Noah and I have never been a big fan of Halloween. It's just not our thing. And now that I live in a condo where more people have babies/kids than front doormats, it's REALLY not my thing. But I'm struggling right now, with being the grump in the corner unit. Ugh.
Noah and I moved into this place almost four years ago. It was a new building and we were one of the first people in the place. When buying it, I remember the sales folks telling us most people in the building of just over 100 units were "just like us." Early thirties about to start a family. There was one kid, a four year old then, across the way, and our immediate neighbor was about 8 months pregnant. That was it. And then four years went by and the baby boom happened. In a MAJOR way. Literally everyone in every unit got pregnant and had a baby. Our immediate neighbors got pregnant, moved, and the people who moved in are now 7 months pregnant. People's dogs have had babies. The single woman three units down got divorced and then adopted a baby, which I think is on the way because she's been getting baby stuff delivered to her doorstep daily.
Every day around 5pm all the mommies and babies and mommies and babies to-be gather in the courtyard and the kids run and scream and the moms chat. I'm usually home around this time, or just getting home and have to pass by and wave and hide behind my front door. People used to ask me when we were going to have a baby (as if there is some choice in that), but no one asks any more. They just wave and I wave back and wish I could some how be a part of their little community. Sometimes. Sometimes I feel like screaming at their kids to shut up--I guess it all depends on my mood.
It's unfortunate that such intense feelings of resentment and sadness are the two items I've packed for my long-ass journey on IF Island. I love kids. I taught preschool and first grade. I did summer camps and have tutored. I work with kids every day. But when you can't make one it seems a little unbearable to engage in the fertile world.
I no longer feel as much anger and resentment. I've pretty much accepted our situation. But I still feel like I'd rather avoid the cute costume parade happening outside right now. Does that make me a terrible person? I bought candy and put it outside with a friendly sign. That's about as much as I can do. And I have to tell myself it's ok. I have to let myself be avoidant as I sit and wonder and hope and pray that The Lone Ranger is still somewhere inside of me, and that he/she will one day give me access to a whole other world of joy.
I felt guilty putting the bowl out front and started thinking about what that says about me and wondering if I'm just a nasty old wench. Well, I may be a nasty old wench but it's not because I put a bowl of candy outside my door. There are plenty of other well deserving reasons.
So that's it. I'm not going to over-think it. I'm too old to think Halloween is about dressing like a sexy vampire and too barren to enjoy the cuteness, so I'll wait for Noah to get home and then maybe we'll hole up and watch a movie and dream of a little boy or girl in a Lone Ranger costume riding a fake pony head on a stick.
Wishing everyone a sweet night!