Halloween Is Our Thing – #FinishTheSentenceFriday

Halloween.

I have been an avid fan for as long as I can remember. If I am honest I am sure that some of my love for the “holiday” comes from me being able to be someone other than myself. I am sure this was the case when I was a kid and I think a little bit of that feeling of not having to be me for one night has carried over into adulthood.

My first costume memories were those old boxed costumes that were made up of a plastic smock imprinted with the image of a gown, dress, uniform or suit  and the dreaded mask that seemed to look the same for every character. We just thought we were “all that” while parading around in one of those costumes.

Although the description on the box always said it contained a “ventilated mask”, I remember never really being able to breathe and/or the mask filling up with hot air and my face sweating profusely. The eyes never seemed to be positioned so that one could actually see and the jagged edges where the eye holes were cut out would dig into the corners of your eye. The flimsy elastic band that was supposed to hold the mask around your head would, without fail, snap halfway through trick-or treating and you would end up holding the mask in front of your face for the rest of your trick-or-treat adventure.

But still, we loved those costumes. My favorite was always Cinderella or a just a generic princess.

Photo Attribute: By Tim1965 (Own work) [CC BY-SA 3.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)

Photo Attribution – See Below

There was a point in time when I really began to hate these “costumes” especially when I started to notice other kids wearing all different kinds of costumes; they weren’t plastic smocks – they looked like real articles of clothing.  There was no longer the parade of boxed costumes everywhere and some of these newfangled costumes did not even have a mask! Gasp! What was this sorcery?

But in our house, if we couldn’t find or put together a costume from articles of clothing or items that we already had, the boxed costume was the only other option. It would be a few years before I was able to partake.

****

When I finally graduated out of the boxed costume, I remember a gown. I know it was not purchased for me to wear as a costume (we did not do that, remember?). I think it was my mother’s. I do not remember why she had it. She may have been in a play or something when she was younger, but I was in heaven! Heaven!

I remember that gown like it was yesterday. It was a peachy/pink color and lacy and I am sure in reality did not look as gorgeous as it did in my head but I sure did believe that I was just the living end when I wore that gown.

I don’t have any photos of that gown or of me wearing it. Halloween was not a big deal to my parents so the family Halloween photo was never a thing when I was younger. I do believe that there may be the random Halloween family photo of my younger brothers, but I have never seen any of me or my next in age brother.

I wore that gown for years. After dragging it across sidewalks and catching it on my shoes, tree branches, shrubs or anything else I would happen to walk by on my trick-or-treat route, it looked a little bit worse for wear. But still I continued to wear it since I was not going to get a store bought costume and was too big (and too cool, of course) for the plastic boxed costumes. I suppose that I could have gone the “hobo/bum” route that my brothers took every . single . year, because one could do that easily with stuff we already had laying around – a flannel shirt, a stick with the kerchief, a little dirt to your face and ….voila – a Hobo.

But I always wanted to be pretty and wearing the princess gown and maybe even some makeup always made me feel pretty. I loved Halloween because I got to feel pretty for that night. To this day, Halloween is the only day of the year that I wear lipstick – if the costume calls for it, of course.

****

I was around 11 or 12 when I decided that I was just too cool for trick-or-treating and costumes. That decision was largely based on the fact that my friends did not think it cool any more. That happened to be the same year that Halloween was just about cancelled. There had been a growing epidemic over the past few Halloween’s of razor blades in apples, laxatives disguised as chocolate, and so many other evils, that many people (at least in our area) did not let their children go out for trick-or-treat at all. Back in those days there were no safe Halloween trick-or-treat parties at firehouses or held by civic organizations as there are today. Halloween was trick-or-treating or nothing. I remember our doorbell ringing only once and my mother being shocked that it rang at all.

Even though Halloween was about over for me; because…. being too cool and all – I was sad thinking that this might very well be the end of it for everyone. Fortunately that did not turn out to be the case and things got right back to normal the following year.

****

Fast forward to my 20’s when I discovered that Halloween was not over for me at all! There were parties. Parties with costumes. It was in my 20’s when I honed the skill of using powder eye shadow on my face instead of the gloppy pasty stuff they sold for Halloween face color.  I came up with some pretty good costume ideas but more often than not, I got so involved in helping my friends come up with and put together their costumes that my ideas ended up being thrown together at the last minute. They still came out relatively well, but they did not look like what I originally had pictured in my head. I was the Halloween Costume Queen…. but for every one else, not always for me.

****

Then came Halloween at work. Back in the raggedy princess gown days  I would never have imagined that I would still be celebrating Halloween after the age of 12 or 13 and certainly not at the office.

