My kids are better at everything than everyone. My kids are better. Period. I am that Mom. I come from a long line of overachievers and since I have spent most of my life being the best slacker I could possibly be I’ve got some making up to do with my kids. Fortunately I recognize the psychotic potential of my competitiveness. So instead of having to push the homecoming queen in front of a bus the day before cheerleading tryouts just to give my daughter an extra advantage my ex and I have agreed that I will have nothing to do with any kind of team sports that my kids want to be involved in.
We discovered this problem five years ago at our daycare’s annual Harvest Night celebration. I always encourage my kid’s creativity, as long as it’s the most creative, of course. So when Savannah decided at age three that she wanted to be Alice Cooper for Halloween I was very proud. And when I found out that there was a costume contest at Harvest Night I was ecstatic. Looking around at all the princesses and spidermen I knew that trophy was as good as ours. One of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do was to hide my tears of rage when she lost to a witch. Really!? Not even a scary cool witch but a frilly,hot pink, isnt it cute to dress my three-year old like a prostitute witch. I was truly shocked to realize she didnt care as long as we were still getting a cookie. I promised myself I would never let anyone know how upset I was about the whole so-called costume contest and proceeded to tell everyone I knew how we were robbed.
The next year Savannah wanted to be Darth Vader. Boring!! Her Dad, who I have to say is a Halloween costume genius, dressed it up and with a little bit of pink,sparkly vinyl on the mask and breastplate transformed Darth Vader into “Darth Vannah.” Once again we lost to a witch in a midget stripper disguise.
The year Jackson was born Savannah, back on her Alice Cooper kick, decided she wanted to be a black widow. Hand made by yours truly, complete with fabric covered beach ball abdomen and extra legs made out of stockings stuffed with styrofoam peanuts. Her new baby brother was the fly caught in her web. Robbed again! We lost to a store-bought race car driver. Ideally the saying “it’s not who wins or loses its how you play the game” is a good rule to live by but there are trophies involved and these judges needed to take this more seriously.
At this point I was starting to realize that being bitter towards preschoolers is probably very unhealthy and I should probably just relax and have fun. So last year both kids were just your average, run of the mill vampires. Savannah had a few specific instructions for her costume (fingerless gloves and a choker), but thankfully I was able to make most of it because it is very hard to find an unskanky vampire costume for a seven-year old. Jackson’s was completely store bought with a few, unexpected on a two-year old, makeup touches. Finally, we won! Not one but two trophies! I was so proud!
You would think our win would have taught me a very valuable lesson about good sportsmanship. You obviously don’t know me very well. Tonight was Harvest Night and while I was getting the kids dressed in their “Dead Dorothy” and “Killer Flying Monkey” costumes I felt those old feelings coming back. I tried to be calm, cool and collected but as soon as I heard the announcement for the three-year old contest I shoved my poor, terrified of everything Halloween, Jackson in front of the judges. He won again! Two years in a row! When my babies daddy suggested I put the trophy in my bag so the other kids wouldn’t want it my initial response was “they should want it. Maybe they’ll think of better costumes next year.” I then quickly realized the crazy was coming out and stuffed the prize in my purse. Thank goodness I didn’t make too big a deal of it because Savannah did not win her age group. Another witch. I do have to say it was a very good witch at least but it looked very expensive and if I have to spend that much money on a Halloween costume my kid better bring home a shit ton of Reese’s Cups and Mr Goodbars from trick-or-treating if they expect me to pay for college too.
Later on I realized that the kids are starting to pick up on my neurotic costume contest competitiveness when Savannah mentioned how she couldn’t believe a witch won again and she was sad Jackson got a trophy and not her. I had to check my inner Kanye West and assure her that he could not be a Killer Flying Monkey without a Dead Dorothy, she was the wind beneath his monkey wings and the trophy was for both of them to share. And that we would think of something better next year.
