Pa' s Pumpkin Patch--Another Tradition

Ahh, Pa's Pumpkin Patch. It is another autumn tradition. Although, to be honest, it really has nothing to do with autumn, pumpkins, or even Halloween. It has to do with the rides. And I'm cool with that--as long as they stop and let me take a few photos on the way to the rides.

Favorites:

Above and below.

Once Lilly saw the carousel, it was all over. She screamed in delight and desire and pure, ecstatic joy. Then she ran to it and would not move.

Until the sun was setting and Daddy finally arrived to take a ride with her.

She loved it.

The boys chose another form of transportation.

Enjoy it boys, cause these are the only kind of motorcycles you'll ever be riding. Yes, I'm that kind of mom.

Ever since the pumpkin patch opened a month ago, the boys have been planning the 3 rides they would go on when we visited the patch. James number one choice was the bumper boats. William never even mentioned the bumper boats, he wanted to ride a pony.

But when he saw them, he decided the bumper boats were for him. We weren't sure if he was big enough, but he was!

But in a strange twist of fate, we learned James was too big for the boats. Oh, that caused some sadness. When does that ever happen? Little brother gets to go but big brother gets left out because he's too big?

William had fun. I think he would have more fun with James though.

James rode the train, a not very close second to the bumper boats. Then the boys hit the slide, for one last thrill.

It's tall.

And fast.
It is so tall and fast that William decided to go on his tummy and the moment he came to a stop he cried. "It was too fast, Mommy. I was supa-dupa scared."

And that was the end of Pa's Pumpkin Patch this year.

We did hit the frenchfry shop (AKA In N Out) for dinner on the way home and that made everyone feel much better. There isn't much that an In N Out burger and some fries can't fix.

A Halloween Tradition

For the past 3 years, my friend Cassie has held a Halloween party for our book club. If that were it, that would be really nice. But she doesn't just invite the girls, she invites the husbands and the kids. We're at 17 now, and counting. We sound like that TV show. So Cassie is more than really nice. She is REALLY, REALLY nice.

It is a bit crazy. It gets a bit more crazy every year, but it is also a lot of fun, and now it is really a tradition. There is lots of good food. Everyone brings something to share.

Cassie sets up tables in her lovely backyard, with tablecloths and flowers. This year there were lights strung overhead. It is beautiful and serene. Even with 17 kids running around like maniacs.

The kids all wear costumes. It is fun to see them change every year.

Then there is trick or treating. The first year of the party, most of the kids were novice trick or treaters. We wanted to show them the ropes. Now, most of them are all seasoned veterans, but there are always some new ones just figuring it out. They are the ones that sit down after the first stop, thrilled that there is one thing in their bag.

To make things even more fun, the evening ends with the kids decorating cupcakes with candy. There are all sorts to choose from, and they make good use of it.

I think this picture says it all. 2 mouths full of cupcake and candy. Halloween is so much fun!

Thanks, Cassie and Ross for sharing your home with all our little ones. It is a great tradition. We look forward to it every year. Happy Halloween everyone.

Saturday Mornings: Part 3--Pancakes & Oranges Gone Wrong

Sometimes on a Saturday morning, Aaron tries to let me sleep in. If he takes the kids out, I can, and I do. Even though there is a part of me that wants to wake up and have breakfast in bed with a book, all by myself.

But if they all stay home, I can't do it. Even with the bedroom door shut, the hallway door shut, even if he'll only let them play in the kitchen, the farthest room from our bedroom, I can still hear them. Our house isn't that big. And they are loud. And I feel bad.

I hate that.

Because Aaron, well, he can sleep through anything. There could be a tornado, an earthquake and 3 kids screaming in the next room, and he'd be happily sawing logs, knowing I was letting him sleep in and therefore handling it. Is this the difference between a daddy and a mommy, or just the difference between Aaron and I?

Whatever it is, I wish it would change.

