Ghosts, Goblins and Garden Gnomes

I knew this when I found out I was pregnant with a boy the first time around. I had maybe four, maybe five years tops, before I lost all cuteness control, fashion influence and first choice power concerning Halloween costumes.

Noah's first Halloween was a blast - he was our little Giraffe and as cute as can be. His second Halloween featured our little tot as an adorable baby Frankenstein and he stole the show. His third Halloween it was Buzz Lightyear for preschool and Woody for trick-or-treat. His fourth Halloween he was a fire truck. No, that is not a typo. He was very explicit about his costume request that year: 'no, not a firyure-MAN, mom, a firyure-twuck!' Amazingly, a little searching on the net and I found a fire truck costume. It was a big hit that year at Cleveland's Boo at the Zoo.

And then it happened. Noah's fifth Halloween was upon us. The Costume Express catalog arrived (because I was a customer of Birthday Express, naturally) and it was like a pumpkin rolling down a hill from there - smash! Granted, I didn't want the kid to dress up like a cow or pink bunny like in A Christmas Story, but I was a little deflated at the prospect of GI Joe, albeit the modern version, a white and gray space-age-looking character.

My parents invited Noah to spend the weekend and trick-or-treat at their house, too, that year. How excited was he that got to be Incredible Hulk at Nana and Papa's house that year, in addition to GI Joe at home. Coolness! Well, that's how I pretended to act, even if a Reese's Pieces-sized part of my heart was breaking off with each laser-shooting, green muscle monster costume he chose.'You look awesome, buddy!' Is what I'd tell him because he did and he was jumping out of his skin with excitement to go door to door and show the neighbors just how awesome he looked. Last year, he and the neighbor kids were all 'army guys.'

So handsome in his camo gear and face-paint, yes, but where was my little fuzzy giraffe?

Then along came Rowan. I was and still am over the moon about having boys, but man am I holding on to these baby years with a vice grip!  Ro was bound to have the most snuggly, cuddly cute costume available and I think I succeeded. His nickname is monkey, so inevitably, he was a monkey last year. So stinkin' sweet, I couldn't stand it.

2011 rolled around and I started thinking about Rowan's costume in, oh, May. Lame, right? N to the O. I've got to get my cute quotient when and where I can, ok? One evening I was giving Rowan his bath. He was into sticking his face in the bubbles. When he lifted up his head, I laughed out loud - he had a bubble beard and with those little ears sticking out a bit I said, 'you look like mommy's little gnome!' And, the vision for Rowan's 2011 Halloween costume was born.

Noah took no less than three weeks and about a dozen choices to settle on a werewolf this year - 'but it has to have ripped jeans, mom,' he said, matter-of- factly. Not just any werewolf, but a freaky, black, piercing-eyed werewolf from a cult horror film including gooey looking blood smears. Ummmm... 'Be sure to look through the whole catalog to see if there's anything else you like,' I heard myself blurting. Over the last few weeks, Noah considered a swashbuckling pirate (with beard or without) a Ghost Buster, Captain America, a vampire, The Flash, an astronaut... all ideas I was in full support of if we could forgo the Rated R gore. It was time to order and he had settled on the werewolf so I did some digging on the costume site and found a little less scary one without any blood. No, I'm not a Halloween prude, I just don't think that my 6 year-old needs to wear blood and guts quite yet. 

The package came yesterday and in the box was a tell-tale blue plaid ripped 'werewolf' style shirt, you know the one, right? Werewolf hands (kinda creepy) and a very, very hairy (shedding, in fact) werewolf mask with a scowl. It was no less scary, but less demonic for sure. Noah was pleased with it. We were secretly attempting to try the costume on before Rowan caught a glimpse and got scared. Too late, just as Noah was turning around, Rowan saw the side profile of this harry thing in his house and flipped. Noah ran out of the room and took it off, we soothed Rowan for a while and all was well. Werewolf man went in the basement for a few more weeks.

Now it was time for Rowan Gnome's big reveal. The costume was so perfect and I couldn't wait to get it on him. He was obviously tired and tentative due to our scarring episode with the werewolf but I was determined to try this on and dial up the cute. Rowan was less than excited about the one-piece and shoe covers. My clue should have been his repeated, 'mmmt-mmm's' and 'unt-uh's' that I tried to gloss over by giggling, tickling, putting the hat on myself, playing peek-a-boo and overall making a fool of myself. And then, this mean mommy, in search of a Halloween high, put the hat on her child. And he screamed. Poor kid. I took it off and put it back in the package as quickly as I could, and comforted him... all the while he's saying, 'I taird, I taird.' Which I didn't realize until about a minute later was 'I scared.' Darned wicked werewolf. You scared away the Gnome!

Ah well. Noah is psyched about his cool and frightening costume and that makes me happy. Even though I'm a little sniffly that it's not 2006 and he's not a Toy Story character.

Noah will be trick-or-treating with friends and the plan is that he won't put his mask on until he's down the road a bit. Hopefully this OCD Halloween strategy of mine will be successful and I'll get a fun little photo memory of Rowan, the Garden Gnome. Naturally, I have a plan B and my sorry butt is going to have to go to Target to pick up a less alarming costume.