Trust me. I do this all the time.: Halloween Happenings

Although neither of my kids' schools officially recognized Halloween, which I think it lame, both concocted a way to allow the kids to wear a costume to school. Our district only allows 2 class parties per year, but Sam's school wrapped up Red Ribbon Week with Super Hero Day on Friday, so he was allowed to wear his Ironman costume to school. Annabelle, who's school is private but hosted at a church that doesn't celebrate the holiday, participated in the Noah's Ark Parade. All animals, all the time. Fortunately last year's cat costume still fit well enough for the 20 minutes she needed to wear it.

Mommy got a special Halloween treat, too. Frankenstein Frapachino, anyone?

On the big day a friend, who's son is in Sam's class, invited us to an early dinner at Jimmy Changa's (play place, outdoor seating and Tex-Mex!) right after school. PERFECT. Something fun to do to kill some time before the big event, and a cheap way to feed my kids. I love all the kids-eat-free promotions they run in my neck of the woods! After dinner we scooted home to costume up, all full of excitement and cooperation. What bliss! I put mascara, lipstick and blush on my daughter, managed to get her hair into a bun and then pulled my own very first ballet recital costume onto her. Be still my heart.

(side note: she will be old enough for ballet in the fall, and I already knew I'd be signing her up. And then they started running commercials for the Nutcracker this week, and she literally stopped running around in circles to stare at the TV and ask, "Mommy what they doing?!" And she continues to watch every single time she sees one, with equal fascination. Its innate...or inherited.)

We gathered at a house around the corner for a little trick-or-treat pre-party. Adults snacking, kids running around, general neighborhood merriment. And I was only asked 137 times when it was time to start trick-or-treating.

I have expressed this notion before but I'll say it again (and probably several more times over the next few months: We are in the "magic years" here in this house. Our kids are 2.5 and 5.5. That is old enough to understand, anticipate, believe and live in the moment, but not so old that any of those things might be tainted by the big kid notions of too-cool, its not real or it doesn't really matter. There are moments when being in the magic years feels like a lot of pressure - like I have to make it magical for them - but a dear friend pointed out to me that childhood is magical all on its own, Pinterest not required. And Halloween night was proof of that.

I hope that I can always picture in my head the sweetness that was Annabelle while she was trick-or-treating this year. I don't think she ever realized that she was often at least 10 yards behind the "big kids," regardless of how many times I call to her to "follow the Elsa's!" She was happy to take several shorter rides on the hay wagon, while the big kids only bothered when we were changing streets, but as soon as we lifted her over the rail and her little feet hit the ground she was running. And she was repeating the phrases she was hearing around her. "I see a wight at dis one, guys! Ok, wets go da next house! Let's go, guys!" So much enthusiasm, so much pure joy.

We did score a pretty sweet deal by joining some friends on their Ranger/Hay Ride. It took Annabelle about 2 seconds to figure out how to climb onto it herself, and was pleased as punch when the Elsa's (there were 2 in our group) were distracted long enough that she could score the primo hay bale at the back of the wagon. Sam preferred to ride up front in the Ranger, but really as long as he was close to his buddy, he was cool.

Well, mostly cool. As is the case with any highly-anticipated event in Hunniford House (and this was HIGHLY anticipated - he started counting down days on Monday mornings, and after having to wake him each day for school, he bounded out of bed on Friday announcing "TONIGHT IS TRICK-OR-TREAT!"), there were a few meltdowns. Once because he'd forgotten his shell (Daddy was already returning from the house with said shell, we realized before he did), once because his knee pad ripped (this is what happens when you and your buddy play spies in the bushes in full costume), once because he didn't get his desired seat, and probably at least one more. I will give him credit for recovering quickly from each meltdown - as he gets older he is actually getting a bit easier to reason with and I am seeing some growth in understanding that fits don't solve problems. Hard to break life-long habits, though.

But he had a great time overall. He was poised to be the leader of the pack, although that position shifted throughout the group (if that kid can harness his powers for good instead of evil, he might just run the world - although I'm not sure he's interested in Democracy), always with the Ballerina and Olaf bringing up the rear. Olaf is Annabelle's age, and he loves her. We're talking all kinds of unwanted physical advances ranging from poking to hugs. She greats each with a stern "Don't Touch Me!" It sound rude coming from a 2-year-old, but we'll be proud of the same phrase when she's 16. Well it turns out the costume one him some points because the next day she told me "Only Walker is a Honey!" Oh, and Walkers mom taught him to great people with "I Like Warm Hugs!" Adorable.

Our door-to-door adventures lasted about an hour and a half, which I think is a pretty long time for this crew! We quit when Sam's candy bucket was literally overflowing, and Annabelle had begun handing hers to Daddy because it was too heavy. Please note that she still went to doors to collect candy, she just couldn't be bothered to carry it. When we made it back to the house the kids had a few pieces of candy and went to bed - very easily. We had left our candy bowl out with the neighbors but heard the crowds on our cul-de-sac were small. We received a few more stragglers before turning out the light and eating far more candy ourselves than we ever would have allowed the kids to consume.

The next day was the candy sorting. Sam rocked it, and rearranged it a couple of times throughout the day. He traded a few unwanted items with me and has been negotiating extra pieces of candy for random "accomplishments" all week. Annabelle has become incredibly possessive of her bucket, ready to fight off any and all who threaten to take a piece from her. My kids will won't touch ice cream and can walk away from cake all day. But candy...that's their love language.