Ladybugasaurus Rex: a costume suggestion for an indecisive toddler
I was assigned the challenging task of selecting a Halloween costume this year.
I’m buying her costume because I can’t sew. I can glue like nobody’s business. But it’s too risky. I could construct the most amazing Mrs. Potato-head costume out of tacky glue, construction paper, foam and rubber cement; only to have it fall apart halfway through trick or treating. Because you never know when Colorado will decide that humidity should go from 0-95%. In a block and a half. Before it snows. At 95 degrees. Suddenly my child would stop getting treats. The homeowner, seeing her holding all her potato parts, would think she’s looking for a trash can.
The last two years she’s been a lion. Wearing an adorable costume my mother-in-law sewed from scratch. This year her sister will be inheriting that legacy, because the costume fits. My two-year old is too tall for a third year in that thing. Though I contemplated sending my child door to door in a costume that was high watered—it just wasn’t worth the headache of a conversation we’d have when she turned fifteen. The conversation that would start off, “How could you guys let me go out looking like that?” Then I’d have to hunt down, and destroy, all the photos of her wearing my little pony panties on her head.
The last two years of Halloween were easy with my two-year old because she was too young to have an opinion. This year she’s still pretty young, but she has opinions. Mostly her opinions fall along the lines of: “No, I don’t want to eat.” “Yes. I would like that cookie.” “No, I’m not going to listen to you.”
And of course with opinions comes indecisiveness:
Me: What do you want to be for Halloween?
Toddler: A ladybug.
Me: Okay. A ladybug it is.
Toddler: No. Dinosaur.
Me: Okay, a dinosaur.
Toddler: No! Ladybug!
Me: Do you want to be a dinosaur or a ladybug?
Me: Which one?
Toddler: Which one.
Me: A ladybug or a dinosaur?
Me: You want to be both?
Me: How about a Ladybugasaurus Rex?
[Mentally flips through her vocabulary cards for that word]
Toddler: No. I don’t like.
I have to rely on primal instinct to select the right costume. The clock is ticking and I don’t know if I’m supposed to cut the red wire or the green one.
If I go with ladybug she could want to be a dinosaur. If I go with a dinosaur she could want to be a ladybug. Even if I go with both ladybug and dinosaur, or a freak combination of both: T-Rex with spots or ladybug with vicious roar. She could totally throw in a curve ball. Choosing to be a domino or broccoli floret.
So, since ladybug surfaced on more than four occasions, I went with that. I ordered an adorable costume from Amazon. I wanted it here before Halloween was only a week away. When vendors feel morally obligated to charge $75 for a costume that has a total value of $10. That includes thread.
The costume arrived a few days ago. I stored it in the closet. Honestly, I’m slightly afraid that if she wears it enough times, it’ll become old news. Leaving me in a dilly of a pickle on Halloween morning. When our only options left would be either, a ghost made from a safari animal print sheet or a toddler with wild hair—Mommy lacks creative energy at the 9th hour.
I felt good about the ladybug costume. Until my husband came home from work and asked her: “What do you think you want to be for Halloween?” Without hesitating she replied, “A dinosaur.”
Christina is a stay-at-home mom who lives in Denver with her husband, two daughters and a cat who’ll never forgive her for having children. You can find her cleaning cracker crumbs and juice spills out of the fish tank at: raisinsandgoldfish.com