I cannot believe how relieved I am that Halloween is over. Late last night I was so happy I could have danced and sang with joy if I had not been so exhausted.
There is always drama with Halloween costumes, with at least one child, and this year it happened with all three. Last Thursday night, we finally found three costumes that they were all happy with. I still had to dig madly through my tub of material scraps to add details to the ninja costumes and speed-curl my daughter's hair and apply make-up the morning of their school parties.
My kids are definitely affected by eating sugar. The proof is undeniable. Luckily, they each agreed readily to trade in their huge candy-filled bags to "the Halloween witch" for a toy, so they only ate whatever candy that they consumed while trick-or-treating at a trunk-or-treat on Saturday, and while passing out candy last night at their cousins' house.
The kindergarten Halloween party was Friday. I spent the majority of the week cutting, gluing, researching, and stressing about my decorations. (Thanks for all of the recommendations via the blog and e-mail!) I stayed up super late on Thursday night, polishing off a few more spiders and ribbons and decorated dishes and holders, fancying up more pumpkins with costume details, and worrying. For a brief moment though, with my glue gun in hand, I actually enjoyed feeling creatively powerful. I think it was the glue gun.
Friday morning, I stuffed my two young boys into the car along with the fancy, dressed-up pumpkins, spiders, balloons, ribbons, candy, stringers, etc. and zoomed to the school. There was no parking, anywhere. Apparently every other parent was also there for a Halloween party. I circled and circled and finally found a place in the farthest corner of the lot. Then came the discussions with my 3-year old over which shoes to wear, how much of his costume to wear, and whether I could use his pumpkin to decorate his sister's classroom party. And then came the problem of convincing my 1-year old (and 3-year old) to follow me while I carried a huge, heavy laundry basket to the door, along with large sacks in both hands through the parking lot and into the school. After that huge trek, full of encouragement and patience, we made it to the office. While I was signing in, they found a small toy in the office. We couldn't leave. I couldn't carry my 1-year old away from it with the huge load I was already carrying, and there was no way he was leaving the toy. More discussions. I finally had to carry one load a small distance, leave it on the floor, and then return for the other load. Back and forth. Back and forth. Until we finally reached the kindergarten classroom. The other parent that had offered to help me decorate at the last minute had already arrived. I asked him to bring balloons. He had bought a festive Halloween bunch of helium-filled balloons. They were gorgeous, already set out at the front of the entryway to the classroom. Parents were setting up stations for cookie decorating and craft activities. The room looked wonderful and was full of color. I left my huge load of paraphernalia on the floor by the door. The job was already done. Five or six parents stood in the back of the room, watching six or seven parents rush around organizing and preparing for the kids. My feelings were too complex to describe. I watched for a few minutes, gave my daughter a kiss when they came in for the party, took a deep breath, picked up my load and left. The long trek back through the school hallways, out the doors, through the parking lot, and the drive back home seemed much easier. My 1-year old actually followed me. I cheered myself up a bit as I decorated my own house. Then, I forgot about it.
Until later, when my daughter said, "Mom, why didn't you decorate my classroom with all that stuff you made all week?"
It's okay though. I learned a valuable lesson: next time, offer to bring balloons.