The reality? I'm just too damn tired and disorganized.
This year, as soon as I broached the subject of Halloween costumes with Z, about a month ago, she immediately said she wanted to be Dora. She has the haircut and people often remark that she looks like Dora. And she wanted E to be Boots.
I tried to gently steer her away from this idea. I had visions of her coming up with her own costume, perhaps a unique, imaginative woodland creature, preferably made of out bark, feathers and organic cotton. Something, ANYTHING, besides the scary plasticized products of Current American Childhood INC.
Now, to be clear, I am not one of those people who only like bands BEFORE they become popular (in fact, I am usually a year or so BEHIND the trend.) I don't really want to eschew all aspects of childhood media. And I enjoy as many cheesy aspects of the dominant popular culture as most people. But there is still something so uncomfortable for me about having Z dress up as Dora (TM, I'm SO SURE).
It feels like her childlike imagination has been taken captive by Nick Jr..
It feels like it's telegraphing to the world just how much this mighty anti-tv mama has fallen. (Okay, I know it's not actually about ME.) (Uh...right?)
It feels like ... I need to start thinking about next year's costumes NOW.