From the time I was pregnant, I had fantasized about our first trip to the pumpkin patch as a family. I adore Halloween, so the idea of picking out our pumpkins with the baby for his first Halloween, perhaps enjoying some warm cider while strolling through a quaint little farm all decked out for fall tickled me. We'd take adorable photos of our firstborn amongst the pumpkins and everything would be SO. FREAKING. CUTE.
Reality:
The night before our big outing at the pumpkin patch, my poor teething son was up crying nearly every hour. He finally fell asleep for a solid two hour stretch at about the time we should have been getting up to get ready for church. We skipped church. A few hours later, we peeled ourselves out of bed and bundled up for a rain free, but dreary afternoon. Lucas, my normally cheerful dude who offers smiles like they are going out of style, was scowling in every photo. The ground was too damp to set him down and a seemingly poor year for crops left the fields looking sparse. Yes, my hopes of getting the perfect pumpkin patch photo were quickly extinguished.
Can we go home now?
Not even looking.
Even if it didn't reek of perfection, our first trip to the pumpkin patch was a lot of fun. We got an adorable little pumpkin for Lucas, enjoyed an afternoon together and with friends, and had lunch at Norma's to fill our bellies and warm up. And really, the togetherness is more important than some glossy image. In my snapshots, I see a happy family... I see perfection.
Even if it's wearing a scowl.
October 16, 2011
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