Walking through the neighborhood tonight, trick or treating with Sport, I've been thinking how parenting is a bit like trick or treating. When you trick or treat, you approach a house with no idea about who is at the door or what you'll receive. How many times have you rung the bell and waited patiently, only to find that no one answers? Or, the person comes to the door and hands you a tiny, hard peppermint candy, the kind that old ladies carry in their purses.
Just like that uncertainty at the door, no matter how you got your children, whether by birth or adoption, you really have no idea what you're getting until you've got it. You are hopeful, of course, like when you walk up to a house that has a porch light on and is decorated with pumpkins. Ultimately, there are no guarantees that a full-size chocolate candy bar will be tossed into your waiting bucket. We do what we can to better the odds. We trick or treat in affluent neighborhoods, or those with houses close together, or with lots of children. And in parenting, we love our children and provide them with what we believe increases the odds that they will grow into successful adults.
Just like our Halloween experiences change from year to year, as people become more or less involved or invested in handing out candy to costumed children, our children change and grow, some years find them pleasant and cooperative and other years find the same children disagreeable and defiant.
Walking around, Sport and I pass fairy princesses, villains, and superheroes. From door to door, I hear the familiar refrain, "trick or treat" and I marvel at the bravery of parents, who traverse the adventure of parenthood, filled with optimism, hope and good intentions.
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