I will admit to being just a tad “high pressure” when it comes to Halloween…. but really – If everyone would just follow directions, fall in line and embrace the theme (there must always be a theme), it would all go so much more smoothly…..

but seriously…

no pressure.

No pressure at all.

****

When DC was born I had happy visions of  walking the neighborhood with him just like when I was a kid. I managed to control myself on his first Halloween as he was less than a year old and went with the standard baby pumpkin costume.

1991

The following year we all dressed in Star Trek attire – which was also not over the top for him; he just had to wear a shirt. The next year I started to try to add to the costumes (makeup, hair color) just to see how far he would let me go costume-wise.

1993 Vampires

Let’s just say, it did not go well. He did it; but getting everything on him was not fun and I had to give up on much of the make-up and hair color spray. Once on, he did all right, but I knew I had to rein it in next year. Fortunately I did not scar him for life about Halloween.

When he was 4 I started noticing that Disney costumes were becoming more available we were able to find a Peter Pan – one of his favorites at the time. This is where we turned a corner and right there…. he was sold….

1994

He was just thrilled to realize that he could be any Disney character that he wanted to be; and he has been quite a few over the years. Of course, I would always dress right along with him and our costumes were/are always compatible.

When he got older I began noticing that he was having a hard time choosing between all of the characters available and since there were now parties to attend as well  – I let him start picking out a few different costumes for the parties. Now…. you might say that we have gotten carried away or that I am spoiling him but, the list of things and activities that DC really cares about is limited, so if he loves Halloween and costumes;  I am going to do what I can to see that he has a great time with it. Maybe, just maybe, having to wear that same ragged princess dress year after year plays into it a bit – maybe just a tad.

But I will tell you, for a kid who has to have tags cut out of everything and many other sensory issues, he will do and wear just about anything when it comes to Halloween – make-up, wigs, bald caps glued to his head or scars glued on to his face, eyebrows, mustaches and just about anything but a mask. I can’t say that I blame him there.

His party costumes are all about him. Our Halloween night costumes are all about us (more so now than when he was younger). They are about things that both of us enjoy. There have been plenty of times that no one knew who or what we were or I wasn’t as hilariously clever as I thought I was, but we do not care. We know who we are and we have fun.

He is 26 now. I never imagined Halloween would still be thrill for him and I love that it is something that we can go all out and overboard about together…. I hope he never tires of it.

We have already been to two parties so far this season and are looking forward to a few more before Halloween night rolls around. As he walked in to the dance held by his work/day program last week, one of the staff said to me: “Look at him just walking in to the party with all of that on, looking so comfortable like he is wearing his regular every day clothes.”

Yep, that’s my “boy”…….

****

Be sure to visit our Halloween Page: We Love Halloween! We love it so much, we gave it it’s own page.


I am honored to co-host Finish the Sentence Friday this week with host Kristi Campbell of Finding Ninee . The prompt this week –  “When it comes to Halloween….” 

Link up or just read some of the Halloween offerings at the blue button below… (link is open for posting through Sunday evening)

Finish the Sentence Friday is a link-up where writers and bloggers come together to share their themselves with a particular sentence. If you’d like to stay ahead of future sentences and participate, join our Facebook group.  Link up your sentence prompts below! Please no “link dumping.” If you include a link, comment on other posts.

******

Photo: Tinkerbell Boxed Costume: By Tim1965 (Own work) [CC BY-SA 3.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)  via Wikimedia Commons

He was right next to me

It happened a few weeks ago…..

DC wanted to make pizza. “Making” pizza means opening a ready-made crust, adding sauce, ‘sparkling’ cheese (Veggie grated cheese), garlic powder (because he is obsessed with garlic) and pepperoni.

We do this often and DC helps with quite a lot of it.

I had opened the crust and the sauce. DC spread the sauce around the top of the crust and sprinkled his garlic and cheese all over it. I got the pepperoni out of the refrigerator. It was already opened from the last time we made pizza. I buy the pepperoni already sliced in a bag, because I buy turkey pepperoni and I really haven’t seen it in any other form, and it is just easier.

We have about 4 feet of counter space to work on with almost 2 feet taken up by the microwave, so when I say that “I was right next to him”, I mean right next to him. Our arms were probably touching.

He was putting his pepperoni on his pizza and I was putting something in the microwave. I looked over and saw him with the scissors holding one of those anti-moisture packs (silica gel) over his pizza, ready to cut it open and sprinkle it over his pizza. It must have been in the pepperoni pack.

You know, those packs that say “Do Not Eat” and “Throw Away”? Yes, those.

