Jack O'Lantern, such a pretty sight.

I think I've partially discovered why Halloween is so appealing to me.  In thinking about the true meaning of the holiday, I have researched the origins of Halloween and Jack O'lanterns.  Well, it all makes sense on a molecular level now, as the origins of it all are completely Celtic...as are mine.  I sort of knew that--all of that druidy stuff-- but not entirely.  The carving of gourds and other vegetables are more new worldly, as are gourds and most other vegetables of any worth, unless you're a big turnip fan.  The term, however, of "Jack O'lantern" is tied to a Celtic folk tale of an alternately wise and foolish, fastidious and lazy lad, Jack, who invariably but in unclear ways traps the devil.  When he eventually dies a natural and old-aged death, he ain't going to heaven (for he's made deals with Satan) and has been banished from Hell for his previous trapping shenanigans.  The devil tosses him an ember, and old lazy/shrewd/clever Jack carves out a lantern from a turnip and puts the ember there and sets about to wander for a restless eternity.

Halloween itself is believed to be the Celtic New Year, the end of summer (Samhain) being a more important time for collecting the last remnants of the harvest, counting the bones, preparing for a dismal winter.  It's not well separated from the Festival of the Dead, a time when the borderlands between the living and dead are quite thin and can be breached.  People dressed as spirits to either attract or repel them, depending on your position.  In a mysterious world these rituals surely proved some large measure of comfort.

Pumpkin carving is one of my favorite family Halloween activities, save for the scooping out of the slimy and stringy innards.  C began carving his own last year when he was 6.  I was definitely nervous letting him wield a knife.  Actually, last year I told him he could carve his own with the intent of a group/supervised activity and the nearly exclusive use of the little "child-safe" saws that come in carving kits.   As I was doing some preparations he went into the kitchen on his own and fetched a large knife and the next thing I knew he was going at it.  I suppose that might prompt some to call child protective services...but he actually did quite well with it.  He carved a simple face, seen here:

Really simple--one eye and one very large mouth.  But he did it, including the top opening and the guts.  He did his own again this year and carved a bird on a post that's in the shape of a C, and a witch seen here on the right.  That's a sizeable improvement in a year.  And that's another lovely and beautiful thing about a family tradition, is seeing the growth and development in your child from one pumpkin to the next.  S, the 4 year old, had very definite ideas about how he wanted his face to look just slightly scary, but not too scary, and sort of ghosty-gobbliny-like.  It's amazing how the degree of sharpness on the teeth convey a precise measure of sinisterness.  Seamus completely supervised his father in the carving of this joyful but slightly eerie masterpiece:

earnest eyes, raised eyebrows, round nose, massive smile, and the creepy part--sharp teeth.






On behalf of the baby, F, I spent an inordinate amount of time carving out intricate letters in the Curlz MT font along with a shaved out goblin face in relief.  I thought that the template picture was cute and it looked a little challenging.  Thank goodness we'd ordered a pizza for our Friday night activity.  Two hours and multiple dirtied implements later, we had this gem:

Seeds now separated and drying, most of the waxy goo peeled off of my hands, I'm ready for bed.  The boys are now asking for pies and the like from the pumpkins, though as C told me, he doesn't even like pumpkin pie.  I must confess it's not my favorite either.  I am hoping the Jack-O's just get covered by snow and forgotten/composted until next spring...not a bad resting place for the weary little lad.

Haunted Gingerbread House

Have you ever tried to make gingerbread? It is actually interesting and fun--if you are a baker type of person. I have tried various recipes and finally found one with the secret trick to make it relatively moist and pliable (though it still bakes up like a brick...thus making it suitable building material). It's melted shortening...which is sort of gross. But it does the trick beautifully, and moisturizes your hands while you roll and cut (wink, wink). When I've made it before without the grease, it is so dry it's not workable. I'm sure the dessication issue is in no small part due to the fact that we live in the high desert at 8200 feet elevation, which makes baking anything a challenge. But I love a challenge. Most cookies and un-leavened items may only require a bit more of whatever wet ingredient seems logical. Cakes and the like require advanced math to figure out adjustments, or use of the lovely Pie in the Sky cookbook (by Susan G. Purdy), which figures it all out for you and includes charts with every recipe for varying elevations up to 10,000 feet.

