Why I Chose to be Katniss Everdeen from the Hunger Games for Halloween

Being a parent is hard.  Logistically speaking, it’s a lot of packing lunches and snacks, cloning myself so I can simultaneously be at both a T-ball game and swim practice.  But that’s just the surface.  These kids are watching every single thing I do.  I feel a lot of pressure to not just talk the talk, but also walk the walk.

I don’t like to say eat vegetables, and then never eat a carrot stick myself.  I don’t feel right to talk about the importance of reading and never open up a book.

I can’t say pick out an appropriate Halloween costume and then choose to be a sexy Olaf.  (Seriously, click on this link if you want to be horrified by a sexy snowman).

This year, Harrington and I were invited to an adult costume party.  At first, I didn’t think too much about picking a costume since dressing up for Halloween is not my jam.  But Marie took it upon herself to find research costumes for us. 

No surprise that every. single. costume. was sexy.   A sexy flapper. A sexy Red Riding hood. A sexy zombie. A sexy Beetlejuice. Really, a sexy Beetlejuice? The costume had a corset with a super short skirt.  That’s not Beetlejuice at all!

courtesy of Party City 

I was frustrated on many levels.   I was frustrated that these costumes didn’t really register with Marie as gratuitously sexy (which I guess is a good thing when I really think about it).  When I looked at the costumes in the junior section, the same ones Marie will pick from in a year or two, I felt nothing less than rage-y.

That is when I decided to take this Halloween costume dilemma into my own hands. I needed to show Marie that a catalog filled with sexy costumes does not dictate what I should wear.

I dressed as Katniss, the strong female character from the HungerGames series. I wore my work out clothes bought a mockingjay pin and a bow. I didn’t fall for the sexy huntress that I could have easily bought.  (Who hunts in a short skirt and stiletto heel boots)?!  Harrington dressed as Peeta.  He wore his black warm-ups, and I made him a District 12 sign to wear.

  

I know that I am not alone in this war against sexy costumes.  I love the conversation Angela from Jumping with Your Fingers Crossed had with her daughter about feminism and her Halloween costume choice.  I hope that one day Marie and I will have an organic conversation about this because I feel very strongly that a woman should not be valued according to how cute she looks in a sexy corn costume.  (Seriously, corn.  Go home corporate Halloween costume creators, you’re drunk).  

I know feminism is all about choice; if that choice is to dress sexy, that is a valid choice. However, if a girl or a woman wants to dress up as a firefighter, her only choice is a sexy firefighter.  So it’s not really a choice at all.  By not putting any other costumes on the market other than sexy ones, I feel that girls are being told this is the only way to be.  I don't want Marie thinking that her only choice is to be sexy, and I don't want Thomas to think that is what he should expect from women. 

Changing the world by taking on corporate America seems impossible at this time since I have a hard time remembering changing my sheets. But I could show Marie by example that she didn't have to feel bound to the choices that someone (probably a room full of guys) thought were a good idea.

I don't know if it will ever register that their mom made a choice that exuded dignity, but hopefully it will be filed away for another time (and never look twice at the sexy corn costume).

What are your thoughts on sexy Halloween costumes?

My Art Therapy: Halloween DIY Decorations

Teaching junior high was one of the hardest things I have ever done.  Convincing eighth graders the importance of subject verb agreement, especially when a prepositional phrase came between the two, was excruciatingly difficult.  

I remember the day this mom came in to dispute her daughter's homework grade.  She demanded that the verb should agree with object of the preposition.  When it agreed with the subject, it sounded "ghetto."  (Her words, not mine).

I tried not to be spin into a downward spiral of rage as she questioned not only me, but the grammar book’s instructions that were clearly printed *on the same page;* however, I was completely distracted that she looked and sounded just like Joey's agent on Friends.  The only thing missing was a cigarette, but judging by the smokey smell emanating from her poufy hairdo, I’m guessing she had one in the parking lot before she arrived at my classroom.

On soul crushing days like that, I would need to do something to alleviate the anger and frustration. And since I wasn't the kind of teacher to keep a flask filled with alcohol in my desk, I kept a box of Crayola crayons (the 24-count box to be exact; 8 and 16 never seemed like enough, and I didn't have space in my desk for the best box of 64) and my Celestial Seasonings Tea Coloring Book.  No matter how much I wanted to tell someone to go to hell, my anger always dissipated when I had completed coloring and created something pretty.

Earlier this week, I needed some art therapy. For the past few days, I had let the fear and frustration of others bring me down.  So I took out some cards stock, Modge Podge, and some Halloween cutouts that I bought for a rainy day. 

I had some calming chamomile lavender tea and played my Andrew Sisters Pandora station.
I may be 94 years old.

Here is what I created.

I took a Halloween cutout and used some glossy Modge Podge to glue it on some brown card stock.

I let it dry overnight before I cut it.

I then used these double-sided foam stickers and stuck it on orange card stock.

Then I stuck it to the paper. . . 

and cut out the outline . . . 

then used a hole punch.  

I took some jute and tied a knot.  I hung it up with some other decorations.

I always wanted to use these chipboards, but I never knew what to do with them.
I traced the shape with orange construction paper.

I used some Matte Modge Podge to glue it to the chipboard.
.  Here's a tip: less is more. I had to work out all of the air bubbles before it dried.

I took another cutout and traced it on brown card stock.  I glued it with a regular glue stick.

