It doesn’t take Freud to figure it out…

Boss n Snurfie

The Boss, well he loves him some Smurfette. Or rather, he love Snurfette. He cuddles with her, he takes her to school with him (week two and three of school did not go as well as week one), he sleeps with one arm slung over her at all times. Like any boy he prefers her without her dress on.”I want her nakey, Mommy!”

Last night had a Halloween dream. I was struggling to get my make up on for my costume before the Boss saw me. My blue makeup. I rubbed on the bright foundation furiously trying to make my skin that aqua/royal blue combo that the lovely Snurfy sports. Nothing happened. Al Roker wandered by (because obviously) as blue as could be in his Brainy Smurf costume but was gone before I could ask to borrow his makeup. I became very upset insisting that TOTT take me to the store right then to get more blue make up and possibly a new blond wig because my costume had to PERFECT.

It was then that I woke up and the heavy realization hit me.

I am jealous of  mother f%^&**^ Snurfette.


Halloween- on the late tip.

Growing up amongst our group of friends we had different kinds of mothers. For instance, if you were going camping it was Mrs. Petersen you wanted. If you were doing Arts & Crafts you didn’t want anyone but Dub’s mom. My mom was the theatre and museum mom. She was also the Halloween Mom. A mom with a theatre degree is invaluable during the month of October. Only a mom who has paid her dues in the costume shop knows how to turn a simple empty (and very washed out) tuna can into a bracelet worthy of Elizabeth Taylor, or turn an old comforter into a ball gown of epic proportion. My mom rocked Halloween.
Therefore she happily threw a great Halloween party for me and all my little goblin and princess friends every year. There were games and crafts (Dub’s mom overseeing of course!), a costume contest (we all totally won, mom is Montesorri cool like that) it was a great time. The year I turned six was a big halloween in our family. My mom was WAY into Egypt and this was the year she was finally going to let me be the princess of all princesses. Cleopatra. The year before my mom had been Cleopatra and I was as green with envy as a kindergartner could be. The wig, the gold snake crown (I only wore the crown from the Lower Egyptian region, rejecting the tall section which represented the Upper region. I only wanted the gold crown!), the long white gown…the JEWELS! Oh, how I wanted to be Cleopatra and this year? Was my year!

Here is where there would be an uber cute picture of six year old
me all eyes and black wig.
Yes, that would be what you would be looking at if my mom knew how to work her scanner.
The party went swimmingly, all of us decked out in our Halloween finest or silliest.  We headed out for bobbing for apples (no thank you, not this year. Did I mention my WIG and CROWN and LIPSTICK!! Yes. Cleopatra wore some awesome red liptick) As well as being an amazing costumer and party thrower my mom also makes the yummiest caramel popcorn balls. Delish! She would even let me and Dub sneak tastes of the warm gooey popcorn as she made them. It was awesome.
She hung these popcorn balls and we all lined up, hands behind our backs, for the competition! Who ever could eat that popcorn ball off the string got a seriously cool present. We stood there for ages, trying our best to get those popcorn balls as they bopped us in the face and then bounced out of reach on their little strings. The parents murmurred wondering what was going on? We had all done so well last year at this game! No one’s costume was in the way…what was the problem?
Here is where you would see a picture of six year old Cleopatra mouth open
wide attempting to scarf that darned popcorn balls.
Something is missing that would help win this contest….front teeth.
The problem is we were six. No one had any front teeth. And if you are attempting to eat a caramel popcorn ball swinging from a string off the back deck during your Halloween party…front teeth REALLY help. In fact, they are necessary for any kind of success. After some giggles at our toothless expense (thanks parents) the popcorn balls were cut down and we chomped away on them happily using our eye teeth.
Right now I feel that our life is sort of like that popcorn ball (don’t you dare read that with Forrest Gump’s voice in your head. Stop it right now) and I’m that six year old toothless girl again. I’m all dressed up and ready to go (if dressed up is cute yoga pants and a tank top that says ‘Minky’) but I can’t quite get a bite, get a hold of that yummy caramel popcorn ball. I can taste it, but I can’t get it and the harder I try the more it bounces away before it swings back. I’m hoping that over the next year my metaphorical front teeth grow in and by this time next year we will be in our own place and have moved forward! Right now we are in such limbo with Zach’s career and mine too..I’m signing with a voice over agent this week, so that is grand, but the big question of NY or LA is still looming, and so far there is no clear answer. So we wait. Patiently. Or not so patiently. But we wait…having little tastes of that caramel popcorn and just waiting for the right time – and the right teeth – to take that big, fat, crunchy, life changing bite.