Trick or Treat? Definitely Treat.

I absolutely loved Halloween as a kid. I couldn't wait to get dressed up in a fun costume and go door to door begging for candy (and I always knew which houses had the best candy). The best part was coming home and checking out my haul. I remember my mom thoroughly inspecting all the candy (because, you know, what if some sicko put a needle in a piece of candy?), and then hanging the candy bag in the laundry room to slowly parcel out my haul. I trick or treated until well past the time it was probably acceptable (I'm talking until I was a senior in high school).

When I went off to college, I felt like Halloween would never be as fun as it was when I was in high school...but, I was wrong. I loved getting dressed up and going to Halloween parties with friends. This was even better than trick or treating! Then, I graduated college.

As I moved into adulthood, I assumed that Halloween would never be as good as it was in college. But, I was living in New York City, and I had no idea just how fun Halloween could be. I loved picking a good costume, going out to bars with friends, and I loved every minute of it. Halloween just kept getting better and better with each new stage of life.

When I moved out of the city, I expected Halloween would still be awesome. My first Halloween in the suburbs, I picked out a costume weeks in advance (ok, months...), and couldn't wait to get dressed up and go out. I went to a Halloween party at my ex-best friend's house (don't ask). It was fun, but it wasn't the kind of Halloween fun I was used to. It was my last Halloween party. I quickly learned that Halloween as an adult isn't really that fun. I no longer picked out costumes because I knew that I wouldn't be going out.

When I bought my own house, I learned to hate Halloween. I couldn't stand the doorbell constantly ringing. Every time I'd sit down, I'd have to get back up to answer the door. If I didn't get to the door fast enough, the local kids would incessantly ring my bell or pound on my door. The doorbell would ring well into the night, even long after I'd turned off all the lights (which was a tremendous nuisance after I had kids!). It was just annoying and not fun. I didn't dress up anymore (once in a while I'd wear a Halloween shirt), and I certainly didn't buy costumes anymore.

Then I had kids. I planned their costumes months in advance, and I loved dressing them up. But, I didn't take them trick or treating until they were almost 3. At almost 1 it felt like trick or treating was just me using them as a ploy to get free candy (because, let's be honest...we all know that parents who trick or treat with babies are really eating the candy themselves). At almost 2, I considered it, but I didn't think they'd appreciate it and I really didn't want them to have all that candy, anyway. Almost 3 just seemed like the right time. They enjoyed getting all the candy, but were very shy going to peoples' homes. It was fun until they decided they didn't want to walk anymore and they had to be carried home. It was even less fun when they threw tantrums for the next week because they couldn't go trick or treating again.

This year, my kids picked their own costumes for the first time. They seemed to understand Halloween and genuinely looked forward to it for weeks. We signed up to go to a party in our soon to be neighborhood (supposed to move in next week...here's hoping!). The kids were so excited to put on their costumes and go. The adults (me, my husband, and two of our closest friends) even donned costumes this year--ketchup, mustard, a hot dog, and a hamburger. We got dressed up, took pictures, and went to the party. We ate our faces off and then decided to go trick or treating around our soon to be neighborhood.

While we were walking from house to house, I was telling my friend how much I don't like Halloween as an adult. She was genuinely shocked. I told her that I couldn't stand giving out candy all night, constantly running back and forth to the door. She looked at me like I was crazy and said, "Just keep the door open, or set up a table and sit outside." I looked at her like she had 7 heads. After all, doesn't she get that Halloween is the end of October and it is typically freezing outside?

...Except, now I live in Florida. It's typically freezing outside IN NEW JERSEY. I looked around and saw that almost every house had a table set up out front with people sitting outside and socializing. My kids were no longer shy--they were running from house to house with some of the other neighborhood kids. Some neighbors had tables set up between their houses and were socializing while trick or treating was going on. Everyone was enjoying themselves--adults and kids alike.