Part of the fun of holidays and home made is the opportunity to establish family traditions; it gives children predictability and anticipation, a yearly rhythm. Haunted gingerbread houses are a blast to make whether you tackle making the gingerbread yourself or buy a pre-made kit. My children look forward to this decadently fun activity every year, as of course, they partake in the decorator's dividend. I did the foundation work and C and S (ages 7 and 4) did nearly all of the decoration. S, who loves to be in the kitchen, helped with the gingerbread; after it cooled I glued the form of the house together and let it dry. I was able to use the extra gingerbread dough for both cutout extras (leaves, tombstones) and free form decor (ghosts and little ginger boys). I bought one bag of candy that had the pumpkins and candy corn, and then a few sprinkly type items for decoration. A little frosting/glue...and viola! We made a scene this year on a cake board and added landscaping. The trees are paper bags that were filled with sand and pebbles and twisted to make the trunk (you can use a bottle to make the correct trunk shape then remove and put in something weighty), then strips of the bag were cut and twisted for a creepy, bare deciduous tree. Salt dough ghosts were made with faces a la Sharpie; basically use a home made play dough recipe, mold into ghost shape with your little ones, and bake in the microwave for 30 seconds at a time until firm. A few collected golden/red aspen leaves for ambiance, and off we go! We made this a week ago or so, and the fence just keeps disappearing, corn by corn.

Here is last year's version--made with an all-inclusive kit (I had an infant at the time so went for major convenience).
A fun way to work up to the holiday--enjoy!

Gingerbread Recipe (enough for 1 house + a few acoutrement):
2 1/2 c flour
1/2 c sugar
1 1/2 t powdered ginger
1/2 t baking soda
1/2 t nutmeg
1/2 t salt
1/2 c solid white vegetable shortening
1/2 c unsulphured molasses

Melt shortening in saucepan. Add sugar and molasses and mix well. Make sure the sugar is fully dissolved (this will take a while). Sift the flour, baking soda, nutmeg, salt and ginger together in a mixing bowl. Gradually stir the dry ingredients into the melted shortening mixture. Mix thoroughly. Shape into a ball. Roll the dough ball into a rectangle 1/4 " thick to cut cookies (you can roll directly onto the cookie sheet so you don't have to transfer the cutouts which can be large--a damp towel under the sheet will keep it from sliding). Bake on an ungreased cookie sheet in oven preheated to 375 deg F. for 13-15 min or until lightly browned.

Halloween...spooky...scary...terrifying?

I love Halloween...I mean really love it: the food, the dressing up, the drama, the opportunity for craftiness of all kinds. And I've been thinking a lot about why...what does it mean? It is so apropos to the changing of the season, the approaching winter and darkness. It is a time to put on our masks and be brave, face demons, that may or may not be real. For children it is a time to test out different selves and an opportunity to be brave in the face of fear. It is a safe fear. Or at least it should be. It ought to be just a bit thrilling, with the promise of a reward for bravery (the candy, of course). Like so many of our holidays I feel that the true meaning has been lost in the commercialization. Buying the pre-made costume, the perfect replica outfit, the mass quantities of candy. Remember when it was truly home made? When you came up with something funny out of your closet? When perhaps your mom sewed something special? When you had the idea instead of perusing a catalog for an idea?

