When I was a kid, my dad worked as a lineman for the electric company and my mother as an RN. It was the 90s and the economy was strong, so we were pretty firmly middle class… on paper. In actuality, though my parents had to have been making pretty good money for our low cost of living state, they were just terrible with it.
Now, as a Millennial, I feel like I need a disclaimer here, because my generation is absolutely insufferable when it comes to judging Boomers. Sure, they had their faults as parents, but Millennials are not the first group of people to love their children. While my own parents certainly weren’t perfect, their financial irresponsibility doesn’t even make the list of their transgressions. It did, however, result in a pretty contradictory childhood. We lived in a trailer with Astroturf on the porch and Christmas lights hanging down on the Fourth of July, but we also had a speed boat, a couple of jet skis, a motorhome, a four wheeler, a pony, and a ridiculous number of expensive farm animals at different times.
On top of my parents’ financial illiteracy, my Gramma lived next door and worked as a supervisor for the phone company, giving her quite a bit of disposable income. While I don’t really subscribe to the concept of Love Languages, because people are more complex than that, it would be entirely accurate to say that my Gramma shows her love through gift giving. Even today, if I mention I want something for myself or the kids, she’ll buy it 80% of the time. So, as a child, my brother and I had essentially every thing we ever wanted, from the newest game consoles to a literal horse. It should come as no surprise that most of our Halloween costumes were purchased from a store or catalog.
Today, one of the many cycles I hope to break, is that of irresponsible and frivolous spending. Before I met Jake, I almost never ate out, because I couldn’t afford it. I bought my clothes from Goodwill, drove a used car, and did everything I could to stay out of debt. After we married, it was easy enough to continue that behavior. I’ve never been one to get my nails done. I cut everyone in the family’s hair, including my own. While the girls wear new clothes, because they like matching, Thomas and Sullivan mostly wear hand-me-downs from family and friends. Our own clothes come from Sam’s Club, Old Navy, and Amazon, while we save our splurges for new tech. We do have some debt to pay off, but that’s primarily because it cost us $35,000 to have children. Thanks infertility.
I’m not going to lie. It can be difficult to maintain our frugality in a society obsessed with social media. I’ve previously shared my confusion as to where everyone is getting all their money, even without four kids. Every week, it seems a family member is taking their children to Disney World or Florida, showcasing their new car, or sharing the results of expensive facials and eyebrow treatments. This is especially prevalent during the holidays, when my parents take their annual Thanksgiving cruise, my cousin buys her toddler a new iPad or designer dog, and my step-siblings pay $300 to take the family for a one hour ride on a train designed to look like The Polar Express. It all starts with Halloween, though.
For the past week, family, friends, and high school acquaintances long since forgotten have been sharing pictures of store-bought Halloween costumes of varying degrees of quality. Some were clearly purchased from a local Big Box store, others were inflatable and came complete with fans on Amazon, and a few appeared to have been special ordered for their higher quality. Meanwhile, I was putting the finishing touches on our family Ghostbusters costume compiled of a costume tee I bought Jake for his birthday, a $6 beige dress I found on clearance and cut to t-shirt length for myself, clearance uniform dresses for the girls, and temporarily altered pajamas for the boys. The showpiece was their Ectomobile, created from a Little Tikes Cozy Coupe I bought on Facebook Marketplace.
I’ll admit, as I spray painted clearance water guns and cut felt, I became a little insecure. I worried our costumes looked cheap and homemade, that that’s what people would see at the church Trunk or Treat and what our children would see when they looked back at pictures. It took me a bit of fretting to remember that Halloween is comprised of a few fun family events at most. Were it Our Thing and we saved up for elaborate costumes or if we had a lot more discretionary income, it might be fun to splurge and go big… but it’s not and we don’t. We have four children under four, who aren’t even familiar enough with any characters to choose a costume for themselves. We don’t go to fancy Halloween parties. We go to the church carnival, library storytime, and Momo’s house for treats. There is absolutely zero reason for us to dial up our Halloween efforts at this stage of life.
I can tell you several Halloween costumes I wore as a child and the ages I wore them… because I have a freakishly vivid memory. Truly, there’s probably a condition associated with it. Still, what I remember most from my favorite years isn’t the costumes. It’s the fact that, once upon a time, my dad was enthusiastic enough about family life to come trick or treating with us and “test” his favorite candy to make sure it was safe. My mother was once normal enough to bring festive treats to my class. She used grocery store face paint kits to give my brother brutal wounds or blood trails from his vampire fangs, to paint my entire face orange, because that was the only convincing way to dress up as a pumpkin. What I remember more than the costumes was that, even after my dad had lost interest in the holiday, my mother took us trick or treating with my aunts and cousins and eventually by herself. She drove us from house to house as we sat on the back of her Jeep, so we wouldn’t have to walk too far in the cold. I had the fancy store bought costumes, but the memories I cherish are those of family. The ones I mourn are those that came after dysfunction settled over our home life.
Overall, I grew up with all the things I wanted… and I’d have given them all for parents who loved each other, had fun together, and could be silly. Without hesitation, I’d have traded my own room, TV, VCR, cable, and private phone line for more siblings, family game nights, and happier holidays. So, I remind myself and any readers who need it, that it is okay for Halloween costumes to both be and look homemade. It’s okay to save a few thousand dollars and skip that vacation. It’s okay to host that birthday party in the backyard. It’s okay to pass on the pricey Santa photos and expensive train rides. It’s okay to pick and choose your splurges, because those really aren’t the things your children are going to remember. They’ll probably forget most of those fancy costumes and many of those pricey outings… but they won’t forget how they felt spending their holidays with family who loved them. They won’t forget silly traditions like painting pumpkins in their underwear, eating sweet potato pancakes on Black Friday, and their cowboy Daddy’s ridiculous love of A Muppet Christmas Carol. It’s easy to forget in this social media heavy age that our children do not need amazing props to have an amazing childhood… but it’s true. Just look at these guys.
Belle of the Library 