In 4th grade my mom made me a picnic table costume. She hot glued on plates, empty chip bags, plastic hot dogs and the tiniest little plastic ants. My finger nails were painted fire engine red as were my lips. Emme and Kate (my beautiful younger sisters) were the same thing. My mom always made the best costumes: 50's circle skits, the tiniest cowgirl outfits complete with a cow-print vest and hand fringed skirt of the same fabric, I was a gypsy when I was probably one - decked out in a head scarf and clip on earrings. I always had the best and most memorable costumes and my childhood was all the better because of the painstaking creativity and thought my mom put into making us feel special. Even my senior year in college, my youngest sister Kate as visiting me, and my mom send us one-shoulder Indian Princess costumes that she had made out of suede, hand fringed and bordered with Indian-esque ribbon. I'm smiling right now and how much these costumes meant to me. It's the small things that make you realize how blessed you are. Having a mom that would slave over the sewing machine for nothing more than to see her children relentlessly happy on Halloween is something I'll always hold dear to me.