Life’s no fun without a good scare.

It’s finally October.


I love autumn so very much, and I feel like we’ve all been waiting weeks for cool weather and crisp foliage. I’m personally grateful for temperatures below 70 degrees and the return of  warm apple cider. Yum, yum, yum.

I grew up in Connecticut and no one does October quite like Connecticut. The hills are filled with brilliant yellows, oranges and deep reds. It even smells like October in Connecticut. Everyone starts burning wood in their fireplaces and visiting pumpkin patches with long hay rides.

It’s pretty cool. I keep hoping that Michigan will also give me that warm, fuzzy feeling about the fall season too, but unfortunately it’s still 80 fucking degrees here. IT’S OCTOBER.  I can’t deal.


When I was a kid, my dad and stepmom lived on Meadow Street in Litchfield. Good ‘ol Meadow street. It was a legendary destination for a young trick or treater in the upper west corner of the constitution state. The street was always filled with hundreds of kids and their parents knocking on every door. Meadow Street was the place to be. My dad would dress up as a scarecrow and scare the bejesus out of poor, unsuspecting adolescents. BOO!

My mom on the other hand, went through this weird phase where she and my stepdad felt that Halloween was an evil holiday. The Devil’s night. She made me spend a halloween in a church basement bobbing for apples. I remember seeing other peoples spit floating in the water. It was gross, SO GROSS. Luckily, they moved past the ” Halloween = Devil Worship” phase pretty quickly.


In college, I used Halloween as an excuse to dress up like an absolute idiot. Tight, sparkly, dumb costumes that showed off my greatest asset.

73846_659646716017_641514_n*you can practically see my vagina with these shorts*

1909653_537747028967_6937_n*ok, this one was LEGENDARY*

My ass.  (Side note: I’ll lock my children up until they’re forty years old if they ever try to pull that shit and leave the house looking the way I did.)

So, now that I have a few kids, I try to think of some really clever costumes.

That’s a lie. I tried once and I failed.

I thought it would be perfect for my daughter Fiona to be an apple. Unfortunately, no one got it. She looked like a tomato. Honestly, I was pretty shocked that NO ONE EVEN KNEW WHO FIONA APPLE WAS. How can you not know who Fiona Apple was? A LIVING LEGEND PEOPLE, A LIVING LEGEND.

1460241_10100952383877357_199712072964343860_n*Fiona Apple*


Last year, I let Fiona decide what she wanted to be. She immediately told me that she was going to be Elsa (DUH.), Maeve would be Ana, Daddy would be Kristof, Wrigley (our super annoying, and yet extremely lovable dog) would be Sven and I would be Olaf.

Lucky me. I had a big ‘ol preggo belly, so Olaf wasn’t that much of a stretch. Although, I did ask if I was appointed to be Olaf as a fat joke.

14937464_10101737495078217_3810649289040867636_n*Good times people, good times*


So, now that this haunting season is upon us, my children have taken a very strong liking to ” The Nightmare Before Christmas” and ” The Corpse Bride”. They are obsessed with all things scary. I let them watch ” Coraline” today, and I’m pretty sure I was more horrified than the both of them. Last year, Fiona found some googley eye balls at the store. She then proceeded to hide them all over the house with the hopes that we would stumble upon them and scream with fright. (I found eyeballs all over my house until Christmas. Seriously.)

maxresdefault*nothing creepy about this at all…*


This is all very puzzling to me, because I won’t even go in a damn haunted house. NOPE. NEVER. The last time I attempted to go inside one, I had to be removed by paramedics, because I had an asthma attack.

I know. Laugh all you want, but that effing clown room ruined me for life.


This year Fiona decided that she and Maeve are going to be witches. My theory behind this is that they both want to learn some spells to cast upon me. They’re running out of ideas of how to torture me everyday. I’m not even kidding. I thought it might be kind of funny if we dressed Lucie up as Lucifer, but that didn’t go over very well.

Apparently, I’m the only one that thought dressing up my eight month old baby as the devil was a good idea. (Get it? Lucille as Lucifer? BRILLIANT!)


In the meantime, I’m going to scout out places in my house where I can hide every single Reese’s peanut butter cups that they get from my neighbors. Perhaps, I’ll set up some booby trap of my own with some googley eyes.

Trick or treat my friends, trick or treat.







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