No holiday ever goes perfectly
I have grand plans for every holiday. Like so many mothers, I want to make the holiday season — kicking off in October and ending at New Year — magical. This means the full range of events, decorations and anything else I can think of.
I started planning Halloween about a month ago. I bought candy necklace kits, pumpkin candy molds, printed out Disney pumpkin templates and went searching for the perfect costume.
It was going to be a virtual Martha Stewart holiday.
Then, Mrs. Stewart’s armor began showing its chinks.
First, I realized Sutton enjoyed eating the candy necklaces more than making them for her friends. Then, I realized I had no chocolate to make the candy pumpkins and, looking at the week ahead, there probably wouldn’t be time to get them done.
Then there was the issue of the pumpkins.
Pumpkin carving is one of those things that, on paper, looks like it would be fun. We went as an entire family to pick out two special pumpkins and I had every intention of carving them.
Then I remembered I hate carving pumpkins. I don’t like the way they smell or the process of scooping out the pumpkin pieces. So, instead of Super Mom, Super Dad stepped in, expertly carving Minnie and Mickey Mouse pumpkins.
Of course, I forgot to purchase lights for the interior of the pumpkin, so we had to stick a flashlight in the top just to show Sutton what they would look like.
I had one last chance for holiday redemption.
I ordered Sutton’s ladybug costume almost a month ago. I found black tights and sparkly black shoes and even a red poof for her hair. Then, I let her try it on (preventing a Halloween night meltdown) but managed to get it back off of her without it being destroyed. That took a bribe of M&Ms, but sometimes you have to do what you have to do. Now, Halloween is only a couple of days away, and there are no candy necklaces for Sutton’s friends. No special treat bags with chocolate pumpkins for the neighborhood children. The pumpkins turned out great, but it’s not as if I had a hand in those. Only the costume saved me.
I’m sure Martha Stewart would have accomplished it all on time, but last time I checked, perfection was her full-time job.
It’s certainly not mine.
– Leada Gore is publisher and editor of The Hartselle Enquirer. Her column appears each Wednesday.