the reluctant ladybug

You know, I almost forgot all about Halloween!

I was excited about Halloween this year. Last year, for her first, we dressed her up in a ladybug sleeper and visited our families.

We thought we’d do the same this year, stopping at five or six houses to see our immediate family in the area. We thought that maybe Madeline would like to be a ladybug for Halloween again this year; I found a costume I loved and couldn’t wait to take pictures, then hold them side-by-side so that I could sing Memories and bemoan the rapid passage of time.

Well.

The above picture pretty much sums up what she thought about the whole event. She didn’t want to wear the big puffy ladybug shell. Noted. Next year, nothing puffy.

We went into my office the day before Halloween for a little trick-or-treating excursion they hold; all the kids of the company come in and go around to each cube for candy. Last year we’d had lots of fun with this; however, it was not happening this year. Madeline showed up wearing her leggings and the little undershirt we’d gotten for under her costume. That was it. She refused the hat and shoes, even, that day.

She deigned to accept treats at the first two cubicles: a brownie and two packages of Smarties.

That was it. People had brought in special toddler-friendly treats for her, but she would have none of it. Anytime any one of these treats were carefully snuck into her pumpkin, she’d plop right back down on the floor and extract the offending intruder carefully, placing it on the carpet with a firm “NO THANK YOU!” to whoever had offered it.

It was… an interesting bit of time there.

After a while I admit that it became a bit of a game to try and sneak treats into her bucket, but she would have none of it. I drove home half-laughing and half-shrugging, frustrated with the sassy girl in the backseat (having forgotten, apparently, my Cardinal Rule of never giving her more than she could handle. You know, being that an entire office of relative strangers, weird treats and kids in costume might be a bit much).

On Halloween itself, there was one brief, shining moment when her Ahmie coerced her into wearing the costume in its entirety.

Only Ahmie could make her smile when she’s in that kind of a mood.

Next year, if she seems to feel similarly, we’ll take her to the grandparents and leave it at that. She just seemed overwhelmed by the whole business. It’s not something I even stopped to consider, given that she’s generally pretty easy to be with; I’d assumed she’d take it in stride. I think I need to remember my Cardinal Rule and let her lead me along.

I’ll admit: I was a little disappointed by her reaction at first. Having since gotten over myself and my own stupid Hallmark expectations for every holiday, I will only say this: Madeline, I am so proud of you for always making your opinion known, even when I disagree (and, dare I say, when I think you’re wrong). You are hilariously stubborn and independent and brilliant, and I couldn’t love you more.

Even if you were kind of a Scrooge about Halloween.