I’ve been getting all nostalgic over past Christmases (in a good way, though) and tonight I found this picture of that time I ruined Chooch’s first Christmas by making him chill on a couch with clown dolls. (Merry Christmas, Chooch, have a hearty dose of coulrophobia!

) So I decided to post it as a wordless Wednesday-type thing because I’ve had A Day and can’t really contribute much else to the Internet right now. Plus, hockey is on.

Two more days of work and then I’m off until the day after Christmas, wooooo.

Today’s earlier post was way more bitter than I originally intended (I feel much better now though!), so here is a festive photo of Chooch wearing a slightly-too-large sweatshirt Henry bought him at the Never Shout Never show last week.

I don’t think he’s fully recovered yet, by the way. Saturday night, Janna was hanging out with us and he was telling her about how Christofer Drew took the wolf hat from him and wore it. Flipping the hat in his hands, Chooch murmured to Janna, “And now Christofer Drew’s ghost is in my hat.” It was fucking adorable. Sometimes he says sweet shit like that and I’m like, “Who are you?”

Last night, after Henry and I sent Chooch to bed, we could hear him in his room singing songs from the “Indigo” album, a cappella. Again, it was fucking adorable.

But then this morning he was a total asshole and a complete jerk to be around, so all is balanced again.

I never in a million years would have thought that one day I would be taking my seven-year-old son to a show at the motherfucking Grog Shop. Yet, there we were, 7:30 on a Wednesday night, with our kid at the Grog Shop.

I guess it must seem weird, or maybe even like shitty parenting, to some people. But you have to understand, he doesn’t have a mild affection for this band’s music. He has devoured every last song by Never Shout Never that he has gotten his hands on ever since this obsession started. He knows song names, what album they’re on, every last word in the lyrics. So I didn’t really have a problem with the occassional double-take we’d get from other fans at the venue. Are we letting him do shots of Jack at the bar? No. So STFU.

However, he still is only 7, after all, and his attention span reflects that quite clearly. So for the two openers (Front Porch Step and Nick Santino—both were wonderful, btw), Chooch was super ornery and whiny until Henry scouted an area by the merch tables where Chooch could sit. There was kind of like this long black wooden booth up against the window, and Chooch laid on his stomach back there and read his Simpsons book until Never Shout Never came on. It was kind of nice, because I was able to enjoy the first two singers in peace.

Around 8:30, manic outburts of “CHRIS, I LOVE YOU!!!” reverberated around the Grog Shop and Chooch snapped to attention. (He gets so annoyed at those girls though, and kept yelling, “NO YOU DON’T!!!”) They played until around 10:00, I guess, this intimate acoustic set full of quick banter and I realized that I really do like these guys. Thanks, Chooch! They’re entertaining as fuck.

Our friend Jason was at the show as well, and in lieu of a polite “hello,” Chooch opted to march up to him and demand, “I WANT TO MEET CHRISTOFER DREW!” He knows that Jason is the editor of a certain Cleveland-based music magazine, so for a second there, I was left wondering when I became the mom of Veruca Salt. Chooch is usually pretty good about not being a spoiled brat. USUALLY.

“Yeah, well I want to meet Christina Hendricks, but that’s not going to happen,” Jason countered. I was so embarrassed. I don’t like asking people for favors, ever, because it makes me feel like a user. So I gave Chooch a good rap on the head for that one.

So Chooch went back to standing on his seat (it was the only way he could see the stage) and trying to guess what each song was going to be based on the background stories Christofer would preface them with. He was so smug when he guessed “Piggy Bank” and I guessed “Sell Out” but he was right. So for the next 15,000 days, it’s going to be, “Remember when you guessed ‘Sell Out’ and were WRONG?!” Ugh.

At the time, I thought the highlight of the night for me was going to be when Chooch sang along loudly to Lost At Sea. I love listening to Chooch sing, and I wish I had recorded him that night, but I was too in the moment.

We cheered when they played “On the Brightside” and “California,” and Chooch got big ideas when Christofer hung upside down from the rafters. (And I instinctively slapped my hand over my chest and panicked, because I’m a mom now and that is what moms do.)

And then Chooch kept screaming, “PLAY ‘TRAMPOLINE‘!!!!” and everyone in front of us would turn around to see who was screaming but Chooch would promptly duck and I’d be the only asshole left standing, so after the fourth time, these kids were probably thinking, “Dang, that old lady REALLY wants to hear ‘Trampoline’!”

(They never did play it. And this old lady really did want them to!)

“If I ever meet them, I’m going to ask them how to buy Sunflower!” Chooch spat, because he is very angry that their last album was released as a digital download. He likes to buys CDs and have the full, tangible experience of pulling out the liner notes and poring over the lyrics. In other words, he is certainly my kid.

Anyway, after the show, we milled about and chatted with Jason for a little while, and the guy behind the Front Porch Step moniker gave Chooch a free poster, which was totally sweet. I really wanted his album but asshole Henry didn’t have any cash left on him, SO HE SAYS.

Meanwhile, Jason excused himself, saying he would be right back. Because I’m super naive, I didn’t think much of it. Chooch wasn’t in any  hurry to leave anyway, because once the crowd cleared out, the floor of the Grog Shop opened up into an open-spaced paradise, so he ran around doing round-offs and other scary parkour-y things, and we became Those Parents who bring their kid into a bar and let him do gymnastics. (In my defense, no one seemed to fucking care!)

So then Jason came back and asked me how old Chooch was. Still, my naivete prevailed. Until Henry was like, “He’s trying to get Chooch back there to meet the band, dummy.” So then I got all sweaty-palmed and panicky.

“Well, we’re going to have to try and get past all these girls,” Jason sighed, nodding toward the throng of salivating Christofer Drew groupies congregating in the tiny hallway outside of the backstage room door. This also happens to be the way to get to the restrooms, which Chooch had already visited once that night, so he was like, “Why are we following Jason to the bathroom?” I told him to just keep walking, and his mouth was going non-stop as usual. Seven-year-olds, right? They never fucking shut up!

So all these girls are like “WTF!?” when the guy guarding the door steps to the side to let us through, and Chooch is still clueless. Jason knocks on the door, and Chooch is still rambling away as we all walk into this small room. I stepped out of the way to give Chooch an unobstructed view, and that was when he realized that he was about 3 feet away from Christofer Drew. He looked like he was going to melt into the floor.

