Halloween 2011: Pre-Costume

To be perfectly honest, Halloween is not a big deal to me.  Growing up we wore the same clown (homemade) costume year after year.  We were not allowed to go door-to-door because my mother was ahead of her time in the worrying department and thought Halloween was the perfect opportunity for little kids to be abducted.  She would drive us in her car to people's houses around our neighborhood that she knew.  I think that was to limit the amount of candy we were allowed to collect.  Looking back, maybe that wasn't such a bad idea, but then again, I don't like candy.

You heard right, I don't like candy.  I have a huge sweet tooth but I'd prefer it to be satisfied with some homemade baked good, as opposed to hard candy or chocolate.  I remember we'd come home with our minimal loot and we'd divide the candy into piles - hard candy, varieties of chocolate, and stuff we didn't want.  I can't remember which house it was but someone always gave the same horrible candy (peanut butter kisses anyone?).  The sorting was my favorite part.  I liked seeing the piles and seeing what was the most popular candy for the year.  I maybe ate 1 piece and that was just because it's what I thought I was supposed to do.

I honestly can't remember what happened to the rest of the candy but since my mom and I are a lot alike and I already have plans for Colin's candy, I can only assume where it went.  The trash.

Colin does like candy.  A lot.  I fear it's partially my fault for withholding it from him for so long.  He knows he can only have it if he eats a good dinner, so at least there's that.  He won't be having any tonight because he decided he'd rather get up 5, yes F-I-V-E times this morning between 5:36 am and 7 am.  I gave him 3 chances (strikes) and told him his punishment would be no dessert tonight, as in no candy.  Time after time he got up, came and stood beside my bed and breathed heavily as he sucked his thumb.  Or as Wes says, he stands there like a crazy psychopath about to find his next victim.  You get the point, it's not a pleasant way to wake up.

After the third strike, I told him no dessert tonight.  I immediately felt like the worst mother ever but I had given him 3 chances and one thing is for sure, you have to stick to your word and be consistent, or they will walk right over you.  It was hard as he pitifully said, "But I want to go trick-or-treating."

I told him he could but he wouldn't be able to eat any of the candy tonight.  In his room he went, sobbing.  Again, my mind races with parenting doubt.  "Don't cave," I reassure myself, "there's plenty of time for him to get to eat his candy."

And yes, there will be at least a few days that he'll be able to eat his candy.  I think I'm going to let him pick how many pieces he wants to keep from his basket.  That may seem like a bad idea to you but it's all part of my plan.  You see, he almost always picks the number 4.  He's 4 years old and that's the "it" number now.  The rest of the candy?  What doesn't get consumed by his dad will either be donated to our office stash or donated.  I kind of feel guilty about donating candy but not everyone is as crazy as I am about the ill-effects of candy. 

I was relieved to hear what treat he wanted Buff to put in his basket.  Raisins.  Maybe I haven't failed.