To BOO or Not To BOO

Wondering what to do for Halloween this year? Hey, me too! For the past five years my All Hallows holiday has been done G-rating style suitable for my preschoolers. Well, this year, the kids are going out of town so I feel lost in trying to plan for the night's activities. I'm no longer sure how to act like a single adult woman with endless possibilities. My newly single status adds a whole different BOO-factor to Halloween and the months to come. For the first time in a long time, I'll be tackling the holidays alone.

For the past five years I have holiday-shared with another person. It's been a Wes Craven-worthy nightmare trying to decide which set of in-laws to piss off on Thanksgiving. (Just joking Susan, sort of.) My husband and I had a system down, Thanksgiving in NC and Christmas in Nashville and the next year we would flip flop. It usually worked out OK, but it never failed that one of us was always homesick for our families. A lot of fights were spawned because of it. The upside to holiday-sharing is that you never have to worry about a date to a party. You always have the James Dean to your Marilyn Monroe, the Pilgrim to your indian, and the Santa to your Mrs. Clause. I'm realizing how very different this year is going to be.

Now that I'm a widow I'll be spending my first festive season single. I didn't realize how much this would affect me until now that my kids are going out of town and I will be alone for Halloween. We had our night all planned out to trick-or-treat at Johnny and Ashley's. The kids would consume candy, Ashley and I would consume Bergman and the night would end in sugar-high, wine-buzz bliss. So with the turn of events, I am faced with options. I could stick to the plan and have a most enjoyable time with one of my favorite families or I could venture out on a limb and join other ranks of my peers to dress up and pretend that we are 21 again. I do believe that my dear Ashley would never hold it against me if I do in fact choose 2nd Avenue over Old Hickory. She's a mom therefore she understands. :-)

Somewhere deep inside of me is a single party-girl that is simply dying to go out. Party girl wants nothing more than to dress up as a mildly inappropriate super hero, complete with cape, fishnet stockings and knee high super boots. For one night I want to wage a war on the dwindling social lives of single moms everywhere and take Nashville by storm.

There's only one kryptonite that might stop me.

I have no friends.

OK, I know that is a drastically unfair statement. I have PLENTY of friends who are probably very pissed off at me for even hinting that I am a loner. So, to be a little more specific, I don't have many unattached, party goers in my circle anymore. Being that I am a single mom I always seem to be either one body short with my "family" friends or two too many with my single friends. Don't get me wrong, I have the GREATEST of all friends on the planet and none of them ever make me feel left out or out of place, so I hope I'm not hurting anyone's feelings who may be reading this. I love you all. But it's a simple fact that most of my gang will be chaperoning little Princesses and Pirates around to neighbors while I am dreaming of Batman buying me something fruity and dragging me out onto the dancefloor. My other friends, the ones without kids, will be playing dress up with their significant others or flying home from changing the world in Peru or just avoiding the party scene because that's not their style.

So what is Party Girl to do? I'm open to suggestion. I do have one party that I will be attending regardless of whether I make it anywhere else or not. I'm playing with the idea of getting all dressed up and finding new friends for the night, which is a high possibility of what I will, in fact, do. Or I might just play it safe and get silly with Ashley, which is NEVER a bad idea.

However, attention Tennesseans… what's going down in Nashvegas this year???

And who should I be?

Channeling my Inner Hawaiian Tropic Girl

Several months ago I wrote a blog called The Bikini Transformation. Here's an excerpt:

In my heart, I'm a bikini girl. When I think of myself at the seashore, I'm always the Hawaiian Tropic model in the strings and seashells. Maybe not seashells, but you know what I'm talking about. In my fantasy, I'm lying on a towel soaking up the sun rays, spreading oil over toned muscle and beautifully bronzed skin. I play volleyball with my girlfriends and roll around getting dusted with sand.

Snap out of it. (Yeah, I'm talking to you!) Here's the reality: I've had two kids and other than the occasional Mystic Tan, I've been "the white girl" all my life. I've got a decent figure, but I wouldn't exactly describe it as toned and the only way I will ever be beautifully bronzed is if my freckles multiply and run together.