I have read up on them more since this incident and have found out that they are not poisonous and probably will not hurt you unless eaten in large quantities, but the fact remains that the “Do Not Eat” and “This is not food – Throw Away”, would lead one to believe that they are poisonous and harmful. I have always believed that to be the case, so much so that I have talked to DC about them before. They are always in his juice mix. I usually get to them before he finds them but I have talked to him about them many times. Finding one in his pepperoni did make a connection in his mind to the discussions about the packs in his juice mix. It is two different things. We talked about juice, not pepperoni. **

That day (still believing that they were dangerous) I was beside myself. I went over it and over it with him. He laughed at first but when I burst into tears I think he understood that this was serious (but not understanding why) and am pretty confident that he will not touch one of those again.

It haunted me for weeks… finding out that they were not dangerous as I had always believed did not make me feel any better. He was ready to eat some strange thing. He did not know what it was but he was ready to eat it anyway (How does that even happen when there is such a limited number of foods that he WILL eat?).

DC does not just “pick up” on information (see: A Chair is Still a Chair) he has to be taught – he has to be shown. After the teaching and the showing; if he still does not understand, I have to resort to making a rule.

I resort to “rules” when I know something is beyond his grasp.  (Oh! The rules I have had to make!). Please don’t tell me that I am not giving him enough credit. I try and try to explain in many, many different ways and I do not give up even after the rule is made, but his safety has to come first.

He knows what rules are.

He follows rules.

He does not have to understand the rule – it’s a rule so he follows it.

Many times, rules are the only way I can keep him safe.

He follows rules; that is a good thing.

The downside of this is that – he follows….

If someone with not the best intentions were to tell him to do something – he would. He is following directions and aren’t we supposed to follow directions? Isn’t that what he was taught to do? If someone tells you to do something, you do it – right?

There are no gray areas.

I remember being at a relative’s house when DC was little. He was sitting on the floor and had gotten hold of a plastic bag. When I took the bag away from him a family member said “He’s not going to put it on his head and suffocate right in front of us, you know.” Yes, I did know that but if he was going to learn not to play with plastic bags then I couldn’t let him play with plastic bags. Period. There is not a “sometimes you can” category  It is either you can or you can’t, with DC and the rule was “he couldn’t”.

I cannot teach him to follow my rules but not to follow other’s rules.

I cannot give him a list of whose rules he should follow – teachers, his boss, his staff, police, etc. because there will always be something that comes up that strays from that list.

DC knew I was very upset about the pizza incident but again… he did not understand why.  Very often, he does not understand things unless they happen. When I told him that he could have gotten very sick, it did not mean a lot to him. Sick means a cold, sick means the flu, sick means a ‘heady-ache’ and nothing more serious than that.

He looks both ways when crossing the street but I do not always believe he is really LOOKING at anything. Most times he is just going through the motions, which is why he never crosses the street alone. He does not understand what can really happen if he were to be hit by a car or if he was involved in any other sort of accident. He does not understand unless it happens and as I do not want any of these things to happen, I have to just keep finding different ways to explain safety to him and making rules.

There was this one time that DC (before he had his own laptop) was eating in the kitchen watching something on my computer, which was on the other side of the table. I was 10 feet away in the living room. I heard him get up quickly and I knew something was wrong. He was choking. But he did not jump out of his chair to come to get me. He jumped out of his chair to run to the other side of the kitchen to pause the movie BEFORE he came to get me! (I came running when I heard him jump up, but the fact of the matter was that he was more concerned about his movie than choking. He knew something was wrong and he was panicked but his movie came first.). If he hadn’t been able to get whatever was lodged in his throat up by himself, would he not let me help until his movie was paused? I honestly do not know.

He just cannot understand the “why” of things.

Why should he get help before pausing his movie?

Why can’t he walk into the road?

Why can’t he eat the moisture pack?

Why can’t he talk to strangers? And what IS a stranger?

Someone he doesn’t know?

——-Why can he say hello to all of the people he doesn’t know when we walk on the trail? Aren’t they strangers?

Why can’t he stick the knife or a fork in the toaster?

Why can’t he put his hand on the stove when it’s on?

Why can’t he run with scissors, play with knives, stick things into electrical outlets?

Why?

But there is no way on earth that I can come up with every single thing that might happen or could be dangerous. If he understood the “why” of things it might be easier for him to see the danger in some things without having to have everything explained to him.

So I have to keep him close to me and hope that when he is out of my eye shot, the people who are charged with keeping him safe will keep him just as close.

But then again, in this case…. he was right next to me….

