The Halloween Garden
I watched a mom and dad at a Halloween garden event bargain with their toddler (2, maybe 3 years old) to put a jacket over her princess dress. The dress was really just thin pajamas, and this is Wisconsin in October at night; the temp was already in the forties and falling.
These parents were brilliant. Calm and logical, they pulled out all the stops. I don’t even come close on my best days. But, of course, we all know what happened.
Eventually Mom and Dad, bundled to the gills in winter gear, carried their pretty little princess in her pretty little princess dress into the Halloween garden without a stitch of outerwear. Any non-parents were probably on their phones with CPS. But for those of us raising tiny terrorists—toddlers! I mean toddlers—we pass the weary couple with a nod of understanding…and condolence.
For once I realized I’m not a total fuck-up. We are all, at one time or another, that couple with that kid—the tiny human trying to make their way in the world via tantrums at Target, meltdowns in the car, or simply refusing to wear a damn coat. Listening to another mom muttering, “If you bite me one more time, I swear to god…” I smiled and sipped my cabernet, knowing that all the times I want to—and do—fall in a heap on the floor and cry because how does anyone survive this, I’m not alone. My own 17 month Scandinavian prince would sooner lose all ten fingers before donning a pair of mittens, and he attended the Halloween garden sans costume because he ran screaming through the house when I tried to slip the lion outfit over his head. I did manage to stuff him into a jacket though. A small victory I felt like celebrating while I wondered how long it would take the pretty princess to get cold enough to finally cover her pretty princess dress. Oh the sacrifice of being Elsa for a day.
The Halloween garden experience was a lesson in the futility of trying to rationalize the irrational and control the uncontrollable. Sometimes they’ll wear the costumes. Sometimes they’ll wear the coats. It’s rarely ever both.