Halloween is on Monday, and so naturally my oldest Smartling threw up on Tuesday.
It has become our Halloween tradition.
Every year, since our oldest was born, he has been sick on, or just before, Halloween. Every. Single. Year. It’s not always vomit—sometimes it’s just a nasty cold or an out-of-nowhere fever—but it IS always a crap shoot whether or not he’ll be well enough to participate in Halloween. It’s like our family’s special way of launching into the stress-fest that is the holiday season.
Welcome to the holidays! Please enjoy some puke!
Last year, both kids were mercifully healthy and we thought we’d avoided the curse of the Halloween sickness… right up until I barfed the night before Halloween.
I’m telling you. Every. Single. Year.
Every year, we spend all kinds of effort prepping costumes and trick-or-treating locations (some years we were even silly enough to agree to parties!) and every year we spend the days up until Halloween going, “Um… we’re not really sure if it’s going to work out, actually. We’ll see.”
It’s like the motto of parenting, isn’t it? Because when it comes to life with kids, the only thing that’s certain is unpredictability.
And so this year, as much as we love Halloween and trying to recreate every detail of the Endor Rebel Trooper costume for our eldest Smartling, we decided to chill out on the plans. We eased back on the prep. We’re going with the flow.
Which, I’ll be honest, is not my usual style. Going with the flow is fine on our own terms, but if anyone else is involved, I like a plan so things aren’t all rushy and sudden and go-go-go. BUT… making a plan for Halloween while you’re catching your kid’s barf in an orange sand bucket (SUPERHERO) is tough. That is a different kind of flow.
Instead of making rigid plans, we’re easing back a bit and letting things happen. The older Smartling appears to have recovered and the younger Smartling appears to be fine… but I know better than to count on it.
Because that one time that we planned meeting up with some buddies for trick-or-treating at the fancy shops near our neighborhood? Older Smartling, who was 18 months at the time and dressed adorably as a bitty duckie, projectile vomited all over the sidewalk in front of the fancy shops.
Maybe the holidays are too much pressure. Who knows.
Hopefully the building of an Endor Rebel Trooper helmet isn’t for naught, and hopefully there will be lots of trick-or-treating and joy and merrymaking. We know roughly what there is to do that day and roughly how we'd like to do it. But we’re not making any plans yet. Because… you know.
Maybe next year we’ll escape without sickness. We’ll see.