The Halloween Creep

When my oldest daughter was four and my son a year old, my mother gave us an old paper mâché witch to add to our Halloween decorations.  It was one of those classic witches, with a black dress and big pointy hat and a warty nose. It wasn’t scary, but not friendly either and towered just above my toddling one year old.

For the first few days it lived in our home, I tried to keep it next to the fireplace along with a cinnamon broomstick, eager to make our house look both festive and neat. But soon the witch started disappearing and reappearing all around the house. For that entire Halloween season, it became my kids’ favorite game, to scare us with the witch. One morning it was next to our bed. Another day in the kitchen, directly behind where I was making dinner. More than once it startled me. And when Halloween ended and I tucked it into the basement, my kids dragged it back out, only relinquishing it when our elf arrived that Thanksgiving.

And with that, my kids’ love for Halloween was born. Every September when the stores start screaming pumpkin, my kids start screaming witch. We’ve spent rainy days strolling the seasonal aisles of Home Depot, lost hours selecting the perfect witch from Homegoods (spoiler alert – they’re all perfect and we now own four), and survived various incarnations of their favorite hide-the-witch game, including one with a plastic alien they hid around the house during quarantine to “spread joy.”

All of this has led to what I like to call the Halloween Creep. Where once we celebrated autumn in September and saved the Halloween decorations for mid-October, these days my kids cannot seem to wait. This year their enthusiasm started exceptionally early.

“We’re just playing Halloween,” they told me one eighty-degree day in August when they started pulling out the outdoor witches and orange string lights.

“Just put them away when you’re done,” I said.

“Of course,” my oldest said.

“Just not until the morning so we can see everything lit up,” added my son.

And so began our game of tug of war. Every afternoon the kids would drag out Halloween, and every evening after bedtime I would put it away. It’s not that I wanted to dull their excitement, but with the weather still warm and so many of our neighbors’ porches looking Pinterest-perfect with their pumpkins and mums, part of me wanted our home to look that way too.

Hoping to please us all, I bought pumpkins and gourds and flowers, and even an outdoor scarecrow I told the kids they could display all fall. Each child got a pumpkin they could draw on. Others were set aside for cooking and pumpkin pie. But in the end, there was no autumnal display that could stop the Halloween Creep.

As the days passed, the displays grew more serious. Our blow-up witch was dragged out. Batteries were stolen for our plastic jack-o-lantern candles. Some of those Homegoods witches made their way onto our porch railings. Even our toddler joined in on the decorating. It was becoming evident that the more I packed up Halloween, the more determined my kids became to drag it out.

So in mid-September, I decided to let the decorations remain. Sure, Halloween was still six weeks off and there wasn’t another witch anywhere to be seen in the neighborhood. But those witches were making my kids happier than any pumpkins ever could. And in the end, who was I decorating for if not them?

It is easy in today’s online world to get caught up in having that perfect Instagram photo of the gorgeous home, beautifully dressed children, and perfect fall display. Yet I have found that always it is my family’s unique traditions that bring us the most joy. And this is why I decided to give my children the gift of an early Halloween. Because I want them to forever feel confident to celebrate life in the way they choose. Even if it means hanging up a witch months before Halloween.