Not Even A Little Bit About Vaseline

So, I'm not sure what it was last night, but I'd set this goal of starting a daily writing thing in November, and yet the very act of doing so just froze me right up. I kept thinking, what the hell could I write that anyone would want to read? Bless his heart, MOTH tried to help. He would suggest, "How about writing about hanging out with your pregnant friend?" and I would type, I saw my friend. She is pregnant.

"What about the play?" he offered. I typed, I saw a play. Eh.

"What about taking your son trick-or-treating for the first time?" I took Tankbaby trick-or-treating for the first time. It was really cute, but you don't care because you're not his mom, and I can't get the damn video oriented correctly to prove how cute and funny it was and why am I even writing this blah blah blah.

Good times, eh? I expressed my frustration to MOTH about being unable to write something funny and interesting. He tried to reassure me that I shouldn't put pressure on myself. He said, "Even if one out of five is any good--and with you it's more likely to be, oh, say, one out of three--that's something." (Pop Marriage Quiz: Where does that statement go horribly, if well-intentionedally, awry? Wives, you're not allowed to help your husbands.)

I'm very much afraid I growled unattractively.

But! It's a new day final two hours of the evening, and as a peace offering, I'm going to take up MOTH's helpful writing prompts and tell you about My Halloween.

I did, in fact, go see a play. And it did, in fact, leave me rather...eh. I went in with unfairly high expectations, because MOTH (who did the props and is a member of the company that produced the play) kept raving about it and how it moved him to tears each time. I will admit to a mild prickling about the ocular region at one point, but I wasn't swept up into it. In the first act, we meet a young couple who are just meeting each other for the first time and are instantly drawn to each other, although they're both dating other people. We are also introduced to an older couple who have a very active sex life and no compunction about passing on wisdom about life and love to young strangers. In the second act, we learn that this older couple is planning a suicide pact. The man has cancer and the wife has agreed to give him an overdose. She later reveals to him that she's planning on going with him, as she doesn't want to live without him.

There are some lovely moments throughout the play, as well as some wonderful lines (one of my favorites is when the young girl asks the old woman about the idea of knowing whether or not love will last, and the woman replies, "No one stands on the side of the dance floor and thinks, "He'll look good in dentures!"). But I didn't find myself lost in the stories of these couples, for a couple of reasons. First, I found the young woman rather...unlikable. I don't know if it was the actress or the way the part was written, but I had a hard time seeing what, outside of the physical attributes, the young man saw in her. Secondly, I had figured out the suicide pact angle early on (they drop increasingly obvious hints before revealing what's going on), so the long buildup to the (quite lovely) end dragged a bit. And finally, and probably mostly? I am ruined for cancer/parental loss storylines. I can sniff 'em out a mile away and I am unable to see them as isolated fiction. I detach from the story and become immersed in my own thoughts.

So, there you go: eh.

Considerably less "eh"? My pregnant friend! This is the same friend with whom I spent a night in the ER and received a call that she thought she was miscarrying. She's due in late March. And I just want to thank all of you for your good vibes/prayers/animal sacrifices back in the summer when I mentioned this, because clearly y'all are Very Powerful.

And trick-or-treating with Tankbaby (who, at nearly 20 months, will soon be in the market for a new moniker, one without the word "baby"--taking suggestions below) was pretty damn idyllic. He was dressed as...a mammal of some sort. What? I don't know. We had something figured out for a costume (the little suit that he wore to Aunt Benevola's wedding, plus a violin case and a fedora, possibly with a small mustache penciled in), but MOTH's mom had found this brown furry suit with ears and a head and paws and...we think it was a bear, but we also heard monkey, mole (side note: really? You think we dressed our kid up as a mole?), or beaver. Although the orientation is all wrong, I'm putting up this video I took of Tanky playing downtown. Just tilt either your head or your computer monitor. He falls down and begins to crawl, which actually works for the costume.







However, you can see where, when the kid's just wearing it, it has a little less...definition, shall we say. And a lot more...goiter.


But once you add a collapsible pumpkin bucket and a shuffling waddle through the fall leaves, it's a little ridiculous how cute he was.







Tank was quite uncertain about the whole thing for the first few houses, but once he got the hang of it, he became very enthusiastic. He'd start up a driveway, calling, "Teee? Teee?" and I'd explain that the "Trick or Treat" was really for once the door was opened, or at least when you were standing at the door. He knocked with ferocity, but then learned to take a few steps back to allow for door opening. On occasion, he would grab the hand of the treat-hander-outter, like, "You gotta get out here and try this. Do you know about this "treat" business? Also, look! A leaf!" I felt a little bad about the fact that he was never going to get to eat any of the candy he was collecting, but figured he didn't know what he was missing, and was mostly interested in the shiny wrappers and the whole meet and greet aspect of the evening. My favorite was the woman who exclaimed over his cuteness, and then looked at me and asked, "What kind of candy does Mama like?" before choosing something to drop in his bucket. I asked for a Reese's cup and appreciated her forthrightness. Because, really. Taking a toddler trick-or-treating? Is just a way to pimp out your kid for sugar.

Anyway, strange mammalian costume and baby-whoring aside, it was a lovely evening. The weather was perfect, crisp but not chilly. My kid was having a great time (although I did keep thinking about how disappointing our next neighborhood walk would be, what with significantly less candy and far fewer doorbell-ringing), and I had one of those moments where I was just struck that, wow, I'm a mom. What an iconic image, the adult crouched behind the costumed child, prompting the line, cuing the thank-you, and then, tiny paw in grown-up hand, trundling off down the street.