I wouldn’t be a proper blogger if I didn’t post pictures of pumpkins and leaves. And I wouldn’t be a proper mommy blogger if I didn’t plaster photos of my cute kid with pumpkins and leaves for all the interwebs to see.
I’m sure this is the only pumpkin-slash-leaves-slash-baby post you’ll see this fall. These two pictures are from a walk a few weeks ago that turned out to be one of the most beautiful fall evenings I’ve ever witnessed. I was stopping and smelling the fallen leaves. And my child’s head. If you haven’t smelled a baby head, you are missing something truly life-changing.
I’m a bit of a stickler for traditions. I like having them, I like making them, I like photographing them. But, having Henry has turned me into a bit of a mommy-beast who “MUST DO EVERYTHING FUN AND FALL-LIKE WITH MY CHILD OR RISK HIS ETERNAL HAPPINESS.” I’m sure I cannot be the only mother with whom the weight of her child’s forever happiness lies.
I blame Pinterest.
But what that actually means is that while I’ve said since early September that I wanted to go to the pumpkin patch as a family, busy weekends meant that we went the weekend before Halloween. When I’m certain the best pumpkins had already been picked. And when it was seriously windy and cold, after weeks and weeks of glorious fall weather (see above). Also, it was muddy. Not a great combination.
But, darn it, we were going to go and we were going to like it and have fun. I thought Henry was loving it, but seeing this picture makes me realize that I’m likely delusional. And I now realize why people say he looks like me. Because this is totally me in baby form. Poor child.
And, we plodded on. My sweet and patient husband manning the cart of pumpkins and posing for pictures and looking down every last aisle of pumpkins to find the perfect ones.
And then trading said pumpkins five or six (or sixteen) times when his wife found one that she thought was just a little bit better. Picking a few of the very last funky flat pumpkins that we’d come for. And posing for one very cold family photo in the patch of orange pumpkins. Just ignore my hair. And the fact that my child is either trying desperately to escape the Ergo or is just about ready to sneeze.
Score one for the family traditions, people. SCORE ONE FOR THE FAMILY TRADITIONS.
When we were kids, we called this type of thing forced family fun (FFF) or family quality time (FQT). Yes, even as a child, I liked to make things into acronyms. I can’t wait until my child makes fun of these family traditions. Because I will have to remind him that I brought him into this world and can just as easily take him out. Yes, siree bob.
Because it was too cold and muddy to take pictures of Henry with his pumpkins, I posed him with them next to our fireplace for a little photo. And this is Henry saying, “Thank you mother, for getting us out of the Arctic already. Also, these pumpkins are righteous and you are the best mom I could have asked for.”
And here’s my husband, saying, “Thank you wife, for not making me spend an hour going through the corn maze. Also, you are awesome.”
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