Let me just start by saying that I do not care for Halloween.  Hate is probably a strong word, but I really do not care for Halloween. It’s sad really. I love the fall with its beautiful colors, pumpkins, soups, and crisp nights. I met my husband on Halloween many moons ago (10 this year!), which gives Halloween a major boost in my book. But the holiday itself has just never been my thing. It could be because I am the biggest baby that ever lived, and I will have nightmares if I see one too many scary movie trailers (or trailers for Criminal Minds –  terrifying!). It could be because I am just not that creative, so costumes are more stressful than exciting. It could also be that Halloween ruins the beauty of my fall decor with spiderwebs and vampires.  I mean whose idea was Halloween decoration anyway? Someone who hated mums and pumpkins and haybales on my porch, clearly. Anyway.

The fact that I don’t like Halloween really didn’t matter much between the end of my college years and beginning of my parenting years. My husband and I would just celebrate having met and skip the whole trick or treating thing. We don’t have very many costume-enthused friends either, so it wasn’t hard. However, now I am a mom and Halloween is kind of part of my thing for the next 16 years. Sigh.

Last year, my little man was a super easy-to-execute Jack-in-the Box. I got a cute jester hat from someone on Etsy, glued some pom poms to a shirt, and put him in a box fit to his stroller. He was adorable, I got credit for making him a costume, and it took 10 minutes to assemble (unless you count the 2 hours I spent looking for a cashmere jester hat. Shhh). See? Look how stinking cute.

Box 1 Box 2


Pictures like this make me tear up. He’s getting so BIG. This seems like a million years ago…where have the last (almost) two years gone? It’s amazing and terrifying all at the same time. But back to my story.

Somewhere around June or July, I saw a post for a pinata costume on Pinterest. You will come to learn that Pinterest has magical powers…it is able to convince me that I am capable of things far above my ability level. I blame the woman who made this costume really. First of all, her son was adorable, and second of all, she wooed me with a promise of a costume without sewing. I was immediately hooked and infected with delusions of grandeur. Not only would this be a great costume, it would be THE greatest thing I’d ever made. I pinned the site, saved it on my phone, and printed out the page, just in case. Super Pinata Mom had just made my day.

About a month ago, I made my plan. Excitedly, I drug little man through Michael’s, picking out felt. He was into it for a bit, until he realized that all of the felt was essentially the same and the colors weren’t that exciting. That night, after he was asleep, I started cutting strips. SPM had estimated about 30 sheets of felt, but I was determined not to get stuck with a half finished pinata costume and no more felt. I had 40 sheets, each of which I cut into 3 strips.  Over the next couple of weeks, I worked about an hour a night. Cutting felt into strips and then fringing each piece. In case you were trying to do the math, that’s 120 strips of fringe, or approximately 1200 little fringes. I had blisters on my blisters from the scissors, but I was on a mission.

Thankfully at the time, my husband was away for work. No one was a witness to my near-crazy dedication to this project. Of course I’m sharing it with whoever stumbles upon this page, but it’s over and I’m back to sanity now.

Once I finished cutting, I started gluing. If anyone wasn’t sure, hot glue is hot. And sticky. And burns. Now I had blisters on my scissor-induced blisters. But I persevered. SPM had made her How To video after already completing her son’s costume. I decided I’d take pictures as I went so that anyone who wanted to follow in my hot glued footsteps would have a road map.

stripsshirthatfinished1  whole

I was so proud. I texted my mom, my aunt, and my husband who was away. I had done it!  I was dreading the headpiece a little more. As super as SPM was, she had dropped the ball a bit on explaining the headpiece. I had no freaking idea how I was going to do it. I got some foam cones and some of that flexible foam paper from Michaels and got to work. I also continued to chronicle.

hatmake hat ears photo 5

I mean tell me that isn’t the coolest headpiece ever. It was designed to go on top of one of little man’s baseball hat, and I couldn’t wait until he woke up from his nap. (PS please excuse the mess behind these pictures. Obviously my fervor over this project meant something else had to give.)

When my beautiful, independent, brilliant son woke up for a three hour nap, I could barely contain my excitement to put his costume on him. Never mind that he has no idea what Halloween is, and no appreciation for the 15 hours it took me to make this costume. Never mind the fact that aside from some Twizzlers and candy corn, he doesn’t eat candy.

You know, I don’t know why I act surprised when he is stubborn and strong willed. My husband and I made him. He wanted NO parts of this costume. I managed to get the pants on but he literally ran from the headpiece, and I soon realized that the shirt wasn’t fitting over his head and onto his body without serious risk of having to cut it back off him. The felt had totally eliminated any of the give that the pajamas had started with a mere 10 hours before. My soul was crushed.

Fortunately, I was able to keep perspective during the whole thing. I don’t like Halloween, I reasoned, so it didn’t matter if he was willing to wear the costume or not. There are plenty of things that he’ll have to do whether he wants to or not, I told myself, Halloween isn’t one of them. But still. My blistered fingers and achy neck screamed for closure.

In the end, I had to cut the front off of the costume, shorten the sleeves, and remake the headpiece to get little man on board. I also may have had to bribe him with candy corn. On the morning of Zoo Boo here in Baltimore, I prayed he’d put the costume on. And guess what? My beautiful, independent, brilliant son did just that. He even wore the hat (which was a bucket that we then used for trick or treating) long enough for me to get one picture.

Of THE greatest thing I’ve ever made.