Can we just have a little sit down? It is 3:07 AM, and I am awake. William woke up an hour ago and needed some special one on one attention and by golly, I always have trouble sleeping after those little episodes.
This morning, I woke up and went to the kitchen to not warm up the bottle I was not giving him, since, you know, he doesn't drink bottles being 13 months old and all....ahem. I looked at the Halloween remains in my kitchen: ceramic jack-o-lanterns on the dining room table, the large pot with leftover stew plastered to the sides, empty hot chocolate cups, my three felt spiders tiredly hanging from the ceiling fan...and I realized Halloween was over. In a few hours I would be packing up all the spooky hoopla, folding up costumes, and saying goodbye to Halloween for another year. I jokingly thought about that song from the Forgotten Carols, "I cry when I take the Tree the Down," replacing tree with "Ghouls" and realized how ridiculous I sounded. It's Halloween for crying out loud! :) So why is a little piece of me dying with October ending?
Time is passing. It is going by so, so quickly. Last night, I went to my neighbor's house and looked at all the pictures of her grown up high school children, and you wouldn't believe this- but there was once a time they were little like my own. This year, they were all out at parties and get-togethers and I just couldn't fathom that some Halloween down the road, my kids will all have their own plans that won't include gluing scraps of paper to a candy corn picture. How exciting for the coming years, but how sad for the passing ones that won't ever come back.
Don't get me wrong. I am a fan of November- there are so many fun traditions to look forward to from our "Gratitude Poster" to being with family, to turkey and gravy (yum!), to Christmas preparations... I can't help but feel a particular warmth inside when I think about November.
But it feels like all Novembers kind of blend together over time as one large happy memory. Octobers seem to separate themselves a little more. Like, remember that one year Caity was little red riding hood, and we thought the other person was pushing her stroller so she toppled over in a ditch? Or, remember that time we made Johnny dress up as a clown even though he wanted to be Spiderman so he was the poutiest clown in the whole world? Or how about that time we got the three kids matching skeleton jammies and laughed so hard as John and William did the skeleton dance? Octobers are full of specifics. It seems like just yesterday, I was pushing a newborn Caity around in my old pumpkin costume, positive she was the cutest pumpkin the world ever did see.
But that wasn't yesterday.
Yesterday, my little not-so-newborn girl joined the streets with the other Elsa's and determinedly stayed out an hour later than her brothers trick or treating. Time is passing. And in the wee hours of this November 1, 2014, I am hanging on by its coat tails. The future is promising, and the unknown is exciting; but gosh, it's hard saying goodbye to the last Halloween I have a 6 year old, 3 year old, and 1 year old, because next year Caity will probably have lost a tooth, and William will be talking and Johnny may not insist all five suckers need to be in his mouth at the same time(...or maybe he will.) This morning, life feels like an hourglass, people.
So, here I am. Sitting on my couch. Staring at our carved pumpkins with the fallen skeleton chain draping over the tops. I smile thinking about how Caity insisted hers have eyelashes, and Johnny insisted his be a dinosaur, while William insisted on eating the pumpkin guts as dug them out (ew.) I smile thinking about my awesome husband carving across from me, how he was dressed up in camo for Halloween by the time the kids and I got home from school, just to show me he liked Halloween too. I can't help but smile as I take yesterday's memories and give them a big ole mental hug. I know I told the kids that Jack o Lanterns make their exit November 1st, but perhaps they can stay a little longer...maybe just a few days...maybe just long enough to let those memories linger as "the present," so I don't have to admit they are the yesterday.