Julie Jay: Forget seasonal scares - every day as a parent is utterly terrifying
Pic: iStock
Vampire capes, things that go bump in the night and plenty of tricks mean Halloween is just a regular day for most parents.
When well-meaning strangers ask Ted what he is dressing up as for Halloween, he returns a blank stare, not because he has misunderstood the question, but because dressing up as a pirate is just a regular Tuesday for him. Indeed, most days are Halloween when you have a parent who can’t say no.
Every morning it is a battle between good and evil as we wrestle novelty outfits from Ted’s paws and insist he wear what society considers relatively normal clothes. Ted’s rebellion against trousers could signify his adherence to philosopher Judith Butler’s seminal theory that gender is performative and that fashion plays an integral part in that performance, or perhaps the vampire cape just appeals to him.
It may be an international frightfest at the moment but forget seasonal scares - every day of the year as a parent is utterly terrifying. Last week I watched, crippled with fear as Ted tucked into a chunky fruit bowl before I had a chance to chop it up into smaller chunks. It was only when he had finally managed to swallow the offending pineapple piece and green grape that I allowed myself to breathe again.
When it comes to the unrelenting terror of parenting newborns, it is the stuff of film director Wes Craven's nightmares. Multiple times a night I get up to make sure my newborn is breathing, not trusting the monitor because, as I tell Fred: ‘Who is to say all this AI is on our side? Haven’t you ever seen ’ (Sadly, Fred is not acquainted with Will Smith’s film about robots turning bad, but I am pretty sure it will be classified as a documentary and studied as part of Junior Cert history in years to come).
On the subject of scary movies, kids are so complicated that it is impossible to predict how they will respond. You could easily whack on a cult Halloween horror, and they would be completely unfazed, while even the most innocuous of shows and films can have an unforeseen impact on their sensitive little psyches. Interrupting the other day, Ted told me it made him sad because the Grinch had no friends, which broke my heart a little, though it’s no harm for him to learn the social consequences should he ever try to destroy a small town’s Christmas.
For our family, trick or treating is not a novelty event that happens but once a year — it is a daily occurrence. If I don’t give him a treat, our toddler will most certainly be playing a trick on us. These tricks vary from stomping his feet to crying to throwing a slipper across the room in a not-so-peaceful protest. The only thing more demoralising than getting hit in the ankle with something hard is getting hit in the ankle with something incredibly soft. There’s something very humbling about it and another reminder as to who’s really calling the shots here.
Spooks? I’ve had a few, as has anyone who has walked into a room knowing they are home alone but also trying to source the origins of a terrifying melody which seems to be emanating from the overflowing toy box. The creepiest part isn’t even discovering the one-eyed doll making music but instead finding out this doll is, inexplicably, turned off. It's terrifying stuff.
Equally, many things in our house go bump in the night, namely my husband as he hits his head off doors on his way to do his 3am business, and just to be clear, I’m talking wee-wees. It’s one of many disturbances throughout the night in our house, which is an emotional rollercoaster 365 days a year.
As a parent, night-time is fright-time. More often than I can count, I have woken up to Ted towering over me, and I am instantly transported back to Hailey Joel Osmond’s character in , but instead of telling me he can see dead people, he is asking me to make room for him in the bed.
Gooey, mystery substances are du jour in a home run by a toddler tyrant, and we can only hope for the best when our hand comes into contact with a texture we were not expecting. Anyone who has ever fished under a car seat and touched upon something sticky will understand that ignorance is bliss when it comes to kids and suspicious spills.
The one plus to Halloween is it provides a safe opportunity to convey to our neighbours how unhappy we are with their parking in the most artful way possible. Yes, when little Timmy rocks up to your door dressed as Donald Trump, be sure to forgo the jellies and arm yourself with monkey nuts, maybe even a green apple, if their parents’ car regularly blocks your gate.
Because for all its hype, Halloween serves one purpose: to give a message to entire families via what you put into a child’s trick-or-treating bag It is quite possibly the most indirect and passive-aggressive means of communication, and that’s what makes it so inherently Irish, like the feast of Oíche Shamhna itself. And the best part? More jellies for you, so it’s a win-win.
