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Carving a pumpkin not your idea of fun? Don't worry, it's probably not your child's either!

I have a confession to make: I find Halloween all a bit much. There are parts of it I really enjoy, but the whole thing has grown to such an extent that I now shudder when it creeps up on my already scarily long to-do list.  

Take pumpkin-carving. In recent years it has become the October equivalent of Elf on the Shelf – 25% about the kids and 75% about parents showing off creative skills that have been simmering beneath the surface since that secondary school teacher gave them a D- for their art project. For me, that means 25% fun and 75% pressure to do something that doesn’t let the neighbourhood down.  

“Have you seen what Luca’s dad has done with their pumpkin?” asked my daughter last year, unable to hide her disappointment when faced with my attempt – a generic ghoul with triangles for eyes (since when was this not sufficient?). 

 “He’s carved a 3D Harry Potter and the entire Hogwarts Castle… Front and back.” 

“Does Luca’s dad have to make dinner?” I muttered unkindly under my breath.   

“Ok, we’ll have another go tomorrow after school,” I relented, knowing that this meant trudging back to the shops to purchase a second over-priced pumpkin, before another evening of massacred good will. It would start with her attempting to neatly carve an extremely hard-skinned vegetable using a blunt table knife. Then she would get frustrated (understandably). Then I would take over while she sat complaining about it taking too long. At some point said knife would be chucked into the sink in anger. And then it would still turn out looking distinctly average. 

Then there’s the dressing up. My youngest last year (at the age of two) wanted to go trick-or-treating as Buzz Lightyear. “Why not? Great!” I responded, thrilled at not having to buy yet more synthetic costumes. To be fair, I knew he’d change his mind and take it off before we got out the door anyway. At this age they literally have no idea what is going on.  

However, the others, who are slightly older, were more discerning about their outfits. I suggested a witch made from a bin bag. Nope. A disturbed doctor using tomato ketchup to splash ‘blood’ all over the outfit we already owned – zero interest. Which I was quite glad about because saying it out loud made me realise how crazy this whole thing is.  

What is the scariest, most nightmare-inducing outfit we can dress you in before taking you out in the dark, to grab more sweets than I would ever normally authorise, from people’s doorsteps, in a way that doesn’t quite fit with our usual values of gratitude and compassion? On top of that, we are going to tell you to shout that they either give you the sweets or you will terrorise them. All feels completely normal?!    

Ok, I am sounding like a total grinch.  

There is a lot of fun to be had at Halloween. It can be a great social experience with groups of friends meeting to walk around the streets together and enjoying Halloween parties. The way that some houses are decorated is truly brilliant, full of creativity and imagination. The potential for getting the whole family involved in some crafting is ace. I do enjoy a spot of face-painting, it has to be said. There are, of course, ways to limit the sugar, if that’s a concern. For lots of children, and adults, it is a joyful experience and goodness knows we need more of these right now.  

But I want you to know that if it does feel a bit more fright than fun, that’s ok too. If it feels like another expense you can’t afford right now, it’s fine to take a step back and not partake. If you could do without the pressure to decorate the front doorstep, if you lack the time and energy to source sweets and costumes, or can’t face the drama of a night cajoling sugar-high kids (not to mention keeping little ones awake) in the cold, you shouldn’t feel guilty.  

From your child’s perspective, there are plenty of other things that you can do to make Halloween, and indeed autumn, a rich experience full of connection and creativity. Collecting conkers, a day-time walk to see the decorations, cooking with pumpkins, snuggling up on the sofa with a hot chocolate (see our blog post for ideas if you have young children who find Halloween scary). But you also don’t have to do any of these things if you don’t want to.  

Parenting is hard enough without adding in these extra pressure points if they don’t add something positive to your life.    

Depending on the age of your children, you could talk to them about how you want to approach Halloween and decide as a family what feels right. You might discover that the things you were dreading aren’t high on their priority list anyway. One year we went to a friend’s house (who doesn’t celebrate Halloween) for an autumn party on the 31st. We had sparklers in the garden, hot dogs and hot Ribena. I asked our children how they felt about missing out on the trick- or- treating and other antics, and they weren’t remotely bothered. 

If you do like Halloween, then great. If you could happily spend hours carving a pumpkin, then you definitely should. If you like some parts but not others, decide which bits you fancy embracing. If you want to hand-make the costume from scratch and will enjoy every second, amazing. Likewise, if your child wants to dress up as a pelican, respect their unique perspective.  

But if you want to shut the curtains and avoid it all, that’s fine too. And if your pumpkin ends up looking like something a dog chewed up and spat out, I’d say, put it on the doorstep anyway. I promise you, there will be plenty of parents out there that will be glad you did.