Halloween Judgments

Ellen Seidman, an editor at Redbook, wrote an essay in the October issue that she thought was about flexibility and compromise. Instead she has found herself in a conversation that is about something else entirely.

Seidman’s 7-year-old son, Max, suffered a stroke at birth, and would eventually receive a diagnosis of cerebral palsy. Loud noises and crowds terrify him, and after several Halloweens ended in tears (from both mother and child), Seidman created a quieter tradition with her son (and, in time, his younger sister.) As she describes it in her essay:

By the time Max’s fourth Halloween rolled around … Max and I carved out our own celebration. He put on a fireman’s hat, I swung him on our backyard swing, and then we downed double-fudge ice cream. It was his idea of a good time and, unexpectedly, mine too; Sabrina could represent our family amid the sugar-fueled swarms.

But, no. Last year, both kids refused to dress up, Sabrina joining Max in a show of sibling solidarity. At first I begged her to wear the Ariel getup ($39!!!) I’d bought. And then, I let go. We would do Halloween our way, in T-shirts and sweatpants. That would be our tradition, as quirky as our family itself.

And so off we went, trick-or-treating. “Who are you?” neighbors asked, perplexed by my costume-less children. “I’m Sabrina!” said Sabrina. “Ax!” said Max. Best costumes ever.

Adorable, right? And practical. A lovely glimpse of a mother figuring it out as she goes along.

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