We all moved aside so that Chooch could step into the middle of the room and everyone stood up to greet him and shake his hand. Aside from Christofer, there are just two other guys in the band, Taylor and Hayden, and they were all so kind and sweet to us. But when Christofer was standing in front of Chooch, shaking his hand and asking him questions, Chooch absolutely clammed up. I think he literally lost the ability to speak, you guys, and I have never, not once, seen my kid that speechless. Not in 7 years. And then he started doing this thing with his hands, placing them on his face and pulling them in opposite directions, like he was actually trying to rip his skin open and step out of it.

There was a moment when he quickly turned his head away from Christofer and closed his eyes shut real tight and his face became flushed. I could tell he was fighting tears, and my heart broke in a million shards. This kid was in some fucking state of agony, and suddenly I began to recount all the times I got to meet bands that meant so much to me and lost my voice while standing in their presence. It’s beautiful torture. And somehow, my son is experiencing this at a very young age. I don’t know if I should be happy about this or pity him.

So with Chooch being speechless, I had to do the talking but I was nervous as fuck too! I could hear my voice shaking but I powered on for Chooch, and told them all how much of an inspiration they’ve been to him, how I have never seen him with such a vested interest in music before them. I mean, he likes other bands, sure. He likes Pierce the Veil and Chiodos, the Summer Set and We Came As Romans, but not anything that even comes close to matching this. Their music makes him thoughtful. We talk to each other about the lyrics and what they mean. They’ve opened up this emotional outlet in him that most kids probably don’t discover until they’re teenagers, I’m sure.

But he’s seven, and he doesn’t know how to tell them that. So he stood there in stunned silence. And then he held his wolf hat out to Christofer who took it from him and said, “This is a good style” before swapping out his own hat with it, and then placing his mini-top hat on Chooch’s head.

I’m pretty sure Chooch might have pissed himself. Just a little. Christofer pulled two guitar picks out of his pocket and gave them to Chooch, and definitely he pissed himself then.

Then Taylor said he likes his shoes Christofer said his Never Shout Never shirt was trippy, and Chooch was so overwhelmed by this that he had squeezed himself into a corner in between my back and the door. Taylor set out a folding chair for him in case he changed his mind and wanted to come out of hiding. And then he offered him a bottle of water, which Chooch was surprisingly able to activate enough of his motor skills to take from him.

“I’ve literally never seen him so quiet,” I told everyone.

“Oh, I know!” Jason remarked. “He was talking non-stop out there!”

Chooch kept whispering to me, “Mommy, I’m so shy. I’M.SO.SHY.” But he’s not shy. He was starstruck. I think the closest I ever came to that feeling as a kid was when I wrote a letter to Melissa Brennan, who played Jenn Horton on Days of Our Lives (I have been referencing this damn show so much lately, what the fuck) and she sent me back an autographed headshot with a hand-written letter thanking me for my support. I thought she was the fucking Queen of England after that. But I can tell you for a fact that my awe back in 1988 was nothing in comparison to what Chooch was feeling in that precise moment on 12/11/13.

I wonder what would have happened if I had told him beforehand that he was going to get to meet them. Henry thinks Chooch wouldn’t have been able to go through with it.  I kind of think it was fun to go the sneak-attack approach.

We got to hang out with them for about 20 minutes and I can’t stress enough how incredibly generous they were to make time to meet with Chooch. Between them and Jason, they gave Chooch such a great gift and I will never be able to thank them enough. Jason didn’t have to go out on a limb like this for us, and those guys certainly didn’t have to say yes. This may have been the best moment for me as a parent, to date, and I just want to start sending everyone fruit baskets or something. What the fuck is wrong with me!?

This is what matters. This is the shit I want to give my kid. Not Xbox and whatever the “in” toy is this year. I want to give him memories and experiences, things that he’ll look back on as an adult, things that will shape who he becomes. I promise you that nothing he could unwrap on Christmas morning could take his words away like that.

***

After promising them all that we would be careful driving back to Pittsburgh, they all shook our hands again (mine was SO HOT OMG, I’m sorry Never Shout Never) and we had to re-brave the horde of girls outside the door.

We parted ways with Jason outside the Grog Shop after thanking him profusely for literally making our kid’s dream come true. After we walked about a block away, Chooch totally lost it and started SOBBING.

Kid, I know the feeling.

In the car, I jokingly said to Henry, “We should have told Christofer about how Chooch screams that he wishes he was his dad every time he gets mad at you.”

“Yeah,” Henry laughed. “That wouldn’t have been awkward.”

This last week has been TRYING as far as parenting goes. I definitely feel like I’ve been screaming at Chooch more than anything else, because he is so fucking bull-headed (i.e. SO UNLIKE ME). The whole “There goes another Christmas present!

” tactic totally doesn’t work anymore, by the way. I guess I’m going to have to swap out “Santa” for “Satan.”

“SATAN’S WATCHING YOU, YOU LITTLE ASSHOLE!”

And he definitely still believes in ghosts, so I can always go that route too.

Mornings and late evenings are especially bad. Sometimes he wakes up as Contrary Chooch and will battle me on EVERY LITTLE DETAIL down to the SOCKS I laid out for him to wear. My response is usually, “YOU ARE FUCKING 7 YEARS OLD STFU AND GET DRESSED.” Sometimes I try to kill him with kindness or make jokes, but in the end, I usually end up losing my temper and yelling.

I hate power-struggles. I HATE PARENTING!

Last Wednesday night, I was walking home from CVS and he was outside waiting for me. I KNEW he was going to try to bombard me with snowballs so I sternly said, “Do NOT throw snowballs—the snow is too icy!” But that son of a bitch whaled one right at my fucking face and it slammed hard into my temple. I instantly started to cry because that HURT, OK?

And once Chooch saw that I was straight sobbing (I’m pretty good at embellishing), he got scared. He knew he done fucked up, but god forbid he should apologize. Instead, he starts making excuses and laughing nervously, and by the time we fought each other to storm through the front door, we were both SCREAMING hysterically and Henry came out of the kitchen like, “WTF?”