Fast forward to September.

With a complete mental breakdown ready to knock down my door any day, I decided to pack up my bags head to the sunny beaches of Florida with my friend Bridgett. She and I both deserved some serious R & R. The plan was simple: Corona, limes, sand and the sun. For one weekend, we were going to be completely selfish and satisfied and I was hell bent on looking good while doing it.

We all deserve to be just a little bit shallow from time to time, right?

I was determined to channel my inner Hawaiian Tropic girl, so I booked my first ever airbrush tan. Airbrush tanning is like "reality Photoshop". The difference is that you have to do it with your arms up over your head, standing in front of a fan wearing only a hairnet.

The entire process took about a half an hour. The first fifteen minutes was spent in the (nearly) nude, arms out, and legs apart as an "artist" hosed me down with an ice cold mist that choked me like tear gas every time I attempted to breath. Wouldn't you just love to have that girl's job? I mean, that's like right up there with being a bikini wax girl.

The second fifteen minutes was literally being "hung out to dry" in front of a fan. I couldn't touch anything or look anywhere but straight ahead because OMG I could get creases! I quickly understood why the receptionist greeted me with a glass of champagne upon my arrival. Have you ever tried standing for 15 minutes with your arms out like you're on a balance beam? I think I had a teacher in elementary school that would use that as punishment, but she may be in jail now (or should be if she's not).

It's a funny thing being one color when you wake up and a whole different color when you go to bed. And the tan would've been rockin' if my feet didn't look like this:

(No, those aren't really MY feet, but they could've been.)

I solved the problem by just keeping my toes buried in the sand, which was part of the original plan anyway.

People can go to some crazy lengths to feel better in their own skin. For one day I got to be a slightly brassy Hawaiian Tropic bronze.

Anyone else out there made any desperate attempts at fleeting beauty? Any of them worth trying? I'm all ears! LOL

The Mouse and His Giant People Trap

A coworker once told me when I was pregnant with my daughter, "Enjoy it while you can. She'll be grown before you know it." I must have heard this cliché a hundred times in my short while as a young mother but during two a.m. feedings and diaper changes it felt like I was going to have an infant for all of eternity. Canaan just turned five. I'm still in denial over it because there is no way that I am mother to a kindergartener. It seems like just days ago I was cleaning up poop finger paintings in her nursery. Yeah, gross I know. She's turned into this small person with thoughts and feelings and (freak out) opinions. I'm waiting for her any day to give me insight in who to vote for this election.

In her five years on the planet Earth Canaan has lived a lot of life. Much like her mother, she's already experienced joys and losses of people eight times her age. This year has been a confusing nightmare for both of my kids and for Canaan especially. I remember, with painful clarity, the morning I went into her bedroom, scooped her up in my arms and told her that Daddy wasn't going to be able to take her swimming after lunch. It was the worst day of all of our lives.

So about six weeks ago I decided to plan Canaan's birthday party. I looked at all of the possibilities: the bouncy place, the park, the tiny piece of hell-on-earth Chuck E Cheese. None of the options in Nashville seemed suitable for such a big event in her life during such a hard year, so I knew I had to dream a little bigger.

A dream is a wish your heart makes, when you're fast asleep. In dreams you lose your heartaches. Whatever you wish for, you keep. Have faith in your dreams and someday your rainbow will come smiling through. No matter how your heart is grieving, if you keep on believing, the dream that you wish will come true.

We packed our bags and headed to Disney World.

The trip was one of the best decisions I've ever made. It was a COMPLETE surprise to the kids. I literally told them just hours before putting them on the plane. This year has just been so terrible that I decided it was worth giving my kids the surprise of a lifetime. Sure, it's not my paradise, but Disney is like the Bora Bora for kids. My friend Brenda, knowing me ever so well, said of our trip, "Normally I think being in the "Happiest Place on Earth" would get on your very last nerve, however right now it may be just what you need to level yourself out." She was right.

