Halloween was last night. That’s right, on November 5th. FIVE days after the spooky candy-filled night that the rest of the country enjoyed. You see, we live in the freakish Northeast, where seasons don’t follow their own rules and we get blizzards before the leaves have even finished hitting the ground.
For almost two months we have been prepping Owen for last night. Often mentioning how he’ll be dressed as Woody, the other half of his cousin’s Buzz. How he’ll go house to house exclaiming “trick or treat!” and will be given oodles of candy
that his mama will eat. Ninety percent of the time we were met with “I NOT TRICK OR TREAT” in normal tantrum fashion, but every once in a while, there was a glimmer of hope that the night might just happen without incident.
Well, fast forward a couple months and a blizzard later and though there was no nap and the previous 24 hours were spent vomiting into bowls, sinks, and on bean bag chairs, Halloween can be considered a success. Though there was a moment there where immediately following the costuming, he was adamant on ripping that thing off, we were able to spend a half hour or so going through the neighborhood.
We were not successful, however, at keeping them up late in order to catch up to the clock change tonight. But, after no nap and a long night of chaos? My sanity was more important than the time on the clock.