Project Costume

This was the first column I wrote for "That's Another Story" in October 2008. It's an oldie but a goodie.


In the world of Halloween costumes, either you’re in or you’re out.

In this episode of America’s favorite fashioned-themed reality show, three sets of parents are challenged to come up with the best Halloween costume they can for their child. They have just 31 days to do it and a budget of only $30. Let’s meet our contestants.

Allison and Adam’s 7-year-old son Zachary loves superheroes. He’s a fan of Spiderman, Batman, and Captain America, but this year he’s told his parents that he wants to be the man of steel: Superman. With two full-time jobs between them, how will this couple find time to make their son’s Halloween dream come true?

Gina and Tom are not surprised that their 2-year-old son Ryan wants to be a firefighter this year. He has been obsessed with fire trucks for the past six months, and they’ve already got a helmet that Ryan wears for dress up.

Laura and Ben are the parents of an adorable princess-loving 4-year-old named Elizabeth who wants nothing more than to be Disney’s Sleeping Beauty. Authenticity is the key when it comes to this costume. The dress must be an exact replica of the one in the movie, right down to the color she describes as “a big dip of ruby.”

Two weeks into the competition, and Allison and Adam are spotted at Target in the costume aisle. Zachary has happily pointed out the Superman costume, which includes a one-piece outfit with enhanced muscles, a cape, a mask, and boots. The price tag says $24.99 so they throw in a plastic pumpkin for collecting treats and head to the check out.

Back at home, Gina and Tom rifle through Ryan’s closet and pull out his yellow raincoat, his dress-up firefighter helmet, and his rain boots. After they try the outfit on him, Ryan decides that he really is a firefighter and proceeds to wear the outfit all day, every day. The $30 still sits in Gina’s wallet. She’s considering rewarding herself with a bag of mini Milky Ways, which she will hide in that corner kitchen cabinet where no one ever looks.

What I Want to be When I Grow Up

When I was a little girl in Clinton, New Jersey, I used to tell everyone that I wanted to be a writer when I grew up. Through the years, my jobs have always involved writing of some kind. I wrote handbooks, edited newsletters, wrote calendar listings, and even became a reporter for our town newspaper. But when I started writing “That’s Another Story” two years ago, I finally felt that my childhood dream had actually become a reality.

Back in middle school, I used to write my stories out by hand in pink notebooks with purple pens. I mostly wrote dreamy poems about changing the world and peace on earth. As I got older, I began to experiment with more humorous writing, crafting imaginary soap operas about my friends and our teachers. When my parents got a Tandy 1000 computer with a dot matrix printer, I printed out multiple copies of the stories and passed them around at school. The attention I received from my peers was intoxicating. Forget the dreamy poems that no one would ever read; it was then that I realized that having an audience made writing a lot more fun.

And writing “That’s Another Story” is a lot of fun…as soon as I figure out what to write about. Each month, I spend hours and hours trying to decide what to write about and I’ve found many ways to procrastinate. I’ll take my laptop to Panera so I can brainstorm for an hour but I usually just order a chocolate croissant and browse the internet. Last spring, I started writing a story on “The Real Housewives of the Mohawk Valley” but once I discovered that you can watch archived episodes of the “Real Housewives” series on Bravo’s website, I spent hours and hours doing “research” but no actual writing.

A Pretty Good Summer

                You’ve had a pretty good summer so far. You’ve had your share of ups and downs but it’s been nothing you couldn’t handle. You’ve been busy at work but not so busy that you can’t spend most afternoons with the kids at the pool. The weather’s been nothing to complain about and you even took a vacation. You dug into your savings account to take the trip, but it was worth it.

                When you get home, it feels like storm clouds begin to roll over your sunny days. After you’ve unloaded the car, you notice that something is amiss in the backyard. There are shards of wood and bark scattered across the lawn. You visit your neighbor and she tells you your 100-year-old willow tree has been struck by lightning. Your husband puts a call into the tree guys. Your friends tell you it’s going to be expensive but you’ve had a pretty good summer so far. How expensive can it be? These things happen. That’s what the savings account is for.

Hand Me The Remote

The kids will be headed back to school in less than a month and after a long summer of staying up late, parents will finally regain control of the remote during prime time. Because of my vast experience watching television, the staff at “That’s Another Story” nominated me to preview some of the fall’s best new TV shows and report back with my findings.

“Vampire Mom”

Research has shown that viewers of all ages can’t get enough of vampire dramas. This fall, television executives are launching a record number of these shows and the best amongst the group is “Vampire Mom.” The hour-long drama stars Molly Ringwald as a young hip mother who turns into a blood-sucking vampire after she’s tucked in her five-year-old twins. In an Emmy-worthy episode, Ringwald decides she’s tired of hiding her vampire alter-ego and invites her neighbors over for a friendly game night…after dark. Despite applying about a case of Lancome bronzer and exhibiting a heroic amount of self-restraint, our heroine can’t hide her fangs and the party ends in a bloodbath.