But it doesn't. So this Saturday morning I walked into the kitchen and Aaron said, "you can go back to bed sweetie. I've got the kids." Oh sweet man, I wish that I could have. Instead, I let him get me coffee and watched as he tried to make pancakes.

Aaron is not the cook in our house. He does lots of other things very well. Cooking is not one of them. He has a few dishes: eggs, burritos, sandwiches, toast. Pancakes are not on the list. But sometimes he still tries. It didn't go too well. (I promised him I wouldn't poke fun at his pancakes in this post. So I stop here.)

We went with our old standby instead: soft boiled eggs. You just can't miss with a good soft boiled egg. They are on the menu for most of our Saturday morning breakfasts.

Meanwhile, Lilly was having her first breakfast.

James and William were drawing.

Then there was some wrestling.

And finally, we sat down to eat.

4 of us ate eggs and toast, and William just had toast. He's not an egg man.

Lilly finished her second breakfast (she's really a hobbit) and went off to play.

William wanted some oranges. I had cut up a few and without thinking, I spponed some onto his plate. The plate that had been for his toast. The plate that had toast crumbs on it. The toast crumbs that now got on his oranges.

O Lord have mercy.

I should have seen that coming. I have been doing this long enough now that I should have known a toast crumb on an orange is the equivalent to setting a bowl of smelly, rotten meat in front of him. Or feces. Or a bowl of barf. Or something so heinous you would never, ever, be able to eat it.

See that little, tiny toast crumb? It did William in.

To be fair, he isn't always this insane. A late bedtime = a difficult morning. And I wish that I could say that all I had to do was say in a firm voice, "William, you stop crying right now and eat those oranges or I'll knock your block off!" and he shaped right up. Nope. I just said, "fine, I'll eat your oranges. You're done."

Because mostly I was.

I guess I should have slept in a little longer.

It was 8:30 am

About an hour later, Lilly went down for a nap, the boys were playing trains on the back porch, and Aaron and I reheated our coffee, sat down in the living room, picked up the latest issue of Sunset magazine and the last issue of Cookie and breathed out, slowly. Ahhhhhh.

For an hour, we sat, we talked, we came up with plans for our new patio and all was right with the world. Before we had kids, we would relax for the entirety of a Saturday morning. Now, an hour uninterrupted feels about like an eternity.

Sometimes it takes a while to get things right. That's OK, there are lots more Saturdays to come. Maybe I'll even teach Aaron how to make pancakes.

Saturday mornings: Part 2 Just Trying to Relax

We like to relax on Saturday mornings. We like to sit at the table together and have a cup of coffee and talk about the day ahead, the weekend, our plans or goals. It is nice when we all sit down together, and talk, and laugh and linger. O how I love to linger at the breakfast table.

Unfortunately, we have these 3 little munchkins who like to do all they can to make sure that no relaxing, no talking, and certainly no lingering is taking place. There might be laughter, but it that kind of laughter that is on the verge of hysteria--or at least tears.

Let me give you an example.

On this particular Saturday morning, we had made breakfast, brewed up espresso on the stove, ala Bialetti, and sat down together at the table. Only it was one of those mornings when we got up from said table at least 20 times in 5 minutes for more toast, orange juice, milk, water, more cereal, a yogurt, more toast, a washcloth, to wash 6 hands and 3 faces and then, finally we sat down again. We urged them out of the dining room cause we were already a little tired of them (it was only 7:30 am) and just wanted to eat our breakfast. But they would have none of that.

James brought his Legos to the table where he proceeded to build things and ask Aaron continuously to build him a race car. Continuously.

William found the Lego instruction book and he wandered back and forth from kitchen to dining room asking continuously for Daddy to look at the book so he could show him all the things he wanted him to build.

Then he just laid in the kitchen booth and yelled to us to "come look at this one," and yelled at Lilly for trying to rip the Lego book. "No Lilly, don't rip it!" "Lilly's trying to wreck this book! Lilly is trying to wreck this book! LILLY. IS. TRYING. TO. WRECK. THIS. BOOK!!!"

