Dear Finn:

You are sleeping, now, curled on your side–a crumpled fern waiting to unfurl. You have an already-worn sock monkey in one hand and a stuffed dog in the other. This is what you know.

Here is what I know: tonight, we have failed you.

I had so hoped that, as a boy with two moms, the first president you’d know would be a strong, capable women. I had hoped that, for just a little while longer, you would be shielded from the kind of hatred and anger that is, we now know, so pervasive in our country. I had hoped for you to have leaders who legitimize–not antagonize–our family. I had so hoped.

Instead, tonight, our country has legitimized bigotry, racism, homophobia, xenophobia, and misogyny. And, as your Momma, I will have to figure out a way explain this to you. Not tomorrow, of course. Probably not next year, either. But the day will come when I will have to tell you that, yes, sometimes the bad guy wins.

I’ll have to tell you this because you are a mixed race baby born into a same-sex family, because one of your mothers is brown, because the other is Jewish, and because we don’t have the luxury of pretending that these sorts of decisions don’t come with very real consequences. You will see and sense these consequences, I’m afraid. The reverberations of this decision will reach you, and I won’t be able to save you, as much as I wish I could.

So many moms won’t be able to save their babies from this, as much as they all wish that they could.

Yet, I will, I’m sure, muster the impossible strength to do what all moms must do: find a way to make the wolf look a little less scary. Remind you that though there is darkness, there is also light. Help you become strong enough to face a sometimes-ugly, often-scary world with grace and compassion and love. I will be there with you, through all of this, always.

But tonight, I’m having a hard time conjuring any fairytales. Tonight, I know that we should have done better by you.

You don’t know that yet, luckily, but I do.

Always and always and always,
Momma

If you’ve been paying attention, then you know that Finn was actually alive for Halloween last year, too. I mean, he’s nearly 15 months old, now.

But last year, he was just a cooing blob of a gumball machine–albeit a cute one. We didn’t really partake in any Halloween festivities, other than dressing him up and taking a gazillion pictures.

Remember?

This year, we decided to indulge in the full gamut of Halloween activities.

For starters, we carved pumpkins. And by “we,” I  mean Finn’s mommas. And by “Finn’s momma’s,” I mean me. Though the carving wasn’t exactly a baby-friendly endeavor, what with all of the jagged knives, Finn did get a kick out of taking pumpkin seeds and putting them in a bowl. And he was absolutely mesmerized by the flickering jack-o-lanterns, which he pretty much stalked for a week.

The weekend before Halloween, we took advantage of all of the stuff that our amazing neighborhood has to offer, starting with the fall fest at the garden center that is just a couple of blocks away.

Per usual, Finn just wanted to run around, independently, and explore. He wasn’t too interested in face-painting or the petting zoo. And he wasn’t afraid of ANYTHING, despite there being some pretty creepy masks/costumes.

This picture just KILLS me.

We even got him to ride a pony, which I was convinced would be a total shit-show. But he actually liked it, at first, and tolerated it, at the end.

A couple of months ago, my mom sent us three costumes that she scored for cheap: a dog, a monkey, and a dino. Originally, I got all fiesty, protesting that “I should be the one to choose his costume,” and we planned semi-elaborate family-coordinated costumes in what was, as it turned out, too lofty an attempt to win Halloween.

But then, after Finn ended up being in between baby and toddler sizes, and after we realized that he wasn’t going to keep a hood or a hat or a mask on for a single second, we did what all parents will learn to do, regularly: we gave in. “Screw it,” I said. “Just let him wear the costumes mom got him.”

And really, that’s a pretty valuable parenting lesson for me. We don’t always have to win. We don’t always have to spend the time and money and stress on a costume–or family photos or party decor or cupcakes for class–just to impress a bunch of people who we probably don’t like, anyway. Sometimes, we can just do what’s easy–and enjoying doing it a lot more.

Okay, rant is over.

So, yeah, he was a headless dog for the weekend. A headless monkey for his class Halloween party. And a headless dino, which everyone took for a turtle, for trick-or-treating.

We happen to live in one of the best neighborhoods, ever. Have you heard me say that before? Yeah, you probably have. But when it comes to trick-or-treating, it is really hard to beat our ‘hood, which makes national news with its Halloween awesomeness.

Each house was decorated, and everyone donned costumes. Whole families partied in their front yards or on their porches, handing out candy and chatting with neighbors. It made me feel really lucky to live where we do, and Finn had a blast.

We were worried that he wouldn’t understand trick-or-treating enough to tolerate it, but he totally got it. He was able to reach for a piece of candy, grab it, and toss it into his bucket like a pro. Then, he hate candy for the entire night like it was his job.

There are a few things that are more fun without kids–aimless wandering, fancy Sunday morning brunches, naps. But Halloween, like most things, is about a thousand times more fun now that Finn is in the picture.

And also, I now have an entire bucket of candy to eat. Because, you know, I’m trying to save my son from all the evils of sugar. 😉