****

 

 

 

**Please do not take this post as a be all end all about moisture packs being safe. I looked into it and that is what I found, BUT I am sure there are exceptions. Always call poison control or seek medical advice if they happen to be ingested.**

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Envelopes, Bags, Shredding and Communication

 

Last weekend was one of those weekends where DC was just all over me, all of the time. I could not make a move without hearing “Mom! Come here please.” or “Vickie, where are you going?”.

Every step I took, he was calling me, most of the time for no reason at all.

I was upstairs plunging the bathroom sink. I really do not know what the deal is with that sink, but I seem to spend a lot of time plunging it. DC had already checked in to see what I was doing more than once and had gone back to his computer. I had already been up and down the stairs a good 6 times because he always waits until I get to where I am going before he asks me to “Come here, please” so I decided that I would call him for a change.

We had just been grocery shopping and I left the bag that held the drain-o on the kitchen table.

For someone who was so concerned about where I was all day long, it took me six (very loud) tries to get him to answer me.

“DC, please bring me the white bag that’s on the kitchen table.”

He came to the bottom of the stairs with a shipping envelope.

I would understand the confusion if I had asked him for an envelope from the table. The table holds, I can’t even tell you how many envelopes and other papers that I think maybe I need to keep, or that I have to find a spot for, or mail that I don’t really have to keep but has to be shredded or junk mail that has to be shredded before throwing away (Chase, Capital One and AARP – I’m talking to you!). Getting rid of all of it would mean that I would have to empty the shredder – so there it all sits.

(You will be happy to know that I did get rid of about 50% of the envelopes and paper this week while watching an episode of Star Trek Discovery on the computer in the kitchen. All of the shred-able items went into the sink to be mashed up into clumps and thrown away while the shredder sits there, still full… Oh, the lengths I will go not to have to empty the shredder.)

He knows what a bag is, but for some reason the request threw him off. I asked again for the white bag that was on the table. After the second request he brought me the bag, but now I had to worry about what he did with the shipping envelope because it contained part of his Halloween costume.

When I got back downstairs I asked him where he put the envelope. He pointed upstairs – which is where he brought the bag when I asked for it. I tried to explain:

“DC, before you brought me the bag, you had an envelope in your hand. Where did you put it when you came back to get the bag?”

He just began pointing to random places. Places in the living room, in the kitchen, outside, and upstairs.

I even tried to re-enact the whole thing by getting an envelope, bringing it to the bottom of the stairs and saying “No DC, I need the bag on the table” going back to the kitchen and asking “Where did you put the envelope that you had?”

He just could not understand what I wanted.

I did not want to give up because at this point I wanted him to understand the question.

As we were going through the reenactment, I noticed that the envelope was in a box, which was probably right where he found it originally, but I did not let on that I saw it. So I went through the whole thing again, this time pointing to the table where it clearly wasn’t, asking “Did you put the envelope here?”

DC: “No”

Pointing to the empty chair – “Did you put it here?”

DC: “No”

Pointing to the box, where I had spotted it – “Did you put it here?”

DC: “Yes”

“There it is! Thank you for telling me where you put it.”

He was glad that we found it and was no longer anxious about what I was asking for and I hoped that after all of the looking, reenacting, and explaining he finally understood what I had been asking him.

But this, right here is my point. This is why I write these stories. Some may be written with humor and some may come across as “Oh, look at the cute thing DC did or said” (he does crack me up at times) but my object is always to make people understand how his mind works.

He has speech – yes. He can communicate – yes. But communication is difficult, he cannot always tell me anything other than his standard scripted answers. He cannot always follow directions. He might understand something one day but the next day he just cannot get it.

A simple question about where he put something took a good half hour to get him to understand. I am not positive that in the end he actually DID understand but we had to play it out all the way so he was not anxious about it anymore. He had to be the one to say “yes, it was there” or he would not feel better about it.

This is DC.

This is how he communicates or at times does not communicate. This is how he follows directions and at times cannot follow directions. This is how he processes questions and sometimes cannot process questions. This is how he processes information and sometimes just cannot process information.

Because he gives standard answers, people do not always realize right away that he is not giving the correct answer to their question. People who know that he may just be giving a standard scripted answer may not realize it when he DOES understand the question and gives the correct reply.  Other people he meets along the way in life are not going to take the time to reenact the whole scenario to get to the answer to that question. It is a constant struggle for him and for me, but we do not give up.

I know at 26 years of age there is not a lot of progress that will be made. I know that we will never get to a point where I don’t fear the future when he no longer has me to help him,  but we do not stop trying. There is always a little bit of progress made – there is always something…..

 

****

I AM absolutely aware that this post is just all over the place but sometimes that’s just how our life is – all over the place.