October 1, 2013


Somehow somewhere I developed a strong belief that every baby should be a pumpkin for Halloween. 

Jake felt the opposite. He was against baby Gwen being a pumpkin and I didn't feel strongly enough to question this, so Princess Leia she was. 

It wasn't until this year, with baby Norah's impending costume choice looming that we unearthed our feelings towards baby pumpkin costumes:
Me? It's what you do. And oh my god, if our final baby, our last chance to do it, doesn't get to be one I might die! 
Jake? It's something everybody and their mom does. Princess Leia every Halloween (until it gets creepy of course)!

This conversation happened in August when the Halloween stuff appeared far too early. We didn't buy the world's best Carter's pumpkin costume that Costco carries which are seriously the best cheap, well made, warm and CUTE infant costumes I ever did see. And as you can guess by the time we discussed and decided she'd be a pumpkin they were long gone, much to my dismay. 

I searched online to no avail. Aside from eBay, these things are mysteriously only carried in Costco stores? To be honest I didn't put that much heart into the search after convincing myself not to care so much about it. This is supposed to be the Fall with no expectations, right? Being crazy about a costume would not benefit the task at hand, this I knew. But deep down I longed for that baby to be that pumpkin. 

Anyways, after purchasing a ladybug costume of the same style only to discover the actual costume size didn't match the hanger size, I finally figured I'd check on the other Costco. After hearing from you lovely readers that they still had costumes I figured they might have a better selection than ours and never dreamt in a million years they'd have a pumpkin.  I of course looked for one to no avail. As I perused my options: a flower! Perfect to match Gwen's leftover ladybug costume from last year! A cat? A raccoon? I glanced up to the display high above the racks to see it, tucked in amongst the other costumes. 
The pumpkin. 
One precious precious pumpkin costume in an acceptable size. 

"Excuse me, I was wondering if I could get a costume down from your display?" I asked the employee stocking printer cartridges as I stood there with a 2-month-old strapped to my chest, visible spit up on my jeans and a disheveled 2-year-old in my cart. 

"Sure, which one?" Said the nice gentleman. 

"Only the last remaining pumpkin costume in all of Reno!" I replied a bit enthusiastically. 

With a look of half-amusement, half-terror he set to retrieving the pumpkin costume for the looney housewife with a crazed look in her eye. 

We swung by, sampled some organic bunny crackers staying close as to not let anyone else snatch up the costume and waited for the delivery as he balanced on a tiny step ladder using a heavy shelving bracket to retrieve the precious commodity. 

We came home after partaking in the obligatory food court snacks and tossed Norah directly into her outfit. My giddiness was infectious as Gwen giggled and shouted, "baby Norah's a pumpkin!" while I asked her for the thousandth time to back away so I could take a picture of the slouching baby pumpkin before us. 

And then Jake walked through the door to his two month old in a pumpkin costume greeting him and cooed "oh boy! Mommy finally gets to dress her baby girl up as a pumpkin!"

And so it is. 

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