Camp Grandma

Dear Mom and Dad,

                It was so nice of you to offer to host the children for another week of Camp Grandma this summer. The kids even came up with a motto! “We love Camp Grandma ‘cause Grandpa’s there, too.” They are really looking forward to spending some special time with both of you.

When you signed the lease at Maple Shady Acres it specifically said that guests under the age of 55 were only permitted to stay three consecutive nights. Do you think it will be okay for the kids to stay longer? We don’t want to get you in trouble with the management. (Especially after that raucous pool party you hosted last summer when your other former hippie friends were arrested for...well, you know.)

Before we drop the children off, we just wanted to remind you of a few simple things you’ll need to watch out for. There has been a lot of progress in the field of child development since the days when you raised me. And I don’t need to remind you that the world has become a much more dangerous place. We have a few suggestions that will help everyone stay safe and healthy. And maybe even have fun!

Wedding Bells

                Tommy Coe and Jane Morris, both of Clinton, were married today on the playground of Windy Hill Elementary School.

                The bride, age 6, is a kindergartener at Windy Hill Elementary where her favorite activities are art, reading, and quiet choice time. The groom, also age 6 and in the same kindergarten class as his new wife, lists physical education, lunch, and show and tell as his favorite subjects.

                The bride and groom became engaged one fall day when Tommy returned home from school and announced to his family that, whether he liked it or not, his friend Jane intended to marry him.

Pick Your Battles

                “You’re telling me they can send a man to the moon,” Sandy shouted in Lisa’s ear when she picked up the phone, “but there’s no cure for head lice?”

                Sandy was at the end of her rope. This was her first experience with head lice and she was practically cross-eyed from scouring the heads of her four children. In just two days, she spent $75 on shampoo and combs at the drugstore, had done fifteen loads of laundry, suffocated nineteen stuffed animals in a garbage bag, and she was still finding countless little white nits stubbornly clinging to her children’s fine hair.

                “Lisa, this is it. I’m getting out the hair clippers,” she threatened, a rising tone of frenzy now present in her voice. Sandy’s boys would look adorable with buzz cuts, but Lisa said she was concerned that the girls might look like they’d been through a war.

“They are in a war, Lisa,” Sandy shrieked, “This is my war…me versus head lice!”

             Lisa was a veteran of the head lice war and she’d felt these same battle scars. After weeks of treatment, her own daughter was recently proclaimed “nit free” by the school nurse. At the time, the intensive treatments had put Lisa into the same frenzy that Sandy was now experiencing. There were hours and hours of combing, shampooing, and picking, not to mention the laundry.

                “Lisa, you’re drafted. How soon can you get over here and help me comb the kids’ hair?” Sandy implored.

                “Ummm…Sandy…. I have a dentist appointment right now that I really don’t want to miss. Gotta go!” Lisa hung up the phone, sweat beginning to form on her brow. Keeping her secret hidden was not easy, especially when General Sandy was on the warpath. How much longer could she keep this ruse going?

The truth was Lisa, an attractive 35-year-old woman with healthy shiny hair, also had head lice.

What's Your Score?

Sharpen your number 2 pencil, because it’s time to take the official “That’s Another Story” P.A.T. (Parental Aptitude Test). For each of the following questions, choose the answer that best describes how you would react to the given scenario. When you’re done, we’ll add up your score and see what your parenting style is.

1. It’s time to plan your son’s sixth birthday party. When you sit down with him to write the guest list, he includes the girl in his class that is rumored to spend a lot of time in the principal’s office. Your son really likes her, but you are worried that she’ll ruin the party with her bad behavior. What do you do?

A. Invite her anyway. How bad can she be? Maybe the teacher just doesn’t know how to handle her in the classroom.

B. Send an invitation to her and another one to the school principal. Since they already have an established relationship, maybe he can keep an eye on her while you greet the guests, serve the milk and carrot sticks, and cut the sugar-free cake.

C. You don’t have the patience to deal with a badly behaved child at the party. Instead, tell your son that you invited the girl but she couldn’t come. A little white lie won’t hurt at his age.



2. You’ve just finished straightening your daughter’s room, and you’ve found an alarming number of candy wrappers shoved under her bed. Do you…

A. Wait…you were cleaning her room? She’s supposed to do that every weekend. Isn’t that why she gets an allowance? Besides, a little candy couldn’t hurt. She’s got great teeth and she could stand to gain a few pounds.

B. Immediately call your mother to complain again about how she spoils the kids. No matter how many times you’ve told her that your eight year old can’t have hard candy, she’s constantly putting Werther’s Originals in your daughter’s pocket, her purse, her backpack, and her desk.

