In what should come as a surprise to absolutely nobody who’s met me, I really like holidays. Basically all of them, although Christmas is far and away my favorite. I start getting pumped for Halloween costumes in June, and generally settle on everybody’s outfits by August. Then, at about 10:00pm on October 31 my attention turns to my Thanksgiving menu, and Advent calendars, and matching Christmas pajamas, and charming Christmas cards, and a million other things that I truly believe are 100% necessary for a successful holiday season.

tinkerbell addie

This was Addie’s first Halloween. She also had wings, and I hot glued jingle bells and green pompoms onto her boots. It was precious, and I had far too much free time.

Now, here’s the problem. There is no earthly way possible for me to complete even a fraction of what I imagine when I think “perfect *insert holiday here*”. First, I’m basically the least crafty person I’ve ever met. I aspire to someday cut paper in a straight line, and I’m hopeful that I’ll reach this milestone before my three-year-old daughter does. Well, more realistically, at least before the twins do. Second, I don’t have anywhere near the amount of time required to put together the holidays I imagine. When I start planning Halloween, for example, I pin tons of “easy” DIY decorations. Then, due to the aforementioned crafting issues, I procrastinate getting started. Finally, Halloween arrives, and, if I’m lucky, there’s some store bought spiderwebs, and maybe a pumpkin outside. Basically, by the time the holiday actually gets here I’m already vaguely disappointed in how it’s turned out.

It’s a beautiful holiday tradition.

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So we’ve established that most holidays start without me living up to my self-imposed requirements for creating magical family memories. As a result, by the time the morning of the holiday arrives I have approximately zero tolerance for anybody behaving in a less-than-jolly manner. I turn into a slightly grumpier Clark Griswold, and I radiate anxiety. I end the day exhausted, but not necessarily in a good way.

Yet, somehow, I repeat EXACTLY the same pattern of behavior by the time the next special occasion rolls around. I’m a slow learner.

This is the first year Addie has been old enough to really anticipate holidays coming. She’s been excited over Halloween for weeks, and opens our downstairs closet almost every day to marvel at her Little Mermaid costume. She gives a satisfied sigh, and tells me the same thing every time,

“Mommy, my Ariel costume is so beautiful. I’m so excited to go trick or treating in it.”

As per usual, I’ve scrapped 99% of my decorating plans, and the only reason the boys have any Halloween outfits is because my mom sent them some. I caught myself getting caught up in the familiar anxiety spiral early on the morning of our Trick or Treat day (it was early because a lot of soldiers will be away on Halloween). Mr. Sun had to work a little later than I thought he was going to, Addie didn’t want to nap, and I couldn’t find her trick or treat bucket anywhere. I got really close to losing my temper, but then I caught a glimpse of Addie’s costume.

Frankenstein Brothers

Shout out to Nanny for the Halloween outfits.Nobody’s got time to drive 1.5 hours to Hobby Lobby this year.

I couldn’t allow my unrealistic expectations to ruin a day she’s been looking forward to even more than I have. I wasn’t really mad about a late day at work, or a missed nap. I was frustrated that my day wasn’t matching up to what I imagined. If we’re being really blunt, my day wasn’t matching what social media tells me Halloween should be.

And, really, what’s the worst case scenario here? Mr. Sun gets home late, Addie gets tired, and doesn’t get to trick or treat at all that many houses before bedtime. Ok, fine. I guarantee that Addie won’t care about any of that. As long as she gets to wear that dress, then her day is a success. Her requirements for a great Halloween are a lot lower than mine, so why can’t meeting them be the goal?

So, I hid in the laundry room for a few minutes and took some deep breaths. I let my heart rate get back down to normal, and reigned in my temper. I realigned my expectations with Addie’s, and started the day over.

I may be a slow learner, but I think I might be starting to figure it all out after all.

Somebody please remind me of this epiphany like a week before Christmas. I’ll probably need it.