I used to be Ms. Halloween.
Annoying my friends by asking what they were going to be for Halloween, I’d start in April. Decorating for Halloween October 1, our Halloween parties were quadruple capacity. Imaginary Halloween costumes already selected for my future children, were custom-made and started in May.
It was MY holiday.
And then I had kids.
Post-partum exhaustion with the first, an emotional pregnancy and post-partum anxiety with the second had me weeping in the middle of a dark living room while the babies screamed and the dog paced. Trauma might be too strong a word to describe the past three Halloweens, but intense unhappiness gets me a little closer.
I started resenting Halloween.
All that WORK, just to what? Pretend you’re someone else? To give away this slave made chocolate to kids from outside our neighborhood anyway? Stupid, stupid holiday.
And then I started resenting mySELF.
That grumpy gus attitude wasn’t helping anyone have a better time, and that’s no good either.
My girls are thrilled to dress up, we have a huge front porch just made for decorating and just because I’m not 100% thrilled with the state of my midsection doesn’t mean I can’t get in the celebratory spirit.
My change of heart was also inspired by radical immersion. For work and fun, I curated several collections of ingenious Halloween treats. You try keeping a frown after reviewing no less than 194 recipes for Yummy Mummies.
Due to an ill-fitting internet costume purchase, I broke out the sewing machine to tailor my daughter’s costume to fit. While it was out, I whipped up a crafty porch banner with some scrap fabric (pictures and how-to tomorrow). I’ll get back into it. I can tell. Slow and steady, yo.
For more inspiration, some Halloweens from my past