When things are going smoothly, going well, when there are minimal bumps in the road, I tend to let those moments surround me like the bubble wrap of life and keep my hands still. I find I rarely write about them because I hold them close and savor them.Those moments are the last chip in the bag of butterscotch chips that didn’t make it into the cookie dough. You pop it into your mouth without a word, rolling it around your tongue as it transforms from cool and firm to smooth and creamy. You lose yourself in the flavor, knowing it won’t be long until it melts away, quite literally.
This week I had a Butterscotch Chip Moment while wearing googly-eyed bat antennae and standing in the middle of a leaf-strewn street. In the spirit of the season, let me share this bit of sweet with you.
My typical Sunday afternoon accessory
Let me start by saying that Halloween has always been fun for me. I love dressing up, decorations, the silly drama of it all.
And Holy Heck on a Stick Do I Love Candy.
Then I had a baby, exponentially increasing the adorableness factor of the holiday.
The idea of Halloween is almost unbearably cute once you produce offspring. Tiny humans dressed in crazy get-ups solely for the amusement of grown-ups. Doesn’t get much better than that.
Then the kids get old enough to spout opinions on what they want to dress up as, recognize that you’re stealing all their candy, and become independent walkers.
Next thing you know, Halloween goes from, “Hey isn’t my cute baby even cuter in this fluffy lion costume” (spoken in between sucks on the lollipop you pilfered from ‘his’ bag of candy since you took a 6-month-old trick-or-treating and they can’t eat candy yet) to, “My kids can’t decide which costume they want I can’t spend any more money at Party City Get OUT of the ROAD kids! OMG I am so tired but I need to stay focused long enough to not lose my kids in this sea of princesses and super heroes on my street” in a blink.
Add on top of that our particular situation: My kids (and I) can’t eat chocolate.
(Please feel free to take a moment to absorb the horror. Most people need to sit with a cool damp cloth over their eyes in a dark room at the thought of life without chocolate. And yes, it’s just as sad a circumstance as you’re imagining.)
It is a metabolic intolerance, like an allergy but with violent vomiting, diarrhea, stomach cramping, and blackouts. Chocolate is literally poison to us.
Now Halloween becomes an annual event where I deliberately send my kids door-to-door to accept poison from strangers.
Good times.
(Sorry, did you just think to yourself, “Hey, Kim, why don’t you just not trick-or-treat with the kids?” Go ahead and suggest that idea to my kids. I’ll wait here with the Band-Aids and ice compress for you. If you even make it back.)
Now.
Toss this allergy into the bag with the typical parenthood struggle of wanting your babies to stop being so damn dependant on you yet not trusting them or anyone else to take care of them like you can and do, and I become a big irritable ball of stress come Halloween. It’s best for them if I back off a bit to let them learn to fend for themselves and make the right decisions, yet the thought of them accidentally getting exposed to chocolate terrifies me.
You see now why Halloween is even scarier for me than ever before?
Be that as it may, I put on my brave face and made plans to go Trick-or-Treating with our friends next door. Child tally, in case you’re actually following along here: my 3.5yo daughter and 5.5yo son, plus my neighbor’s 7yo, 6yo, 3.5yo and almost 1yo boys.
Cue the obligatory cute costume shots:
Darth Vader will slice you with his light saber if you get in the way of his lollipops
Princess Valentine insists on proper attire, such as a ballgown and faux fur coat, when jumping in leaves
So the time rolls around and all of us parents are walking down the street, chatting while the kids do their thing. I’m staying in the street, trying to let the kids have their freedom while reminding them not to eat ANYTHING for ANY reason. Anxiety is keeping me from eating any candy from the bag I’m holding, but other than that I’m doing a decent job of not looking as nervous as I am about giving them so much Trick-or-Treating freedom. They’re being pretty good….they seem to be listening…time is passing…
Then I realize: we’re moving along reaaaaaaaaal sloooooooow.
So I ask the kids, “Why is it taking so long to say ‘trick-or-treat,’ grab your candy with a ‘thank you’ and run? Is something wrong?”
Turns out, my daughter was so worried about getting chocolate she had begun crying when someone tried to hand her a chocolate candy bar. That prompted the two oldest boys to begin politely telling every house that my kids were allergic to chocolate, then ask if they had any non-chocolate candy for them (and generously offering to take all chocolate themselves). The people in those houses were then rummaging through cabinets and drawers, looking for mini bags of potato chips or cool pencils or ANYTHING they could scrounge up last-second for an adorable Princess Valentine who couldn’t eat what was in their candy bowl, solidifying my faith in humanity but reaaaaalllly delaying the process. Meanwhile, my son was graciously accepting all chocolate items but deliberately not touching them, so I could remove them later.
With all my worrying about my protecting my kids, I forgot that they are trying to protect themselves. And their friends want to keep them safe, too.
My kids and their friends are growing up. They are looking outside themselves, and taking care of each other. They are in caring relationships.
They aren’t babies any more.
They are kids now.
Kids who communicate their worries and feelings. My kids and their close friends all understand that chocolate is bad news to them, so they all teamed up to ensure Halloween stayed fun and safe for all.
They’re growing up right in front of me, and effortlessly taking some of my worry away.
When I realized all this understanding and caring and friendship and self-awareness, I tasted my proverbial butterscotch chip. For years I’ve been gasping for air in the relentless sea of babyhood and toddlerhood, doggy paddling furiously towards kidhood. I’m there now, and didn’t realize it.
This chocolate allergy has been a huge thorn in my side, a valid medical worry when one has two very young children with minimal impulse control. My children are able to be in control now, and I had no idea.
