The Great Halloween Costume Debate

Halloween has always held a special place in my heart.  I didn’t get invited to many Halloween parties growing up, and I hate horror films – and yet I always get excited when October 31 rolls around.  Must be the candy corn.

I also love to dress up – I think it’s the actor in me (have to put that worthless BFA degree to use somehow).  As a teenager, I remember dressing up in drag for Halloween, complete with wig and falsies, which really should have been a red flag for my parents.  And in college, I scrounged up this amazing navy seamen uniform from the Salvation Army…it even had the name of its original owner written in the inseam in permanent marker.   I got more than a few lusty looks in that getup.

As a parent the excitement intensifies – for those first few years of their life, you get to dress them up for Halloween in whatever ridiculous outfit you choose (not so different from day to day life with an infant, really).

Maybe it was a cop out, but for her first Halloween, Peanut was scarcely one month old – so I dressed her up as a baby.  In her onesie.  With her pacifier.  (Just to make sure we are all on the same page….she wasn’t wearing a costume).  Every time the bell rang, I skittered to the door, candy bowl in hand.  And what was the first question I got?  “What is she dressed up as?”  COME ON PEOPLE!  She’s a baby!  It doesn't show a lack of Halloween spirit – I just didn’t want to wrestle a three week old into a polyester pea pod or a lycra ladybug.  Had Peanut been able to, I know she would have thanked me.

For her second Halloween, we decided to do something simple, and picked up a fuzzy giraffe costume.  We have some delicious pictures of her cuddling with Peter and rolling on the floor – which is amazing because I think she spent a grand total of 3 minutes in that outfit.

Now my husband likes to get his money’s worth, so this year, Peter suggested we recycle the giraffe…and I initially (read: reluctantly) agreed.  But when we did a little dry run, it just wasn’t as cute as I remembered it.  The ears are all floppy and flaccid, the fur is matted (year old yogurt, perhaps?), and it has the most unflattering hips…like enormous shoulder pads glued to the waist.  I wonder how she made it through a doorway, they are that large.  Peanut wasn’t pleased with it either.  So we decided to check out our options at the local Target.

And that, my friends, was an exercise in futility.  You see, if you are a little girl, your choices at Target are fairly limited.  Basically, you have one of the following three options:

-You can be a slutty cat

-You can be a slutty witch, or

-You can be a slutty princess

While the boys get to be superheroes and wizards, the girls get some version of a short skirt, halter top, fishnets, and heels.  Is this Halloween or 2 for 1 night at the stripper bar?    Our daughter, the Halloween hooker - every parents wildest dream!  I was hoping for a more aspirational choice – like a doctor or a lawyer (a miniature faux leather briefcase for her candy – trick or treat, indeed!).  Peanut is only two – and she has plenty of time to show off her navel.  Plus, this is the northeast in October – the only people who dress in their underpants in fifty degree weather do so because all they have is underpants!

We did end up finding a delicious doctor costume online (and I was very specific about this...doctor, not nurse...no disrespect to nurses) – white lab coat, blue scrubs, and stethoscope.  It is absolutely darling, and assuming she agrees to wear it, we will be all set.  

As for the slutty princess, maybe I judged it too harshly.  After all, I don’t have a costume yet.

She did it!

It's like Christmas, Disneyland, and winning the Academy Awards all rolled into one:

Peanut made pee pee on the potty!

Fair warning - if you are grossed out by the mere mention of defecation or urination, you may want to check out another blog...and come back next time for more hilarious adventures in gay parenthood.  If you couldn't give a shit (literally) please read on!

So yes, tonight our daughter used the toilet for the first time.  She'd been testing it out, warming the seat with her tushie, but tonight she finally took it for a test drive.

I never thought I would be so excited to see a teaspoonful of urine pooling at the bottom of my daughter's faux toilet (or what my husband affectionately calls "the poop box").  But there it was...and in that moment you would think that Peanut had just discovered the cure for the common cold!

It started out as a normal (and blessedly tantrum-free) evening - running around, dancing, having a grand time - when Peanut announced that she had to poop.  Since she brought it up, I suggested we go have a seat on the potty.  I fully expected that it would be another false alarm - which is fine.  Peanut is about to turn two years old, so while we would be pleased if she was toilet trained, we aren't stressed about it or pressuring her in any way.

Meanwhile, Peanut has started to take an interest of late in her purple and white plastic poop box, and has even begun to ask to sit on it.  Peter has done the potty dance twice before without any luck.  In fact, the first time she sat on the potty, Peter decided to stand just outside the bathroom door to give Peanut "her privacy".    Unfortunately, privacy is overrated - and resulted in Peanut pooping in the middle of the white bathmat.  Lesson learned.

So tonight, we headed upstairs and Peanut settled down to do her business while I grabbed a book figuring we might be in for the long haul.  Not ten seconds later, the toilet began to sing...something about flushing or toilet paper or something.  At first I figured Peanut must have discovered a button or switch...but then I remembered that the thing is pee-activated and realized that the poop box was singing for Peanut! Lo and behold, the toilet had indeed received a light sprinkling - more of a drizzle than a rain - but who am I to quibble over my daughter's first potty party.

And before I know it, I am showering her with accolades and kisses, congratulating my big girl on using the potty.  "I made pee pee on potty," Peanut repeated, and we both smiled and laughed, celebrating her achievement.  We called Peter at work to share the good news (and my mom - and even told the next door neighbor when she stopped by...overkill?), and I allowed her to watch an Elmo You Tube clip while chowing down on her favorite treat, M&Ms (initiating a lifelong cycle of celebrating rites of passage with food..I am Jewish, after all).

There really is only one downside.  Being a faux toilet, her potty isn't connected to our septic system, so whatever she leaves behind in the poop box has to be cleaned up by hand...literally (making this thing marginally more repulsive than changing diapers).  So the fact that tonight was only pee really makes it a win for both of us!