We rolled out of our warm cribs on Halloween morning, made a Starbucks pitstop and popped into the front door of our Kindermusik teacher's house ready to maybe sing a pumpkin song or two. I was in no way prepared to be knocked over by the biggest momhood blunder I've committed to date. All six toddlers were spectacularly ravaging and whirling the room in costume or some sort of holiday attire. Flooded by adorable, I looked down at Carter. He was as baffled as I was.
I felt. so. bad.
While Carter's at this young age, I put so much pressure on myself on holidays because these early years demand historic pictures be taken. There's decorations to be hung to coincide with the phrase In my house, we used to always have a so-and-so hanging from the such-and-such. Truly, he's growing out of his cuteness by the day. Next year I probably won't have the chance to get him into a costume chosen by me. No sitting to bask in the reflection of his baby-faced yumminess wrapped in fuzzy fabrics with glued eyes and tails. Just seeing my blog and my obsessively curled hair, you can tell I sail my ship a tad from the perfectionist angle. Not everything has to be perfect. But holidays? They're on that ship.
And boom. Just like that, I'd dropped the ball. Missed an opportunity I should have been on top of.
We went onward with class, sang and danced with children dressed as pumpkins. a mouse. a car. The other moms were armed with cameras, chasing for pictures. Carter was more reserved than usual; I figured because processing the costume ordeal in conjunction with busting out dance moves requires more concentration than a two year old can handle. By the time we left class, I was borderline angry at the whole situation, worried Carter might think he's different, strange, or something's wrong with him because he was the only one who didn't get to wear something fun. Darn those moms. Those kids. Those cute costumes. How dare they all.
When we got home that day, I pulled out an owl costume (from this
website) and carefully offered it to Carter. His vocab doesn't cover the
Bring it on! his eyes were answering.
For the afternoon, Carter was an owl in our driveway. His fear of costumes? Overcome.
Carter settled in for his afternoon nap while I got dressed in my Minnie Mouse costume, carved my own pumpkin, strung orange lights on the porch and willed the pouring rain to stop. Matt got home from work, put on his Pinnochio/Peter Pan getup, and we slung an umbrella over our heads and walked the neighborhood.
It took some convincing, but once Carter realized saying Reat! (Trick or Treat) to complete strangers got him candy, he was all in for the door-to-door mission. He was one of those kids who doesn't stop taking pieces from the bowl until it's out of reach. I had him putting pieces back into bowls and felt lucky he was just as eager to say Thix (thanks) as he was to plead Reat.
Did anyone else notice how small the fun-sized candy bars have gotten? Or is it that we're just getting bigger? Candy shrinkage or not, this year I decided that Halloween's my new favorite holiday. And I promise you, next year Cart will be clad in costume from sun up to sun down.
For good measure, we might even be an elf at Christmastime.
