As a person that loves to celebrate each holiday to the fullest, I was most excited about Halloween. Mountain Child would be old enough to better understand Trick or Treat Night, and we would actually be living in a place that really looked and felt like fall. I was so excited, in fact, that I purchased Mountain Child’s Halloween costume on September 4th, the day after I got the Pottery Barn Kids catalogue in the mail.
Whoever puts together the Pottery Barn Kids catalogue should get some kind of award for evil genius in advertising. When I look at those things, I actually can imagine my kid right there in those pages, playing on her pink 100% wool rug, fluffy comforter on her perfectly made bed, room completely organized with cubbies and shelves and bins everywhere. Her hair is neatly fixed. And there is no food from breakfast on her shirt while she plays very nicely with her age-appropriate, eco-friendly, educational toys. I start believing that it is possible to enter this beautiful parallel universe. The section on their Halloween costumes is no exception.
I spied the Cupcake Costume last year in the PB Kids catalogue. It is a felt costume that is a dress but in the shape of a huge cupcake. The bottom is the wrapper of the cake, and the top is pink icing with polka dots. It even had a headband with a strawberry on top. I wanted to get it, but I waited too long and they were sold out. I was determined to get it this year. My daughter was going to have the cutest costume ever. No fairy or princess costume for her! So I ordered it as soon as the costumes came out. I will not even tell you how much I paid for it because it is embarrassing how much I did.
The Cupcake Costume comes in the mail and I joyfully tell Mountain Child that she gets to go trick or treating very soon and she gets to be a cupcake! She gets very excited over the idea of a cupcake given her undying affection for all things sugary sweet. But when I took the costume out of the box to show her the Cupcake Costume, she gives me a dirty look and throws the thing on the floor. “WANT CUPCAKE,” she demands. Oh, great. I forget that two-year olds are such literal creatures and she probably thought she was getting a real cupcake. I hang the costume in her closet and decide to let her try it on later.
Later on, I try again. But she apparently has remembered the big disappointment of her costume not being a real cupcake, and she still refuses to try it on. So I decide to just give it a few days. The days turn into weeks and still Mountain Child refuses to try it on, even if I bribe her and tell her that we can “practice” trick or treating and get candy. She just would cry for the candy and wouldn’t go near the costume. Finally, I decide to just put it on her, and hopefully she will get over it. I take out the costume and somehow wrestle her into it. She is writhing, kicking and screaming and I can’t get her head through the top of the costume. She runs around with her head still somewhere in the costume as if she is the Headless Cupcake Girl. It took me an hour and about ten storybooks with her blankie for her calm down again. She is probably going to need some therapy later for this childhood experience.
It was clear that my fantasy about my daughter becoming a Pottery Barn Kids model with her Halloween costume wasn’t going to come true. But it is now only about two days before it is time to trick or treat and I have nothing. It figures. I try to plan ahead, but I am still in the exact same position as if I were to have done nothing and spent nothing. I ignored a simple fact about my child: if it doesn’t resemble pajamas, she isn’t going to wear it without a fight. I head to Target and get some plain black “cozy” pants and a black t-shirt. I throw some white duct tape in. Out of sheer hopefulness, I add a headband with zebra ears and a zebra tail. And I proceed to create a zebra costume. To my surprise, the finished product looked very zebra-ish and the whole thing cost me under $20. I was ecstatic for my craftiness, although I will tell you to cut duct tape into zebra stripe shapes is no easy task.
Meanwhile, I called a friend to see if her daughter wanted to perhaps borrow the costume. She stopped by, and I handed over the Cupcake Costume. Mountain Child, wept bitterly over us lending out the costume and wails, “MY COSTUME! WANT CUPCAKE COSTUME!!”
But, honey, you didn’t like it. Remember when you cried when Mommy tried to get you to wear it?
“MY COSTUME, MY CUPCAKE COSTUME! IT’S MINE!” Mountain Child is sobbing.
“We will get it back. We are just sharing it for a little bit. Will you wear it when we get it back?”
“GET CANDY?”
“Yes and get candy.”
Mountain Child seems satisfied with this. I then show her the zebra costume. She is mildly interested and begins to make zebra noises. “ZEBRAS GO LIKE THIS: NEIIIIIIGHHHHHHH! ZEBRAS HAVE STRIPES!”
Okay, we might have a hope now. However, predictably, when it is time to get dressed for Trick or Treat Night, she cries again for the Cupcake Costume and doesn’t want to be a zebra. And the headband with the zebra ears and the tail? Forget it. Somehow, I get that damn zebra outfit on her and put her hair in pigtails. We get her pumpkin pail and go out on the front porch to see the other kids who have eagerly started to trick or treat. She didn’t want to go. Of course. I carry her to three houses to see if the act of getting the candy would be enough to convince her that this was indeed fun. That doesn't work either. Then Grandpa Dennis offers to walk with her. Suddenly, she is as cheery as can be and happily walks off with him. And as I watch my two-year old skip off with grandpa, her zebra stripes peeling off, giving her a look that is now more mummy than zebra, her crooked pigtails, and her trying to dig into her pumpkin pail for more candy, I am reminded once again that planning ahead with preschoolers isn’t as effective as it should be. Unless you live in a Pottery Barn Kids catalogue.