I stood in the middle of the living room screaming, “I THINK I’M LOSING MY EYESIGHT AND HE DOESN’T CARRRRRRREEEE!!!” and Chooch is yelling, “SHE HATES ME!!!!!!” simultaneously and the neighbors probably have their fingers poised to dial that last 1 in 9-1-1.

It’s been that kind of week.

But then there are really sweet moments, too. And wine. And those are the things that keep me from getting that artists loft that I keep dreaming about. Like the one BO BRADY had in the 80s on Days of Our Lives. But seriously, how great would that be? I’d fill it with old mannequins and pretend like they were my friends. :(

Oh, right. Sweet moments. Like last night when Chooch was talking about the Santa Shop that’s happening this week at school. He wants to get something for our friend Andrea, but he became very perplexed because “it’s not like they’re going to have any death there.” Henry and I started cracking up but Chooch was very serious. He should write a letter to the paper about how the Santa Shop discriminates against people who collect dead things in jars.

Unless one of us kills the other before then, Chooch and I are going to see Never Shout Never next Wednesday in Cleveland. Henry isn’t sure if he can go because his job is stupid and I am PANICKING about this. Chooch and I haven’t gone further than like, 50 miles away without Henry. And that’s probably a gross exaggeration. Maybe closer to 25 miles? Sometimes it’s just really hard for me to get into Responsible Parent Mode. I like it better when Henry can just deal with that and I can skip around being flighty and immature. Because that’s my true nature.

If you live in Cleveland and see two dummies flailing about in Lake Erie, send the Coast Guard because I clearly drove off the map.

(PLEASE DO YOUR RELIGIOUS SPELLS SO THAT HENRY IS ABLE TO GO WITH US, OMG.)

Look, no one wants to put their kids on blast, but it is important for me to write about the lows and not only the highs. Because having shit like this to look back on makes me appreciate the highs that much more. This is real life.

We argued the whole time we were in the cemetery on Sunday. But then by that night, we were able to co-exist peacefully on the couch and watch the mid-season finale of The Walking Dead together. (OMFG THAT SHOW IS KILLING ME.) And then the next morning, we were walking to school behind our Morning Nemesis and she was SCREAMING at her kid for pretty much no reason and that kind of made me take a step back and appreciate that at least Chooch and I can walk to school together without putting our disputes on display. That’s a small victory, right?

So no, things aren’t perfect around here. But I guess they’re not really THAT bad either. And when I do start to lose the will to parent, I just go back and look at pictures of Chooch being, well, Chooch. And then it’s not so bad.

(That fucking snowball did really hurt though!!)

GHOUL MANSION:

when we were in line a bloody nurse tried to lick us not daddy though. When we were inside we had to go down in the basement we got separated from henrys beard we had to stand in the dark which we didn’t have to it was all erin’s idea. erin was too scared to move and leave daddy alone I thought she hated daddy!

this dude came and scared us and we said “where is henry?!” and the dude said “I ate him” and we were like “no seriously” he was like “HENNNRRRY!!!!!” Then when we went around the corner after henry finally came back a clown had one of those little horn things and it was like BEEEEEP.

then we had to go up steps and a kid was down there and was like “Can I eat you” and then we finally got up the steps. and then like four rooms later we were walking down this hall then the same kid that was under the steps saying can I eat you and I was like “aw crap” in my mind. and he was like “remember me? I was under the steps! I wanted to eat you! can I eat you alive? can I eat you alive” and then finally we got through that hall and had to go through another hall and that kid was still following us. henry was in front of us and I was like “i’m gonna push you” I said that to the kid, so I pushed him and still I couldn’t get past him.

“I gave a high five to a clown it was awesome I really liked the haunted house”.(:

DEMON HOUSE

Erin got off work at nine picked up JANNA “GOD FORBID” Erin got lost because Henry gave us bad directions mommy scared me bad. Mommy lied to me and said that demon house wasn’t scary. when we finally got there, well we didn’t get to the haunted house yet, we had to drive on a bus because mommy crashed into a tree, just kidding. there was no one there so we didn’t have to stand in line. I brought Murder Victim with me, a stuffed dog.

when we got to the demon house for real we sat by a fire and a dude called our number so we had to go up and he talked to us about something and made janna knock on the door. it wasn’t scary though. it was just a cave. like a fake cave made out of fake stone. it was like a mine. Murder Victim was scared.

Once we got out of the cave we had to walk through a forest and then this clown said “follow me!” Then we heard vrrrrooooooooom three chainsaw guys came out of the forest we pushed Janna into one. Me and mommy went the wrong way one chainsaw guy said “that way.” Then we got to the real haunted house.

I hate writing.

My favorite part inside the house was going upstairs and playing hide and seek when these two people wanted to play hide and seek and they said “if you find ME, you’ll be dead!! If you find HER you’ll be safe!” So we found her. In the second room this guy said IS THIS YOUR MOMMY I was like “yeah who the eff would she be??” He was like “well she’s a terrible mom for bringing you here!!!”

Oh yeah at the end of the haunted house Dr Who was there! He was like ready for time travel? Scream YAY TIME TRAVEL! Louder! YAY TIME TRAVEL! I can’t hear you, louder! So we had to go through this maze thing that wasn’t really a maze he was like GO THAT WAY!

I like Dr Who.

At the end, Janna god forbid wanted APPLE CIDER but I wanted hot chocolate.

What a good day for hot chocolate.

I got to have a glow stick and we sat and watched Ghostbusters first then when that was over we say by the fire. It was really warm. I put Murder Victim on Janna’s lap and Erin was like “where’s Murder Victim?” I was like on Janna’s lap you dumbass! But before that I lost him for real but I got him back.

I liked Demon house I was not scared. Erin and Janna were.

We roped into Blake into hanging out with us on Saturday so I could get some updated pictures of him and Chooch. We got a late start though and were racing the sunlight, so we decided to get the pictures out of the way first before eating, which wasn’t the greatest plan because we were all fucking hungry and on edge. And the location I picked was muddy and overgrown with jagger bushes, so that was a shit ton of fun, especially when right off the bat I sank down into a mud bog while wearing white TOMS. If Blake hadn’t been there, I probably would have murdered Henry over it. But I was trying to be a good girl!

We wrapped it up within fifteen minutes, which might be a new record as far as me and photo shoots go. I didn’t get a chance to force a sweater on Chooch, so he rejoiced about that.

