Down on the Farm

I have a confession: our kids are 2 and 4, and we'd never taken them to a pumpkin patch until today.  Up until now, they thought Home Depot was a pumpkin farm.

I'm proud to say that, thanks to my friend Kathleen, we rectified the situation and took the kids out for a morning at Gentry's Farm.  Yeah, it was just us and the entire population of Davidson and Willamson Counties.

This is what we found upon entering:

 There were a few great set-ups for photo ops.

 None of which panned out perfectly.

 Then it was on to the Munchkin Corn Maze.

It turns out, this maze is constructed out of sorghum, so it's not so scary for the wee ones.  Or something.

A picture of Mike taking a picture of kids.

 This maze was tough.  It felt like an episode of Survivor: there were alliances formed, secret pacts, and I almost got voted off the island for poor snack-procurement skills (and stinginess). 

 After one mid-maze potty break (don't worry, we bring our own potty with us), and a close call with another potty-related incident, we glommed onto a family that knew the way out, and we were free!

Freedom

 We felt reasonably sure that we could find our way out of the miniature log cabin, so we checked out the digs. Will celebrated his freedom by turning the butter churn into bongos.

 And hanging out in the teepee.

Pretty girl

 A little light housework was in order.

 And then it was off to test our skills at the beanbag toss.

Check out that form.

And it's good!

 Next up, we met up with our friends.

Silly, sweet girls.

Then we had to do a lap of the activity area to get the lay of the land.  Some sliding was in order.

As was some tire swinging.

 The "Crazy Maze" gave us yet another opportunity to get lost.

 And to do some more sliding.

 Sis braved the Mole Hole, but Little Bro preferred to wait anxiously at the other end for her safe exit.

Wringing of hands

 Next, we had to try our hands at rolling an ENORMOUS bale of hay.  Not a whole lot of progress on that one.

 Switching gears, we headed out to play in troughs of dried corn, chase chickens, and ride tractors a tad bit too small.

I love Will.  Will loves his blue cotton candy lollipop.

 I felt a certain kinship with this guy for football-related reasons, but he turned out to be a bit camera-shy.

 The girls were unimpressed with the mules, since they couldn't pet them, so, next up, it was the hayride.

Here are the three hayriders ready for action.

                                          Mike got some nice shots of the scenery on the farm:

 But the new baby calves were the biggest draw for our peeps.  I don't know if the four-legged friends appreciated all the mooing aimed their way as we rode by.

 It was a hard day's work on the farm.

People may or may not have been sleepy, and may or may not have passed out in the car on the way home.  One thing's for sure: you never accuse a toddler of the heinous crime of being ready for a nap.

The Wisdom of Erma

 I'm still trying to finish up bird, bat, and skeleton costumes, so I don't have any pictures of short people running away from the camera or refusing to wear "boy socks" (don't ask).

I've been reading a lot of Erma Bombeck lately.  I'm tired of teenaged vampires, teenaged revolutionary leaders, and teenaged (or close enough) S&M enthusiasts.

I'm a middle-aged housewife and I need somebody to make me laugh about my role as a cat-herding, frog-adopting, boo-boo-kissing, dinner-burning, battle-choosing jack-of-all-trades.

Here's a few gems from Erma that had sweet tea shooting out of my nose:

"When I entertain, I do it with all the grace of a water buffalo with a migraine.  To begin with, a spontaneous, impromptu, instant party takes me anywhere from three to four weeks to pull off."

"I always wondered if someone ran an ad in the New York Times: WANTED: Household drudge, 140  hour week, no retirement, no sick leave, no room of own, no Sundays off.  Must be good with animals, kids and hamburger.  Must share bath.  Would 42 million women still apply?"

"A few weeks ago when my husband had the sniffles, he took his cold to his bed, summoned three medical opinions, insisted I mail the children out of the state, installed a dumbwaiter in his bedroom (me!) and wrote to ABC insisting he would make a great two-part series for "Marcus Welby, M.D."

Choosing a Halloween Costume: A Tutorial

There is an art, as every toddler or pre-schooler knows, to choosing one's Halloween costume.  Driving your mother completely crazy throughout the process is the key to maximizing one's enjoyment of said costume.  Sarah and Will have broken down the process into 10 easy steps so you, too, can make Mom dread this time of year.


1. Get started on the nagging early.  March or April works great.  July is pushing it, and if you wait until August, you might as well just give up the whole deal and wait til next year.  It helps that Mom knows that your grasp on the concept of time is nebulous.

2.  Don't even THINK about using one of the bazillion costumes already inhabiting your dress-up box. Those are for lounging in, going to the grocery store, or attending story times at the library.

3.  The superhero cape is an expression of your true identity.  Regular clothes are the disguise.

4.  When Mom asks you what you want to be for Halloween, come up with the most outlandish and complicated costume you can, and make sure it can't be found in stores for under $100, so she has to make it from scratch.  (Examples: disco-triceratops; Snoopy flying on his house)

5.  Any time the tailor/minion asks you to try on the costume-in-progress, throw it as far away from you as you can and streak through the neighborhood in your underwear.

6.  Two days before Halloween, you and your brother should both decide that nothing but the bee costume you wore as a baby will do, and proceed to have a UFC-style fight over who gets to try to squeeze into it.

Ahh.  To the victor go the spoils.

 7.  Ensemble costumes are for other kids.  You've been choosing your clothes since you could walk, and you've got this style thing down pat.

8.  If it ain't got bling, it ain't your thing.  Tulle, satin, lame, faux fur, sequins, and rhinestones are essential.

9.  When it's time to go Trick-or-Treating, refuse to wear an essential component of the costume, such as the hat, ears, or sideburns.  Bonus points if you throw a huge tantrum and the parental units bribe you with candy to just come on out of the house.

10.  Remember, you're a method actor.  If the dog costume calls for the tongue out and drool, give the audience tongue and drool.

Pumpkin Decorating

Around here, we like to get the Halloween decorating started early.  That's fine for the witch legs, a mummified door, and monster wreaths, but when it comes to pumpkin-carving, even we know you have to wait unless you want all of your hard work to rot before the big night.

But, actually this perceived challenge presents an opportunity for engaging in a more kid-friendly version of pumpkin decorating: painting.

We were inspired by these bat pumpkins and this Hello Kitty pumpkin.  However, I let the kids do all the work, so they didn't turn out exactly the same.

 Googly-eyes and Sharpies were our weapons of choice, as was the glue gun.

"This is where the wings go."

Franken-Bat

 Will cut the bat fangs, wings, and ears all by himself.  The only thing more exciting than glitter is getting to use the scissors, and I'm proud to say that each of us managed to retain all ten digits throughout the process.

 My favorite features of Sarah's Hello Kitty are the rainbow eyelashes and the pig nose with whiskers.

 Will mistook Hello Kitty's witch hat for a birthday hat, and decided his bat needed a birthday hat too. 

 I guess it is kind of confusing, since Mike's birthday is on Halloween. 

Maybe these pumpkins aren't perfectly Pinterest-worthy, but I think they turned out even better than the perfect grownup-made pumpkins.  Plus, my guys are so proud of our new decorations, they can't wait to make more!