My first Halloween twenty years later as empty nester

Twenty years ago was my first Halloween. Well, not really my first, but my first as a mommy. My firstborn was two months old when I dressed him in his pumpkin outfit and propped him on the couch next to a stuffed pumpkin and witch.

The two characters were made of silky nylon fabric and squishy soft to squeeze. Pumpkin has the face of the Kool-Aid man and WitchiePoo is smiling and friendly.

That’s how I could always remember exactly how big my son was that first Halloween, the same as WitchiPoo. He had less eyebrows though.

Every year I would take my boys pictures with those two Halloween characters. Every year until my sons got too big of course. But every year I would get out my Halloween sillies and measure against the boys’ ever-growing bodies. Their shoes were soon bigger than WitchiPoo.

The past few years I haven’t even decorated for fall at all. My guys were wrapped up in their teenage boy world and I was busy with other pursuits. This year, I got the bins out. A bit musty smelling and a bit faded, WitchiePoo and Pumpkin grinned at me.

I grinned back and hugged them. Then dang it, surprisingly, I felt myself well up with tears. We may not have “done” Halloween in a while, but this is the first H-Day with no boys in the house. My mommyheart felt a pang.

It’s crazy to think I’ve had those Halloween critters for twenty years. Twenty years sure zipped by quickly. I gave the little creatures a photo opp by themselves on the chair and called my college boys. BoyWonder#1 didn’t answer, but BoyWonder#2 did.

“Hey, Honey, I just got out the tub of Halloween stuff and pulled out the pumpkin and little witch.”

“Oh, the soft squishy ones!”

Yes, he remembers.

That made me feel good. Yet I realized that the memories we make over the years are for us moms just as much as our kids. Sure, I wanted to provide my boys to have a happy childhood, but just as important, I wanted a happy mommyhood.

When I would deck out the house for each season, it was fun for me. My boys may have delighted in it. I know I did. In retrospect, I see I did it for me. I liked festooning the halls for every holiday or season. Having kids in the house gave me an excuse.

We had it all. I had a plethora of plastic storage bins of all my various seasonal decor. Over the many moves and changes of life, I stopped buying and got rid of most of that stuff. One tub of fall deckings remains. It holds my beloved items, including WitchiePoo and Pumpkin, a few fall pretties from France, and a few things from the years of growing boys.

Something is stirring in me this season. It’s a realization that I still love decorating. I don’t have to have boys in the house as excuse to express fall whimsy. Instead of kid-friendly creatures, I’m into sparkly pumpkins. Lots and lots of sparkly pumpkins.

In fact, I may have to go buy another plastic storage bin. This is my first Halloween, as an empty nester that it. And it’s pretty sparkly. I think I’ll take a picture to send my boys.