Halloween: Version 2.0

When I think of Halloween as a kid, I remember dumping my candy loot out on my granny and grandpa's table and attacking the chocolate bars. I'd feed my sugar high into oblivion and bask in the greatness that was trick-or-treat.

I think a lot of parents (myself included) want the same air of excitement that we had as kids for our own brood. The wonder of Christmas, the mystery of the Easter Bunny, and the sugar coma that came from knocking on doors with an excited demand for candy. All such things are embedded in our child-like psyche that feed the wonderment of the soul.

I too had such hopes for my kids, but I noticed a change in my push for it this year. I usually get so excited for trick-or-treat, I think my husband might have to sedate me. This year, however, it's finally sinking in that the excitement of Beggar's night did not befall my first born quite like it did me. I had to stop myself and ask why my other-worldly hype for the candy holiday was more than subdued this year. I think I realized that Halloween: Version 2.0 had to take the place of my original.

Rowen does not love trick-or-treat. And while it may seem a little silly that it makes me sad, I fully admit that it does. He does not enjoy putting on a costume, though I notice he likes to dream about it. He does not like people seeing him, so my idea of a ghost costume to cover him up didn't even do the trick. He instead opted the last two years to man the candy table with dad for the other ghosts and goblins looking for their own sugar rush. Of course, his version included screaming and running inside every time someone came to the house. At least he kept coming back outside- a testament to his desire to be involved, but a sad reminder that he can't get past his fears.

At the end of the night, a little girl came to the house and instead of saying the traditional "trick-or-treat," she peered inside and squeaked out a timid "Hi Rowen." It was a girl from his class at school- a sweet little princess awaiting a reply. Of course Rowen was so taken aback by it, he instead pulled out his classic scowl and ran away. After she was gone, the scene turned very sad. I saw Rowen bury his head in the couch and say over and over, "I'm an idiot!" It was hard to watch. After calming down though, he said he wanted to talk to her the next day at school. It's always there- his desire for friendship- he just takes more time than the average joe to find it.

So while it is a bit of a let down that I can't pass along a time-honored tradition to Rowen, I have to realize that those memories are mine- not his. It's a good reminder that we all do things our own way, and I can't expect Rowen to take on my version of Halloween. Rowen was more than happy to rely on his 2-year-old brother to scour the neighborhood for candy to share with him. He was more than happy to run away from the trick-or-treaters and make big fun out of being a little silly I guess. I think he had a good time in his own way. A few bumps along the way just propel him to keep working at it. It will happen. His way. His time.