Some of my best memories growing up in the Caldwells are of Halloween. Trick-or-treating for hours, traipsing through the Cedars in the cold with our giant pillowcases filled with loot, and then coming home to drink hot chocolate and trade candy. But aside from the Halloween parade at school, trick-or-treating was the extent of our Halloween activities.

Times have definitely changed. Halloween has become not a day, but a season.  As someone who stays at home with her kids and is responsible for keeping them occupied every single waking moment, except for the six glorious hours they attend pre-school, I couldn't be happier about it. 

Friday morning was our pre-school Halloween party and parade. (Parade meaning a large group of dazed looking children in costumes walking three times around a parking lot to cheers and applause from adoring parents.) My kids seemed a little confused by it all, but I loved every second of it. 

Friday afternoon we trick-or-treated at the shops on the Avenue, along with what appeared to be all of West Essex. This definitely did not exist in my childhood and I would have loved it. My daughters enjoyed the experience although I think the sheer number of people was a little overwhelming.

One of my girls in particular is afraid of anyone in a large animal costume, so we ran into a few obstacles along the way, namely the completely non-threatening pink pig outside the new Hog Wild barbecue restaurant and the very friendly lion at the Caldwell Farmers' Market. They tried their best to win her over, but no amount of high fives or free candy could change her opinion.

The girls loved the pumpkin decorating at the market, and of course each chose the heaviest pumpkin they could find for me to carry on the long walk back to the car. The Caldwell Farmers' Market has been a great place for us to go on Friday afternoons, and we will miss it over the winter. 

We did have a small shoplifting incident in one store, but I guess to a three-year- old ALL candy looks free for the taking on Halloween. Despite my daughter's protests that they were hers and she "Loved candy corn!", I returned the two giant bags she had walked out with and no one was any the wiser. 

Not even the thrill of attempted thievery can compare with the main event, the actual door-to-door neighborhood trick-or-treating on Sunday. My girls each had their own approach to it–one would ring the bell, wait five seconds, scream "No one's home!", then race on to the next house.  There was no time to waste, let's get that candy! The other would stick her head nosily inside the door the minute it did open and ask every single neighbor "Can I come in?" She got invited into more than one living room.

It was the perfect Halloween. From the excitement of ringing the neighbors' doorbells repeatedly (without mom screaming at you to stop), to the leaves rustling under your feet as you trudged on to the next house, to the cold clear night air, it was exactly like it was when I was little. 

My girls loved it and truly, so did I. All that was missing was a kid in a Starsky and Hutch costume, purchased at Grand Variety of course, and it was my childhood all over again.