I really love Halloween.
Not only is it the start of “The Holidays” but it’s also my youngest sister’s birthday, (insert happy birthday shout-out here)! As far as I know, I have never NOT dressed up for Halloween and gone Trick or Treating, or at least gone to a church-sponsored Halloween party, or both. I did it as a child, a teenager, a college student, a newlywed (We were pregnant with J-Dub and an old lady scolded us for being worse than the teenagers), a mom, and I’ll do it as a grandma, gosh dang it! The only time I remember not actually going trick or treating was the night before the SAT’s and my mom wouldn’t let me, which was probably a good plan, but I still dressed up and worked the church Halloween party so it still counts!
This is Halloween when I was 5. I was a Cabbage Patch Kid. I don’t know what possessed me to be a Cabbage Patch Kid. Perhaps that’s just what was available to me at the time. I do, however, remember that my mother, my saving grace, drew eyelashes and freckles on my face and put my hair in pigtails so I could actually look cute instead of wearing the hideously terrifying (think Quasimoto) mask that came with the plastic pink and blue “dress.”
Ain’t I adoooooorable?
The year before that my Grandma had made me (she MADE me!) be Mickey Mouse. That’s right, the BOY. Why, oh why couldn’t it have been Minnie? 4-year-old girls want to be a lot of things, but a boy is usually not one of them. And for goodness sake, the costume consisted of a plastic pantsuit. Pants! I don’t ever remember ever wearing pants ever at all ever in my whole life ever until I was in 2nd grade. And even then I thought they were boyish and uncomfortable. Even IF they came with a shirt with two pandas holding a heart-shaped balloon between them.
When I was in 1st grade I was a…wait. Can’t you tell? Isn’t it obvious? No? Well if you looked carefully you would observe that I had two buns on top of my head (aka: ears) and a cape (aka: wings). Do I have to spell everything out for you? Geez! I was a bat! Duh… Oh well, at least I get points for imagination, right?
It’s kinda cute, my sweet and photogenic little sister and I with pumpkins my other Grandma brought from Oregon. Grandma’s taking the picture. And I sure loved those Saddle Shoes. But I hate this picture. It makes me sick to my stomach to even look at. It reminds me of earlier that day at school. I was headed over to the jungle gym and some kids were at the top who were a year younger than me. They started calling out to each other, loud enough that not only could I hear them, but half the playground could hear them, “Nerd Alert! Nerd Alert!” Yeah, that was elementary school for me. Thank goodness for junior high and high school and finally making friends!
Now this picture I love. When I was 11 I went to my first and only Daddy/Daughter Dance. We played games, ate food, took pictures and danced. It was heaven and one of a few cherished memories I have of my dad with me one-on-one.
When you’re a poor college student, you and your roommates and (almost) boyfriend dress up in pajamas and curlers/pigtails and go get free candy in the hills where they’re rumored to give out full candy bars. I am yet to confirm that rumor as true. Still trying, though.
When we were first married and i was pregnant with our first kid we dressed up and went trick-or-treating by ourselves. Only one lady called us out on it, nobody else cared. And I figure, hey, if you go through the effort to dress up and go door to door, you deserve the candy!
I have all kinds of love for this next picture. I’m not sure what my favorite part of this picture is. It could be the fact that there’s another kid photobombing our family picture. Or the fact that my trendy straight-ironed hair is a little too…flippy. Or it might be the fact that J-Dog is grabbing the jack o’ lantern by the mouth. OR it might be that Hubby and I were dressed up as…you guessed it…The Hills! Wait, you didn’t guess? Neither did anyone at the party. I still think it was dang creative of me to puffy paint a picture of the nearby hills on a green sheet and cut two holes in it so Josh and I could wear it at the same time. Logistically this was not easily accomplished. But extra points for creativity on a budget!
As you can see, I’ve ALWAYS celebrated Halloween. And every year we carve pumpkins and most years we make and frost spooky-shaped sugar cookies and eat them and give them out to people and eat them some more. But this year I got too busy for the pumpkin carving and forgot about it until it was too late. How could I? That’s the unpardonable sin of all holiday-dom! Although the kids barely noticed and weren’t all that shook up about it. Maybe I CAN be forgiven. Someday.
As for the cookies, what started out like this:and continued as this:
ended up like this:
Hey! The black cats are black! Mothering win!
Some of the cookies turned out OK but I forgot to buy butter, was busy, forgot about them, didn’t feel like doing anything with them, and so we never got around to frosting them. Mothering fail. So it finally happened: my worst (OK not WORST) nightmare has come true (I actually have recurring nightmares about this). I am unprepared for a holiday. I know, I know, no holiday is perfect. And we’ll still have fun. I just hope this lapse in holiday tradition doesn’t extend to Thanksgiving and Christmas (cue screechy horror music)!