Halloween Spunk

October's been a tough month for us all here. James has progressively resisted going to school, practically breaking down in tears and begging me not to go. Routine has flown out the window in chunks at home and at school almost daily. Second grade is ramping up challenges for learning and behaviours.

Witch and splatty witch, on our way to school
on Halloween morning.

To James, October was a magic month. It meant Halloween. He was very firm about what he wanted to be: a witch. Not a warlock. Not Harry Potter. A witch. He asked every day to go looking at the Halloween decorations. Splatty witches are still a big thing for him, and luckily I found a version of one at the Dollar Store and brought it home is September, because they were gone like *that* and James took immense pleasure in helping to set it up on our very own garage door. It kind of made up for our van disappearing and not coming back (that's a story for another time). He also liked spiders, webs, and bats. Skeletons fascinated him.

A trip to the Party Store a few weeks back put a big grin on his face. We got him his very own witch's hat and an Angry Bird trick-or-treat bag. K-Mart had a dynamite 50% off sale on costumes the day before Halloween and I picked up capes for his sister and him. A good friend sent us scads of cool glow-in-the-dark necklaces, which we all wore around our necks so the motorists could see us.  James' Halloween witch's cup was full.

It was very hot until the day of Halloween; then it rained that afternoon and evening. James didn't care. He helped put up decorations and kept talking about Halloween while we ate pizza. Then he pulled on his boots, held a ladybug umbrella in one hand, high above his pointy hat, and his Angry Birds bag in the other before sailing out into the dark and stormy night. We went three blocks in the rain, braving puddles, Evil Dead-type houses, and barking dogs. At each door, James sang out "Trick-or-Treat!!" and "thank you!" with an occasional "Happy Halloween!" thrown in for luck.

We arrived back home, soaking. James was happy to change into his jammies and curl up with blankets and watch me hand out treats at our door. Right now I am looking at an Angry Birds bag that is 1/3 full of candy. He hasn't touched it. It's not the important part for him.