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Kelsey's Corner: The Kid Behind the Costume

By Kelsey Beaver, Macaroni KID Publisher –Clinton, Warrensburg, Sedalia & Whiteman Air Force Base October 26, 2026

KELSEY'S CORNER • HALLOWEEN 2026


There's something about Halloween that makes me think about how differently my boys experience the world.

Two kids. Same family. Same holiday.

And two completely different ways of experiencing it.

One of my boys is much more sensitive to sounds, crowds and certain experiences. The other is my little sensory seeker, always looking for something to explore, touch or jump into.

Neither one is doing childhood wrong.

And neither one should have to become a different version of himself just to participate in something that's supposed to be fun.

That's something I've become more aware of as a mom.

We see a child standing off to the side, and sometimes we assume they aren't having fun.

We see a child running from one activity to another and assume they need to settle down.

We see a child who won't wear a costume, won't speak to a stranger, or needs to leave an event early, and we start making assumptions about the child or their parents.

But there's always more to the story than what we see.

Sometimes that child standing on the sidelines is taking everything in and enjoying every second.

Sometimes the child who can't stop moving is doing exactly what their body needs.

And sometimes the child who doesn't want to wear a costume isn't being difficult. They're uncomfortable, overwhelmed, or simply making a choice about their own body.

As parents, we can spend so much time worrying about how our children are perceived.

Are they behaving? Are they participating? Are they doing what everyone else is doing?

But what if we asked a different question?

Do they feel safe enough to be themselves?

Because that's what I want for my boys.

I want them to try new things, experience the world and discover what makes them happy.

But I also want them to know that their comfort matters. Their boundaries matter. Their differences aren't something they need to apologize for.

And I want them to grow up in communities where people make room for those differences instead of expecting everyone to fit the same mold.

A little kindness goes a long way

Halloween gives us such a simple opportunity to practice that.

When a child approaches your door, offer kindness without conditions.

Don't require them to speak, make eye contact, explain their costume or perform for their candy.

If a family needs extra time, give it to them.

If someone celebrates differently, let them.

And if a parent looks a little overwhelmed, maybe offer a smile instead of a judgment.

We don't have to understand every family's experience to treat them with compassion.

I think about the kind of memories I want my boys to carry with them.

Of course I hope they remember the costumes, the pumpkins, the candy and all the fun little things that make Halloween exciting.

But more than that, I hope they remember that they were never expected to be exactly alike.

That they could enjoy things differently and still belong.

That they didn't have to push past every uncomfortable feeling just to make someone else happy.

And that the people around them cared enough to see who they really were.

Because underneath every costume is a child with their own personality, needs, hopes and way of seeing the world.

And every single one of them deserves to feel like there's a place for them.

Not because they fit in perfectly.

But because they belong exactly as they are. ❤️

— Kelsey