First Things First

Firsts come in all different shapes and sizes. When we adopted our nine-year-old son, we knew we had already missed a lot of milestones: his first steps, his first words, the first lost tooth, learning how to ride a bike—so many firsts that typically fill up the traditional baby books.

As my husband and I trailed our two boys around the neighborhood on Halloween night, I realized that some firsts can be even more exciting through the eyes of a nine year old.

When my oldest son celebrated his first Halloween, he was not quite a year old. We forced him into a small puppy dog costume and propped him up for some adorable photo opportunities with our carved pumpkins. It was a beautiful fall night, so we walked the neighborhood with his cousin. Our little puppy dog stared at all the bright costumes, but was not sure what to think of the flurry of activity.

But this year was our youngest son’s first Halloween ever. He was adopted internationally at age nine. Halloween is not a holiday that is celebrated in his country of origin. He had heard about Halloween, but was not really sure what to expect. He knew it was a big deal.

The day we brought up our Halloween decorations, he bounced around the house smiling and jumping up and down. He was so very excited! Everything had to be placed just right!

He spent a few weeks debating the merits of dressing up as either Superman or Batman. When we finally hit up the costume store, he was overwhelmed by all the choices and thought wait, maybe I should be a pirate! Or a knight! Or a werewolf! Or a skeleton! But he eventually settled on Batman.

He practiced saying “Trick or Treat” over and over before heading out with his older brother into the neighborhood. He wanted make sure he had the pronunciation just right. They laughed, they ran into friends along the way, they jumped in fright at the scary house displays. As they ran from house to house, my husband and I trailed behind on the sidewalk taking in their sheer delight.

Back at home, there was a batman cape on the arm chair and a mask shed in the entryway. Our two, half-costumed boys were comparing their loot on the living room floor and recounting the night with each other. There were grins all around.

My husband and I knew, very clearly, that this was one of those firsts that we will never forget.