Keegan lasted two minutes in his cape. “No fly no more mama.”
Kai says, “what happened to Perry?”
Mommy wants to go back to bed.
Russ and I have been brainstorming. My idea – throw all Halloween gear in a pile – let kids build their own costumes. But then, I can’t help lamenting the sweet platypus tail I made last night.
These are the hardest times for me. I have three hours till this party starts, and the kids are more content right now playing together than they have been in ages. There are piles of puzzles and games out, and everyone is happy. Screw the costumes, lets just go to Wal-Mart on the way there.
And I love making costumes for my kids. Every single one of mine was made or put together with the help of my parents. Halloween was one of their very favorites too. They were Groucho Marx and Harpo, pickles and ice cream, Papa Smurf and Smurfette, and a two-headed monster. Pops made Corey a headless horseman costume once – and Mom was always sewing me some kind of skirt for the next pretty thing I wanted to be. And it’s not like they weren’t busy people too- working parents- lives of their own – and so, I want to honor them – by doing this for my kids. It just feels right. It’s what I know
So when my friends ask me, “isn’t it easer to just . . . ”
Well, yes, it is, and it’s okay to do that too, just . . . Because that’s what work for you.
But for me, it’s the piles of fabric, the endless tries, the ripped seams, the maddening sewing machine. It’s the sweatshirts that don’t take the color I wanted, the yelling for Russ to please come help quick, can you make this work. And it’s the snapshot after. The cutie kids smiling from ear to ear – with their ragtag costumes, and their ubiquitous pumpkin buckets full of candy.
Insanity yes. Everywhere you look. But it’s mine – and while I might whine about it from time to time – I revel in it always.