In Motha Russia, Halloween costumes wear you! (Or not even a little bit at all ever.)

To be reallyreally honest, I've never been a huge fan of Halloween. It's not a holiday we had in Russia, and it was not a holiday that broke the immigration barrier when my mom and I moved to the U.S. I remember dressing up just twice in all my childhood. The first time I was Lisa Simpson. I had a plastic Lisaface mask to cover my face and Lisa's orange tube dress to wear. In retrospect, it was the perfect costume. I identified with Lisa Simpson even at the tender age of 6.

But you can't do anything like an American kid when you're not an American kid. Russian parents are all too familiar with the cruel bite of cold and they protect their children from it like the fiercest of mama and papa bears. Every American I know is always like whyyoualwayscoldyouarefrommotharussia!! 

I mean, I get it. I do. I should be used to the cold. It snows heavily in Russia. People wear furs and ushankas.

But I don't like the cold. In fact, I hate the cold and like to cover up in it - a proclivity I'm sure I developed during my childhood when my mom insisted on smothering me in coats and multiple layers when the thermometer read anywhere below 78 degrees. That's why on my first Halloween in the U.S. (Southern California if you want to be semi specific-er) I was forced to wear beneath my perfect Lisa Simpson costume a wool black onesie that my mom had procured for me over the summer at some obscure garage sale. Also we were pretty poor and I think I had only one pair of shoes at the time and they were sneakers. Summary: black wool onesie, scuffed white unisex velcro 90s sneakers, orange tube dress, yellow Lisa mask. I was a disaster and I knew it. I spent the entire night making wistful eyes at all the normally costumed kids without black onesies miring their get-up. The following year we recycled the onesie into a cat costume.

As for my fully Americanized adult life, I can say I've dressed up for Halloween just twice, both times as Alice in Wonderland. The Renaissance Fair doesn't count.

This year though!

This year.....

This year won't be any different. J is out of town tomorrow evening and my highest hopes for the night are that nobody comes to my door because a) I did not buy any candy (I mean, we're on the third floor people. What parent is going to drag herself and her child up this high anyway?), and b) the dogs will bark up a storm and scare pretty much everyone away anyway.

However, I'm not totally eschewing Halloween this year. Somehow I talked my coworkers into celebrating the day by bringing in coffee and fruit. I'll be contributing baked pumpkin spice donut holes.

Oh and I'm not such a curmudgeon as to deprive the kiddos of some good ole' fashioned pumpkin wreckage carving.

Happy Halloween everyone!

7 Quick Takes

one.
Let's start with the most disappointing and work our way to happy. We tossed out the cucumber plant on Monday due to a rampant aphid infestation that we weren't able to get a handle on. Literally tossed. The cukes went flying off the third floor and now lay in a sad mulch on the dirt below. Here's a picture of them thriving before the toss out.

two.
We decided we will re-plant cucumbers but with an onion in the planter this time, because according to my all-knowing gardening boss, those are almost as good at keeping the aphids away as a swarm of lady bugs. But why not go the lady bug route? you ask. While I'm sure that at least the two youngest members of this family would be tickled to pieces by lady bugs on their patio, I'm not sure the dogs will be able to handle themselves. Cukes are the only thing I want careening off the third floor, thank you.

three.
Speaking of the dogs, this fella is rockin' a tie these days. Who's the handsomest!

We're still keeping a semi-serious eye out for a tutu for Sophie.

four.
If you can't successfully twice-bake a potato, just butcher it into chunky pieces and stick it in the oven with so. much. cheese.

First of all, these potatoes were massive. Like, big as the four year old's head massive. And we baked them for an entire hour at 400 degrees but they still failed to cook properly in the dead center, which is coincidentally the very area you have to scoop the guts out of prior to mashing them. Lesson learned: if the guts are too hard to scoop and you keep digging at them with a spoon, the entire potato falls apart. But if you're J, the crumbling potato is exciting because now it's food experiment time! For J, a meal is not worth cooking unless it's unique or sentimental. Well twice-baked crumbled potatoes, here we came! The end result was good. Lesson learned squared: there's no real way to ruin a potato, fret not.

five. 
I'll spare you the picture, but know that my car's windshield was the recipient of fairly epic bird droppings earlier this week. A normal American would have been grossed out by this, but while I was raised in the great U.S. of A., I am Russian by birth with a Russian mother to boot. I was fed Russian superstitions as often as I was fed pork dumplings (which was often, if you weren't getting my drift). So, my immediate thought upon seeing the massive dropping was, "Yes! Some luck is coming my way!"

six.
In the spirit of the impending Halloween, here are a few other Russian superstitions I grew up with.

+ It is considered taboo to step over people's legs or body parts. It is often said that it will prevent the person from growing. My mom extended this belief even to the cat, whom I tripped over on many occasions and each time received a stern warning that I was preventing the feline from growing. The cat is going on her 16th year of life now and is itty-bitty. Maybe I'm responsible...maybe it's the hyperthyroidism.

+ Returning home for forgotten things is bad luck. It is better to leave what was forgotten behind. If you must return, you must look in the mirror before leaving again. I can't tell you how many freakouts my mom had after forgetting something important upon leaving the house and feeling incapable of retrieving it for fear of bringing bad luck upon herself. I also can't tell you how many mirror sessions there were growing up.

+ When describing a scar or other disfigurement on someone's face or body, you should not gesture on your own face or body where the scar or disfigurement was. Anytime I ever gestured at myself or my mom when describing a friend's illness or any kind of disfigurement, my mom would flinch and physically pull my hand away from my body. To this day, I feel like I'm testing fate any time I use my body as an example of where someone else hurts.

seven.
Pumpkins wilt really fast in 80+ degree heat. I thought for sure that carving pumpkins two weeks out from Halloween would help them keep until the Hallow's Eve, but I was wrong. Mold in all four, and what used to be a carving of a wolf is now just sad pumpkin mash. But then, I don't think it's normal for it to be 80+ degrees this late in October. Don't tell me global warming isn't happening. Pumpkins don't lie.

Happy Friday!