Five ways to hate Halloween less.

I haven’t always hated Halloween. Like most kids, I probably liked it for the first decade or so. Dressing up. Staying out late. Getting candy. Eating candy. What’s not to like, really?

Then in 1975, I made a supreme error in judgment. When I could have been anything — a Disney princess, a disco dancer, or even a superhero (after all, Wonder Woman debuted that year) – whom did I choose?

Martha Washington.

The ‘why’ remains a mystery. I’m guessing it wasn’t because of her pro-slavery stance, nor her initial opposition to her husband’s presidency. More likely it was because we had a Martha Washington-esque outfit on hand, and with four kids to outfit – two of them boys — Martha somehow defaulted to me.

Oddly, I wasn’t embarrassed to be the first First Lady. Even after door upon door of “oh, you must be … um, who are you?” and the snide remarks of other kids, I somehow managed to maintain enthusiasm for my unique costume.

Until I tripped on my dress, splitting my elbow open to the bone.

And that is the precise moment at which I started hating Halloween. (I still have the scar to prove it.)

For a long time I was able to mask my hatred simply by choosing to ignore the holiday altogether. But after my son was born, I had no choice but to conform. I bought costumes. I sewed costumes. I bought candy. My neighbor created a haunted house so successful the local reservation sent busloads of kids to our neighborhood to enjoy it. When the candy ran out after an hour, I bought more.

My son, the firefighter (circa 1997)

Now that my son is a high school senior and I’m facing my last Halloween with him at home, I’m surprisingly nostalgic. No regrets about the time I spent on costumes – a cowboy, Robin Hood, a firefighter, Pokemon, Harry Potter, a Death Eater cloak, a vampire using the recycled Death Eater cloak.

And truth be told, remembering the joy every costume — and every Halloween — has brought my son over the years really helps soften the edges of even a curmudgeon like me.

So Martha, although it’s taken me 35 years, I forgive you. But this year I think I’ll be Wonder Woman instead. And I’ll even try not to hate it.

Five Ways to Hate Halloween Less

1. Set a candy budget.
(Mine is now $30, or 10 to 15 bags of candy.) Buy it on sale and DO NOT EAT IT. Of course Halloween candy goes on sale in August because they want you to eat it. Don’t give in. (My sister-in-law says this is much easier to do if you steer clear of your favorite candy, but I’ve been known to lower my candy standards in desperate times.)

2. Stick to the candy budget.
In my neighborhood, it’s nearly impossible to plan exactly how much candy to have on hand. If I run out of candy before the last doorbell ring, I turn out my light, lock up my house, and go relieve a neighbor for a while.

3. Keep the decorations simple.
It’s fine to indulge little ones with a few nods to Halloween, but going overboard can lead to stress. Stress in putting it up. Stress in taking it down. Stress in storing it.

Since 1998, my exterior Halloween décor has consisted of two electrified jack-o-lanterns that go up Oct. 31 at 5 p.m. and come down the next morning. While that might be considered overly minimalist by some, it’s a huge stress reducer for me.

One of my favorite, easy ways to decorate for Halloween indoors is to use candy corn as vase filler. Kids love it, it’s cheap, and if you dry it out first, you can even reuse it from year to year. (Disgusting, but true. At least if you live in Arizona.)

4. If you can’t beat ‘em…
When I feel the Halloween dread start to creep in, it helps to remember that it’s really about making kids happy. (Though again, I think there are much better ways of doing this.) My friends Kim and Tammy deserve a medal for their efforts in helping me come around, too. They decorate. They wear stylish witch hats. But most important, they celebrate by welcoming neighbors to stop by, chat and get to know one another.

5. Do not dress up as Martha Washington.