I’ve mentioned before that Mikey loves Halloween. Loves isn’t even a strong enough word. Halloween is his Christmas, and he prepares for it much the same way Rite Aid does: by beginning to decorate more than a month in advance and generating buzz via scraps of paper, annoying music, and in-your-face promotion.
This year, my mom (who isn’t helping a bit) sent along a huge package of Halloween decorations. We now have window decals, a welcome mat, sparkly garland on the bannister, a string of glitter pumpkins up the stair rail, and orange twinkle lights on the front porch.
Mikey, mid-decorating session, contemplating placement of various gaudy decorations.
After he finished tricking out the porch, he clutched his bosom and declared it the most beautiful porch on the block.
September 30, he paced around the kitchen, super agitated. I hadn’t seen him this anxious since we were testing the Adderall. He was finally able to tell me he felt tremendous concern we might forget to flip the calendar page the next morning and couldn’t we please just flip to October a bit early? We did, because who could let a kid fester in such worry?
Despite being up a bit late that night, he was up at five October first and stomped right into my bedroom. “MOM! IT’S OCTOBER!” he declared, in his most excited yelling voice. He’s been practicing wearing his vampire costume ever since (because I told him he couldn’t practice wearing his costume until October) and repeatedly begging me for bright red contacts as an accessory.
Our new thing, which I love, is nightly family walks to see how the neighbors are decorating for Halloween. We do these each year until mid-November, when he melts down into a puddle of goo over his constant disappointment that Halloween has passed.
I’m hopeful this year his maturity combined with his medication will help him be more accepting of the transition to November. I’ll admit, I will spend October in anticipation alongside Mikey, only mine will be fear that the honeymoon phase of this year will be ending and manic Mikey will spring back into our lives.
I keep telling myself one day at a time, and when he has a bad afternoon because Ricardo gave someone else the lone Halloween book during silent reading distribution, this doesn’t necessarily mean the school year will spiral into a shit show.
If you’ll excuse me, though, I need to get to work on costumes for myself and Cody and Stanley, because Mikey insists they wear costumes!