Fear and Parenting in Las Vegas

I’m on my last work trip for the month today.

And I’m here.

And my kids aren’t.

I wish they could be, but this year it just wasn’t feasible.

I’ll feel really guilty on Saturday and Sunday when I get to ride stuff without worrying about if Boo is tall or brave enough or who’s gonna sit it out with Doodle first so the other grownup can ride.

I’ll feel really guilty about going through the Haunted Mansion and not having to recite “Ghosts aren’t real. Ghosts aren’t real.” like some sort of yogic mantra.

I’ll feel really guilty about going to the bathroom and not having to hold the stall door while praying that a tushie is properly wiped and hands aren’t touching grody floors.

I’ll feel really guilty about not having to say “no” to a million souvenirs that would fill toyboxes and just collect dust.

Having some grown-up fun in a kids’ world will be an odd trip.

I’d send them a postcard, but they’d really be pissed.

All the same, I wish they were here because it is the happiest place on earth and they deserve that right now. More than ever.

Halloween is a big deal for me. Always has been. Always will.

My birthday is a few days before and my childhood is filled with happy memories of pumpkin patch birthday cakes complete with Linus cardboard cutouts.

I’m all about the Great Pumpkin. The belief in the magic of Halloween. The fantasy. The fun. The sugar. It’s like Mardi Gras where chocolate and taffy replaces hurricanes and plastic beads.

My planning for the day usually begins months in advance. I obsess over Halloween like a five-year-old-girl obsesses over her birthday.

This year, I have the kids on the big day. We’ve been planning Boo’s costume since she came home from the house-to-house candy begging circuit last year. Bronocs Cheerleader? Hannah Montana? Fairy? They all were on the list at some point over the last dozen months. Should she and her little brother dress up together? We’re running out of years before he’ll start to protest at being dressed up as a ragdoll to be her twin for a day.

She’s made a decision. Drumroll please…….

Mermaid. Ariel to be exact. But I’m not buying the craptastically made Disney version and I’m skipping the red wig that I know she’ll wear for five minutes and rip off her head with an “It’s too itchy!” whine.

Now the boy. That’s the current pickle. I could dress him up as a lobster, seahorse, fish, or some other sea creature to match his big sis. Very good for the post-doorbell “Awwww!” effect.

He lives his dinosaurs. They’re in his room. He sleeps with one every night. It kills me every time he says “DIHNOH-shores!”

But, we’ve done that one before. Time for something new.

He’s really into Thomas the Tank Engine, cars, planes and pretty much anything transportation related.

The Thomas outfit is okay, but generally pretty crappy looking in real life. There’s this really cute homemade version that I think I could pull off, but I suspect he’ll make it about two houses before he’ll pull it off.

He’s also all about Bob the Builder these days, too.

On second thought, do I really want to set my little whirling dervish through the neighborhood with a hammer? Can he technically be charged with assault a la blunt force trauma at two? Hmmmm. Too risky I think.

Ahhh. Here we go. I think I’ve found it. A costume that’s comfortable enough to walk around in, warm enough for what may be a cool night (in Vegas you never know), and definitely personality appropriate.

What do you think?

Any other suggestions folks? I need to order soon, because EEGADS! I only have six weeks left! (wink)