Didn't I Just Do This?

Didn't we just have Halloween?  Back in 2015?

I know, it's 2016.  An entire year has gone by.  However, when I put up the decorations outside my house (don't get excited and start looking for pictures of lavish exterior decor; by "decorations" what I'm really referring to are the two pumpkins I bought at the grocery store last week) I kept thinking, didn't we just have pumpkins out here? Or was that some kind of dream?

My offspring are at the ages at which the question "Are you going to go Trick or Treating?" is a complicated one.  First, there's the age-old debate of "What age is too old to go Trick or Treating?" If there is an actual cutoff age, my kids are both probably past it.  However, since my personal parenting philosophy can probably best be described as "If it doesn't involve filing an insurance claim, I'm going to try not to stress out too much about it", I don't see it as a question worth having angst over. They'll know when they're too old. 

Second, when I asked the question of the Teenager, I got this response: "Mom, I can't; I have band practice! (insert heavy sigh and eyeroll) and then I have to come home and do my physics homework! (insert heavy sigh and eyeroll #2)".  So I took that as a no, at least for the moment. I thought about suggesting that she could go Trick or Treating as a marching band clarinet player just home from practice, but I know when to keep my mom ideas to myself.

The Son of Never Stops Eating was far more enthusiastic about the idea.  Free food! What's not to like about that?  However, there was the matter of his costume to resolve.

A few years ago I made him a Lorax costume.  Just in case you might be thinking I actually did something crafty, I will clarify: I sewed two pieces of orange fleece together and cut holes for his head and his arms. Then I went to Target and bought a bright orange wig.  When I presented it to him for the first time, he looked at it dubiously and then said "Mom, I don't think anyone will know I'm the Lorax". 

Don't worry about it, I told him.  Just tell them you speak for the trees.

When I made this costume, the fleece tunic was too big for him.  Now, I suspect it might reach somewhere mid-thigh. I haven't had him try it on yet, but I'm hoping we can get one more year out of it.  Otherwise, I'll have to get clever and do something like locate one of his Special Olympics swimming medals, hang it around his neck and have him tell people he's an Olympian. If I can find five or six medals, he can be Michael Phelps.

However, it really seems like just last year that the Teenager wanted to be a princess or a ballerina or a butterfly (or a princess ballerina butterfly- why limit yourself?) and the Son of Never Stops Eating's Lorax costume reached below his knees. 

Perhaps it's because I have a birthday rapidly approaching, but every year at this time, I start feeling like some great cosmic force is pressing the fast-forward button on my life.  Didn't I just buy Halloween candy?  Didn't I just go to the dentist? Didn't we just start marching band season, and now it's almost over?  Didn't I just have a birthday, after which I set up all these great goals I was going to accomplish before the next October, so I could look back on my year and say "I ran that marathon! I finally finished crocheting that granny square blanket! I redecorated my sunroom! I signed up for that yoga class!".  Instead, I'm looking back on the past year thinking, hey, at least I finally got around to scheduling a mammogram!

A year ago it seemed like a year was a long time; twelve months in which many great deeds would be accomplished.  Now I'm sitting here, thinking, didn't we just take down our Christmas tree a few months ago? When did summer end?

Perhaps that's why I'm resisting telling the offspring that Trick or Treat is no more; as I become increasingly aware every year how fast time is passing, I am reluctant to speed up time for the offspring, even as the Lorax costume gets smaller and Princess Ballerina Butterfly has morphed into a sleep-deprived teenager with band practice and too much homework.  Their own clocks will begin fast-forward soon enough. 

Meanwhile, I'm wrestling with the fact that, although I feel like I just finished Christmas shopping, it's time to start making the list all over again.