“Take a picture of me so I’m like blurry,” Chooch demanded.

We made Blake wear Chooch’s second Christofer Drew-inspired hat.

On the way back to the car, Chooch stepped in a huge mud puddle (that place is like a goddamn swamp, and it STINKS too) and wound up with his leg coated in gooey mud all the way up to his knee. Henry was so pissed, so Chooch made sure to say it was Blake’s fault. So then Blake and Henry got to work, trying to scrub Chooch off enough for him to be able to walk in a restaurant afterward because WE WERE FUCKING HUNGRY. Chooch saw this as an opportunity to go buy new shoes, but Henry barked, “I WILL WASH YOUR SHOE.”

We ate a late lunch at Wagner’s in Elizabeth, where Henry shot daggers at Chooch from across the table for being inappropriate and I just laughed as usual.

Chooch declared this “the best day ever” until Blake threatened to throw Bunny out the car window, which resulted in Chooch sobbing to the point where he almost puked. Wouldn’t be the same if a hangout with Blake didn’t end in tears! Brotherly love. <3

I honestly can’t pinpoint what launched Chooch and me into such a giddy tirade this last Sunday evening, but it started around the time I randomly decided to play around with the Hipstamatic flashes that I never, ever use.

And then Henry sat down on the couch with his dinner and was totally irritated because I kept flashing my phone in his face, and guess what? Go eat at the dining room table, then!

That’s what it’s there for!!

I mean, seriously. How can you be THAT ANNOYED when you live in a house with two sweethearts (me and Chooch, in case that wasn’t obvious).

Somehow, it went from innocent picture-taking to hyper video-recording, some of which made it onto Instagram, much to Henry’s chagrin. At one point, he actually locked himself in the bathroom in an effort to get away from us, so Chooch started recording his sock-feet from beneath the door. Oh my god you guys, we were laughing so hard that Chooch straight puked on the floor at one point. THAT IS A SIGN OF A GOOD FUCKING NIGHT.

Of course, it ended in tears though when we were jumping on Henry, who was laying on our bed in defeat by that point, and Chooch hurt himself on Henry and then started SCREAMING about how Henry hurt him on purpose—-hopefully the neighbors heard that one and logged it. So then I got mad at Henry for ruining our night by making Chooch cry and Henry was all, “JESUS CHRIST” and Chooch was all, “I HATE YOU!!” and then I was all, “OMG IT’S ALMOST TIME FOR WALKING DEAD” so Chooch and I went downstairs and got cozy under a blanket and made Henry go to McDonald’s to get us sundaes because we’re fucking fantastic that way.

I guess if you’re a proponent of Henry, now would be as good a time as any to bust out the Poor Henry pin.

My abdominals actually ached a little bit on Monday morning, that’s how I know my laughter is hardcore.

Chooch didn’t have school yesterday so I paid him $10 to write in my blog and then a half hour later, I said, “Oh, I forgot to tell you that $10 includes a photo shoot, too.” He WISHED he had school yesterday. We were only out there for about 20 minutes and the compromise was that he got to wear his Never Shout Never shirt, so everyone was happy in the end. It’s pretty shameful how infrequently I have been using my real camera. I guess it’s mostly because it’s kind of a senior citizen now as far as cameras go and DSLRs just don’t become “hip & vintage,” I’m sorry. Every time I get close to getting a new one, I decide I want something else instead. Or the car needs fixed. Or we need to pay rent and but groceries. You know, all those pesky problems. Oh, and we upgraded to a newer version of Photoshop which most people would stoked about me, but not me. I HATE CHANGE. IT IS DIFFERENT! HARDER TO FIND THINGS! I HATE IT. (I also have barely given it a chance. Chooch’s birthday party pictures from last spring are still sitting in a folder waiting to be edited because that was when The Photoshop Upgrade happened and I almost tossed the computer out the window.

Anyway, who cares about my first world camera drama. Here are some current non-iPhone snaps of Chooch as a seven-year-old Never Shout Never addict.

Mouth open, mid-bitch.

“Do you think Christofer Drew knows how much I love him?” Chooch asked me yesterday. Never Shout Never is doing a small tour next month to support their upcoming Christmas EP, so we’re planning on taking Chooch to the Cleveland show. It’s not a surprise this time, god forbid. But maybe Chooch will get to meet him this time and tell him all about how he wishes he was his dad.

On Sunday, we were driving to the mall and passed a furniture store that had a very dramatic CLOSING FOREVER! sign out front. Chooch got really sad about this. I asked him why and he said he was sad for the people who bought all their furniture there. He definitely inherited my whacked-out emotions. And then of course I became sad for the people too. Henry was just like, “Jesus Christ,” and kept driving with a frown on his mug.

We went to the mall to buy Chooch some more school clothes because I acted all shocked that he has grown out of his long-sleeved clothes from last year, which prompted Henry to explain to me that growing is a common occurrence with children. But since we were there, Chooch and I dragged Henry to Hot Topic where I got the new Dance Gavin Dance album and then to FYE where Chooch found the “Year One” Never Shout Never compilation and also, sadly, a Backstreet Boys CD for $3. I wont ever deny the kid music, but I asked him to just please only listen to it when I’m not in the car. (I was an N*Sync fan, OK?)

FYE sucks.

This morning when were walking to school, two people stopped to tell him that they liked his hat. He was SO FUCKING SMUG about it and said with a shit-eating smirk, “Ha! Just like your PURSE, Mommy!” He hates it when people stop to compliment me on my holographic eyeball purse.

We might not have the conventional mom/kid relationship, but it works. I had the best October now that he goes to haunted houses with me and I look forward to Sundays so we can watch The Walking Dead together and then we have discussions about it the next morning while walking to school. He might piss me off 870000 times a day (like this morning when we had a mild argument over what shoes I thought looked best with his outfit #OhHonestlyErinProblems) but I’m so glad he’s mine. AND NOT HENRY’S.

J/K. But he totally likes me better.

Now there are two people in the house whining about how they can’t wait for the next Warped Tour. And Henry is thrilled.

