Sewing a costume (mostly by hand) for a little boy who won't remember this, other than through photographs.
Spreading out felt and fleece on the kitchen table, since said little boy has taken up residence in my former craft room. Cleaning up felt and fleece and thread in order to serve nutritious lunch to little boy and his parents. Pulling out the fleece and felt yet again when little boy goes to bed, sewing toward the witching hour.
Years ago, I would have spent time making my own costume, but this Halloween I'll be scuffing around in jeans I've had on all week, holding the treat bucket, ringing doorbells, probably holding the boy too when he gets shy at the neighbors' doors. What makes a mother do such un-sensible things for her child? The easy answer would be love, but I think it's something more.
Yesterday I sat SoJo on my lap on the big-kid swings in the park. We glided along, in and out of the warm sun, and he put his head on my chest, snuggling in. I said to him--as I was taking in the smell of his hair, that unique smell that is only your child--"you will always be trying to get back to this time in your life, always." It's true. I think about my childhood all the time, particularly in Autumn, when I remember all of those cool afternoons running through the leaves in our backyard. And Halloweens of years past.
So why the costume, why the long hours? I guess it's because I want him to have something good to come back to, to long for in his mind. Something imaginative and magical, even if it's more of a feeling than a solid memory. And of course, it ties me back to my memories of being little too. That's the best part of motherhood, reliving childhood.
So what do you think of Max's Wolf Suit (from the book Where the Wild Things Are, if you don't know) so far? More to come as I finish it.
For more Wordful Wednesday, including some on the theme of Motherhood (the prompt this week is inspired by the new movie Motherhood coming out this Friday) visit...