Jack, either.  “Do ye take me for a blasted eejit, man?”

“Where shall I go,” slurred Jack.

“Back the way ye came,” decreed the devil, tossing an ember from Hell’s fire to light the way for a lost soul.

In death, as in life, Jack, grumbling that the devil made him do it, stole a turnip and carved it into a lantern to hold the ember.  To this day, Jack of the Lantern restlessly wanders the countryside, seeking a place to settle.  (Insert evil cackle.)

Be careful that he doesn’t settle on your doorstep this All Hallows Eve. Carve a pumpkin. Light the candle. Above all, extend generous hospitality and treats to all of your spooky visitors.

Time Out

Every mommy needs a time out. The great thing about being a mommy (actually, I'm a mama, but close enough) and a freelance writer is that sometimes I get time-outs sent to me in the mail. A little earlier this morning, a rectangular package arrived on my doorstep. Guess what was inside:

a) A baby with a note saying, "Please give me a loving home."
b) Kittens with a note saying, "Please help us find loving homes."
c) An encyclopedia salesman saying, "I heard this is a loving home."
d) A bottle of wine with a note saying, "A mommy's time out is a well-deserved break."

If you guessed a, I would like to inform you that this isn't the 1950s anymore. No one has left a baby on a doorstep in decades. If you picked b, I suspect you thrive off of chaos. If you selected c, perhaps you've read too many romance novels. Encyclopedia salesmen went the way of the baby in the basket on the stoop.

Ding, ding, ding, ding! The correct answer is (d), a time out!

The label even provides directions for use:

See the chair in the corner? That's where mommy sits to gather her thoughts. Her "snack" is on the table next to her time-out chair. Just like Junior, sometimes mommy needs a few minutes to regroup and regain her self-control.

How about you? Do you need a Mommy's Time Out?

O Babysitter, Thou Art Divine: 5 Steps to Finding a Good Babysitter

O’ babysitter, thou art divine. You drive your own car. You don’t drink our wine.                               

But then there were other babysitters who left much to be desired. Of course, my gaggle of children wasn't always the easiest on the fragile ones. (One girl nervously dropped her cell phone in the toilet and accidentally flushed it while hiding in the bathroom.) And my husband and I left a few standing startled in the doorway as we hit the gas in our get-away car, leaving tire streaks on the drive. 

It always seemed that when we needed a babysitter the most, they were scarcer than jackelopes. I had to harden myself to rejection as the years went by and my family's reputation grew. My pockets got deeper. I actually had a teenage girl, who sat for us occasionally - probably only when she was desperate for money - tell me she couldn't babysit because she had to clean her room. I called her on a Tuesday. We didn't need her to come over until Friday. I tried to tell myself that her room was really, really messy, but the real truth hid right behind that thin consolation.

Nonetheless, I learned a lot during those years about how to select a sitter. The best ones weren't just warm bodies. They wanted to play with my children, talk to my children, and make memories with them. My oldest child is 17 now and I haven't retained a sitter's services in years. We still see many of our blasts from the past, however. And I love the way their faces and my children's faces light up in each other's presence. Then I know I took good care of my children even when I wasn't physically there.

Five Simple Steps to Finding a Good Babysitter:

STEP 1: Identify potential candidates for the job. Lots of parents who have found the perfect match for their family are reluctant to give out their best sitter’s name. Still, it’s never a bad idea to start by asking friends with children who they recommend. Another good source is church. Get the word out to the youth group and to the seniors group. Teachers, too, often supplement their incomes with babysitting. Don’t forget to check with neighbors. Also try an on-line service, such as SitterCity.com, that connects parents with a list of local sitters who fit the family’s identified needs.

STEP 2: Screen the potential candidates. Which ones have the experience you’re looking for? Which ones are available at the times you most often need a sitter? Who on the list is trained in CPR and first aid? Who has his own transportation?  Parents who are clear about the requirements they have can very quickly cull their top 2-3 choices over the phone. Of course, ask for references and call those, as well. If using an on-line service, like SitterCity.com, read the posted reviews.

STEP 3: Conduct a face-to-face interview. Prepare a list of questions ahead of time. Present problematic situations, both emergency and non-emergency, and ask potential sitters how they would handle them. Possible scenarios might include discipline, a stranger at the door, phone calls, and so forth. SitterCity.com provides a comprehensive set of interview questions that parents can modify to their family and their situation. Aside from simply asking questions, the interview should also include opportunities for the candidate to interact with the child or children. A person’s body language and verbal exchanges, combined with a child’s response to the individual, add valuable information to the overall picture.

STEP 4: Plan a trial run. After selecting one or two candidates, run a background check on each. This may not be necessary for sitters under the age of 18, but it does apply to adult caregivers. Furthermore, Also, insist on a couple of short, trial sessions, about an hour at a time, to put everyone at ease.

