The Day After Halloween is the Saddest Day of the Year (for Parents)
Halloween is my favourite holiday, but not for the reasons you might think. It’s not because of how much fun we have decorating the house or because of how cute the kids look in their costumes. And it’s certainly not because of the candy—because we are a sugar-free house. (Just kidding. I eat so much sugar that you could probably boil my tears down for syrup like sap from a maple tree).
I love all of that stuff, but the best part about Halloween is how terrified my children are at the prospect of it not happening.
Have you guys seen the movie The Sixth Sense? You know how for 95 percent of the movie Bruce Willis is basically just talking to himself because none of the living people can hear him. (Oops. Sorry. Spoiler alert)? Well that movie pretty much sums up every conversation I have with my children ten months of the year. But as soon as school starts and the Halloween decorations come out, I can make my kids do (or not do) pretty much anything with these magic words: ‘I won’t let you go trick or treating.’
Fights stop. Rooms get cleaned. Homework gets finished. Adult women get hand massages. I don’t know why this simple threat resonates so much better than every other threat, but it does.
Before you start judging me for using threats as the main part of my parenting strategy, I will have you know that is absolutely not the case. I also use bribery. But threats work much better. The problem is that I am generally terrible at threatening my kids—they can tell when I’m bluffing.
But with this Halloween business, I am not bluffing. Maybe it’s because they know that trick or treating with two kids is easier than trick or treating with three and that trick or treating with one kid is even easier than trick or treating with two. This is a punishment that I would actually follow through on.
It is no secret in my house that I am terrible at coming up with punishments in the moment. They range from the absurd (I’m calling that lady from Craigslist right now! She said she wanted a son to go with her cats!’) to the inane (‘I will write to the BBC and tell them to cancel Peppa Pig. Just watch me!) to the short-sighted. Like the time I threatened to take away my son’s birthday party if he didn’t stop a tantrum. After the invitations had gone out. So when the tantrum didn’t stop, I had to decide between being mean, looking weak or finding some kind of crazy loophole. I have also taken away (and given back) the school fun fair, Hanukkah, and dinner in perpetuity. Based on the number of loopholes and last-minute reprieves happening in my house, you might think that my kids have Johnnie Cochran and Robert Shapiro on retainer.
Of course I wish that I were better at discipline. I worry that every time I dole out a crazy punishment as a means of gaining control, only to take it back when I realize that I don’t want to cancel Hanukkah (or leave my kids at the Miami airport) I am diluting my authority—and my credibility. But sometimes I don’t know what else to do. I mean, isn’t adult life also largely about punishment and rewards? Sure, we do some things out of the goodness of our hearts (see: leave Miami airport with fighting children, despite better judgement) but don’t most people work for the reward of money? And don’t we adhere to the law (or at least the laws of traffic and parking) because we are worried about a stiff fine?
Though the writing of this piece has made me reflect a little on my parenting skills—I need to stop taking the easy way out. For example, there is something that I have wanted to do for quite some time but I have been worried about how hard it would be to implement. And also, I really hate asking for help. But as Hillary says …it takes a village. So I am going to do it. I am going to ask my village for help and I am going to plan three more Halloweens per year, every year. Because without that, I really don’t know what I am going to do for the next eleven months.
