Mad "Max"

Several weeks before Halloween I decided to make a "Max" costume, from "Where The Wild Things Are", for my son. This was in the proud tradition of watching my own mother sweat and swear over the costumes she made for me. I knew it wouldn't be easy, but I'm the only mom in the house, and if I don't suck it up and make the holiday magic, no one will. I'm exaggerating a little. I love costumes, and I hardly need and excuse to take on a project well above my skill level. Besides, I was dreaming of reading "Where the Wild Things Are" to my rosy cheeked boy, while he pointed excitedly to the page, and then to himself, and his perfectly made costume. I knew he would love it. I knew he would demand to wear it to bed, and that I might even have trouble getting it off of him. I choose polar fleece, thinking that it would be both easy to wash, and not a terrible all day, all night, all day again, fabric.


It took two days of sewing, and the body had to be made twice because I didn't measure carefully. At one point my machine decided to start sewing in reverse. I've got no idea why it did this, but I'm never going to trust it again. The fake fur I used for the tail was treacherous, but it came out looking just like the real deal.


Several days before Halloween we decided to try it on to see if it fit properly. He's never been fussy about clothing, and is usually pretty reasonable about the very unreasonable things I like to make him wear. Before I even reached the changing table he had started to cry. My husband and I managed to wrestle the costume onto him, but it was a little like putting a sausage casing on an angry snake. His sobbing was so loud that both of the dogs hid under the table. After about five minutes, it was clear that this costume fell somewhere between enhanced interrogation and actual torture. We peeled it off of our screaming baby, and I sulked a bit.
Halloween came and went, and I was still a little afraid to put him in the costume. Just picking it up caused him to shout "NO!", and run in the opposite direction. The problem was, that I felt that after two days of sewing, I really did deserve some cute pictures. I'm not the world's most selfless mother, but I'm also not keen on making my son miserable. Candy seemed like the only solution.
One sunny morning, when he was in an especially sweet mood, we launched our attack. I readied the camera, and my husband started doling out the gummy bears. We assumed that a few gummy bears would do the trick, but children aren't dumb they're just inexperienced. Our son quickly realized that he had the upper hand. His cheeks were so stuffed with gummy bears that he had to keep his shouting to a minimum, but he steadfastly refused the humiliation of the hood. We had to do a 1, 2, 3, countdown in order to get a photo.


The whole ordeal was over in about 10 miniutes. The baby seemed a little resentful, but candy heals most emotional wounds. I'm not sure I got the photos I was looking for, but I certainly got the photos I deserved.


Here's what I learned about making a costume for a two year old.
1. No hoods, hats, headbands or anything else that is supposed to stay on their heads.
2. Nothing that hangs over, or covers hands or feet. They find this both confusing and irritating.
3. Tails are O.K., but only because they can't see them.
4. Make sure that the costume is easy to get on and off.
5. Don't choose white.
6. If your child absolutely refuses to wear the costume, set it aside and eat some candy.