Our lovely little school respectfully requests that the children wear no masks, show no gore, and use home made costumes. It has taken the focus off of the terror and put it on the bravery aspect, the creativity aspect. They've also taken away the sugar focus and massive accumulation of loot and put the spotlight on little treats, the lovely little home made kinds, even the non-edible kinds. Don't get me wrong, I love me a Reese's now and again, but who doesn't love a caramel apple or a baked goody? So much more delicious and probably healthier, and made with loving hands. That kind of treat you can no longer give out because of the sicko who put razorblades into apples a while back. Children get their loot X-RAYED. It's so sad and so pathetic. We live in a place that is rural and not conducive to the usual trick or treating. I'm not even sure what folks in the 'big city' do for trick or treating these days--do you trust your neighbors, to what extent, how far? Thankfully our little town has a tradition of trick or treating on the plaza and most all of the merchants participate by doling out loot. But as darkness approaches, the age and gore index at the plaza increase exponentially. So we've been throwing an after party for a few years for the little ones to gather and spook each other with some thrilling measure of safety.

We make a little haunted house...well, really a closet. As my eldest gets older and into a more sophisticated phase of spookiness I am trying to walk a tightrope of thrill without terror. It is far, far too easy to find the terror. A walk down the well-stocked Halloween aisles of the local Wal-Mart is fairly terrifying. The grim reaper costumes, blood-laden masks and various implements of terror abound. I don't take my kids down those rows, for multiple reasons. But as I look at the horrific costumes for children I am deeply saddened. I cannot believe that the desensitization to violent images is healthy for a developing psyche. It is impossible to watch prime time television without being assaulted by commercials for violent television shows or films (CSI, Saw VI). A little green goblin-okay. A spooky ghost-cool. A little witch-fun and cute. Jason with the hockey mask--why? And don't even get me started on the prosti-tot costumes they put out for girls. Does a bee have to be sexy?

C wants to be "The Ocean" for Halloween. I just love it-he came up with it, and had a vision of what it should look like. We went to Hobby Lobby in the big city and got all of the stuff to make it. He picked out the fabric, some shells, some little critters and with the help of Grandma the master seamstress, we indeed, made the ocean. And a hat with a big wave. I'll post a picture if I can figure out how. But the process was a blast. We decorated it together. And I'm sure he will move around in that costume is if he is actually a large body of water. Last year he was a nature spirit and occupied the role completely.

The little ones, ages 4 and 19 months are going to be gnomes, daddy a wise wizard and I a large magical mushroom. We will be at school on the Friday before Halloween creating a fun, ever so slightly mysterious place for the children to explore another self, to be brave in the face of fear, and to receive rewards for their cleverness. I am putting together our little haunted closet as we speak, walking the line between spooky and scary and terrifying. I can't wait to see how it all plays out.

Slow Parenting

Now that I have 7 1/3 years of experience as a parent (I guess it is 12 years, cumulative), I see that the more I try to push forward in time, thought and development of my self and my children, the more I must let go, back off, relax. You see, I have gone from being a left-brained, controlled, organized professional with an agenda and goals and perfection, to being a mom. I started off as that organic-pushing, exclusively breastfeeding hyper-conscientious mom that could easily hover. I can see how and why people become that. Thankfully, I was graced with a decidedly right-brained first born son. This is the first entry in a blog I'm going to write about what an incredible gift this has been. I gave birth to Peter Pan.

I mean this in the most loving and respectful way. He gets a bit of a rap, Pete does, for being a slacker, avoidant, irresponsible. But what he teaches us is how to see the world through a child's eye, for it is truly and completely different than how we adults perceive and relate to others and the world. I see that in the wonders of the internet we can answer any question we have, any question a child has, in a literal instant. We can answer the timeless "Why is the sky blue?" with discussion of atmosphere and light scattering. We have 24 hour access to information and can bombard ourselves with it. A child exposed to this constant information, constant imagery, constant implantation of idea, constant stimulation will have little time to develop his own questions, his own visions, his own ideas. His creativity.

As I began my parenting journey in June 2002 with the birth of my eldest, C, I read so many books on how to be the right parent. "Just tell me what I need to know, what I need to do and I'll do it!" Doing things to nourish my child, allow him to flourish, and absolutely, positively not harm him. Of course, I could not achieve perfection. I yell. I get angry, impatient. I am distracted. I was horribly torn between my drive and desire to work at my profession and the feeling I needed to be with my son. But then when I was with him alone at home, I felt isolated, unimportant, frustrated, depressed. But I digress....