Our first day there we went to SeaWorld and got to listen to Will sing his own theme song all day, "Who we gonna see? Shampu! Shampu!" And we did! I seriously considered quitting my job and learning to train killer whales for a living. It was amazing.

Day two was at the Magic Kingdom. When Canaan's eyes landed on Cinderella's castle for the first time the look on her face was priceless. I thought she was going to cry she was so excited. We went off on a trek across the park for a prearranged meeting with Peter Pan. Peter presented her with a very special "Happy Birthday" button and autographs from Tinkerbelle, Wendy and all the Lost Boys. Then I made the mistake of taking her on the Pirates of Caribbean and scaring the bejezus out of her. Good one Mom. Apparently Canaan doesn't share my same enthusiasm for a hot, robotic, Cap'n Jack singing "Yo ho, yo ho a Pirate's life for me!" Thankfully, soon after, all was put right with the world when she got to meet all of her favorite princess and Mommy got to shoot a lot of video of Prince Charming. J

Day three we were at Epcot and we stood in line for about twenty minutes to meet Mickey Mouse and all of his friends. My son was so excited when he saw Mickey that he took off in a dead run and nearly fell on his face trying to stop when we called him back. He got to dance with Donald Duck and show off his acrobatic moves, got a kiss that turned him red from Alice in Wonderland and huge hug from Dopey the Dwarf. At that moment, my sister and I both almost quit our jobs and signed up to play characters at Disney. I mean, what better job could there be than this:

Canaan's birthday lasted for seven days. All seven days she proudly wore her Happy Birthday button and was sung to and presented with cake for dinner every night. It was a week of memories that will last for eternity. And guess what folks? When October 2^nd rolls around next year…. I'm screwed.

What If Today Was the Last Day of Your Life?

My life is silent in a chaotic sort of way these days. The past ten months have been an excruciating mix of painful and pleasant experiences that have left me in a cloud, incoherently gliding through life. I've let my actions determine my decisions rather than moving myself toward a chosen goal. I guess I can't beat myself up too much for my passiveness, I mean it's been a pretty effed up year and there's been a lot to keep me preoccupied.

About three weeks ago the cloud began to lift. My tears dried up allowing me to see clearly and I looked around at my life and began to wonder, "What am I doing?"

There is a lot going right in my world. My kids are healthy and happy, I have a wonderful guy that loves me more than I deserve or understand, there is food on the table and a pair of seriously cute jeans in my closet. I just can't shake the feeling that something is seriously missing.

I see myself standing in a dark and empty room. It's MY room, the room where I'm supposed to be happy, safe and secure but all it feels like is a holding cell, a triage of an emotional hospital. In front of me are countless doors. I can walk through any door that I choose and finally make a change that will start a ripple effect for the rest of my days. I am being suffocated by fear. Fear of choosing the wrong door, fear of causing damage to those on the journey with me but mostly terrified by the thought of staying in that room.

There are faint voices all around me, the majority of them coming from myself. "You're a single mother; you're going to screw up your kids. You can't do it all alone. You're crazy for wanting to make a major change with the economy so bad. You're so ungrateful. You're not good enough to live your dream. You'll never make it. You're going to fail…"

I've checked off the major life headlines (as Tiffany calls them, see her blog I've Got A Fever). I've done the marriage thing, bought some real estate, had a couple of babies (one of each gender) and held onto a good job for nearly a decade. Now as I look forward from my 27 year perch I wonder, "Is this all there is?"

Of course I have my children to look forward to and I don't want to seem ungrateful for them. They are growing up and changing so fast and they are the biggest joy in my life. But for me, is this it? Is THIS what I wanted to be when I grew up?

A wise man once said, "If you set a five year goal for yourself and never start moving toward it, in five years you're still going to have the same goal but you'll be no closer to reaching it."
Today I'm not exactly sure what I want that goal to be, but I do have a dream and I have a feeling that dream is on the other side of one of those doors.

One thing I've learned the hard way this year is that life is too short to wait. What if this bleak and rainy Wednesday was the last day of my life?