I’ve been worrying about every little detail, not noticing that the big picture was changing before my very eyes.
It was upon that realization I felt the autumn sun warm on my face, the leaves of trees plump with color swirling around me, and the breeze of change hug me gently before it chased my kids and their friends down the street to the next house. I waited a moment with a smile on my face, listening to the squeals of delight as they scurried up a new walkway prepared to say the words that didn’t worry me as much as they did a just few minutes earlier:
“Trick or Treat!”
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First of all, my deepest sympathies for your chocolate situation. I will pilfer another mini snickers from L’s basket in your honor.
This post is awesome. It’s so sweet that the older kids were looking out for yours. If L ever outgrows this horrible, evil phase, that’s the kind of kid I hope he becomes. It’s great to have moments like that. Where suddenly, and fleetingly, everything is sweet and tender, safe and perfect and motherhood is just as it was imagined to be.
Our Halloween was butterscotchy too. L is still so little and I forget that sometimes. Bursting with excitement and ran up to each door, knocking eagerly and saying “knock, knock who’s there?” He declined each offer of more than one candy saying that they need to save them for other children. The whole scene just burst at the seams with innocence and sweetness it was all I could do to restrain myself from smothering him in cuddles and kisses. Damn those moments feel good.
Firstly, I prefer you pilfer a Reeces Peanut Butter Cup instead. I miss those dearly.
Secondly, I’m happy to hear what a great Halloween you had. Thanks for sharing your thoughts. I always enjoy hearing them!
Hurray for the butterscotch moments! I, too, find them to be lifesavers (not quite literally and no pun intended). My daughter, age 3, had a dairy allergy until very recently, and I was stunned by how aware and careful she was, telling her teachers (and once, even her sleepy Mama), “I can’t have that. It has milk in it.” And I totally get the struggle to grant them some independence when you *know* no one can take care of them like you can. Bravo for that little step forward.
During celebrations, like birthdays, holidays, and events like ToTing, I think of all the other parents like me who struggle and try to gain some perspective on how I am not alone.
Who knew that 3yo kids could be so darn…smart??
Thank you for commenting!
had a similar experience sunday with my 4 year old son… someone had a nice selection in a big bowl for the kids to pick from, and after pushing candy around in the bowl for a few seconds, the lady asked if he couldn’t find one he liked… his reply was, “I’m looking for one that is gluten-free” and his 6 year sister told the lady that meant “he can’t have wheat, or gluten.” good times. at least about half of his candy is fine, even if not certified GF, and the rest he has no concerns over trading for something that he can have…
You know, on one hand I kind of wanted Miss A to do what Mr T was doing (graciously accepting what was offered, knowing anything chocolate would be tossed). But I’m also happy that she was taking it seriously…as were her future husband & boyfriend from next door.
Thans for sharing!
I’m still shaking off the horror of the chocolate = poison. UGH!
But how adorably cute our your kids and the neighbor kids? That is so sweet. And I love the bat antennae.
The worst part is that my intolerance kicked in when I was 15 (!!!). So I know exactly what I’m missing out on. Sigh….
What got me all ooey-gooey inside with love, was the thought that: if they are this considerate at this age, how awesome are they gonna be 10, 20 years from now? **love**
That is the adorablest, and bittersweet. Smart kids, good mama.
Lucky mama.
Cool costumes! You should know that I remembered you didn’t like chocolate, so in addition to chocolate, I also threw in some mints and Smarties. Next year I’m thinking Twizzlers and Skittles.
Ooooooooohhh Twizzlers…..thanks for thinking of me, in case we ended up at your door on Halloween. 😉
since it came up before… for those not living in gluten-freeville… you might assume that twizzlers , like so many other candies, would be all sugar and stuff and not much to worry about with celiacs… surprisingly, twizzlers are almost more like pasta than they are candy when looking at gluten-laden ingredients. last I checked, I think wheat was one of the top ingredients. go figure.
and btw, I KNOW it’s not nearly the same, but can you guys eat, um… carub ?? maybe? the kind of chocolate that is safe for dogs? I don’t know how close it tastes, and if the kids have never had it to miss it, then it’s no big deal, but for a taste of something chocolate-ish does that count? I’m not sure if it even tastes like it, or perhaps just looks/cooks like it. just curious.
Jeremy: Carob tastes kinda like butt. But in a bad way. Trust me, when I was going through the change I tried many versions of it. But thanks for sympathizing enough to suggest a substitute! I find plenty of joy in all things butterscotch and peanut butter. The kids think vanilla ice cream is Heaven, so since they’ll never eat chocolate they won’t know the pure joy they are missing out on.
I have a couple friends who live in Gluten Freeville and man, is it a tough place to live. I keep a few ‘favors’ on hand to pass out to those who ToT at my house and I know are living Gluten-free. Spider rings, tattoos and g-free lollipops usually are enough to make the kids happy.
I never knew about Twizzlers being so close to spaghetti – that’s crazy!
tell me about it. thankfully we saw that label well ahead of time. most hard candy, gummy candy, jelly beans, etc are fine, even if not certified GF… but to be at or near tops I the ingredients list with wheat? wtf?
between all the friends who are diabetic, celiac, lactose/milk affected, etc, we’re always sharing suggestions and asking about alternatives… I thought about posting a little green GF sign near the cauldron o’ candy with a little “just ask” note thinking that anyone familiar with it would do so, but then realized that almost all of what we had to hand out was okay anyways, since we knew whatever wasn’t passed out would be eaten here…
That’s actually a great idea, giving the newer ToTing parents assurance that at least some houses are safe for their allergic kid….