We drove for like, how long? Two hours I guess. idiot Janna was with us and god for bid Henry put like 40 jackets on me.

when we got in line this BUNNY-DEAD KILL ME it was chasing everyone else BUT then a gas mask dude  I wanted the BUNNY-KILL ME and the gas mask dude to chase me but then some dead jester thing came out of nowhere with a stick with a skeleton thing on top and got in my face, slammed his stick with the skeleton into the ground but henry told us to go in line with him because it was shorter and there was this glass window thing in the register and I looked right through it and saw the bunny dude’s face.

so now we’re inside and first came Clown Town. the best of all is The Fog, number 10. Each one was in a different part of the park and we had to walk to each one. and henry and janna were talking about having to pee all the time, that’s all they did.

Me and my 40 jackets.

mommy was scared but nothing was even in there!!! All I saw was when we went into the merry go round I looked to the right and saw these two clowns looking on their phones. iphones, I guess.

haunted hotel Conneaut scared me the most. Mommy told me “ghosts are real” because they are. to prove that ghosts are real, I slammed my right leg on the step! wonder who pushed me mommy or a ghost?? then this ju-on lady just came out of nowhere in this dark room. I saw it first, no one else saw it. it was like gonna slam her hand on my leg but then I did this—hop!

when we were in line after the hotel Conneaut for apocalypse zombie we had to walk on this boardwalk when it ended these two dudes came running at us. I wasn’t even scared. mommy is the one who came running behind janna and henry. then the chainsaw guy came. back to the mommy was running scared part, those guys were like touching mommy and janna and henry but not me at all.

last house on the left. I did not think it was scary, when we went in, we had to go upstairs. this dude had a metal stick and slammed it on the wall and then we went THE WRONG WAY BECAUSE OF MOMMY so then we had to go through a black curtain or something. when we went through the curtains we had to walk through a living room and this girl came popping out of nowhere and said “do you know what the fox says?!” and I was like “a ring ding ding ding ding” and she was like “good job!” and then we came to another guy who said “do you want to know what the fox says?

it says nothing!” This guy in a pig mask was like on the right of mommy and mommy didn’t even notice it. he was a bloody pig guy, just with a pig mask on.

this was after we walked through Demon House with all the bubbles at the end. After we came out of the Devils Den we passed this kitten named Boots.

It was cute. The end. Hope you enjoyed! write a comment!

This may have been the most stressful Halloween yet. I almost said it was the worst Halloween, but that’s not true, because Chooch had fun and even though I AM THE MOST SELFISH MOM EVER, even I am able to acknowledge that that’s all that really matters. Right? Right.

You know how I always said I would never put my child in a box, after spending most of my childhood Halloweens being chafed by cardboard thanks to my overambitious mother? (Just nod.) Well, it took seven years, but it happened. We put Chooch in a box.

But first let me say that I repeatedly asked him, “Are you SURE? Do you REALLY want to be this for Halloween?” and he kept saying yes, so I’m not really the bad guy, right? I don’t ever want him to look back on these years and say, “My mom MADE me be this and I hated it.” Not that I know anything about that.

Anyway, I know the Claw Machine thing isn’t exactly original, but I thought it would be fun to make it a little more post-apocalyptic. Have all of the stuffed animals be ripped open and bloody, etc etc.

Oh and also? This didn’t happen until last Friday night. Just the birth of the idea itself, I mean. And we were barely home at all during the weekend, which meant that Henry had three work nights to try and get this done. I’d nervously text him for updates while I was at work and he would give me vague responses, like, “It’s coming along” and “This is Henry’s girlfriend…who’s this?” and “I want a divor—-oh, wait. Haha!”

By Wednesday night though, he swore he was “like, 95% finished.” So then I was feeling kind of OK until I read the Halloween rules that Chooch’s school sent home which included the most restrictive costume guidelines ever, so why even bother celebrating Halloween!? No fake weapons (OK, I can understand that one!), no makeup, no masks, it has to fit into a bag, and no parents permitted in the classroom to help with the costumes.

Well, fuck. There was no way we were fitting a huge box into a bag and also no way he was getting this on by himself. In fact, I couldn’t even do it. Only Henry could, because only he could understand his own stupid design. Oh and also? Everything else we have laying around the house involves makeup and masks–animal masks, clown masks, gas masks. I couldn’t even resort to the old vintage ghost-sheet standby because god forbid, HIS FACE WOULD BE COVERED IN COTTON. And there was no way I was going to the stupid Halloween store….

….so it was decided that for the school party and parade, he’d wear his old ice cream cone costume.

Oh! And did I mention that no baked goods can be sent along for the class party? Everything has to be storebought and individually-packaged. No creepy cupcakes or cookies, no rice krispie treats or cakepop eyeballs. (I’m pretty sure Henry was actually relieved about this rule, though. One less thing for him to labor over!)

I know it’s not the school’s fault, and I know that these stringent rules have been implemented in schools all over the country, not just Chooch’s. But it just makes me so sad that this generation will never know Halloween like we knew Halloween. All those “Creepy Vintage Halloween” articles have been circulating on Facebook, but you know what? I would even take 1980s Halloween over what it’s become now, thanks to religious zealots and all of those motherfuckers who just can’t help themselves from shooting up schools. You assholes with nut allergies probably fucked this up somehow, too. (Kidding. Save the hate mail for next week’s blog post about Satanic abortions.)

It’s goddamn depressing. So I ranted and cried about this for a long while Wednesday night. I think Chooch genuinely felt bad for me (I do play a pretty fantastic sadsack), and he agreed to take his ice cream cone costume to school the next day.

And then I conveniently got a call from the school nurse that afternoon, telling me that Chooch puked and wanted to come home. I was 100% convinced that he puked his way out of the parade, but he insisted that he got sick off of a taco at lunch. By the time we got home, he swore that he was feeling better and wanted to go back to school for the parade and party. I asked him if he was sure at least 87 times before signing him back into school. (He’s lucky we live close enough that it’s less than a 10 minute walk.) When I was standing in the hallway talking to his teacher, some other mom was there picking up her kid and she overheard the teacher say that Chooch threw up after eating a taco for lunch.

“My son pukes EVERY TIME IT’S TACO DAY!” the mom bystander shared, so maybe he wasn’t actually Tracy Gold’ing it to get out of the parade after all.

