Halloween Isn't the Only Time to Dress Up
This is one of my favorite holidays of the year, but to be quite honest, I’ve never really thought about why. In all seriousness, I should hate the stupid day. October 31 officially marks the beginning of the end as far as my annual weight-loss efforts go. Every year, I optimistically think that I am strong enough to have an opened bag of chocolate sitting in my pantry. And every year, those little bite-sized bars of bliss wake me up at night and prove me wrong. Soon after, I’m on a slippery slope leading straight to cornbread stuffing, pumpkin pie lattes, and full-out yuletide gluttony. Trust me, it isn’t pretty. So, why in the world would I actually enjoy this most heinous of days?
I honestly think that it all comes down to the costumes. On Halloween, you are allowed to become something completely different than you are every day. For just one night, you can leave behind the labels, job descriptions, and stereotypes that normally weigh you down. You are given permission to try on strange and wonderful masks, just for size, knowing all the while that they are only temporary. In short, you are expected to experiment.
When she was little, my daughter Hannah wanted to be a princess for Halloween. She chose her ball gown with care and she practiced the Miss America wave. She had a blast. In fact, she loved it so much that she stayed with the theme for the next three Octobers. Each year, she got a little more elaborate with her costumes, and each year she really believed that she turned into a princess. But never, for one moment, did I believe that she would grow up to be an actual princess. I never feared or assumed that when she was 14, she would still want to wear the tiara and call everyone else “the little people”. The spirit of the holiday allowed me to relax a little and let her experiment with the type of person she wanted to be. I saw those days for what they were. I didn’t have any trouble watching her try on her high heeled shoes and glittery handbags on October 31. So why is it that all the other days of the year, when she tries on other costumes, I assume that these will stick? Take, for instance, the "messy costume" that my child is trying on these days.
In Hannah’s room right now, there is a mountain of clothes in the middle of the floor and a sea of stuffed animals strewn across an unmade bed. Look closely enough and you just may find something germinating inside her bookbag. Does that mean that she will grow up to be a slovenly, dirty, careless person who can’t organize her life or hold down a job? Most likely not. She is simply testing out how this feels. Just like her princess costume, she’s trying the “messy” costume on for size. It drives me crazy, but the more I nag, cajole, harp, or irritate her about it…the harder it will be for her to take the mask off one day. The more I focus on it and revolve our interactions around it, the more she will begin to internalize it and genuinely come to believe that she IS messy. It will become a sort of self-fulfilling prophecy simply because I can’t see the forest for the trees.
I can hear you now, “Wait a minute. How is she supposed to learn to be neat and tidy if you don’t focus on it and make her clean her room?” Instead of making her do something that I ultimately can’t without threats or manipulation, I try to expose her to a truth in this world: Life simply works better if you can find your floor. By tasting the natural consequences of her choices, I want her to see that it pays to be orderly. Sometimes she loses a school paper in the chaos. On many evenings, she is washing her own clothes because she can’t find any clean uniforms in her drawers. And on every other weekend, she has to spend a great amount of time in her room clearing the floor so that I can dust and vacuum because as she knows, whatever the vacuum touches goes to Goodwill. I do not need to threaten or sigh. There is no need to lecture or shout. I tell her that I’m available for help if she’d like some, but I wait for her to come to me.
Ultimately, I want her to internalize the good feeling that comes about from being organized. You see, I want more than a neat and tidy room. I want a child who recognizes the all-important law of sowing and reaping. I am only getting in the way of that if I rescue her from those consequences and allow my disapproval and anger to stand in their place.
So, as we all celebrate Halloween tonight with its myriad of creatures and critters trick or treating around the neighborhood, I have a challenge for both of us: Let’s try looking at our kids and their burgeoning selves with a little more levity and a little less fear on those days not called Halloween. Let’s take the spirit of his holiday with us as we continue to raise people who are constantly in the process of becoming. Let’s remember that out kids are not equal to their costumes. When we ignore this truth because of our own anxiety, we paint our kids into a corner and limit their potential. Trust me, I know that this is all easier said than done. My daughter is very fond of this messy costume she is trying on and it takes everything in me not to simply demand that she take it off. But, like the princess costume of years gone by, I am confident that with a little time, this too, shall pass.
Originally published October 02, 2008.