I'm approaching middle age at what feels like light speed, and watching my 3 boys grow in that way that seems achingly difficult from moment to moment when I'm constantly being asked of my services and energy and time. Butts to be wiped, string to be cut, tape to be dispensed, fights to be refereed, cardboard to be cut, games to be played, tricks to be applauded, teeth to be brushed, nails to be clipped, nightmares to be soothed, messes to be cleaned, colds to be nursed.... It is impossible to engage in anything else of substance while parenting--a 30 year habit I've had to break. I find it incredibly difficult to allow myself to live in the moment--in their moment, and to let go of a need--a compulsion, really--to be productive. I've been at home with my boys off and on since becoming a parent, trying on different work arrangements for size. I have a good balance now, working in my profession part time, during 'school hours' and largely being available for my sons. I can drive on field trips and bake for the festivals. This has allowed me to fulfill both of the deep needs I have to work and to be present for my kids. I consider myself incredibly lucky--my husband's income allows me this luxury. And when I step back, as cliche as this sounds, I can't believe how quickly it's all flown by. And I know that the needs they have now will fade quickly, as will their need for me and my advice.

What C has taught me is to enjoy the moment. He has demanded slow parenting. Stop and cut out the circle. He has had an incredible capacity to appreciate beauty from a very young age and will stop life to appreciate it. He has reminded me that if you live your life now and you'll enjoy it again when you remember it in the future. So many 'time-saving' devices and prepackaged foods short change our soul. Who's time is being saved? And for what? A particular gift C has given me is an introduction to Waldorf-inspired education. I was reluctant, judgmental and skeptical of this approach. It became clear in preschool, at the tender age of 4, that he was not going to fit into the usual mold. One day when I picked him up from the very sweet local preschool, where my friend's kids attended and I fit in well, and where he'd been having issues integrating into the high-energy boyish play, he told me with a heavy heart that "they'd be better off without me there."

Now, I do not intend this blog to be a debate on the right-ness, or righteousness, for that matter, of Waldorf education. I merely want to point out the positives it has had on my life and my parenting. And I'd have never gotten there if it weren't for C. What I have relished in this journey is the emphasis it has on home made. I've taken up knitting again, a craft my mother wanted me to learn though I quickly dropped in childhood. It is expected that foods will be wholesome and preferably home made. Baked goods will have a minimum of sugar. There is an absence of media images and movie characters are not discussed. Screen time is strongly discouraged during the school week. The children are encouraged to come up with their own images. They don't use worksheets or coloring books--the children create the page.

What else his school does is honor childhood. It slows down exposure to many forces in our culture that push children to do things before they are ready (but allows for those ready to move forward). It preserves the magic of that time. This is not in leiu of becoming responsible as there is much that is expected of the children, including chores, tasks and projects from a young age. But they are given time to blossom at their own pace. This has been invaluable as I have entered the realm of reading with my eldest (a topic for another post). But in this moment in time, with melting ice caps, wars on multiple fronts, dying soldiers, vanishing species, and children not being left behind, I relish taking a step back. I remember when C was 4 1/2 he devised a plan to save the polar bears and was intent on writing the president to let him know that with plenty of tape and glue their homes could be saved! What an incredibly anxiety for a preschooler. I now focus on what I can make beautiful, lovely and enjoyable in my home. I can relish that which has been made at home. Ironically I shunned taking Home Ec in 7th grade--I was on a different track. And, indeed I was. I went to medical school. I played sports. But the value of a slow, safe, sweet, beautiful home where creativity is fostered, play and laziness are allowed (interspersed with responsibility, of course), children aren't over-scheduled, is now my pursuit. Of course, I'll never be perfect, I've realized that. But my child who would not grow up at what was the proscribed pace is my inspiration...and just wait til I tell you about the other two.