45 minutes later, I was walking to school for the 4th time that day to watch the parade, which was scary because Henry couldn’t leave work in time so I had to GO BY MYSELF. Obviously I didn’t know anyone there because I’m so parentally antisocial, and pretty much everyone else was buddied up with other parents. So I stood next to the only other person there who appeared to have gone stag—some mom with a septum piercing.

Luckily, the parade was short…..and very anti-climatic. Tons of kids didn’t even dress up at all! And then there was Chooch, who was doing his best to smile in spite of the fact that he was probably daydreaming of killing me in my sleep.

“Everyone was laughing at me!” he told me afterward (and no, he wasn’t CRYING ABOUT IT).

“Because it’s funny! It’s SUPPOSED to be funny!” I cried. Yeah, I’m definitely going to bite it in my sleep one of these nights. You guys were all right.

Meanwhile, the school’s stupid costume policies allowed Henry more time to finish the real costume that was supposed to be 95% done but somehow took another three hours to complete. So while Henry did things that required the use of a ruler and math, I figured I could use that time to maim and mangle the stuffed animals. I asked Henry for the fake blood, which he SWORE WE HAD IN THE GARAGE, and it turns out we definitely did NOT have any fake blood. (I know, it’s hard to believe that people like us actually forget to restock our fake blood.)

So I threw a huge fit and Henry was all, “OH YES LET ME JUST STOP WORKING ON THIS AND GIVE A SHIT ABOUT FAKE BLOOD!” He suggested I walk to CVS and just buy some, but hey, FYI: CVS replaces all of the Halloween stuff with Christmas stuff on HALLOWEEN. I even asked one of the cashiers, thinking maybe they could just snag a tube for me out of the back, but she crinkled her nose and repeated, “Fake BLOOD?” like I was asking for a Englebert Humperdinck 8-track.

Actually, that’s a horrible reference because that cashier was like 70 so she would have been happy about that.

I ran back home after that. Me! Running! In the rain! In the rain I ran!

Did I mention it was raining? Of course it was raining—it’s Halloween in Pittsburgh. All fucking day, it was drier than a nun’s kooka* until an hour before trick-or-treating was set to start.

*(Unless it was one of the nun’s in the Italian porn we may have recently watched. And by we I mean Henry by himself because I am too classy for that, obviously.)

With no fake blood to transform the bag of stuffed animals, I focused on doing Chooch’s makeup. This part was pretty stress-free because Chooch suddenly enjoys being made-up and even dug around my makeup box for the shade he wanted around his eyes. (All makeup used was My Pretty Zombie, of course.)

The final step for Chooch’s makeup was to adhere some stuffing to his cheek, to give it that “ripped open stuffed animal” feel. Unfortunately, in order to get the stuffing, I had to cut open one of the stuffed animals, which was the whole point in buying them from Goodwill anyway. We were going to decapitate some, amputate some, etc etc. Chooch beat me to the bag and furiously dug through it, desperately yelling, “Wait! Not the dog! Not the kitty! No, not the dragon, either!!” and before I knew it, he had almost the entire bag of stuffed animals in his arms, frantically hugging them into his body.

Finally, I found a frog and tried to be all dismissive about it. “Eh, it’s just a frog,” I said with a wave. “It’s not even all that cute.” But son-of-a-bitch, when I raised those scissors up to its chest, I was overcome with a wave of anthropomorphic guilt.

“Mommy, don’t!” Chooch whimpered.

But…I had to do it, you guys. I had to slice open this poor fucking frog that already had the misfortune of being orphaned at a thrift shop. What dumb luck. As the sound of those dull blades slashing through fabric rang through the air, Chooch burst into tears. Like, REALLY BIG TEARS rolling down his poor wolf-cheeks, taking strips of makeup along for the ride.

“Oh for Christ’s sake!” Henry muttered as Chooch sobbed and I apologized profusely, more to the frog than Chooch, if we’re being honest.

Then when Chooch wasn’t looking, I smeared the frog with red paint.

Chooch, post-cry. I had to reapply his makeup afterward. At least he got to wear his Never Shout Never-inspired wolf hat!

So, that pretty much killed the stuffed animal idea. Luckily, we had enough pre-bloodied plush options, like the Batman that our friend Bonecrusher zombified for Chooch’s 5th birthday, one of Andrea’s zombie Barbies, Ju-On, a Jason Voorhees plush, the stuffed rabbit I bloodied for my Fatal Attraction costume last year and Chooch has still not forgiven me. All the while, I kept mouthing off to Henry about every last thing, all the way down to his audacity for even having been born. I have medals in this sport, you guys. My endurance for berating Henry is porn star-caliber.

Janna arrived right around this time, and she should really write a guest post about how comfortable and mellow it is to sit on the couch and listen to my mouth flap like your basic Roseanne Barr and Henry quietly simmers in a broth of domestic abuse and emasculation. I think my salutation as she walked through the front door was, “THIS IS THE WORST FUCKING DAY EV-HER-HER-HER-HER-ERRRRRR.”

He insisted on putting a non-maimed dog in the front with him, but he was telling everyone its name was Murder Victim.

I know, Chooch looks miserable in the video. But he was trying to look like a sad wolf, OK?! I’M NOT REALLY THAT BAD OF A MOM.

Finally, Chooch was situated in his box and we set off in the rain. We tagged along with our neighbor and two of her kids. Her son Josh is in Chooch’s class and they’ve known each other basically since they were born, since they’re only 2 weeks apart in age. Sometimes they don’t play very well together, but they made a good trick-or-treating duo. I was really glad for that, because this day did not need any more stress! Plus, Josh was really enthused about Chooch’s costume, which made him get even more into it.

Too bad the rain forced him to take it off after the first block. Totally broke my heart, which I communicated by being a complete asshole and stamping my feet and threatening that I was JUST GOING TO GO HOME. Because you know, it’s all about me and my feelings. Meanwhile, Chooch was like, “Erin, Imma let you finish, but not having to wear a box in the rain is one of the best Halloween costumes of all time.” And frankly, he looked adorable as that stuffed wolf, so I got over it pretty quickly. (Not without verbally raping Henry a few more times though. Because the rain was ALL HIS FAULT! Why didn’t he smear himself with his own feces and crump to What Does the Fox Say beneath the Harvest Moon like a REAL FATHER?!)

