Another Halloween has come and gone and with it all of my hopes and aspirations of being nominated for Mother of the Year.
And here’s why:
For at least eight months Girl 1 has been planning on dressing up as a horse for Halloween. (She’s ten and a girl, so, of course, she loves horses). She envisioned a costume for her and her best friend made out of chicken wire, fabric and a lot of help from me and my mad sewing skills. Which she’s sure I have because I have a sewing machine. In a closet. In the garage. That she’s never seen me use.
So, yeah, that didn’t happen. Instead I’ve spent the past eight months saying, “Halloween is still months away; let’s at least get to October before we start talking costumes.” And by “saying” I may mean “yelling in frustration.”
And then last week I started “saying”, “Fine. I will look online for a horse costume, but I am not buying anything.”
But I did buy something. Ninja accessories. Because when we couldn’t find a horse costume big enough to fit someone over eighteen months old, that’s what she came up with. And I’m sure I could have borrowed daggers, swords , and masks from one of my many friends who have boys, but after eight months of horse costume talk, she broke me. So I spent the $6.
And then she gave the sword to her BFF so she could also be a ninja. She asked me to find something black for BFF to wrap around her face, so I made some suggestions, like, “Seriously? She can’t find anything at her own house?” But I drew the line at actually getting up and looking for a costume for someone else’s kid. Much as I like that kid and her parents.
Then I sent all my kids over to their house on Saturday. And again today. Because I needed a nap and I figured she kinda owed me for making her kid’s costume.
But at least Girl 1 got a choice. Her two younger sisters I just tried to guilt into wearing the poodle skirts I made for them in June so they could go to a sock hop. On My Birthday. And I bought saddle shoes for them to wear–which aren’t going to fit either one of them next year because even though they are 2 1/2 years apart, they are the same size.
It worked with Girl 3, but Girl 2 opted to wear something from the dress-up box and then borrow some tights from me. Despite the fact she is two feet shorter than me. But hey, neglect has made her resourceful. And Girl 3 looked awfully cute as a 50’s girl. She even had cat eye glasses to wear. I mean, sure, they’re her older sister’s. And they’re prescription glasses. And she complained they hurt her eyes. But man, did she look like an authentic 50’s girl!
Also, I may have forgotten today was Halloween because we had a church trunk-or-treat activity on Friday where they sure got a lot of candy. So, in my mind, Halloween was over. Until someone mentioned something about trick-or-treating on Monday. But that was on Saturday night. And when I realized we would have to do the whole dress-up thing again, a wave of horror washed over me. Because by this time the kids had eaten much of their candy for breakfast. And lunch. And a little more for dinner. Which meant there was none left over for me to re-gift to actual Halloween night trick-or-treaters.
And no way was I going back to Target for more.
So I raided the snack drawer. Which was chock full of some pretzel cheese sandwich cracker things that my kids refused to eat. So those went in the give away bowl. Plus a whole lot of lame plastic bat rings and pumpkin erasers my husband was convinced no one would take. He advised me thus, “Don’t let them see what’s in the bowl. Just reach in, grab something, then put your hand all the way in their bag before you drop it so they can’t see what it is.” (Have I mentioned he’s a lawyer?).
Sound advice, I know. But instead I sent hubby with the kids to knock doors and beg for candy while I set the bowl on the porch, turned out all the lights, and watched TV.
Best. Halloween. Ever.
* One more reason–and there are a lot– I won’t be nominated for Mother of the Year: I don’t always make it home before my kids do because I know Girl 3 can get into our locked house through the doggie door and then let the other two in. At least until she grows another inch or two.