I was scared shitless when I found out I was pregnant with my third child. My mind raced with thoughts of impending morning sickness, sleepless nights and college saving funds. I was an absolute mess for weeks. Months, actually. One of the first thoughts that brought a smile to my face was the prospect of outfitting three children for Halloween. Visions of Three Blind Mice, the Three Stooges and the Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe danced in my mind. Head over toilet, my future threesome’s costumes made it all seem worth it.
My excitement over costumes is deep rooted in my childhood. My parents, never ones to take the easy way out, created beautiful costumes from scratch. While my friends dressed as bums or gypsies, my parents labored over homemade butterfly, robot, and candy corn outfits. No costume was ever store bought, one piece or polyester, and I vowed that I would do the same with my offspring. I began plotting for this Halloween last year, when I was still pregnant with Evan. The cowboy & cowgirl costumes from 2007 would pale in comparison to Halloween 2008. It would be one for the books.
Unfortunately, my children had other plans. Lily insisted on dressing up as… drum roll, please… a princess. Not only was the idea unoriginal to say the least, but it was also a repeat from two short years ago. I pleaded with her; how about a mermaid? The boys could be a fish and a fisherman? No, she whined, a princess! Dorthy? I asked, showing her a cast picture from the Wizard of Oz? The boys could be the Tin Man and the Scarecrow? No, a princess, she tearfully pleaded. Fine, I sighed. A princess. Whoop-di-do.
My suddenly opinionated two year old vetoed my suggestions for a knight, a king or a pea. He insisted on a ready made dragon costume he spotted from Old Navy. So much for a theme, little shit. My plans foiled, I threw in the towel and bought a cheap spider outfit from Marshall’s for Evan. Why get creative now?
So, in three weeks, I’ll be presenting you with the princess, the dragon and the spider. Fabulous trio, huh? Not exactly what I had in mind, but they’ll have fun. And I supposethat’s what counts, even if it’s at the expense of my would-be creativity. I get to have the last laugh, though. They can’t reach the candy jar, and I’m not above raiding their loot. I’ve got to get my kicks somehow.