To My Son, on His Fourth Halloween

Dear Trombone,

You may not realize this, but I bring a lot to the table as a mom. I am funny, loving, kind and fair. I feed you, water you, hug you and bathe you. I gave you a brother to play with and even though you don’t always appreciate this, I know you will thank me someday when I am doddering and annoying (yes, even more than now) and you have someone with whom to go for beers and talk smack about me.

Not all moms would let you go out without a coat when it’s cold. Not all moms would forget to make you eat vegetables. Not all moms would play your favourite song 300 times in a row so you can learn all the words. I am SPECIAL.

However, I am not a crafty mom. I do not craft. Crafts are when people glue things to other things and they look good. Do you remember the last time we glued some things to other things and then we dropped them on the floor and they got covered with cereal and cat hair because our ‘craft’ table is also our ‘eating’ table? Yeah.

I am down with crayons and paper, I am down with scissors, I am down with stickers and – if it’s a very special occasion – glitter, because who doesn’t love glitter? I tried to branch out and iron some autumn leaves between sheets of waxed paper but you guys didn’t care. And I was fine with that. At least I tried.

Now it is the time of year when the crafty moms – all of whom I admire greatly because well-done crafts are fantastic! – get super crafty. It is Halloween. You are 4 years old so all you know is:

1. People ask you what you’re going to be for Halloween.
2. You tell them.
3. A costume appears.
4. You wear it.
5. Candy!

Yes, it is a simple, wondrous existence you lead.

Listen, I have something to tell you. I can not make you a Buzz Lightyear costume. I just can’t. I don’t know how, I don’t want to puzzle it out, I don’t sew, I don’t want to sew and I don’t have the time or money to go to fifteen different stores buying 25 pieces of things that I will then have to connect to one another so that you can look sort of like a fictional character for an hour.

Yes, you are going to have to be “something made of stuff from around the house” for Halloween for the rest of your childhood. You are that kid with the mom who is creative but not crafty.

It is better this way, trust me. If I tried to make you a Buzz Lightyear costume, no one would know what you were and you’d have to explain it over and over again and the kids in your preschool class would say, “That’s not what Buzz Lightyear looks like,” – not because they are mean, but because they are 4 years old, like you, so they know EVERYTHING and aren’t afraid to tell you about it – a quality I admire, actually, and one I wish you could hold onto throughout your life; the confidence inherent is inspiring, truly – and then you’d argue with them and then their moms would look at me with pitying glances and slip me some coupons from Michaels, the craft emporium where anyone can be creative – anyone! – and I would have to say, “Thanks but I feel like I’m in a giant scrapbook when I walk in there,” only more politely because your friends are important to you.

You wanted to be a ghost for three weeks and I gave myself mental high-fives because ghost is EASY. Ghost is Slacker, Non-Crafting Mom’s Halloween dream come true. I was quite prepared to massacre a pillow case for you and then – and then! – at the pumpkin patch event on the weekend, you saw a small child in a Buzz Lightyear costume and you changed your mind. You changed your mind!

What you don’t realize, Trombone, is that I talked to that small child’s grandmother and she told me she has been watching Craigslist for a Buzz Lightyear costume for WEEKS and none appeared. Then she went to a rummage sale, that very day that we saw them, and she found the costume there and lo! she snatched it up! That is why that child looked so smug and self-satisfied, because he got what he wanted most in the world – to be a real Buzz Lightyear for Halloween.

You? You will not get this. The next few years will be fraught with tension, I fear, because you have your opinions and my, “Hey wear your Superman pyjamas! Now you’re Superman!” ideas will not sit well with you – not to mention your opinionated little brother – but I’m sorry. I don’t have the time or inclination to get craftier. And I’m not paying $30 for the flammable plastic “Doom Pirate of Doom” outfit.

Or $5 for the ripped, stained, used costumes at Value Village. Given the context, that stain is *probably* chocolate, but you’re my first born – why take a chance.

Hoping you can console yourself with the short list of things that make me awesome at the top of this page as well as consider my idea of “Rock Star” for Halloween costume, I mean after all we have FIVE guitars in the house,

I remain,
yr everloving mother
non craftium