Whoever puts together the Pottery Barn Kids catalogue should get some kind of award for evil genius in advertising. When I look at those things, I actually can imagine my kid right there in those pages, playing on her pink 100% wool rug, fluffy comforter on her perfectly made bed, room completely organized with cubbies and shelves and bins everywhere. Her hair is neatly fixed. And there is no food from breakfast on her shirt while she plays very nicely with her age-appropriate, eco-friendly, educational toys. I start believing that it is possible to enter this beautiful parallel universe. The section on their Halloween costumes is no exception.
I spied the Cupcake Costume last year in the PB Kids catalogue. It is a felt costume that is a dress but in the shape of a huge cupcake. The bottom is the wrapper of the cake, and the top is pink icing with polka dots. It even had a headband with a strawberry on top. I wanted to get it, but I waited too long and they were sold out. I was determined to get it this year. My daughter was going to have the cutest costume ever. No fairy or princess costume for her! So I ordered it as soon as the costumes came out. I will not even tell you how much I paid for it because it is embarrassing how much I did.
The Cupcake Costume comes in the mail and I joyfully tell Mountain Child that she gets to go trick or treating very soon and she gets to be a cupcake! She gets very excited over the idea of a cupcake given her undying affection for all things sugary sweet. But when I took the costume out of the box to show her the Cupcake Costume, she gives me a dirty look and throws the thing on the floor. “WANT CUPCAKE,” she demands. Oh, great. I forget that two-year olds are such literal creatures and she probably thought she was getting a real cupcake. I hang the costume in her closet and decide to let her try it on later.
Later on, I try again. But she apparently has remembered the big disappointment of her costume not being a real cupcake, and she still refuses to try it on. So I decide to just give it a few days. The days turn into weeks and still Mountain Child refuses to try it on, even if I bribe her and tell her that we can “practice” trick or treating and get candy. She just would cry for the candy and wouldn’t go near the costume. Finally, I decide to just put it on her, and hopefully she will get over it. I take out the costume and somehow wrestle her into it. She is writhing, kicking and screaming and I can’t get her head through the top of the costume. She runs around with her head still somewhere in the costume as if she is the Headless Cupcake Girl. It took me an hour and about ten storybooks with her blankie for her calm down again. She is probably going to need some therapy later for this childhood experience.
It was clear that my fantasy about my daughter becoming a Pottery Barn Kids model with her Halloween costume wasn’t going to come true. But it is now only about two days before it is time to trick or treat and I have nothing. It figures. I try to plan ahead, but I am still in the exact same position as if I were to have done nothing and spent nothing. I ignored a simple fact about my child: if it doesn’t resemble pajamas, she isn’t going to wear it without a fight. I head to Target and get some plain black “cozy” pants and a black t-shirt. I throw some white duct tape in. Out of sheer hopefulness, I add a headband with zebra ears and a zebra tail. And I proceed to create a zebra costume. To my surprise, the finished product looked very zebra-ish and the whole thing cost me under $20. I was ecstatic for my craftiness, although I will tell you to cut duct tape into zebra stripe shapes is no easy task.
Meanwhile, I called a friend to see if her daughter wanted to perhaps borrow the costume. She stopped by, and I handed over the Cupcake Costume. Mountain Child, wept bitterly over us lending out the costume and wails, “MY COSTUME! WANT CUPCAKE COSTUME!!”
But, honey, you didn’t like it. Remember when you cried when Mommy tried to get you to wear it?
“MY COSTUME, MY CUPCAKE COSTUME! IT’S MINE!” Mountain Child is sobbing.
“We will get it back. We are just sharing it for a little bit. Will you wear it when we get it back?”
“GET CANDY?”
“Yes and get candy.”
Mountain Child seems satisfied with this. I then show her the zebra costume. She is mildly interested and begins to make zebra noises. “ZEBRAS GO LIKE THIS: NEIIIIIIGHHHHHHH! ZEBRAS HAVE STRIPES!”
Okay, we might have a hope now. However, predictably, when it is time to get dressed for Trick or Treat Night, she cries again for the Cupcake Costume and doesn’t want to be a zebra. And the headband with the zebra ears and the tail? Forget it. Somehow, I get that damn zebra outfit on her and put her hair in pigtails. We get her pumpkin pail and go out on the front porch to see the other kids who have eagerly started to trick or treat. She didn’t want to go. Of course. I carry her to three houses to see if the act of getting the candy would be enough to convince her that this was indeed fun. That doesn't work either. Then Grandpa Dennis offers to walk with her. Suddenly, she is as cheery as can be and happily walks off with him. And as I watch my two-year old skip off with grandpa, her zebra stripes peeling off, giving her a look that is now more mummy than zebra, her crooked pigtails, and her trying to dig into her pumpkin pail for more candy, I am reminded once again that planning ahead with preschoolers isn’t as effective as it should be. Unless you live in a Pottery Barn Kids catalogue.
Actually, I am related to one of the editors of the PB catalogs. She is extremely creative and knows how to draw them in. Pictures in those catalogs are awesome and she suckers us all in to the desire of having that "special" thing from the catalog.
ReplyDeleteI wish I had her creativity - I could have a more lucrative side job. :D
That is really, really cool. Tell her that she is making my family go broke with those catalogues!
ReplyDelete