"Home is the place where, when you have to go there, they have to let you in."

-- Robert Frost

Saturday, October 30, 2010

Trick or Treat, Smell My Feet

This is how costume making went this week. The fabric on the floor was just too tempting.


And so, it wasn't any wonder that I was late getting to the school for Friday's Halloween parties because of finishing touches during a much needed nap.

I flew to the school with that panicked feeling in my chest. Visions of distraught children in my head, awaiting their routinely tardy mother to arrive with their costumes for the pre-party parade.

I even threw my car into park in the middle of the bus bay blatantly ignoring the rules. Frantically searching the line of kids streaming from classrooms, ready to circumnavigate the schools exterior. I desperately searched for two lost souls amongst the costumed extravaganza. My eye caught them immediately. They seemed okay, no tears, no frowns, and as I pulled them out and rushed them to the bathrooms for a quick change full of apologies, they sighed and shrugged and hurriedly dressed to rejoin the parade.

Later, a room mom who'd been assigned to aid in the changing, expressed her relief that I'd finally made it. She mentioned how surprised she'd been at the acceptance in my children. That there'd been no real frustrations or upset, just the acclimations of "She'll be here ... eventually." She said she'd been surprised, for had it been her child there would have been panic and falling to pieces. And what could I say? I guess being late to every event of their entire lives has it's benefits. Notoriety creates level heads and there are no surprises.

Keep their expectations low and you can only go up from there.


Janie, Our Cat in the Hat



Grant, Our Mummy



Eliza, intimidated by all of the merriment whilst wiping a sucker covered face on my pants leg

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