C. Throw away the trash and see if you can find an unopened Kit Kat for yourself.

The Birds and the Bees

Did you know there are three gentlemen’s clubs in New York City? That’s what my 8-year-old daughter Sister Bear told me. She said she found this out by reading signs on taxis when we were visiting Manhattan last month. And in case you need a night out next time you’re in the city, the three clubs are called New York Dolls, Private Eyes, and Flash Dancers.

When she first told me this information during a New York City trivia game we invented, I was completely stunned. Sister Bear is a reader and she told me she reads every word that passes in front of her. Apparently that includes signs on the top of taxis driving forty miles an hour down Broadway.

At the time, part of me wanted to ask her what she thought gentleman’s clubs were. I imagined her innocent response would most likely give us a good laugh. But in the long run, I decided it wasn’t even worth the laugh. I just hoped she’d forget the whole thing.

I am thankful that the subject of S-E-X has not come up often with my 8-year-old or 5-year-old. We have done our best to shelter them from the blatant sexuality that the media throws at us every day. We limit television to kids’ shows or Food Network or the Discovery Channel and we flip channels during the Viagra and Victoria’s Secret commercials. For my part, I have taken to keeping People magazine in my desk drawer lest they sneak a peek at the cover and ask why Tiger Woods is such a bad guy and why Elin is thinking of leaving him. But still, it seems like you can run, but you can’t hide. Eventually they are going to hear something at school or see a commercial on TV and start asking questions.

Riding the Bus

After ALL THAT (see post below), Henry announced yesterday that he doesn't really want to ride the bus after all. "It was fun the first few times, but now it's not fun anymore," he told me.

One in a Million

My son Brother Bear is one in a million. He is friendly and outgoing, unlike his shy parents and sister, and was known in preschool as “everyone’s friend.” I think Brother has only had a handful of temper tantrums in his 5 years. As a newborn, he would wake up and cry with hunger and then immediately fall back asleep when he was satisfied. Now, he would sleep until 9 a.m. each day if I didn’t have to wake him for kindergarten. We know we are lucky parents and we are grateful every day to have this easy going, well-liked, patient child to call our own. He is one of a kind.

It’s a good thing that Brother Bear was blessed with enormous amounts of patience because he has had reason to use it many times in his five years. He has asthma and sometimes needs to do a 20-minute nebulizer treatment as many as five or six times a day. He has had several bouts of pneumonia and has waited in doctor’s waiting rooms and for x-rays more than I ever care to. But Brother Bear’s most trying issue is his food allergies. He is mildly allergic to eggs and tree nuts and has a severe peanut allergy. Every day, every single piece of food he puts in his mouth has to be thoughtfully considered.

After Brother Bear’s allergies were diagnosed, it took us at least a year to learn how to care for him. The pediatrician told us to eliminate Brother’s exposure to anything containing peanuts, including foods manufactured in the same facility or on the same equipment as peanut butter. We were told that if he ate a food containing peanuts, Brother Bear’s body would fight the food like poison: his mouth would swell, he might vomit, and his throat might close, causing him to stop breathing. He was prescribed an EpiPen, a shot of epinephrine that would stop the anaphylaxis, and were told that even if we used it successfully, we would need to rush him to the nearest emergency room. The EpiPen accompanies Brother everywhere he goes and I’ve trained countless friends and relatives how to use it.

Raining Cats and Dogs

“Ma’am, he’s going to have to spend the next few days in intensive care, but we’re pretty sure he’s going to pull through,” the doctor told my friend Sue. Sue collapsed into the doctor’s arms, weeping with gratitude at all they had done to save her darling Hamilton after the accident.

That surgeon was worth every penny of his $3,000 fee. Ham “Hamilton” Hamster had been part of their family for nearly six months and even Sue, who would never have described herself an animal lover, was starting to form an attachment to the little fur ball.

That morning, after an unfortunate near-miss with the vacuum cleaner, Hamilton looked ready to run on that great big hamster wheel in the sky. But, one look at her daughter Lauren’s face and Sue knew they had to try and save him. Making her minivan into a makeshift pet ambulance, they sped to the veterinary hospital in record time, Hamilton carefully resting on a stretcher made from a shoebox and some dishtowels.

When they arrived, Hamilton was rushed into the back and Sue and Lauren were left alone in the waiting room with only a copy of Cat Fancy to entertain them. When the doctor came out and said the surgery would cost $3,000, Sue didn’t hesitate. And it was worth it. Lauren would have been devastated to lose Hamilton. She loved him with all of her seven-year-old heart. There was pure joy in her eyes when, a week later, Lauren had to bring a cage to pick up Hamilton; he was too frisky and curious to stay put in the shoebox during the slow drive home.