Can't Dress it Up

I just can't decide whether or not I am dressing up this year. Should I be Slash, a zombie or nothing at all?

I am really not feeling it. Halloween isn't the happiest, most fun day of the year for me. In 2006 the holiday changed for me. As you may have read in a past post or two, my very good friend Tom committed suicide on Halloween four years ago and since then, I haven't been able to catch the excitement that others feel.

Halloween used to be a holiday that I looked forward to because the parties were fun and the costumes were creative. When I was a kid, I loved to trick-or-treat because I walked around the development with my uncle as our chaperone. I couldn't wait to get home from school to head out with my uncle, my brother and my cousins. That's what my memories of Halloween are made of.

Now, dressing up and partying is OK for other days of the year, but Halloween is not what it used to be for me. The days leading up to the 31st are always filled with thoughts of Tom and sadness. I miss him all the time, but mostly around this holiday, for obvious reasons.

So, I am thinking I may just sit this year out because partying just doesn't seem right and it probably won't until I have my own child to dress up. (I miss you Tom.)

Growing Pains

It is always painful for me when I realize how short life is and that those around me are getting older, including my parents.

My father recently had arthroscopic surgery on his knee and they were able to fix his meniscus but not his ACL. The doctor also told him that in the next few years he would probably need knee replacement surgery. This whole situation has really bothered me because I worry. I went to his surgery with my mother because I felt like if something happened to him and I wasn't there, I would never be able to forgive myself. He's my dad after all.

I believe that my dad is my biggest fan. He thinks I can do whatever I put my mind to and that I am capable of anything. He thinks I am stronger and smarter than most people and always suggests that I try things to see if I could compete against others and win. He always accepts me for who I am and doesn't think about loving me, he just does. He is the only person that I allow to call me Missy. I don't let others call me that because it makes me feel subordinate and I don't want anyone to think they can make me feel that way, but when my dad does it, it's endearing. I am completely fine with it because I am his little girl and will always be, regardless of age or motherhood.

So, now that my parents are getting older, I am feeling it tearing at my heart. I don't know what I would do without them and I plan on following them wherever they might go because I want my kids to know them like I knew my grandparents. As an adult, I realize that I need to make my own life, which I have, but I also know that I can and will make a life wherever I choose as long as I have those that I truly love around me. Thanksgiving and Christmas are big family holidays for me, and I would never want to celebrate them alone. My family is very important to me and two years ago I was able to add TK to it, which makes it even more enjoyable for me.

Every day when I worry about those around me getting older and aging, I am thankful that there is a tomorrow and that I can take my life one day at a time.

Fantastic!

Every year for the past 4 years, I have created a stellar fantasy football team (in my opinion) and competed against strangers, and TK. Shockingly enough, I have made it into the playoffs every year and have beaten TK more times than not.

I think I know enough about football and the NFL to pick a team that can rival any other team on ESPN...well except for this time. This year, TK kindly invited our family to join ESPN and draft teams so we could beat each other up in the fantasy sports world. It has been fun so far, but I am not quite getting the result I thought I would. Unfortunately, I chose a team that sounds great, but the players can't all perform at the same time so my team score is suffering.

I am currently, 2 and 3 and, honestly, this is a swift kick to my ego. I can't even talk trash to anyone because Peyton Manning got me 7 points this week, when he usually gets me more than 20, and I barely squeaked by my brother-in-law's team, which only had 7 players because he left one guy that was hurt and one guy that was on a bye on his active roster.

If only I could huddle up my group and give them a pep talk. But, they don't know me or my silly little team, especially since I named it, "Under Worked, Over Paid." If they knew me, they would probably be a little peeved with me, so in an effort to improve my luck, I have modified the name. Following recent sports news, my new team name is "Testy Texters" and I kind of like it because it pokes fun at the old creepo, Brett Favre, who I can't stand.

OK, wish me and the Testy Texters luck!