And for the first time in a very long time, I remembered just how much I loved Halloween. I am now genuinely excited for next Halloween, when I will finally be in my house, and after taking my kids trick or treating, I can set up my own table in my driveway, enjoy the warm evening, socialize with my neighbors, and enjoy some of that Halloween magic once again. (Plus, it doesn't hurt that I don't have to bundle me and my kids in layers upon layers just to beg for some candy.) Time to start planning next year's costumes.

This round? New Jersey: 0; Florida: 1.

What. A. Week.

This past week was probably my hardest week since my kids were born (emergency c-section preeclampsia, preemies, NICU...oy.).

Let's backtrack to last Friday. Last Friday night was homecoming at my school--big, huge event. I had my nanny bring the kids (since hubby is traveling, which he does quite frequently) and we had a ton of fun. I loved watching my kids hang out with the other faculty members' kids. But, I noticed my son was congested. He had been napping in the car on the way there, so I figured it was nap congestion and chalked it up to a whole lot of nothing.

The next morning, we were flying back to NJ...this was a BIG, HUGE deal. Besides the fact that this was my first trip back to NJ since moving to FL, I was flying solo with the kids for the first time. That's right. Me. Two 3 1/2 year olds. Airplane. To say I was nervous was putting it mildly. On top of that, our flight was at 6 am (my choice...they tend to do really well on early morning flights), so that meant I had to get up at 3 am. So, by 9 pm, I was snuggled into my bed, all packed and ready to go.

And then I heard it.

My son was sitting up in his bed crying. When he wakes up from a dead sleep and sits up in his bed crying, it can only mean one thing....

PUKE.

I scrambled down to his room and tried to catch it. But, no. He puked all over his favorite sleep buddy...his doggy (which HAD to come with us to NJ...this mama scrambled to wash it in the sink and leave it to dry overnight...it was still damp the next morning, but came with us anyway). It was just mucus (or as I like to call it, the mucus pukus), so I was relieved that it didn't seem to be a stomach virus, but when he was breathing, he sounded like he had the croup...that seal bark. I put him in my bed to sleep so I could watch him (thankfully no puke hit his bed) I panicked, texted the doctor frantically to see if I could still take him on the plane the next morning, and prayed that he would be alright. Doctor said it's not croup and gave us the green light.

Needless to say, I didn't sleep much that night. Got up at 3, got myself ready, got my kids ready at 3:30, and out the door we went. Both were in great moods and they were absolute dreams on the flight. They even let me catnap for 5 minutes here or there.

That night, my son woke up again with the mucus pukus. He was sleeping in my parents' bed, but needless to say, he ended up in my bed again. Night two of no sleep. The next day, other than briefly falling asleep on my mother in law (which is unlike him, but I figured poor night's sleep and no nap...), he was his usual, silly, happy self. We had a huge family dinner, and it was a joy of a night.

That night he chose to sleep with my parents again. He woke up around 10:30...I had just fallen asleep. Fever and miserable. I got him to take medicine, but I kid you not when I say he was literally up the entire night. I only slept from 6 am until 7:30 am. My daughter slept with my parents and I could hear her up during the night as well. She also had a fever. Both kids were complaining that their ears hurt. Night three of no sleep. Oh...I also came down with something as well.

Well, we were supposed to get on a flight that day and I was so afraid of their ears on the plane if they had ear infections. I took them to a walk-in and their ears were clear. Once again, we got the green light to fly. This flight was in the evening...after a night of no sleep and a no nap day...with two sick kids and a sick me. I was expecting the worst. Thankfully, my son slept for most of the flight and my daughter just played with her iPad and was a dream. She even let me catnap again. Even with an extra hour of circling in the air before we landed (to which neither my daughter nor me were very pleased), they were still rockstars. People actually told me how well behaved my kids were and many people offered to help me get them and my bags off the plane. (My faith in humanity was restored for the time being.)

