Halloween Partying
I did double-duty at the school on Friday that started with the costume parade and class parties.
I’ll have better pictures of the kiddos later but we opted on a dinosaur costume for Bode and Hadley went as the White Witch (Narnia is her favorite movie).
Jamie would like me to add he was not a part of the dinosaur choice because he said it was too “cutesy.”
I say what is a KINDERGARTNER if not cute?!
My horror
As I was waiting for the kids’ costume parade in the gym, I struck up a conversation to the gal next to me whom I swear I’ve never seen before. A few minutes into talking, she mentioned her twins–one boy and one girl.
And then it slowly started coming to me. You know the one: the dreadful feeling when you realize you somehow know that person but had forgotten them. I tried to cover my tracks by saying, “Wait a minute. You live in my neighborhood and our kids were at the same bus stop last year.” Nice.
But it got worse. The woman knew everything about me. “I saw you on The Marriage Ref and you totally should have won etc. etc. etc.”
My bad memory and Jamie’s pumpkin are ruining my life.
Norm
And the most popular kid in second grade is…
Bode.
You know. My kindergartner.
Going to school with that kid is like going to school with Norm from Cheers. His besties in kindergarten adore him and after volunteering in Haddie’s class, he and I eat in the lunchroom with her. This time, I kid you not, the second grade boys fought over who got to sit with him. Then, afterward, they begged me to let him stay and play Yoshi on the playground. As they were lining up, they insisted Bode give them all high-fives.
I guess sometimes, nice guys do finish first.
My Insanity
My friend posted a fabulous tutorial on how to make Halloween cake pops. If you’ve never heard of them, allow me to enlighten you: these little cakes on a stick are nothing short of moist and amazing (this, from a non-cake eater). And so I thought they’d be fun to make for the kids’ Halloween party.
There was nothing fun about making them.
Really, it was my fault. Between the kids’ two classes, there were 50 pops. And then my ward’s trunk-or-treat was that night and I’d signed up to bring a treat. Add in the women I visit teach and I was well over a hundred.
And so I made three different cakes: red velvet, vanilla and spice and spent the entire day slaving in the kitchen. I’m not exaggerating: THESE LITTLE GHOSTS TOOK ME SEVEN HOURS TO MAKE.
The positive: They were met with many rave reviews.
The negative: Some kids took them but didn’t bother eating them. I wanted to grab their little sugar-stuffed cheeks and scream,”DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG THOSE TOOK ME TO MAKE?”
Perhaps becoming emotionally invested in a treat is dangerous on many levels.
After spending seven hours on my still-recovering knee, I could barely walk. But the caveat came when I was carrying the laundry down the stairs later that day. Workers had been there cleaning our carpet and the floors were still damp. I slipped. I slammed. I slid. I threw out my back and injured my arm.
I’m going as myself for Halloween this year.
Because that is scary enough.
I'm a Canadian-born mom of two, former Denver Post columnist, family travel writer, editor of MileHighMamas.com and 9News contributor. Expert on all things Utah, Denver, family and travel. Lover of laughter and life. Happily married to a man obsessed with growing The Great Pumpkin. 