Earlier this week, we celebrated your very first Halloween!
There’s such a weird sense of pressure when it comes to first anythings, man, particularly first holidays.
Something about them takes on this impressive Sense of Meaning, because they have Never Happened Before, and you feel like you need to properly document them in order to fully capture the levity of how they were THE VERY FIRST THING.
Your first Christmas was easy, primarily in the sense that you were, like, two minutes old, and the fact that daddy and I showed up with pants on, (reasonably) alive, and with you was all that mattered.
But then you get to First Halloween, where—
and let’s be honest here—
the primary goal is to get cute AF pictures of you being very festive in your very first Halloween costume, not to mention find and/or craft said costume.
And the struggle to make that last part happen was real, because hashtag mama can’t sew.
We were also really limited in our costume selection because you continue to hate hats—
even the really super-cute, really super-soft buffalo plaid fleece ear flap one that I loved at Target.
WHY CAN’T YOU JUST LOVE THAT ONE
YOUR EARS ARE GOING TO FALL OFF THIS WINTER PROBABLY.
Your hatred of headwear rendered 90% of Nixon-sized costumes completely useless, because most of them were these cozy, bunting-style things with giant stuffed heads on them. The idea is that you’d wear the hood-head up and SUDDENLY TAH-DAH, you are a bear.
… except you’d be like,
THIS DEMON HOOD IS RUINING MY LIFE, BE GONE
and pull the head-hood off, effectively make it look like you were wandering around parading a recent kill over your shoulder.
(Which is an idea we could have totally gone with and really committed to, honestly. But I feel like we should save morbid humor until you’re at least two)
LOOK AT HOW RESPONSIBLE I AM YOU’RE WELCOME.
Thus, our costume quest for a non-hooded Halloween began.
The first stop was Once Upon a Child, where we had high hopes of finding you something adorable, warm and painfully cute.
Said hopes were quickly dashed as we thumbed through the racks and our options were basically pumpkin, pumpkin, is that a butterfly idk, that one has a tutu, and pumpkin.
In act two, we hunted for costumes at the actual store of Halloween, which lol forever why are tiny clothes NOT EVEN INTENDED FOR NORMAL LIFE so expensive?
There was this insanely precious gnome ensemble—WITH OVERALLS— that I probably would have attempted to put you in for normal life (because why limit the fun to just one day?), but its key defining feature (the delightful little gnome-beard) would’ve probably just pissed you off and/or been forcefully removed at its earliest opportunity.
So, solid nope.
End scene again.
For a hot minute, daddy & I briefly debated putting you in a dog costume. Because, hey, are they NOT designed for creatures that travel in the same manner you do right now anyway?
And how great would you look as a donut?
But ultimately, and through the power of an immense amount of felt, fabric glue and scissoring, I created you into a goldfish.
And being a fish is very exhausting.
Likely actually for real.
Because in my festive-fueled fervor TO CREATE, I neglected to consider the fact that you were basically wearing two pounds of felt & a metric ton of fabric glue.
Of course, I couldn’t just stop at crafting you into a tiny sea creature.
A…. SONfish….. if you will.
I decided the whole family would get in on the sea-themed fun.
Daddy would wear his waders & be a fisherman, you’d be our goldfishy, and I’d be a mermaid.
Except, as it turns out, waders don’t exactly mix well with dry land, so we got approximately zero pictures of this great idea.
This is what daddy looks like when he goes fishing for real anyway, though, so there’s that.
(Also, who knew they made fishing poles THAT TALL?)
During the day, we took you trick-or-treating around my work, the highlights of which included (1) you so thoroughly enjoying the Fig Newton from Ruth at the front desk that you made loud, ultra-pleased “MMMM!” noises with every bite we fed you; (2) you being offered a bowl of candy, into which you reached, grabbed a shiny Three Musketeers, then proudly dropped it back in because TAH-DAH; and (3) seeing a puppy, because any time any puppy is anywhere in existence, it is the greatest day.
Here’s you on your very first outdoor trick-or-treating adventure later that night, all cozied up in a giant fleece puff because climate:
The thing about having a non-walking human on Halloween is that there is no not weird way to trick or treat. It’s not like those miniature Snickers and shrunken bags of M&Ms going home for you, right?
Thus, we had a lovely time joining our friends (along with their superbly costumed troll doll & Hogwarts-themed offspring) in assuming the Attentive Parental Stand position at the end of numerous driveways, scoping out the assortment of costumes that paraded by.
I already can’t wait for next year, when we get to watch your sweet face come running back to us after every house, glowing with the pure joy of a rattling bucket full of candy.
Ten months old, dude, coming up on one month shy of a year before we know it.
Nine times out of ten, you’re the very first thing I see in the morning—
popping up next to me like little baby toast, your hair a puffy firework in the soft glow of not-yet-sunrise, waiting until you know I see you sitting there next to me before you bust out your first smile of the day.
Your current favorite toys include the plug to the space heater; outlets; Clementine’s food dish; water bowls; and anything small enough that you can push around the house and turn into a car.
Here and there, we hear words—
“mama”, “dada,” and “yeah” are the for-sures, but they’re not super consistent. Mainly you like to yell “mamamamamamamama” to summon my boobs, which you’ve recently decided are hilarious.
Your new thing is to stop nursing, pull yourself up to sitting, and then sit back to laugh at whichever side is exposed.
It greatly pisses you off if I cover back up before this important step is completed.
You are a total sunshine, baby boy, and I’m pretty sure life has never been as great as it’s been since you brought those glorious cheeks into our lives almost 11 months ago.
All my heart, all my life, baby dude.