Halloween Fun With A Toddler
Last year's Halloween was pretty minimal, so this year we thought we'd do a bit more. SweetBabyGirl's old enough that we're letting her have candy (ie. we've caved on the candy issue) so trick-or-treating was looking pretty good.
Plus, we've moved into a new house and, since it's the newest and biggest one on the block (and bear in mind, "biggest" means more than 1200 square feet) it seemed like a good idea to make with the candy.
Anyway. It was all fun: I handed out the tribute to all the tiny creatures who came to the door (and, aside from a few whose voices were changing, they were all adorable) and Daddy took SBG around to dazzle the neighbors with The Cute. I'm told that most people were so weakened by the effects of The Cute that they could barely hand over the goods, which is hardly surprising. SBG on her worst day is Pretty Darn Cute, I can admit (completely objectively, too).
Here's my favorite part: this Halloween, we've been teaching SBG about the differences between fun-scary and real-scary. Not that she's afraid of much: for the most part, she'd call something scary when it really meant that it was tedious, perhaps because she's such a rare and delightful creature that mundane things somehow soil her essential self:
SBG: I want my blue pillow.
POM: It's in the other room, you can go get it.
SBG: No!
POM: You can go get-
SBG: No! It scary!
So, on Halloween we went to a friend's house, where she'd set up a Haunted House for the neighborhood kids. (Seriously, this friend is nuts for Halloween--she has more Halloween gear than most people have for Christmas. She rules.)
Anyway, I taught SBG to say "boo!" and briefed our friends at the Haunted House, so whenever anything popped out and was scary, SBG said "BOOO!" at them and they went, "Eeek!" It was awesome. Watching a scary vampire queen go Eeeek was a hoot. One guy didn't get the memo and he was wearing a skeleton costume, which SBG had seen before. All he did was stand there and SBG was too intimidated to say boo. But it was ok, she just clung to me a little tighter than before. And she's still talking about the guy in the mask. And, every now and then, she still will go "boo!" at us, which is ok, too.
A tiny problem is that Boo is SBG's nickname for my mother. Oh well.
A side note: the husband of a friend, whose son was about SBG's age a few years ago, admonished her with "There's a special place in Hell for mothers who steal their kids' Halloween candy." And now I qualify! Yay! Go, me!
Know where I don't wanna be? In the part of hell where husbands go if they talk to their wives like that.
Plus, we've moved into a new house and, since it's the newest and biggest one on the block (and bear in mind, "biggest" means more than 1200 square feet) it seemed like a good idea to make with the candy.
Anyway. It was all fun: I handed out the tribute to all the tiny creatures who came to the door (and, aside from a few whose voices were changing, they were all adorable) and Daddy took SBG around to dazzle the neighbors with The Cute. I'm told that most people were so weakened by the effects of The Cute that they could barely hand over the goods, which is hardly surprising. SBG on her worst day is Pretty Darn Cute, I can admit (completely objectively, too).
Here's my favorite part: this Halloween, we've been teaching SBG about the differences between fun-scary and real-scary. Not that she's afraid of much: for the most part, she'd call something scary when it really meant that it was tedious, perhaps because she's such a rare and delightful creature that mundane things somehow soil her essential self:
SBG: I want my blue pillow.
POM: It's in the other room, you can go get it.
SBG: No!
POM: You can go get-
SBG: No! It scary!
So, on Halloween we went to a friend's house, where she'd set up a Haunted House for the neighborhood kids. (Seriously, this friend is nuts for Halloween--she has more Halloween gear than most people have for Christmas. She rules.)
Anyway, I taught SBG to say "boo!" and briefed our friends at the Haunted House, so whenever anything popped out and was scary, SBG said "BOOO!" at them and they went, "Eeek!" It was awesome. Watching a scary vampire queen go Eeeek was a hoot. One guy didn't get the memo and he was wearing a skeleton costume, which SBG had seen before. All he did was stand there and SBG was too intimidated to say boo. But it was ok, she just clung to me a little tighter than before. And she's still talking about the guy in the mask. And, every now and then, she still will go "boo!" at us, which is ok, too.
A tiny problem is that Boo is SBG's nickname for my mother. Oh well.
A side note: the husband of a friend, whose son was about SBG's age a few years ago, admonished her with "There's a special place in Hell for mothers who steal their kids' Halloween candy." And now I qualify! Yay! Go, me!
Know where I don't wanna be? In the part of hell where husbands go if they talk to their wives like that.
posted by jwoods at 7:27 AM
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