When Lilly tired of torturing William, she took her favorite pot from the cupboard and began to play her favorite game.

Climbing in.

Sitting down. (if you can call it that)

Standing up and yelling "Da!" , which is her version of "Ta Da!"

She did it over and over again and would just yell "Da!" more loudly each time if we did not respond.

All of this was happening simultaneously.

The talking, the yelling the "Da"ing. All at the same time. I really need to film it some time because when we tell them how loud they used to be, they won't believe us.

And so Aaron and I sat there, in the midst of all the ruckus and pandemonium, and drank our cold coffee and ate our hard toast. At one point we looked at each other and said one of our favorite jokes, "whose idea was it to have all these kids anyway?"

Sometimes you just have to laugh so you don't cry.

Saturday Mornings--Part 1 in a Series

I really like mornings. I especially like Saturday mornings. I like a Saturday morning where we have no plans, or at least not any until later in the day. That gives us the freedom to take things a little slower. Aaron doesn't have to hurry off to work. We are able to sit down together and enjoy breakfast, my favorite meal of the day. Sometimes we go out. Sometimes we stay in. Sometimes Aaron lets me sleep in and he takes the kids out by himself. Sometimes everything goes perfectly and we enjoy our coffee in the warm, morning light, while the kids play together like angels. Other times we get up from the table 27 times before we even get a bite of our eggs and our coffee is ice cold by the time we drink it. Sometimes Saturday mornings are loud. OK, most times. Sometimes they are quiet. OK, hardly ever.

No matter what it is that we do, Saturday mornings have their own rhythm. They are an important part of our family life and so I decided to do a series about them. I have taken pictures of the last 3 Saturday mornings, and I will continue to post about them on occasion.

What are your weekend rituals? Do you think about them, or do they just happen? I have always loved traditions. I think it is important to make them a part of everyday life, not just part of holidays. It is these little moments from childhood that my children will take into their adulthood. I want them to be special. Not extraordinary--but still special.

Welcome to our Saturday mornings.

There is a donut shop near our house. Martha's Donuts. Before we moved here, I remember driving by it and I always liked the building. You can tell it has been there a long time. And I like the name. It seems like a funny name for a donut shop.

Sometimes we go there on Saturday mornings. The boys think it is the ultimate treat. They ride their bikes and we push Lilly in the stroller. The kids all wear their pajamas.

When we get there, the boys go right up to the window and eye all the choices. Martha's Donuts is eat outside only. You look through the window from the outside and never go in at all. I've never been to a donut shop like that. I think it's old school and I like it.

It is usually a difficult decision. But also exciting.

In the end, it is always something with sprinkles. Because really, who doesn't love sprinkles?

We also like to get an orange juice to balance all the sugary sweetness from the donuts. They never finish their donuts, but we always finish the juice.

The first time we went to Martha's was right before escrow closed on our house. The family selling the house wanted to meet us, the new family moving in. It was a very sweet and touching day. You can read about it here.

By the time we were done at the house, the kids were pretty tired, but they had been troopers the whole time we were there. So we decided to stop for a treat at Martha's. While we sat at the one table, enjoying rainbow sprinkles and oj, one of the brothers we had just met, walked up for a donut and a cup of coffee. He had grown up in that house, this neighborhood. "I used to come here for donuts on my way to school all the time, " he told us. Now his father was gone and he and his brothers were selling their family home. And there he was, back at Martha's Donuts, one of his childhood haunts.

Perhaps it sounds silly, but I knew right then that Martha's was going to become a part of our life. It already had. I am not really a fan of donuts. I am really not a fan of giving my kids donuts. But I am learning it is OK to loosen up sometimes. And so, sometimes, we go to Martha's Donuts on a Saturday morning.

I like the chocolate old fashioned.

But those boys like sprinkles.