We got home and got right into bed. Well...both kids took turns waking up at night. My son was miserable and feverish and begging to sleep in my bed. My daughter was coughing up a storm. At 6:15 am, I finally brought him into my bed as I was getting ready for work...and I saw blood on his pillow. His lips looked chapped, so I chalked it up to that. Until I saw the blood and mucus that had dried in his ear. Enter full-on panic mode. Turns out he did rupture his eardrum on the plane (exactly what I had been afraid of happening!).

To go quickly through the rest of the week...she got better (still sick, but mostly congestion), he remained feverish and sad. He would literally wake up whimpering in the middle of the night (it's the saddest thing!). Turns out he has RSV. (It's a nasty respiratory virus that attacks young kids and the elderly...for those of us who are in neither of those categories, it just feels like a bad cold.) What does that mean? 10-15 days of This. 10-15 days of no sleep (seriously...the last time I had a good night's sleep was last Thursday...no, not the one two days ago, I'm talking over a week ago). 10-15 days of fever, and crying, and boogers, and whimpering...but, at least the mucus pukus has stopped.

Now...as if that wasn't hard enough, let's add on my first Florida hurricane. Hurricane Matthew was slated to hit my area...a full Category 4 hurricane. I literally had no idea how to prepare. My husband is still traveling for work and couldn't get home. My school closed for two days in anticipation of this major storm (I experienced my first hurricane day instead of snow day!). I had two sick kids, I'm still sick, and I'm staring down a Category 4 hurricane. I had friends and family in my ear telling me where to go, what to do, how to do it...my mind was spinning. Inside I was a total mess. Outside, I held it together pretty well.

In the end, me, the kids, and the nanny holed up in a hotel. Which meant it was me and the kids in a queen size bed. For two small humans, they take up a lot of room. I literally had no more room than my leg. Nope...not exaggerating. I was hanging off the bed. If I tried to move one over to give me more space, they would just scoot closer to me. So, that's another night of no sleep, on top of the stress, the illnesses, and the being out of our home. Even though I had my nanny there to help, my kids only wanted me. So, it meant that I constantly had one or two little humans vying for my attention, crying if they weren't getting it, and climbing on me. Good times.

Turns out, thankfully, Hurricane Matthew kind of skirted past our area. All we got was a little wind and some rain--it was basically a major rainstorm. The worst that happened was that one palm tree lost one leaf. Seriously. For that, I couldn't be more thankful.

But, my nanny left me to go back to her own life yesterday afternoon, and since then it's been a sick me, with two sick, whiny, clingy kids. Over the last day, while my son has gotten better (not completely, but we are on the mend), my daughter and I have gotten worse.

What does that mean? Both kids whine at me, yell at me, cry for me, and cling to me. Top that with the fact that they are threenagers who don't listen, and you have one mama who has reached her limits. I feel terrible when I lose my patience on my sick kids and yell at them. But, this mama is so done. My thermometer may not tell me I have a fever, but I feel it...the aches, the chills, the headache...all of it. My body may be functioning, but I seriously miss sleep...and I know I won't be seeing a good night's sleep for a long while yet. And, so, tonight, this mama went out into the garage and cried. I went into the garage so my kids wouldn't see me. I got away because one was sleeping on the couch and the other was bribed with YouTube on the iPad. I have hit rock bottom and it sucks.

Here's the thing...when I was in NJ and a situation like this would arise, I had an extensive support system. The majority of my family was in the same town, I had friends who would drop their stuff if I needed it to come help, and I knew that someone was always nearby. Here? That's a different story. In FL, I have three friends who I consider close--but, it's not their responsibility to come help me. The one married couple is busy with their own life, and, quite frankly, I rely on them a lot, and I feel like they are not responsible for us, and I need to give them some space. My other dear friend lives a half-hour to 40 minutes away and has kids of her own. I have no family here that I can rely on and the rest of my "friends" here are people who I talk to once in a while and we hang out if we can make time for it. I feel like a single mom in a strange place.

So, in this round...it's
NJ-1; FL-0.

Does it mean I want to go back to NJ? Nope. I still love it here. But, it does mean that this week has sucked and that I miss my support system. That's all.