Costumes or what I'm really scared of this Halloween.

I have Halloween costumes to make this week and I’m feeling incredibly intimidated. I’m sitting here thinking, “Mel, you fool! Why are you typing when you should be drafting intricate plans for your children’s debut on the super hero circuit? Why blog when you could be sewing shiny pleather pants or making a paper mache muscle chest ?!”

Yeah. I should get on that. I had awesome costumes as a kid but it’s just reason number 987 that I will never be as cool as my mom.

Example you ask? When I was in fifth grade I wanted to be Cleopatra. My Mom helped me dye my hair black and we found the perfect snake jewelry at a thrift store. I would love to have it now. The draping we did with a bed sheet would have made Michael Kors and Nina Garcia cry happy tears. I practiced my most royal saunter until my eyes turned purple. The only snafu popped up when we realized we bought semi-permanent dye by  mistake. I sported that jet black hair until my mom was sick of it. Eventually she made me sit in the tub and shampoo my head fifteen times in a row. A little hair loss and scalp bleeding never hurt anyone.

On the other end of the Halloween costume spectrum my biggest fail happened when I was fifteen. I borrowed an orange jumpsuit from the correctional center my dad worked at. It was the opposite of attractive and despite a good washing, it smelled like pee and bleach. Not a good move for a socially awkward teenage girl. I told everyone who asked that I got it from my Dad and yes, it was real. They misinterpreted that. Sorry Dad.

Despite costume fear, I am so down with the Halloween train this year. Yesterday my two year told his Vovo that he was not Phinny but in fact, Batman. How cool is that? We are at that stage! He’s been practicing trick or treating for weeks. Although usually he only gets a string cheese or a cracker or a cable bill, you know, whatever’s handy at the moment. Imagine how cool he’ll think the real thing is. You have no idea how many times a day my two little boys make me smile. I have never, ever been more excited about a holiday season. I’m squealing inside at the thought.   

Alright. Wish me luck, I have flour and water to mix and form and paint.  Yippee.