This was Mallory when she was...almost three, I guess:
It was then that I renamed the occasion "Hallo-whine," to the amusement of a few. (Apparently it wasn't as funny as the comment Chris made years ago to a group of finicky candy-grubbers who came to our door: "Hey, this is Trick or Treat, not Pick Your Treat!" But I'm losing my point.)
Mallory's Halloween demeanor wasn't too much different last night, except that now she's almost six and a bit better able to control herself. She looked lovely in her ballerina fairy dress:
...but the whining started as soon as we left the house and didn't stop til we got back. It was partially my fault; she wanted to trick-or-treat with the little girl next door, but I'm not much of a fan of the little girl next door, plus that little girl's mom (of whom I am less of a fan) was wearing a witch outfit that was freaking Phoebe out, so I held us back with a variety of excuses (oops, gotta go potty! oops, forgot the glow sticks!) until the neighbors were well ahead of us. I consoled Mallory by pointing out that a school friend of hers lived down the street we were taking and so maybe we'd run into her, and then Mallory became obsessed with finding Melanie and her house. "Is that Melanie's house? Where's Melanie's house? Let's go straight to Melanie's house without stopping anywhere else! I really really want to find Melanie's house!" Then she inexplicably became frightened by any house that had any kind of decoration. Then she said her feet hurt. Then she whined about other things. She finally said she wanted to go straight home without getting any more candy from anywhere, so we did. She looked kind of sad. And I was sad for her, because she'd looked forward to Halloween for so long, and for some reason it just wasn't working out for her.
But then we got back to the house and her across-the-street friends were on their porch handing out candy, and she ran over to help and from then on the night improved. She sat on their porch and yelled at all the kids passing by to "Hey! Come get some candy from me!" and even gave them candy from her own bucket. I guess she prefers the giving of candy to the collecting of candy. Maybe we'll just leave her on our front porch next year.
Phoebe, on the other hand, had a great time. She's been excited about Halloween ever since the decorations started to go up in our neighborhood. "Look, it's another Halloweens!" she'd say as we drove around, pointing out the pumpkins and the witches and the scarecrows and the ghosts-es-es hanging from the trees -- oh, and the vampires, which were her very favorite. As the second child, she had a vast assortment of hand-me-down costumes to choose from, but she rejected two princess dresses and an Elmo suit before declaring she wanted to be a froggy. A froggy is the one costume we didn't have on hand, so she just wore her pumpkin shirt instead.
She loved Trick or Treating. She tore up the pavement, carrying her glow stick and her candy bucket. She fell twice and popped back up, saying, "I'm okay! I got my bucket!" At one point I asked her if she were tired and she said, "No thank you!"
So I'd call our Halloween about 75% successful. Which isn't too bad, really.
It was then that I renamed the occasion "Hallo-whine," to the amusement of a few. (Apparently it wasn't as funny as the comment Chris made years ago to a group of finicky candy-grubbers who came to our door: "Hey, this is Trick or Treat, not Pick Your Treat!" But I'm losing my point.)
Mallory's Halloween demeanor wasn't too much different last night, except that now she's almost six and a bit better able to control herself. She looked lovely in her ballerina fairy dress:
...but the whining started as soon as we left the house and didn't stop til we got back. It was partially my fault; she wanted to trick-or-treat with the little girl next door, but I'm not much of a fan of the little girl next door, plus that little girl's mom (of whom I am less of a fan) was wearing a witch outfit that was freaking Phoebe out, so I held us back with a variety of excuses (oops, gotta go potty! oops, forgot the glow sticks!) until the neighbors were well ahead of us. I consoled Mallory by pointing out that a school friend of hers lived down the street we were taking and so maybe we'd run into her, and then Mallory became obsessed with finding Melanie and her house. "Is that Melanie's house? Where's Melanie's house? Let's go straight to Melanie's house without stopping anywhere else! I really really want to find Melanie's house!" Then she inexplicably became frightened by any house that had any kind of decoration. Then she said her feet hurt. Then she whined about other things. She finally said she wanted to go straight home without getting any more candy from anywhere, so we did. She looked kind of sad. And I was sad for her, because she'd looked forward to Halloween for so long, and for some reason it just wasn't working out for her.
But then we got back to the house and her across-the-street friends were on their porch handing out candy, and she ran over to help and from then on the night improved. She sat on their porch and yelled at all the kids passing by to "Hey! Come get some candy from me!" and even gave them candy from her own bucket. I guess she prefers the giving of candy to the collecting of candy. Maybe we'll just leave her on our front porch next year.
Phoebe, on the other hand, had a great time. She's been excited about Halloween ever since the decorations started to go up in our neighborhood. "Look, it's another Halloweens!" she'd say as we drove around, pointing out the pumpkins and the witches and the scarecrows and the ghosts-es-es hanging from the trees -- oh, and the vampires, which were her very favorite. As the second child, she had a vast assortment of hand-me-down costumes to choose from, but she rejected two princess dresses and an Elmo suit before declaring she wanted to be a froggy. A froggy is the one costume we didn't have on hand, so she just wore her pumpkin shirt instead.
She loved Trick or Treating. She tore up the pavement, carrying her glow stick and her candy bucket. She fell twice and popped back up, saying, "I'm okay! I got my bucket!" At one point I asked her if she were tired and she said, "No thank you!"
So I'd call our Halloween about 75% successful. Which isn't too bad, really.
Comments
Mom
Plus I love our commentary on all things halloweens while we are walking.