I really don’t handle this shit well. I act like every little tiny event is my wedding/funeral. And it always ends up being fine! And we have fun! And we laugh! But there is always that hour where I am such a raging control freak bitchnugget asshole that I have no idea why I still have any friends. Or, you know, a Henry and a Chooch.

So I will summarize the rest (thank god, right) by saying that:

• it rained like it motherfucker
• Henry tried to go home
• some lady in a Blazer almost ran us over and then put her window down to tell Chooch he had the cutest costume, and I said, “Thanks…FOR ALMOST RUNNING US OVER”
• Henry and I broke up over an umbrella
• I pointed out all of the things Henry forgot to put on the claw machine and he growled, “THERE ARE A LOT OF THINGS I WOULD HAVE DONE IF I HAD MORE TIME.” God, quit your job then, asshole.
• Henry tried to go home
• Chooch had to take off the box before we made it off the first block and went the rest of the night as a “sad stuffed wolf”
• Henry tried to go home
• Janna had a cold
• I called Henry a motherfucker (x 87)
• Henry got to go home

Fuck you and your purple umbrella, asshole.

Sopping wet chaperones.

I don’t even think they noticed it was raining. (Josh had a really cute pirate costume, and it sucked that he had to wear a windbreaker over it. I hate Pittsburgh weather.)

We probably only saw 15-20 other trick-or-treaters in the 60+ minutes we were out there. And most houses just left out a bowl on the honest

Tourette’s was trick-or-treating, too!!

Cast of Claw Characters

“What did you use for the blood?” Henry frowned, rubbing his wet, red fingers together.

“Paint. It was either that or Ketchup,” I said with a shrug, and then when he gave me The Disappointed Father look, I screamed, “OH DON’T EVEN START WITH ME ABOUT THE FAKE BLOOD, YOU SON OF A BITCH.” I mean, good fucking god. Sorry that paint takes so long to dry!

****

Afterward, Henry, Chooch, Janna and I went to Eat n Park for dinner, and miraculously Henry and I quit hating each other long enough to (BRIEFLY) hold hands at the booth. And now Chooch is apparently really into eyeliner. I came home from work last night and he had it on one eye. Henry gave me the “thanks for THAT, Erin” smirk.

All in all, it ended up being fine and we had fun in spite of the rain. I mean, if I had nothing to bitch about, how would I ever remember this night?!

Did your Halloween go off without a hitch? If so, fuck you.

According to the text that Henry just sent me, if Chooch had three wishes, they would be:

1. To have the Backstreet Boys sing at our house. [He recently watched “This Is the End” — JUST THE END, even Chooch can’t handle some (most) of the shit that is said/done in that movie! There’s a scene at the end where Backstreet Boys are singing in Heaven and now he’s obsessed with them, but mostly just that one song, thank god.]

2. To live in Heaven so that he can take cool Instagram pictures.

3. For Christofer Drew to be his dad.

If #1 happens, I hope I’m at work. I don’t even want to think about #2, and #3 would be awkward because it would mean Christofer would have been like 14 at the time of Chooch’s conception.

Though I do dream of being a cougar one day….

OK, I have to finish eating my apple.

Scaremare

It was at an old bank full of Gangsters.  We had to crawl twice. One time we had to crawl    like for 2 minutes. I saw a real snake and Mother didn’t see it. At the end the tour guide said ”this is the time you go in one by one” Daddy had to go first he said “F*** IT I’ll go in alone :(“. at the beginning this Old man in the 1920’s like daddy’s age screaming about the Children behind bars. And we had to sing HAHA EAGOR YOU CANT GET US NANANANA then he broke through the bars like THIS: IIII:)IIII.    This lady in front of us THAT DADDY LIKED THAT TOLD US TO hide her from the ring around the rosey  grandma that told me I stole her cat so she told me to check mommy’s weird purse so I pushed it. I loved the haunted house

THE END

Sewickley Methodist Haunted Church:

Janna wouldn’t go with us. because she got a new kitten named Ted Nugent it was to dumb to leave it alone. At the beginning there was this fake spider from the HALLOWEEN STORE.  This guy in a red mask said what’s your name I said Riley mommy said Erin and Henry said Henry The guy in the red mask said Erin more like Smelvin  witch doesn’t even make sense BUT IT WAS FUNNNNNNNNNNYYYYYY  BECAUSE I WOULDN’T STOP CALLING HER THAT!!! I got to spin the wheel and it landed on door one of death I’d rather go in door two of terror. The guy that was dressed like a girl was from a TV show called Wheel of Fortune named Vanna White. I never even watched Wheel of Fortune. The janitor which wasn’t really the janitor hung himself on a rope and had really big teeth. I loved the haunted church this year!! last year um I forgot what happened last year. i’ll just say it was good. maybe next time Janna wont be an idiot and will leave her kitten TED NUGENT that’ll teach you a lesson JANNA! LEAVE YOUR CAT IT CANT OPEN WINDOWS OR GRAB THE NOB OF THE DOOR!!!

Cheeseman Fright Farm:

In line I had to go to the bathroom. I went in the boys bathroom but there was this like 10 year old and he was POOPING in the stall and the urinal was too high so I couldn’t use it so I had to use the girls bathroom no one was in there. it was awkward.

Michael Myers was chasing everybody in line. the people in front of us were like ‘oh well crap Michael Myers is in line’

the hayride part well I kept saying hi to all the monsters they said hi back. The chainsaw guys kept putting their chainsaws in the hay right by laura she was so scared ha-ha. Anyway look at her face in the picture. Jason was in a tractor and it came out of nowhere from the hay shooting fire out from the pipes. It made me feel hot. well it did! The fire went right in my face. The haunted house part we got out of the hay tractor I guess that is what you would call it, and we were going in through a hay tunnel I realized I was in front and I was like “no no no” so I turned around and squeezed past laura to be in the middle.  Mommy was scared because I popped out of nowhere and she screamed AAAHHHH.

There was this guy holding a fake snake  but there was a real snake behind him in a tank. He was like “like my cat? wanna pet it?” I was like “oh it’s a cute cat I wanna pet it!” He was like “OK go head!” This girl from a graveyard screamed in my face, popped out of nowhere like a butterfly and I was like “well I can scream louder!” and I screamed, so.

I liked it. I had fun. And that’s when I liked chainsaw guys. Please don’t make me write about the picture with Michael Myers.