STEP 5: Trust your gut. By this, I mean your parental 6th sense. If you get a bad feeling or your child displays opposition to a sitter, don’t brush it off. Investigate or move on to another candidate.

Do you have a funny or compelling babysitter story?

Useful Links:

The rate calculator: www.sittercity.com/rates

Hiring a babysitter step-by-step:  http://www.sittercity.com/article/babysitting-routines.html

Babysitter interview checklist: http://www.sittercity.com/article/parent-interview-checklist.html

The sitter cheat sheet (all the information you should leave for your sitter): http://www.sittercity.com/sitter-cheat-sheet.html

The Four Step Screening Process: http://www.sittercity.com/sitter-cheat-sheet.html

Loathing The Lorax

Last night, my husband and I and our four children settled down in the den after dinner to watch a family movie. It started off as a great way to pull back together after a weekend that had us stretched like taffy. But then this segment of the movie came on:

My husband and I turned to each other, astounded. He said, "Well, this suddenly took a political turn, didn't it?" And it did! It maligned everybody from corporate CEOs to lawyers to charities accepting donations. The movie went from being a fantastical exploration of what a world without trees might be like to lashing out with a jagged edge.

From that point on, I couldn't enjoy The Lorax. I sat regretting I'd ever wished away wicked stepmothers, pining princesses and handsome Prince Charmings. What was I thinking?

(It also didn't help my opinion of the movie that some snotty-nosed, adolescent, weak-on-words script writer fit in two of the worst current English phrases to date: (1) "I'm just saying," and (2) "I know, right.")

I Didn't Ask for a Poodle

I confessed one of my deepest desires to the one person in the world I thought would understand: My husband. Instead, he reacted as if I had just suggested we replace one of our children with a poodle. Imagine my disappointment at being so gravely misunderstood. If he doesn't get me then who will?

You, perhaps?

Could you accept someone like me who has the audacity to admit that she would like to get rid of her dishwasher and install an ice maker in its place? That's not so crazy is it? Not crazy at all once you know my reasoning.

First, consider the dishwasher: Is it really a time-saving appliance or is it storage for dishes we don't want in the sink or haven't yet gotten around to putting back in the cabinet? Who among us isn't guilty of hiding dirty dishes in it when guests come over? Which of us has not ever retrieved dishes out of it to set the table because none were in the cabinets and drawers?

With the dishwasher, the process of washing, drying and putting away is never ending. We are almost always rinsing dishes and loading the dishwasher, running the dishwasher, emptying the dishwasher so we can reload it, or asking everyone in the house if he knows whether or not the dishes in the dishwasher are clean or dirty. There is seldom a time when the sink is empty and the dishwasher is empty and there is peace in the china.

It is a burden. If I hand-wash the dishes, however, the whole job is completed in one go: Wash, dry, put-away, done with nothing left hanging over my head.

Second, consider the miracle of ice. Man has accomplished the feat of taking what was once a nasty by-product of Mother Nature and turning it into something I simply cannot live without. Before the 1800s when ice was finally taken from frozen ponds and sold as a commodity, beverages languished at luke-warm temperatures, watermelons wallowed in tepid troughs, beer felt naked without the words "ice cold" preceding it. The world was a pretty grim place, particularly in the south during summer.

Ice is one of God's gifts to mankind, to cool our spirits and comfort our souls. I'd like to bring a bit of that holiness into my home.

You understand, right? You relate to my logic, yes?

You would never listen to my story and then turn up with a poodle to console me, would you? I didn't ask for a poodle.

Quitters Get Ahead

You read that headline right. Give up and get ahead and get a-hold of the life you've yearned for. In Her new book, Letting Go of Supermom, Dr. Daisy Sutherland of Mom Talk Radio releases women from aspiring to perfection. In fact, she says we can all quit the stressful habit of trying to achieve the impossible.

 

She advises us to focus on being the women God meant for us to be, and He's the first one to tell us that he doesn't expect perfection. Based on the Proverbs 31 woman, Sutherland helps readers grow in 16 areas of responsibility that matter way more than whether or not the neighbors think we have it all together."Dependence on God," she says, "is what makes it all work."

And this book is oh so practical. For the woman who has a hard time saying no, Sutherland lists several gentle, but effective ways to say it. For the mom who wants to feed her family healthy foods, Sutherland gives directions for several nutritious snacks kids can make. There's even a two-page spread devoted to energy foods for mom, and who doesn't need more energy? She guides mothers through better money management strategies and walks them through ways to calm household clutter and chaos. And this is only the tip of the turnip. Plus, Letting Go of Supermom has pages for us to make notes as we read and re-order our lives and our priorities.

I say keep this book handy as a resource, not just as a one-time read. Like anything we do, learning how to quit running ourselves ragged takes practice. And inevitably we will need to look back at this manual for a reminder.