Carolin I wrote this article with a wink. You might recognize yourself in some parts. My intention is not to judge, shame, or lecture anyone. At the end of the article, I share how I personally handle this topic—but that is by no means the “best” way, just the one that feels right for me. Whatever works for your family is fantastic. Do your thing!
Right now it’s Fasching season in Germany—also known as Fasenacht or Carnival. Anyone who wants to can dress up, and of course that includes the kids. It’s a huge amount of fun for young and old alike—but also another item on the never-ending to-do list of chronically overworked parents in this country. And naturally, it’s another opportunity for parents to try to outdo each other.
You can buy countless costumes ready-made. Some kids love to dressing up as their favorite superhero all year long, so for Fasching they just pull the current favorite costume from the closet.
But there are also parents like me, who (in theory) feel the need to design, sew, craft, and even do makeup for a new costume every single year. The goal is for the child to be happy and look amazing. And, if I’m honest, we also secretly hope that the teachers at kindergarten, grandma and grandpa, and of course the neighbors will finally see and appreciate how creative and clever we are.
Sounds exhausting and not very clever? Yep, that’s exactly right.
Theory vs. Reality
Kids are just kids. In theory, they’re adorable and an endless source of joy. In reality, they have their own thoughts and feelings—and sometimes they’re clumsy. oft machmal sind sie ungeschickt.
The costume is already broken before the party
Fasching is exciting for children, and some can’t wait to put on their new costume. They immediately step into their role, acting like a sword-wielding knight, a fluttering butterfly, or a pirouetting ballerina. Costumes for children need to be sturdy and allow movement. Otherwise there’s a crash—the first seam rips, or the handmade cardboard sword bends before the noble knight even sets foot in kindergarten. Later, the kindergarten photos show a sad princess—without her crown.
The costume isn’t right
You spent days at the sewing machine finishing the long-awaited light-blue princess dress. But on Fasching morning, the child suddenly wants to be a ladybug. Tough luck for everyone involved. There’s no quick alternative costume, and the child doesn’t shine the way mom had imagined.
The costume doesn’t look like expected
During brainstorming, parent and child were fully aligned. The child wanted to be a hero from their favorite series. Mom immediately had ideas for how to make it happen. Dad fired up the 3D printer for cool equipment. This costume would be amazing. But on Fasching morning, the child spots a ready-made costume in the supermarket and insists that only that costume truly represents their hero. Again, no glowing child.
The child modifies the costume
We want kids to have their own ideas and be creative. So we put them in our homemade bunny costume and feel a little proud that it actually works this time. But then the child confidently adds a wizard hat and an apron. They wear the hat all day, and nobody sees the bunny ears. At least the child beams with pride.
The child doesn’t want to dress up at all
Maybe you planned the costume together with the child, maybe they even helped craft it. On Fasching morning, you get up extra early to allow enough time to dress up. And then the child stands there with drooping arms and a shy look. Courage has left them—they just want to be themselves. Of course, no child should be forced to dress up. Dad hangs the costume on the kindergarten coat rack, just in case. Other children ask, “What are you dressed as?” “Why aren’t you in costume?” The child experiences exactly the attention they were afraid of. Resisting social expectations is a huge effort—and it’s part of growing up.
Why it’s okay not to knit for your child
These “costume disasters” stand in for everything we make for our little ones. They show that our romanticized vision of handmade often doesn’t match reality.
Knitting, sewing, crocheting—all take not only materials but also time, which is a rare commodity for many parents. When I knit something for my child, I do it in my scarce free time, and it costs extra energy to avoid linking this “sacrifice” to expectations of gratitude from the child. I secretly hope for recognition and appreciation.
The child doesn’t understand this. They might even see the knitting needles as competition for my attention. They don’t want a special sweater to handle carefully—they’d rather play “Mom, Dad, and Child” with me.
So if, in the end, everyone makes long faces and the sweater sits in the wardrobe until the child finally outgrows it, it’s simply not worth it. It’s perfectly fine to spend your time differently. There are countless ways to create lasting memories with your children.
Do you want to use your free time meaningfully? Do you want recognition from neighbors? Or even from your child?
Are these really the right goals for stressed parents? Just make yourself a coffee and look out the window. That’s okay. You’re doing enough. You are enough.
Why I still make things for my children
Even though I’ve experienced almost all of the above real-life disasters, for me making things for my children still pays off. I’ve long reduced my expectations (a new top costume every year). My costumes are minimalist, often styled from everyday objects in the morning, and work without makeup. I don’t invest much time in something that will only be worn for a few hours.
But I do invest time in things that last longer and create lasting memories. I don’t just make decorations and accessories—I also pass on values and skills.
My mother knitted a big blanket for us. I remember playing with it under the cherry tree in the garden. That is actually one of my favorite childhood memories. I had knitted sweaters and cute, self-sewn pillows and curtains for my room. Not everything was painstakingly handmade, but I was always surrounded by things my mother had made, and I watched how she made or repaired them. That shaped me and motivated me to knit and sew myself. I want to pass that on to my children. Luckily, my husband brings many skills too, which he also shares with our kids. Our children can choose from a colorful mix of handicrafts and trades.
The Baby Bag Finea and and Curved Baby Blanket Lorenz were made during my first pregnancy. Both children were wrapped in them as babies. They stayed warm, and I felt pride and care.
In the play kitchen, crocheted ingredients are used for cooking. The children learn that you don’t always have to buy everything—you can make something useful from scraps. Perhaps that colorful crocheted fruit will be a cherished memory for them, just as the blanket under the cherry tree was for me.
Even with all this engagement for my children, it’s important that I also find time to knit or crochet for myself. That carries an important, maybe even the most important, message: it’s okay to think of yourself and bring yourself joy.
Do you knit or crochet for your children, grandchildren, nieces, nephews, or your friends’ kids? I’d love to hear about it in the comments.