As usual, we’re at a crossroads with Chooch’s Halloween costume. He changes his mind constantly and then seemed set on something that would be so easy (and free) to pull off, so we thought we were all set, but then I had to go and be a dummy and accidentally thought of something better so now Henry’s Sunday is going to be super busy. As a child who was forced into boxes (literally) every year for Halloween, I vowed to not be That Mom with my own kid, but Chooch just might end up in a box after all. Unless we can use fabric instead.

Or unless Chooch changes his mind again.

Anyway, I thought it would be fun to revisit all of his past costumes, like the ones from when he didn’t have his own ideas yet and we could just buy something from the Halloween store.

HOW FUCKING QUAINT.

———————

2006: Ice Cream Cone. God, those were the days. (Here’s a reprisal of that costume. At least I got my money’s worth.)

2007: Hobo? I guess this was a hobo. This costume cost nothing except for the black makeup stick we bought at the Halloween store.

2008: Frankenstein. Why am I having a hard time remembering this costume? (I do remember that the makeup job sucks because I was still at work when trick-or-treating was starting so dum-dum Henry had to apply it.

Good job, Henry.)

2009: Jason Voorhees. He was OBSESSED with Jason when he was 4.

This was also back in the days when I knew how to use my camera even less than I do now, if you can imagine.

2010: Psycho Clown! I think this was my favorite costume. This was another one that cost nothing because I already had that shit on hand from a photo shoot I made Christina do.

2011: Zombie Justin Bieber. This one kind of flopped, as evidenced by the ZERO people who could tell what he was supposed to be, haha.

Also that year, we went to a Halloween party so Chooch and I dressed up in our PJs and went as a Zombie Sleepover.

And he was a Zombie Dweeb at the Zombie Carnival at Monroeville Mall.

2012: Daryl from the Walking Dead. If you ever need to dress up as someone that no one will ever guess, come to me for ideas. I’m apparently chockful of ’em. (Seriously, that year’s Halloween really stressed me the fuck out.)

So, there you have it. The evolution of Chooch. I’ll leave you with a photo of him looking evil on just a regular day. Have a good weekend, boyyyy!

Chooch and I had a full-blown singalong to this song yesterday and it was so good to just not care about anything for a few minutes. Also, Chooch is already way better at singing than me. I am miserably tone-deaf.

Chooch and me during a Saturday session of the STFU Henry club.

In other news, I go back to work tomorrow. :( But I’m happy that I got to squeeze in a sibling hang-out, lunch with my oldest friend Christy (she loves when I describe her that way), hockey games from start to finish, and a ton of haunted houses during my time off.

Chooch and his oldest god mother, Christy. They shared chocolate “mouse” together at Armstrong’s.

And today, Henry is finally back in DIY-action! He’s working on this desk-thingie for the living room. Right now it’s painted gold (duh) and he’s chevron’ing the doors. Earlier, he was researching online for chevron patterns and I said, “Wow, that looks like a hassle.”

“What do you care? You’re not the one who has to do it,” Henry cried like a bitch.

He is REALLY miserable when it comes to home improvement. Especially when glitter is involved.

Chevron’ing, motherfuckers.

We had to go to dreaded Home Depot this afternoon to get more paint, ugh ugh ugh, and some man smiled at me. This prompted Chooch to exclaim that I’d have a better chance at marrying that guy than Henry, and he’s probably not wrong. Chooch’s favorite punch lines are those that involve my perpetual ring-less ring finger, so if I ever did get married, he would probably never tell another joke again. A few weeks ago, he even said to me, “You should just check in with your ex-boyfriends, because I have a feeling Daddy is never going to marry you.” And it’s awesome when he says this shit all somberly and then EXPLODES in laughter. The neener-neener type, which is THE WORST KIND OF LAUGHTER.

Unless it’s me who’s actually laughing. Then it’s the BEST KIND OF LAUGHTER.

Chooch’s self-portrait that he made in art. It was hanging up during last week’s Open House and we almost couldn’t find it because it was the only one that didn’t look like a person.

I’ll return tomorrow with a bunch of words about my favorite haunted houses, since we’re about halfway through the season here. But I’ll warn you, I’m pretty passionate and opinionated on this topic! (I know, what else is new.)

We are outside of castle blood and my face is green for some reason like the green man in a tunnel. are quest  today was to find a scull,st0ne and a scroll I got the scull henry got the death scroll and Mommy got the stone. my favorite room was the science room and there was some crazy person in it. i don’t want to say anything about when i saw Katelyn.

Terror Town was not scary I told mommy to go in the back she was scared. Laura was in the FRONT I was in the middle. My ears were covered the whole time because there was screaming and the lady that opened the door for when we go in told us that there was real ghost haunting the place that’s what scared me  and this guy called me a chicken nugget and then a pig came over and said ohh a child ghh ghh. HI THIS IS ERIN. I guess it’s my turn to write about  my favorite part of Terror Town, which was definitely when the pushy woman in line behind us didn’t get to go in at the same time as us, because we probably would have been giving her and her kids piggy back rides through the whole thing judging by the way they stood so close to our backs when we were in line. I WAS NOT GOING TO LET THEM GET IN FRONT OF US. I HATE LINE JUMPERS!!!!

now it’s back to me at the end of the haunted house there was this guy in a grave yard and he looked like Freddy Kruger

because his shadow had a hat and was crouched down. When it was over I got a lollypop from this guy.

At the haunted trail at haunted hills hayride .com  OH MOMMY REMINDED ME ABOUT GOD FOR BID JANNA MET US THERE AND MOMMY AND LOURA TOLD ME TO HIDE FROM GOD FOR BID JANNA. the picture shows a sad clown in my FACE. personal space, NOT. when we were in line we  were the first ones in line the lady told us to get in a single file line when we were in the hut there was a cut off real head and told us the rules he said use kind words but I put up the middle finger and he saw what I did. But I was like “oh s**t he saw what I did” And the dumbness begins.

there was a grandma actor she said to me eat this rat tail num num num. And she told everyone else to lick grandfather’s heart but the good thing is that it was in a jar. And she said that she liked ERINS PURSE :tip: everyone says that.

I was so mad because I was wearing my new shoes and it was muddy I was pissed. THEY WERE NEW!!!