On resisting Halloween guilt

According to all the major retailers, it is now officially the Halloween season.

Well, great.

I have nothing against Halloween, honestly; I think it’s a very fun holiday, and it’s a blast to experience it now through my kids’ eyes.  But somewhere between my childhood and my life as a mom, Halloween became a holiday with tremendous Expectations attached to it.  Now, in addition to scaring down a costume for your kids, you also have to string witches on your porch, put tombstones on the lawn, carve multiple pumpkins, arrange luminarias along the walkway, and, apparently, acquire an entirely new set of dishes with haunted houses on them.   Decorating for Halloween has now become like decorating for Christmas — and if you’ve been reading this blog for a while, you know that I don’t do that, either. (Not outside, anyway.)

If you love this kind of thing, and lots of people do, I think that’s terrific; I love looking at your decorations each October.  Keep putting them out.  But I have to say that — due to lack of time, and mostly lack of inclination — Halloween is going to be pretty low-key around here.  We’ll do the jack-o-lantern thing; maybe, if I’m feeling really spendy, I’ll spring for a very small Halloween flag to put in the front flowerbed.  That will be about it, though.  Our house will  be the lame house, once again.

That’s okay.  My boys are four and two; I figure I’ve got a few more years before they start complaining about how un-festive our front yard is.  By that time, hopefully they will be able to do the decorating themselves.   Maybe my lack of craftiness will actually be a good thing, inspiring my boys to heights of glorious creativity somewhere down the road.

I’m liking that theory.  Let’s go with it.

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