As an adult I’ve never loved Hallowe’en much. All the fuss — finding a costume, decorating, laying in a store of candy — seemed like so much clutter that I could do without. I remember my junior year at Western when some bright ‘uns got the idea to spread dead oak leaves the entire length of our dorm’s third floor hallway. I guess they thought it would make trick or treating more realistic for the handful of kids who trooped over from married housing. All I could think was, who’s going to clean this up? Not that I was a cleannut, by any means. It’s just that the effort to do and undo seemed all so fruitless. So unnecessary.
When I had my own kids, I tried, with varying degrees of success to make Hallowe’en special. But infact, in my life as a mom, I’ve made just one hallowed costume — a ghost — when Drew was around 2 years old.
This was my first child’s first real Hallowe’en, and I was determined to be the creative stay-home-mom I thought I should be (I was still at home in those days.) I picked out a pattern (a pattern! to sew!), bought shiny white material and a bunch of stuffing/batting, and stitched for three days. The costume consisted of a billowy robe and a marshmellow-y sort of helmet type headpiece. Another billowy piece with large holes for the eyes and nose was supposed to drape over the headpiece and tie loosely at the neck. The effect was, well, ghostly. Except that Drew refused to wear the drape-over-the-head part. So he looked like a kid in a sheet with his face sticking out of a marshmallow. He didn’t care, you know? He still got his candy.
When the girls came along I mostly tried to stick to easy stuff — Glue a pair of felt ears to a headband, and pin a rolled felt “tail” to a pair of black sweat pants. Add a black sweatshirt and eyeliner whiskers and you get a black cat every time. Twin blonde-headed black cats cause quite a stir, actually, wherever they go!
One year, the girls wanted something really special to wear to their school parties and for trick or treat. On hearing this, their rocket cheerleading coach offered up from her daughter’s selection of fairly intricate handmade costumes. I mean, the woman had a closet full of costume creations — all made in previous years for one kid. How I hated her! How I envied her ability with a needle and thread! How I swallowed my pride so my own kids could look great on Hallowe’en! Susan was a genie and Meagan was a really great-looking witch. They had fun. So who cares about a mother’s angst?
These days the kids love creating their own costumes. This let me off the hook, except for the inevitable last minute (expensive!) trips to the hallowe’en shop. It never fails. For kids who begin talking in July about what they’re going to be for Hallowe’en, they sure have a tough time coming to a decision. A newsboy becomes Mimi, who turns into a ghoul, and eventually becomes a dead prom queen. What’s amazing to me is that in 10th grade they still are talking about trolling the neighborhood for candy. As long as they give me a couple of Butterfingers, I guess I don’t mind.