I glued it to the chip board with Matte Modge Podge.

I used some scissors to push through the holes that were already there
and tied the jute in a knot.

I then hung it from our cabinet.  I am not going to quit my day job(s),
but I am pretty proud of how it turned out.

This was a final product that didn't turn out quite like I had hoped.
I used the Matte Modge Podge, but it kind of curled up more than I wanted to.
I still used it and punched a whole to hang it up.

For this one, I just used those double-sided foam stickers and cut around it.

Same for this one.

Here is what they all look like hanging above my kitchen sink.
I almost used orange curling ribbon, but I am glad I used the jute.
It goes nicely with the brown card stock.

When I was done, I felt that same sense of accomplishment and peace when I was done coloring.  Plus I had some cute decorations to hang up in the home.

Do you have a favorite activity that saves you from stress?

On my Thirty-Seventh Birthday

Today I turn thirty-seven years old.  Thirty-seven is not a milestone birthday.  It’s not like 25 or 30 or 40.  But something about thirty-seven feels like a milestone for me.

Maybe it’s because I have turned a corner with both kids in school, and I’m working from home.  Maybe it’s because I can practice yoga twice a week.  I don’t know.  But I do know that I feel more contentment and peace than I have in a long, long time. 

I mean not perfect contentment that I imagine I would feel if I were chanting ohm on a secluded mountaintop.  More like less angst-y and restless.

I remember when I started my third decade, I spend quite a few nights waking up and running to the bathroom to dry heave and cry.  At first I thought I had the flu or maybe pregnant. 

When neither turned out to be true, I decided maybe I was unhappy.  But how could I be unhappy?  I was happily married and had a beautiful daughter who was deliciously adorable at two years old.

When I quieted my mind and clocked some serious time at my therapist’s office, I came to the conclusion that I was just letting in too much – too many opinions of others, too many judgments, too many self-harming comments.  I couldn’t honor these outside forces and still have enough energy to raise Marie.

So I started to say no to things that made me feel bad. I said no to thing that made my gut red hot with dread.  I said no to things that made me feel drained and sad.  This was not easy at all.  I mean, saying no kind of goes again first-born daughter code.  There were times when I think it would have been easier to join the witness protection program than face my fears of letting anyone down as I decided to live life on my terms.

Which is what was the stem of all my itchy, uncomfortable feelings of going with a flow that was not meant for me.  So little by little, I created something I had never before experienced: personal boundaries.

I didn’t have the language to explain this transformation until I heard Elizabeth Gilbert speakat Oprah’s Life You Want Weekend.  She called her journey a Quest and talked about how it started with crying on the bathroom floor, knowing that she was not on her right path.  Which led her on journey to answer the question: What have I come here to do with my life? 

Wait - there was a name for this?  A Quest?!  I thought I was just going about my business trying to find some way to make sure I didn’t implode while raising my daughter.  But yes, when she explained exactly what a Quest is, I was indeed on one of my own.

She talked about how The Quest is filled with self-doubt and uncertainty that there will be trials, but ultimately when finished, fear is shed.

In fact, all the difficulties were inevitable.  Elizabeth shared that she used to pray for changes in her life, but without all the mess and upheaval.

And with that, the past seven years of my life were validated.  I guess I had the preconceived notion that personal transformation would be a blissful journey. Yes, I was making changes that felt like were aligned with who I really was meant to be, but shit, it was hard.  And messy.   And uncomfortable.

But it would have been more uncomfortable to stay and cry and dry heave and live a life on a path that was not for me than to figure out how I fit in this world.

So I am going to celebrate this non-milestone milestone birthday.  With cake.  Champagne.  Family.  Food.

I did it.  I am on My Quest.  And even thought it’s not easy, it feels pretty damn good.

This Week Didn’t Go According to Plan

This week was one of those weeks where I had to concede to the fact I cannot do everything.

I know this sounds really obvious, but I carefully organize my days so I can do *everything*.  My day looks incredibly doable on paper, but it has yet to work out the way I would like it to.

I am juggling a lot of balls while walking on a fine tightrope of balancing life and work, and all it takes is one unforeseen event to cause a misstep and everything goes tumbling.  I try not to get frustrated, especially since it’s only been a month that I’ve been attempting to manage all of my stuff.  And I love all of the stuff I am doing – working with great people at Hay ThereSocial Media, teaching at Walsh College, working on my blog so it’s not like I’m complaining.  But if I could just have 26 hours in a day, I feel my beautifully orchestrated days would become a reality.

 See, when Thomas went off to school fulltime, one of the things I wanted to do was really focus on my writing skills.  And ironically enough, I found HerStories Personal Essay Boot Camp. This has been such a wonderful learning experience, and unlike other attempts to practice the craft of writing, I am actually held accountable with deadlines and group members.

This week our essay is due.  And I’ve been working really hard on it in between everything else.

While I am learning some new storytelling techniques, I think it is interesting that it brought me back to my first love: journaling.  I have been wanting, actually needing, to go back to this form of writing so it feels right.

But that meant not writing the blog post I had wanted to write this week. 

It is always a humbling experience when I set these lofty goals for myself and then have them not happen the way I had envisioned.  But I did find my way back to journaling so maybe it wasn’t that bad of a week.

Next week will be better (although I said that about this week, too). 

How was your week?  Did you finish what you needed to accomplish?  Or did your life take you on a detour?